Ore : 12:39 PM
No, sorry, the Hello Panda belongs to me and me alone. Thanks for stopping by!
HAPPY HALLOWEEN, BOYS AND GHOULS!!!
(Music kindly provided by Lou Reed and that "Southern queen/actin' mean")
Wishin' & Hopin'...
Ore : 9:34 AM
OK, this is probably ill-advised, but here goes...
I am with this post putting out an open call for donations -- begging and pleading on my well-worn knees, my calloused and paper-cut hands clasped in supplication. Specifically, for VHS tapes, DVDs and audios (CD and/or cassettes) for my impoverished, inadequate rural library. What's in it for you? Frankly, almost nothing except the knowledge that you've done good, and a receipt for tax purposes if you so request it.
Forthwith, here is teh l4m3's Amazon Wish List on behalf of the abovementioned institution ("used" items should be fine, too). Please note that my interests are not so much in Hollywood blockbusters and popular music as in materials which may be more difficult to procure by other means. The hoped for result is a multimedia center which will appeal to patrons of all walks of life -- specifically in a town populated mostly by lower-income white and Latino families, a few African Americans and East Asians, as well as a sizeable Hindu-speaking population, and that has neither a bookstore or video rental store for miles.
Alternately, if you have in-kind donations you'd like to ship to me (esp. those that are in good-to-new condition, and that clearly match the general the areas of my requests listed above), please use the e-mail link below to contact me for more information.
Now here's the deal: I can't offer any specifics* (names, places**, etc.) here on Freedom Camp. So please email me for more information, such as a statement of 501(c)3 status and financials (which, of course, I will kindly ask you, my cyberpals, never to mention in the same breath as yours truly, so that I might continue posting here scabrously, insultingly, and nastily with impunity.) Thank you!
*In the interests of disclosure, and for your peace of mind, rest assured that I'm pursuing all available channels to better this repository of knowledge, and that I am making quite a bit of headway in terms of acquisitions -- mainly and for now in the areas of recent fiction, as well as non-fiction in the areas of military, local history, and agricultural science. In other words, I'm not just putting up some half-assed Amazon list while otherwise doing jack-shit.
**Be advised that the city listed as the location for shipping of items on the Amazon Wishlist is not the city where my library branch is located; rather, it is the closest place I could get an anonymous P.O. Box near my remote, woodsy abode.
Ore : 11:28 AM
Stupid. Cowardly. Sad. Fucktarded. Disgusting. Evil.
Oh, so you're upset because you view certain governments as oppressive? Because you don't get your way in every single little detail? And your answer is to foment enough chaos and madness and death that the struggle ends up being one between fascistic secular governments on the one hand, and your boneheaded version of some so-old-it's-new Islamic/Christian/Hindu theocracy on the other? And you hope the masses will come around to your way of "thinking," and assist you in installing some sort of New Caliphate/Dominion/whatever that's a thousand times more corrupt and oppressive as the governments that came before?
Fuck off and die already, dipshits.
Ore : 10:04 PM
Allz I gotz ta say is, Malkin better get her affairs in order if plans to step up on this bitch. Word!
Ore : 11:29 AM
The government will back down from a plan to require long-term studies of new psychiatric drugs before allowing them on the market, regulators said yesterday...While such studies are needed, the experts said, delaying decisions on new medications would hurt patients.
A variant on the pretext, "Think of the children!" You know, because large corporations and their handpicked regulators under the Bush administration care about nothing so much as the little guy.
UPDATE: Dex has some interesting insights here and here. Guess I should have stocked my Halloween basket with Soma...
Ore : 7:33 PM
1. Of all the books that you have eventually finished after many starts and stops, which one took you the longest and how long did it eventually take.[sic]
Brothers Karamazov, two months. Fucking Russians.
2. What great band (or album or song) have you heard so often, you wouldn’t mind never hearing it again even though you still think the band (or album or song) is great?
"Little Earthquakes" (album), Tori Amos. Fucking g4yz.
3. Which cliché or often cited quote needs to be placed in quarantine for a few decades?
"...and their ilk." Do I have to sic Jon Carroll on your snide asses? Fucking conservatives.
4. During the 1990’s "Compassion Fatigue" received a lot of press, now the media is giddy with "donation fatigue". What will be the next trendy fatigue. [sic]
Considering that it's apparently a construction most often employed by Reagan Republicans and their ilk (haw, haw!) to coin an excuse for assholism, I'll have to go with "Law Fatigue" -- make of that what you will. Fucking Bushistas.
5. What percentage of respondents will answer "meme fatigue" to question number 4?
That depends; what percentage of your overly precious ass would you like me to kick? Fucking memes.
And no, I'm not tagging anyone else. Bah, humbug.
Nov. 8th Pt. III: Caught With Their Shorts Down
Ore : 11:41 AM
Prop. 75: This is yet another salvo in the lingering battle between corporate America and its uppity serfs -- a battle even older than Bloody Thursday.
Of course, modern California Republicans, being as wussified as they are, don't have the stomach to break out the billy clubs and tommy guns. For that alone I suppose we should be grateful we don't live in Texas...
Besides, this particular shot makes Elmer Fudd look like a fucking expert marksman. They're essentially asking voters to require something that already exists. And they're reduced to working stale wedge issue #352, ("it's my money, dammit!"), apparently laboring under the delusion that there is a huge silent plurality of union members out there who were sucked into the nefarious folds of organized labor (presumably by the succulent, lurid appeal of Sally Field's breasts), and who didn't read the big, fat honkin' print allowing one to opt out of one's contributions being used for political purposes before signing up with their local shop stewards.
Even most suckers who fall for the abovementioned wedge issue will realize, if they're not themselves members of unions, that they should vote the way those anti-abortion folks who aren't obsessed with wielding iron-fisted control over the world's uteri do -- they'll vote no because it isn't "their fight."
The only people I expect to vote "yes" here are the hardcore scab-loving, CEO-jizz guzzlers.
Prop. 76 mostly speaks for itself:
Limits state spending to prior year's level plus three previous years' average revenue growth. Changes minimum school funding requirements (Proposition 98) [What do you bet Arnie will increase the minimum? -- ed.]. Permits governor, under specified circumtances, to reduce budget appropriations of Governor's choosing. Fiscal Impact: State spending likely reduced relative to current law, due to additional spending limit and new powers granted to Governor. Reductions could apply to schools and shift costs to other local governments.
Emphasis mine, cobaggery in the original. See this for sociopolitical context.
Prop. 77: Bluehair v. Wapner
You've gotta love the IOKYAR-ness of it all: The first ones to scream bloody murder about judicial activism are perfectly happy to enable it here. Go fig.
It's becoming embarrassingly easy to spot conservative-produced political commercials: chock-full of earnest, "real" people in jump-cutty close-ups. They're crabby. Exasperated. Snide, even. And you should be too, and here's why...Well, because, those people are supposed to represent you.
The biggest obstacle to the efficacy of these ad campaigns is that they tell you how you should feel. Any viewer whose vote is worth having must see those spokesmodels and instinctively recoil: no one wants to be seen as that nasty. After all, the level of venomous disgust expressed seems more suitable to discussing cannibalistic, Robert Novak-reading pedophiles than for school-teachers and firefighters.
Then, of course, there is the dogwhistle psychology: most ads seem to assume that the viewer is an avuncular, white, middle-aged heterosexual male property owner whose values and views towards women, minorities, and just about any economic or political issue you care to name ossified somewhere in Mayberry around the mid-1950s.
Sorry to break it to you, guys, but those kind of voters are about as common in California as rubbers are at Andrew Sullivan's swingin' pad.
Take the the old biddy in the pro-Proposition 77 advertisement. Please -- take her, tie her to some PCP freak's low-rider and drag her for about 20 blocks down Crenshaw. If you haven't seen the ad, it's a classic*: grandma, complete with cane, creosote soles, and a macrame shawl (!!!), paces up and down her front-yard path, grumbling vaguely about the worthlessness of elected representatives in a speech that would make Matt Groening's Krazy Kat Lady reach for the thorazine, as a soothing voiceover suggests that certain decisions, including those usually found in the bailiwick of the legislative branch of government, are best left up to appointed judges. Apparently, the bushy, graying eyebrows of the viewer are supposed to shoot up out of the smoke from his smoldering pipe, and he is expected to exclaim, while slapping his knee, "Ho, ho, ho, now there's a feisty old gal! Reminds me of Mom! I like what she's selling...," and then vote accordingly.
Good luck with that guys. Really.
Meanwhile, in the BLUE CORNER, we've got JUDGE MUTHAFUCKIN' WAPNER, BITCHES! He's here to smack some boot-lickin', power-worshipping, lying punk-asses down. He reminds the viewer, ever so classily (not to mention correctly), that giving judges powers normally reserved for the legislature is, well, not a little bit un-American. It's certainly un-Califonian.
Poor Golden State elephants: hope you remember that Doug Llewelyn does not offer door prizes.
*Typical tone-deaf Republican posturing.
You're Invitificated to an Ongoing Par-tay
Ore : 10:44 PM
The Sweetest Thing
Thanks Guys!!! (More Tomorrow!)
Hey, Get Off My Lawn You Little Fuckers!
Ore : 9:10 AM
All right folks. I've been shirking blogging for work. So if I may, let me direct you to worthier reads on the superinfointerhighwaycyberwebs:
Norbizness catches Bobo (gasp!) lying, so he does what Norby does best: grabs by the nads and twiiiists: "Let's see... anemic job growth (swapping manufacturing for temp jobs), more people in poverty, more people without health insurance, no significant gains in educational testing from the draconian No Child Left Behind act, money-draining war without foreseeable end in Iraq (and possibly beyond), all for the mere price tag of another $2 trillion in national debt. It's not conservative. It's not socialist. It's not anarcho-syndicalism, whatever that is. It's a gigantic fucking feeding frenzy for the top 1% while the long-term finances and economic trends for the country hit the shitter with a corresponding, appreciable decline in our standard of living."
The gorgeous Joshua gets a new look, and waxes melancholically poetic in the inner Richmond.
The Clown Prince takes us to bitter and scabrous new emotional lows: "Your best friend, Ed, is up in the front pew next to your confused-as-shit kids and your grief-stricken parents. There he is with his face buried in his hands convulsing with sobs. And here I am, seven rows back, wondering what the fuck I should do. How I should act. We were close but not that close. Drinking buddies. Clubbing buddies. Acquaintances, at best... but never friends. There's a distinct difference. Yet here I am because Ed and your parents requested I be here. Because you came to me before "it" happened seeking advice, looking for comfort, looking for an answer, and I didn't even know it. None of us did. You had it all man. Good looks. Charisma. A nice ride. Cute kids. Of course we weren't there that night last Christmas in Wisconsin when you came home from work early and found your wife butt-ass naked fucking some other dude in YOUR bed."
The exhilirating, toxic desert beckons; does Mother California take as much life as she gives? Chris may have the answer...
Lackluster Saturday Posting
Ore : 11:41 AM
Anyway, funny and cuddly Austinite Norby has posted such invitations before, but this is the first time I've partaken. I'm glad I did, but I realize my lack of imagination causes me to hew a mite too close to Meatly convention...
Finally, I wasn't going to do this, but Brian at Uncle Torture and Nölff at KickAss Media all but begged for it...Go, go MS Paint Skills! Get me to that Saturday matinee!!!
The Big Chewbowski: Dudehisattva sez "RAAAAWRRRRUUUUNH!"
Pee-Ess: Many new additions to the blogroll; do please check them out!
November 8 Part II: Fraught For Teacher
Ore : 9:15 PM
"You sunk my junior high school!"
"HA HA HA HA HA!!!"
Any time there's even the slimmest hint that a ballot box curtain may part somewhere, anywhere in the near future, the proverbial woodwork produces "Education Republicans" in swarms. They are a subspecies of the "compassionate conservative" who expounds so awkwardly on the humanistic values that most of us don't need explicated, because they come naturally. The Education Republicans coo soothingly: they understand your myriad frustrations with fractious school-boards and smarty-pants administrators and teachers who just don't understand your child's uniqueness and your embarassing resentment of having to pay taxes to support an educational system that seems more rickety with each passing year. And in their supercilious, "yeah I did a line, but relax, baby, I just took an Ambien, so we're all good here" tones, reminiscent of those favored by Tom Friedman when he's trying to sell you the notion that the good folks of Uttar Pradesh just adore eating the dirt off of the first world's heels, they assure you that they have all the answers: school vouchers. Charter schools. Rigorous standardized testing.
And none can pull this act off more smoothly than California Republicans -- it comes as second nature to them. You see the earnestness in the dewey eyes of the freshly-hatched-from-the-think-tank Gubernatorial intern: The schools are failing! We just want to help -- we want to secure the nation's future!
On November 8th, the waxwork T-100 and his flying monkeys submit for your approval, my fellow Californians, Proposition 74, which increases the probationary period for public school teachers from two to five years, and modifies (i.e., makes easier) the process by which school boards can dismiss a teacher.
Sounds right nice, don't it? A sound, well-reasoned finger-wagging at shiftless, incompetent teachers, because we know it's all their fault; it's a paternalistic, clench-jawed "Harrumph" in legislative form, one some might see as way overdue.
Well pardon me if I find the prospect about as appealing as Paul Winfield posthumous scat porn.
How can anyone see this for anything other than what it is? I mean, would you try to cure a case of the clap by having bareback sex in the hope of contracting HIV?
Any time Republicans propose to solve problems with a public institution or social service it's always a Trojan horse: an ostensibly helpful incremental step, which in reality is nothing more than another nail in the coffin of said agency or service. Except when they're more blatantly destructive, as in their outrageous overreaching on Social Security.
The end game, however, is always the same: obliterate those programs and let the public that relies on them ride the waves of an unfettered free market economy: a warm, bouyant, sweetwater ocean teeming with lollipops and unicorns and puppies and singing fucking flowers and dividends for all.
Prop. 74 is clearly just another well-disguised step towards this aim. Make teaching that much more unattractive to college graduates. Continue to destabilize the system. And when the whole mess -- construction paper purchased on the teachers' own scarce dimes, mimeographed standardized tests that do fuck-all to actually teach students how to think, and Reagan-brand ketchup packets -- comes crashing down, wipe away a tear, mutter that it was a good try, and now it's back to the textile mills with you, my little underage pretties.
Feel free to read the fine print here. But please, after this chimera-and-pony show is finished (one way or another) on November 9th, keep in mind one question: Just where the heck did all those Education Republicans go, anyway?
Forget Sirius: All About the Nano
Ore : 8:39 AM
One glaring difference here is an utter and welcome lack of any Morrissey or R.E.M. on my random Chunk o' Nano. Another, more significant difference (which cannot objectively be seen as anything other than a serious flaw in our nation's very character -- and shame be unto you of all people, Reno Dakota, for helping sustain it) is the alarming dearth of female artists on the Sirius LoC... playlists (relative at least to my personal collection). Behold:
1. "I'm Waiting For The Man" - Velvet Underground: Makes me squirm in a good way. Sounds vaguely like Bob Dylan. Only filthier. And faggier. And like they've got better smack connections. Oh, and fun. Classic. 9/10
2. "Blue Bayou" - Linda Ronstadt: An exceptional exception to the rule that no one can cover a Roy Orbison song and have it be equal, let alone an improvement. That cool-blue, clear-as-a-bell voice, tinged with just the right amount of plaintive rawness, lends an atmosphere to the tune that is at once both otherworldly and perfectly homey. Plus, there's the nostalgia factor: this song takes me back to my early childhood, waiting on my parents' bed while my mom put on her face before our trip to Hilltop Mall for shopping, grilled-cheese sandwiches, bubblegum ice cream, and ice skating. 8/10
3. "Pretty Vacant" - Sex Pistols: Fuck all y'alls and your glossy tans and your Z. Cavaricci's and your Wet Seal crochet tops and your patchwork leather jackets and your Exclamation! cologne and your blithering Julie Brown show recaps and your Rush Limbaugh quotes and your poodle-perm/Kahuna-bangs combos and FUCK YOU ALL! This is *the* background music for making fun of cheerleaders and early '90s wiggers who dressed like Bel Biv Devoe back-up-dancer rejects. At least, it was for me in high school. 7/10
Picture edited to minimize the poor girl's pudgy little sausage-fingers.
4. "Let Me Be Your Angel" - Stacey Lattisaw: Proof positive that there once existed an underground industry devoted exclusively to manufacturing songs for the stage of Star Search. Classic schmaltz -- they don't make 'em like this any more; the proverbial "they" certainly broke the mold with the nasal-whine-with-a-dollop-of-soul Stacey... 6/10
5. "First Day of My Life" - Bright Eyes: Hey look! How'd an overplayed single get in here? 'Cos it's good, biotchez: fey indie heartthrob (is there any other kind?) Conor Oberst at his tremulous, unassuming finest. "I'd rather be workin' for a paycheck/Than waitin' to win the lottery" -- at the risk of making an enormously ugly generalization, only a Nebraskan would forge that metaphor. 7.5/10
6. "Teenage Goo-Goo Muck" - The Cramps: Because, well, I was. 8/10
7. "If I Only Had A Brain" - The Flaming Lips: Possible theme song for the next Wally Herger campaign? A classic by way of an electronic Bedlam's day care center. 6/10
8. "Falling In Love" - Scorpions: FAAAAW-LING IN LOVE! Uuuunh, UUNH! [grind, thrash, grind] -- What? What are you looking at? Huh? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE LOOKING AT, BITCH?!?!? Now plant that face back in the pillow as I resume my groove... 7/10
9. "Talk Of The Town" - The Pretenders: I like you, Ms. Shirley Manson, I really do, but bite it: Chrissie Hynde was the original hot-shit, too-kool-for-skool bitch. She can make you fall in love with her even as she's shanking you in the throat with a penknife. 8/10
10. "Loose" - Iggy Pop: Iggy is the ugliest man I would ever have sex with. But I'd do it. And yeah, I'd still wake up sore and hungover and deeply sick and ashamed, but I'd go up to all my friends and be all like "Smell me! Smell me! No, not there...Down here. Now guess who I did last night..." 8/10
+ BONUS: "Obscene & Pornographic Art" - Bongwater: This will be my drag revue debut song. I'll sing this while slowly descending Broadway-style stage-stairs, vamping the way Ann Magnusson wishes she could: arrayed in enormous hoop earrings, a red sequined sheath slit to mid-thigh, and thigh-high, high-heel black latex hooker boots, with my hair parted between two enormous, dirty blonde afro puffs. At a certain point in the performance, my Rube Goldbergian "Deus ex machina" (a gargantuan, vague papier mâchè contraption) will lower from the wings. It will be surrounded by huge Sid & Marty Krofft-style cherub heads flapping their mouths in time to the chorus. And that, baby, will be the closest I will ever come to possessing the fucking Power of Pussy (short of getting the surgery, of course). 9/10
P.S. Quick shout-out to the studs at 3 Bulls!, who are accepting submissions from the worst of my commenting excesses across the superinfohighwaycyberwebs. A tough project, as I've worn so many masks...
'Tis The Season To Be Jolly...
Ore : 9:52 PM
On the third day of Fitzmas
My true love gave to me:
Three aspens quaking
Two Kentucky turkeys
And a T-100 on a crime spree...
God bless us, every one!
Shocking True Confessions!!!
Ore : 10:54 AM
When I was in the second grade, I called this older kid who was bullying me a "nigger." I try to excuse myself by saying that it's all I had in my arsenal to match his "honky" taunts and other epithets, but I still feel like I've got a major karmic bitchslap coming for that one...
Up through my freshman year in high school, I was an enormously ardent Whoopi Goldberg fan. And I'm not talking about her old stand-up routines, or her bartending gig on Star Trek. I'm talking about the movies everyone else loves to dis: Jumping Jack Flash was my Number One favorite ("Who are you? Rona Barrett? DAMN!" Hi-larious, I tell you). Burglar, Fatal Beauty, The Telephone. Of course, the only serious movie of hers I enjoyed was the Color Purple (bawled my eyes out through the entire thing, btw); she lost me around the time of Ghost, yet briefly redeemed herself (in my eyes) with Soapdish.
I'm a closet Hole fan.
When I was a high schooler, I once jacked off to a sexy scene in an Anne Rice novel. Bad, monkey, bad!
I used to have NKOTB posters on my bedroom wall.
When I was pre-3rd grade, my little friends and I would play Battlestar Galactica Viper dogfights on the blacktop. Only I would sometimes cheat and intercede as Colonel Wilma Deering in her Maurauder; my little brother, as Buck, would fly in to protect my flank with a loud "WOOSH! PYEEEW! PYEEW! KA-BOOM!!!"
Whew. That's better. Got something to get off your chest?
Gay Glamour-Shots Blogging!
Ore : 6:43 PM
OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD have you seen the cover for the new Madge? Bitch is fierce! Take that Kylie! And, um, ex-kee-yuze me, but, Hedwig who???
"I hear the moustache is making a comeback. Oh, and so is AIDS." - Heckles.
"La Da Dee La Da Da." HAHAHAHA! I'm so funny, because I made an ironical Crystal Waters reference. Homeless people are tacky!
"And then I said to Tom I said 'Bitch, drop the poppers,' and then she tripped and I was all like 'Ooh, damn, TRANNY DOWN, PEOPLE, TRANNY DOWN!!!"
FYI, Mary, I wouldn't *have* a problem with black people if they could all act just a *little* more like the Huxtables...
Random Edible Hump-Day Quotes
Ore : 9:09 AM
"...And for that dereliction of duty, if justice is to be done, she must be booted through the uprights and never allowed to show her bangs and saucy at W. 43rd Street again."
"When a pile of cups is tottering on the edge of the table and you warn that they will crash to the ground, in South Africa you are blamed when that happens."
"Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last. To pluck the mask from the face of the Pharisee, is not to lift an impious hand to the Crown of Thorns."
"There's a widespread notion that children are open, that the truth about their inner selves just seeps out of them. That's all wrong. No one is more covert than a child, and no one has a greater need to be that way. It's a response to a world that's always using a can opener to open them up to see what's inside, wondering whether it ought to be replaced with a more useful sort of preserves."
"Who gets the risks? The risks are given to the consumer, the unsuspecting consumer and the poor work force. And who gets the benefits? The benefits are only for the corporations, for the money makers."
"Time makes more converts than reason."
Ore : 7:44 PM
Nod to DKos's georgia10.
Sorry, light posting until I finish some hammering and painting and digging tomorrow...
Ore : 3:41 PM
RIDDLE O' THE DAY: Q. How did George Bush find his second-term nominations?
(Answer upside down at bottom of post!)
And now it's time to start dinner. Damn!
Oh well, more later, my pretties!
The Eggman Cometh
Ore : 1:38 PM
(MISS EDIE, grinning maniacally, and minus some teeth) I'll be glad to pay up tomorrow -- in EGGS!!! (She turns to BABS and declaims loudly) Look, Babs. So many little eggies, and I'm still starving, and I'm going to eat them all before I go to sleepie.
(BABS silently slides ROCKY a saucer of runny dog-poo).
(Backhanded, ultimately meaningless apologies to Eugene O'Neill)
P.S. It's Sunday! Get yo heathen monkey asses to church, c0b4gz!!1!
"...un zat is vhy Kalifohniya must annex Sudetenland."
Ore : 1:07 PM
The motley, rickety collage of California's left-of-center electorate, despite its incessant infighting, continually makes great strides in combatting the agenda of the Bund set's effete political descendants on the Left Coast, but these successes have not completely halted the march of robber barony and soft fascism; they have merely slowed them to a crawl. This is good, in that lets our nationally based opponents know that the Bear Flag State is not to be trifled with, but bad because it aids them in honing their underhandedness -- we force them to take their steps ever more gradually, and ever more obliquely, running the risk that there's that much more they can accomplish under the radar.
Our tutoring them in their greater circumspection is in part why we suffered such a grievous loss a couple of years ago when, aided by Gray Davis's absurd willingness to bend over and self-lube for big business, and in-no-small-part-self-servingly abetted by Daryl Issa's ill-gotten millions, we ended up with a Schwarzenegger administration partially orchestrated by and entirely (if secretly) beholden to Bush White House Svengalis. (Yes, I am momentarily digressing over spilt milk.)
It is true: policies that may market brilliantly in Orange will not go over in Venice, or even Malibu. The voters of Glenn or Colusa counties will quaff all sorts of medieval snake oil from which the folks of Mendocino, Siskiyou, and even Butte would rightly recoil. And when the salesman are nationally recognized right-wingers, endorsements from, for example, the sneeringly evil Dick Cheney will have the opposite of the intended effect -- they do our jobs for us. But they've gotten clever. Cranky, professionally prickly, xenophobic stable whores such as Dana Rohrabacher and Richard Pombo have been moved to the back burner, and put on a low flame. "Special Interests" have, with limited success, been quietly redefined to mean not multi-billion-dollar corporate interests, but firefighters' and teachers' unions. Our governor is a famous Holleevüd Schtah married to a feisty Kennedy.
Under this very same, oh-so-liberal, reasonable, "moderate" California Republican executive, an awesome victory has been scored for the reactionary right: a special election scheduled for this November 8. Think of it: special elections traditionally have a very low turn-out, meaning most of the people who head for the polls are the most dedicated Kool-Ade drinkers. And if opposition to the current regime and its plans continues to be as actively, virulently antipathetic as it has been recently, the bad guys still have the recourse of merely toning down public awareness that anything is happening on the 8th.
Of course, this bold effort could backfire -- there could in fact be a massive turn-out, which would be bad for the proponents. And already our side has scored a point by getting at least one positive initiative on the ballot.
But today I'm focusing on the first one, in numerical order: the heinous Proposition 73, which submits for voter approval a waiting period and parental notification before the termination of a minor's pregnancy; the initiative would be an amendment to the state's constitution. This one is so clearly ugly, immoral and vicious, so in tune with the über-patriarchal, misogynistic values against which we fought so bloodily in the 60s and 70s, that I do not need to discuss it in detail here. I'll merely let Abigail Van Buren do my blogging for me:
Her father beat her so badly that she was in the hospital for more than a month. She lost the baby because of the beating and ended up in foster care.
A gob of runny shit smeared on paper like Prop. 73 could be proposed only in a California that exists in Bush's Uhmur'ka.
In the following weeks, I'll visit each proposition between bouts of the usual Freedom Camp perversion and frivolity. Until next time, remember, chillun': vote early and often, and on November 8th, let's smack these motherfuckers back to the 13th Century for which they so clearly pine.
You Can't Be Sirius
Ore : 10:39 AM
But I digress. I love the Minister, but for my purposes he's boring -- a solidly competent DJ who never plays anything really horrible. Ah well, I'll make do...
Morningwood - "Nth Degree": The world needs less Dandy Warhols, more Morningwood. Danceable, mad stoopid, sexy dorky, poseurdom as entirely tongue-in-cheek. They should have backup dancers doing a cheerleader routine with that chorus. 7/10
Elbow - "Station Approach": Thoughtful lyrics salvage an otherwise blah-pensive song. 5/10
The Go! Team - "Bottle Rocket": I would not have danced to this if it had been playing at the Stud 5 years ago, but I might have bobbed my head in time while nursing a Grey Goose greyhound and talking up a cute boy. 5/10
Ben Folds - "Bitches Ain't Shit": I'd love to see this performed just this way at a quiet, candlelight dinner attended by Dr. Dre. I think he'd like it too. Adds a layer of wistfulness (giggling notwithstanding) that isn't immediately obvious in the original. 6.5/10
Calla - "It Dawned On Me": Obviously written to be played as background music for an "HBO Original Programming" promotional spot. Still damn catchy, compellingly driving. 4/10
Starsailor - "Four To The Floor": Stylish, almost euro-poppy, this is one I'd be thoroughly unsurprised to hear in the mix at a Marina party thrown by a pudgy SF Culinary Academy student because his girlfriend's best gay friend recommended it to him. And while I loathe the Academy students for destroying the Wooden Horse and turning it into a Avril Lavignesque faux-punk hole in the wall, this is a fun song. 6/10
Matt Pond PA - "Halloween": I completely understand why this band has never been that big. A lovely "no-one-among-these-vapid-partying-hipsters-understands-the-angst-that-throbs-in-my-soul-I-am-a-deep-young-man-who-is-lonely-while-surrounded-by-people" song. Nothing special, but I would clap politely if I caught it performed live at a Chico coffeehouse. 5/10
The Arcade Fire - "Cold Wind": These five guys and two girls are clearly among the top five most talented, most rippingest, most engaging bands to break out in recent years. The exquisite melancholy that whips through even this, one of their lesser offerings, is miles beyond anything offered by the recent spate of wannabes. 7/10
Ted Leo, Rx/Pharmacists - "Bridges, Squares": This is their fourth or fifth single so far, and I'm beginning to lose patience with them. I have a huge, gnawing fear that in ten years, Ted Leo is going to be a new generation's equivalent of Michael Stipe or Morrissey. Somebody stop him now! 5/10
The New Pornographers - "Twin Cinema": Duh -- like you had to ask. Oh wait, you didn't. 8.5/10.
Oh, thank Cthluhu this was over before I had to do Supergrass, 'cuz I got nuthin'. Bitches better play some Crooked Fingers next time...
LittleSadNoBalls: Zombie Revenge!
Ore : 9:32 PM
I gave it a shot:
And yet another lackadaisical shot:
And I misfired:
But I think I might just be on to something here:
"Eat Shit And Die, Melissa Rivers"
Ore : 5:55 PM
Another: Hollywood is a jaded town, and it would do its spirit good to see another episode of red-carpet glamormongering along these lines:
"Mustn't look at that nasty Gwynethses, preciousss, yesss..."
Not Jim Thome's Cock
Ore : 8:54 AM
Who's the boss, indeed!
Ore : 3:29 PM
My favorite little shitburglar.
Work-Related Post #001
Ore : 9:35 PM
What a pain. Oh well, at least the kids I work with are well behaved (I mean, what kind of kids do you think want to hang out at a library?)
Before Diamonds And Pearls
Ore : 6:45 PM
I'm lazy today, as you can tell. I've got a bitch of a day tomorrow.
Here's an activity kids: want to stalk each other on Friendster and/or MySpace? Leave a link in the comments or email me.
OK. The real reason for the lackluster posting? I have apile of pork ribs (damn good -- nay, succulent -- pork ribs), therefore can communicate with only one hand. Ah well...
And remember, Apollonia watches over all her chillun. G'night.
Something Funny Happened...
Ore : 9:59 PM
I think the superinfohighwaycybertainmentweb, through word verification, is trying to tell me something...
But I have already seen the true face of G-d:
(And besides, I've been burned before:
"Now show me on the doll where she touched you..." )
The Imperious Wussy Shitstain In Action
Ore : 11:23 AM
I was now beginning to feel shut out of this event. He had the floor and he wasn’t letting me dance. My blood was boiling to such a point that I felt like slapping him.
"We just want to say how disappointed we are in the way you conducted the interview," she said.
Random "...Of The Day" List
Ore : 1:08 PM
BAND OF THE DAY: Figurine.
PORNO TITLE OF THE DAY: Splendor In The Ass. (Jess: Sorry! I couldn't resist!. Anyway, hat tip to RuPaul for this Golden Oldie.)
FOOD OF THE DAY: Brach's Candy Corn (made with real honey!)
FLOWER OF THE DAY: Cosmos.
CLEANING PRODUCT OF THE DAY: Clorox Disinfecting Wipes. These come in a big round green and white container, and have surprisingly good scrubbing ability (I disagree with the linked review). Also, the smell is pleasant: lightly reminiscent of roses and bubblegum, imho.
HOTTIE OF THE DAY: Brad Delson. To be honest, I'd keep this secret if I ever hit it: The only thing more embarassing than sleeping with a member of Linkin Park is sleeping with someone who listens to Linkin Park.
WINGNUT QUOTE OF THE DAY: "In an episode of the West Wing, which is shown on NBC and often wins the ratings game within it’s demographic, the character of President Bartlet, who is played by liberal actor Martin Sheen, lashed out against what he saw as selective following of biblical admonition, where people condemn adultery, but still touch pigskin. Also, there has been an increased amount of both rhetoric and violence in the middle east, between Israel and Palestine, with both sides compromised of people who don’t eat pork.
"So, the first part of my two-part question is: does the president eat bacon?" - The ever lovable, ever redolent-of-dried-old-man-urine Les.
WORKESQUE ACTIVITY OF THE DAY: Planting daffodil bulbs (the gophers hate me).
UNWORKESQUE ACTIVITY OF THE DAY: Donning my dolphin trunks, loading up the inner tube, and drinking a 40 oz or two of King Cobra at the lake, on one of the few remaining warmish days of the year.
MS Paint...Or Magic?!?!
Ore : 11:01 PM
And condolences to Res. Go cheer him up -- his man left him, his 1nt3rn3tz be broke, there's a tear in his beer, blah, blah, blah...
Happy unBirthday, Res!
Ore : 6:43 PM
Hot stuff, comin' through!
Ehhhhhh, batta, batta, battah!
Swing that pipe!
Half-Assed Random Sirius 26 Blogging
Ore : 1:27 PM
Radiohead - "Just" Less experimental, more poppy. Thom Yorke's voice is particularly lovely here. 8/10
Maximo Park - "Graffiti" Love the accent, the sexy and competent lead vocal. Vaguely punkish, romantic. Reverby, garage-esque. Nothing to write home about, but listenable. 5/10
Morrissey - "First Of The Gang To Die" Oh, fer fuck's sake. Just stop it. Retire already, you old bitch. And no, I won't wear your fucking T-shirt. 5/10
Grandaddy - "Pull The Curtains" I have a soft spot for these guys, despite the dime-a-dozen weak, breathy vocals and the trend-spotting. IMHO, they make honest stabs at innovativeness -- an "A-" for effort, and a gold star. BTW, is it just me, or do a lot of their lyrics lately have this creepy "I'm singing about my distant, meth-snorting girlfriend" vibe? 7/10
Primal Scream - "Loaded" Props for the reminiscent-of-Bongwater opening clip vocals. The rest would have sounded really forward-thinking in 1991. 4/10
Fiona Apple - "O' Sailor" Lovely atmospherics, an accompaniment that hews close to previous releases. I cannot help but judge her lyrics against those of her earliest work, and as such, I have to rate her highly for improvement. In her first album, she sounded like a teenager trying to be deep, but not actually cognizent of what she was trying to say -- she made no sense to anyone else, either. In "O' Sailor," she's more lyrically taut, the occasional bloated metaphor notwithstanding. 6.5/10
World Leader Pretend - "Bang Theory" The two largest factions in Indieboy Vocalistland seem to be a) boyish, breathy-milky, hesitant cuteness, and b) the frantic, unhinged, coked-out caterwaul that I believe is supposed to pass for "sexy." WLP works the latter competently, but the actual appeal of this style can best be likened to the addictive nature of scratching mosquito bites, or crunching on ice cubes. It grates after a while. 5/10
The Shins - "So Says I" This is fun. Me likey. Just the littlest bit rough around the edges, still sticking to formula, but at its core, as pretty as anything doled out by Pete Doherty et alia. 7.5/10
My Morning Jacket - "Off The Record" Good music to bone to, but drifting a bit too far into No Doubt territory. These guys really want to play MTV's Spring Break, don't they? 6/10
The Dandy Warhols - "Smoke It" I hate myself for liking this mad-stoopid song. It's just so transparently calculated to appeal to the worst instincts in pop-music consumers. I console myself with the fact that I find 75% or so of what they put out utterly unlistenable. 6/10
So what are we to conclude from all this, class? That's right, kids, Arcade Fire is the hottest band alive today!
Ah. Alas, The New Pornographer's "Use It," just came on, but you little bitches have already extracted one more than your due. So suck it, C0b4gz!!1!! [/pinkopunko]
Vengeance And Justice
Ore : 10:18 AM
Whether it's witholding the right of those who've served their sentences to vote, or requiring those who've at last paid their debt to society as directed by law to forego other rights, or something even more dangerous and sinister, as what's happening above, there seems to be a tacit agreement among the body politic that the formerly convicted and sentence deserve worse than a "normal" citizen. It is clear that we the people have a seriously problematic tendency to supplant justice with vengeance.
If the distinction between those two concepts really is that hard for someone to grok, allow me to posit a certain rule of thumb: if a reaction "feels" like justice, if it provides a deep emotional, almost visceral satisfaction, watch out: chances are, it isn't justice. It's vengeance.
Although my thoughts aren't forming themselves too well today, it occurs to me that that rule of thumb may be corollary to the idea that when trying to decide whether something is vengeance or justice, one might want to ask: does this punitive reaction benefit me and/or the victims, or does it benefit society as a whole?
Of course, this is all spitting in the wind vis-a-vis that nagging 30% of the country that's fallen too far down the rabbit hole, so I'll shut up now...
Ore : 8:56 PM
AMBER ALERT!!! *WHOOP**WHOOP*
Ore : 6:14 PM
ARE OUR SUBWAYS SAFE? SADLY, NYET!
Breaking news! Terrorist plot uncovered to plant biological weapons on the NY subway! Press conference soon to be on-air at CNN. Called "The Mother of All Destroyers," or NAMBLA, symptoms from exposure to pathogen can include nausea, vomiting, reddened vision, and an urge to join the Belmont Club.
A partial list of the ingredients used to create this horrible weapon includes:
1 thing of cookie dough from the store
8 oz. Cream Cheese
Chocolate pudding mix
Half and half
16 oz. Gelatinous Death (tm) brand goop
The FBI promises to "take this bitch down."
ATTN Res Republica: Hot On The Trail!
Ore : 8:46 PM
That is so not a cup...
Gone to Pot
Ore : 1:59 PM
Reason #435 for my feelings of utter alienation from "the other side" would be their emotional illiteracy and moral incompetence. There's the vicious hostility to and bafflement in the face of satire. Their possibly puroseful elision of the distinctions between justice and vengeance. Even their inability to adequately wield sarcasm.
Now there's this, resulting in possibly the least effective anti-drug campaign since the early ouvre of Sonny Bono.
If your kids accuse you of hypocrisy when you tell them not to toke because they know you did it in high school or college or whatever, you need to hit them -- with a fucking WEBSTER'S UNABRIDGED DICTIONARY. Read carefully, minions: hypocrisy is when you smoke a bowl while doing a hotrail every Friday after work, while telling your kids to keep their noses clean and moralizing to no end. If you're no longer doing it, it's not hypocrisy to tell your kids they shouldn't -- its teaching them to learn from your mistakes.
But you'd expect such a tin-eared public service plea from a government controlled by the current extremely sociopathic and out-of-touch batch of Republicans...
The Queerest Crustacean: As a liberal, it's with deep chagrin (yet with just as deep a sense of familiarity) that I must call bullshit on that Ammiano flameout with Rob Corddry's (son? brother? wtf?) yesterday on TDS. Unless it was just moment of hammy queeniness for the cameras (knowing Tom, that's unlikely). But I console myself that I'm no traitor to my leftist brethren: Ms. Wong, in addition to being a sweet and thoughtful (if not exactly mirthful) advocate for the concerns of the Navy and its men, is obviously just as much a lib as I am -- if not more. This wasn't, however some might want to spin it, an issue of lib vs. conservative, or even lib vs. pro-business, echoes-of-Tammany-Hall type S.F. Democrat. Just an unfortunate and tacky disagreement.
Project: My brother, in L.A., is in desperate need of a new car. Just so happens that I'm in possession of a hot, silver, 1988 Chevrolet Sprint. I hear there coming back -- almost vintage. The problem? Faulty oil seal-thingie. I don't know much about cars, but I'm sure it's something easily fixed if I can get the engine out. The other problem? The engine and the transmission are part of a single unit. If it was just the engine, no prob, my dad and I could lift it out together. But now it seems we need a garage with a crane and all that jazz. Which means paying out the nose. Unless one of you, the more greasemonkeyish of my pretties, can come up with a better option...
Hey, That's Not A Dike!
Ore : 9:13 AM
Light posting today, as I have to go to the bank and then to the main office. Just wanted to say congrats to the Poor Man and his bethrottled...
Anal Hardcore Mondays
Ore : 12:58 PM
All you need to know about Harriet Miers can be summed up in four words: corporate attorney from Texas. Miers is a "pioneer" in exactly nothing. She is a cover-your-ass artist period. Nothing more -- that's all corporate lawyers are. The Bush administration is chock-full of CYA artists. The least they could do (esp. with a prosecutor breathing down their necks and as the majority of the rest of the Republican leadership is a hair's breadth from the hoosegow), is show a modicum of respect to the legislative branch of government and forward someone -- anyone -- who has, I don't know, say, ANY experience on the bench.
But of course, we know exactly why they nominate warm bodies with little-to-no judicial experience: the answer to virtually every question during confirmation hearings is going to be along the lines of "it wouldn't be appropriate for me to answer that, as this is an issue that may come before me in the Supreme Court in the future." Effectively packing the courts with mystery meat. Until it's far too late, and the rest of the country realizes that what they've been served could have been scraped off of a Sinclair Lewis killing floor.
If you're someone who says or believes something like this (no matter your level of articulateness or dosage):
Although the loss of lives is deeply saddening, this act of God destroyed a wicked city...
Then you need to stop and think. You're essentially saying the god you worship has a taste for cash-poor pickaninnies stewed in toxic broth. Ignoring the obvious ugly savagery, and the fact that others have called you on this before, all I have to add is that this deity of yours sounds awfully fucking familiar.
Ask Colonel Samantha "Juggalette" Carter!
Ore : 7:45 PM
Dear Col. Carter,
I'm a 17 year-old woman and a high school senior. For the past two months, I've been dating Ja'Bael, a 300 year-old Tok'Ra. I've never been more in love in my life, and I'm sure he's the one for me. The problem is my parents -- my Dad is convinced that Ja'Bael, the only man I would ever die for, is actually a Go'auld operative named Charshal!
I'm convinced my Dad's just pulling this out of his ass. I want to elope with Ja'Bael and get my own symbiote. My question is this: Can Ja'Bael be prosecuted for statutory rape if we go "all the way"?
Whatup girl! So your father has his doubts. Who wouldn't? But here's the problem: you and I both know that Ja'Bael is a straight up ninja. Your pops probably does, too -- he juss be hatin'.
My advice? You're never gonna get the love from your birth family you'll get from the ICP and the whole Psychopathic family, so don't sweat it. Next time you see Ja'Bael, ring up to his Alkesh, and make sure you elope in one of them Southern states. Or maybe Iceland -- their age of consent is only 14!
And remember: cotton candy don't get wet until it's in your mouth.
Much Muthafuckin Clown Luv,
Colonel Samantha J. Carter, USAF
Dear Col. Carter,
Congratulations on your recent promotion! As a veteran myself, I salute you for your bravery and the many sacrifices you endure in defending our American way of life. Anyway, I'm just writing to hear your position on the Iraq War.
Dig it, Markos:
Although current international treaties prohibit the Stargate Program and technologies obtained thereby from being employed in a local conflict such as the Iraq theater, you and I are both aware of how straight up stale the current Administration be -- that redneck Richy Bush would have no problem sendin' all our muthafuckin' asses to the Echo Side!
Personally, I take my inspiration from The Amazing Jeckel Brothers Card of the Joker's Deck. Make of it what you will, Juggaloco.
Much Wicked Clown Luv,
Colonel Samantha J. Carter, USAF
Salutations Col. Carter,
I have a problem. I am a ruthless, indescribably powerful higher being dedicated to the control, and failing that, the destruction of the known universe. Of particular concern at this juncture is an insignificant, blue-white planet in orbit around a puny, irrelevant G5 star located near the outskirts of the galaxy. Specifically, I have been thwarted time and again by that planet's dominant species. Even more specifically, a military group charged with defending said worthless speck of a planet.
How can I rid myself of this niggling pinch of humanity once and for all?
Clearly, you're going about solving your problem all wrong. You've been thinking astronomically big and impressive, when you should be thinking small. The Ringmaster reminds us that all kinds can have clown love -- from the mightiest partially ascended Go'auld to (you guessed it!) the tiniest virus.
Stop focusing on the big gestures, and try something seemingly innocuous -- eradicate your problem with a modified version of influenza or HIV or some such.
The Dark Carnival awaits us all.
Colonel Samantha J. Carter, USAF