That the Corner's John J. Miller will not answer the e-mail I'm about to send him in response to this benighted nugget:
The Left has a whole organization devoted to studying conservative philanthropy [ed.'s note: a two-word phrase that dares one not to succumb to paroxysms of horrified laughter]. It's called the National Committee for Responsive Philanthropy, also known by its acronym NCRP (pronounced "N-crap") [kuh-lassy!]. Actually, I've found a lot of their publications to be professional and worthwhile -- all from a certain perspective, of course, but also honest attempts to understand and evaluate the Right. I spoke at a Hudson Institute forum last year and one of my co-panelists was from NCRP. He sincerely believes that the Left has a lot to learn from the Right in terms of infrastructure and organization. A simple observation: Conservative philanthropies are much more likely to stick by their grantees over long stretches of time -- in other words, they keep going back to the tried and true (which is not surprising for conservatives). On the Left, however, donors often pursue fads and trends -- they may help get a group up and running, but rather than trying to sustain it over time, they abandon it for something else. This winds up having an impact on which ideas are developed and which messages are heard. Mike Joyce was definitley [sic] a member of the "stand by me" school of thought -- if he believed you were talented and hardworking and worth supporting, then his support of you (through the Olin Foundation and later the Bradley Foundation) was likely to last quite a while.
...Proving he knows less about absolutely everything than even his fellow Cornernik Jonah. Now, this was up yesterday, and is therefore old -- doubtless many new squirts of idiocy have since been sprayed up in the local HTML 2.0 -- but I'm going to respond anyway:
RE: "Philanthropy Left and Right"
John: Your anonymous source at the NCRP notwithstanding, ideas aren't developed and messages aren't heard not because the dreaded Left is too busy pursuing trends and fads, but because when the liberals think of philanthropy, typically they think of aiding their fellow man in very concrete, immediate ways: using their private monies (as well as funds raised from other individuals and organizations) primarily for the purposes of, say, providing hospice care for AIDS sufferers, vocational training for the homeless, daycare for low-income families -- that sort of thing. The most politicized you'll see them get is when they engage in public advocacy for such niches. The last thing they're thinking of, when they envision philanthropy, is creating left-leaning think-tanks and media juggernauts. Perhaps wrongly, perhaps rightly, but there it is. As a former social services employee, I understand that it is in part because they are deathly afraid that if they take that plunge, they risk alienating otherwise right-leaning charitable sources that could have helped what "lefties" consider to be "real" philanthropy -- for the sake of actually helping people in the here and now, they're willing to forego taking any stand that could be perceived as too "political". It may be myopic, but to do otherwise is generally regarded as being too great a risk.
Whaddaya bet this pointedly does not get addressed?
My Jackie Stallone Prediction For This Week:
2.28.2006
Ore : 11:01 AM
Ore : 11:01 AM
Unborn Slippy
Ore : 9:13 AM
Loitering at the Corner so you don't have to...
Others have been following the multifaceted Sully versus Ponnuru cagefight with more alacrity than I. I've only half-heartedly observed their fracas as I might such a one between that Idiot Dog guy and the probably-not-syphilitic Debbie Schlussel -- ie, with occasional disgusted fascination interspersed with long stretches of boredom.
Lucky for me, however, the debate has finally reached its inevitable destination, one we privacy, choice, and suffrage advocates have anticipated with curiousity tempered by horror: Just what, in the nitty-gritty, nuts and bolts end, should be the penalties for women who secure the procedure, and doctors who perform it?
Has our favorite right-wing barebacker misrepresented Ramesh's and Bob George's position -- setting up so many straw men -- for the sake of supporting his own watery pro-choice stance? Yeah, probably a few times. After all, that's pretty much the Right's stock-in-trade when dealing with critics and opponents, so it stands to reason they'd use it in internal spats.
One reason, though, that Ramesh can so easily make this accusation against Sully and make it stick, is that Ramesh himself has achieved almost Goldbergian levels of doughbabyhood: you punch, only to be forced to extricate your fist with your foot, which in turn becomes mired, and so on. To this end, Ramesh almost never says what he means -- even after everyone else has folded, he refuses to lay his cards on the table.
But it can happen to even the most circumspect Strauss- and Rand-tinged modern conservatarian: he rushes too fast to the Corner to make his point, and accidentally exposes a generous length of his slip.
For one thing, he inadvertantly reminds us that, to the right-wing mind, morality is not so much that which informs our sense of right and wrong, and that which helps us codify the rules by which we live in accord with our fellow man, as much as it is a cudgel with which to brain perceived opponents -- moreover, a cudgel to be used one moment, renounced the next, then used again when the opponent isn't looking:
Take the case of a man who performs an abortion out of compassion for a pregnant woman in distress. Because George and I believe the fetus has an equal right not to be killed as an adult, we would judge that compassion misplaced and seek to prohibit the abortion. But we would also judge that act as less culpable, and less blameworthy, than, say, the murder of a business rival out of greed.
Do I even want to know how this jibes with his stated opinion on harsher sentences for hate crimes? Probably not. I've been doing this for far too long for Republican hypocrisy to make me even twitch an eyebrow.
Slightly more outrageous is his accidentally reminding readers of that which should best be kept behind the curtain: namely, that the will of the people (and indeed, the law) are not with him and his fellow flying monkeys on this one:
For example, too-tough penalties on abortion might make it hard to get juries to convict, and thus defeat the purpose of anti-abortion laws.
In other words, "Most juries would not convict if they knew the sentence would be as harsh as that handed down for, you know, actual murder. So in order to secure punishment for women who dare assert autonomy, and the doctors who help them, we have to start small -- it may be up to ensuing generations to get on with the public stonings."
And if it's hilarity you're in search of, look no further than Ramesh's inflated sense of self-importance [emphasis mine, bantam-scratching in the original]:
...Both George and I have said that if abortion could be deterred, and the injustice of abortion communicated, by removing medical licenses from abortionists and fining unlicensed abortionists, we would not wish to go further.
...The fact that these views are widely held in our society does not, in our view, strengthen the moral case for legal abortion, but it does, again, make us judge an act of abortion less harshly.
Yeah, from your simpering, stretched lips to Dobson's and Scalito's ears, big-shots. I'm sure your opinions are gonna carry a hell of a lot of weight when those gavels start coming down.
The reason you're stuck doo-wopping on the Corner, brainiacs, is that you're not important enough to be let inside.
Others have been following the multifaceted Sully versus Ponnuru cagefight with more alacrity than I. I've only half-heartedly observed their fracas as I might such a one between that Idiot Dog guy and the probably-not-syphilitic Debbie Schlussel -- ie, with occasional disgusted fascination interspersed with long stretches of boredom.
Lucky for me, however, the debate has finally reached its inevitable destination, one we privacy, choice, and suffrage advocates have anticipated with curiousity tempered by horror: Just what, in the nitty-gritty, nuts and bolts end, should be the penalties for women who secure the procedure, and doctors who perform it?
Has our favorite right-wing barebacker misrepresented Ramesh's and Bob George's position -- setting up so many straw men -- for the sake of supporting his own watery pro-choice stance? Yeah, probably a few times. After all, that's pretty much the Right's stock-in-trade when dealing with critics and opponents, so it stands to reason they'd use it in internal spats.
One reason, though, that Ramesh can so easily make this accusation against Sully and make it stick, is that Ramesh himself has achieved almost Goldbergian levels of doughbabyhood: you punch, only to be forced to extricate your fist with your foot, which in turn becomes mired, and so on. To this end, Ramesh almost never says what he means -- even after everyone else has folded, he refuses to lay his cards on the table.
But it can happen to even the most circumspect Strauss- and Rand-tinged modern conservatarian: he rushes too fast to the Corner to make his point, and accidentally exposes a generous length of his slip.
For one thing, he inadvertantly reminds us that, to the right-wing mind, morality is not so much that which informs our sense of right and wrong, and that which helps us codify the rules by which we live in accord with our fellow man, as much as it is a cudgel with which to brain perceived opponents -- moreover, a cudgel to be used one moment, renounced the next, then used again when the opponent isn't looking:
Take the case of a man who performs an abortion out of compassion for a pregnant woman in distress. Because George and I believe the fetus has an equal right not to be killed as an adult, we would judge that compassion misplaced and seek to prohibit the abortion. But we would also judge that act as less culpable, and less blameworthy, than, say, the murder of a business rival out of greed.
Do I even want to know how this jibes with his stated opinion on harsher sentences for hate crimes? Probably not. I've been doing this for far too long for Republican hypocrisy to make me even twitch an eyebrow.
Slightly more outrageous is his accidentally reminding readers of that which should best be kept behind the curtain: namely, that the will of the people (and indeed, the law) are not with him and his fellow flying monkeys on this one:
For example, too-tough penalties on abortion might make it hard to get juries to convict, and thus defeat the purpose of anti-abortion laws.
In other words, "Most juries would not convict if they knew the sentence would be as harsh as that handed down for, you know, actual murder. So in order to secure punishment for women who dare assert autonomy, and the doctors who help them, we have to start small -- it may be up to ensuing generations to get on with the public stonings."
And if it's hilarity you're in search of, look no further than Ramesh's inflated sense of self-importance [emphasis mine, bantam-scratching in the original]:
...Both George and I have said that if abortion could be deterred, and the injustice of abortion communicated, by removing medical licenses from abortionists and fining unlicensed abortionists, we would not wish to go further.
...The fact that these views are widely held in our society does not, in our view, strengthen the moral case for legal abortion, but it does, again, make us judge an act of abortion less harshly.
Yeah, from your simpering, stretched lips to Dobson's and Scalito's ears, big-shots. I'm sure your opinions are gonna carry a hell of a lot of weight when those gavels start coming down.
The reason you're stuck doo-wopping on the Corner, brainiacs, is that you're not important enough to be let inside.
For The Record...
2.27.2006
Ore : 8:55 AM
Ore : 8:55 AM
* It is not a "Terrorist Monitoring Program" (yet another misnomer created by the Bush administration and uncritically regurgitated by the media) as it primarily monitors American citizens innocent of any wrongdoing. Whether or not the records are subsequently destroyed, and whether or not Specter's reprehensible "free-pass" legislation is adopted, are issues beside the point: at the end of the day, there are men and women sequestered away in some dark room who, without any judicial or congressional oversight, are reading Americans' e-mails and listening in on Americans' phone calls.
* "Libs" are not "upset about" this. I would venture to say, if I may dare speak for my fractious fellow left-wingers, that we are pretty much just shrugging our shoulders. We honestly have no idea why capturing our 200th "#2" is such a big deal. Furthermore, Bush did not in fact personally wrestle this aide to the ground and singlehandedly wrest from him his Treo. I'm pretty sure soldiers did that -- you know, guys who are in the armed forces in part because their physical coordination is good enough that they don't fall off of bikes.
* Jonah's recent attempt to cast fascism as a product of liberalism is even more idiotic and incomprehensible than Ann Coulter's attempt to resuscitate the legacy of Joe "Golly-Gee That Malmedy Massacre Was Somethin' Tho'" McCarthy. Maybe in 10 or 15 years he could have pulled it off, but there are still people alive from that time. Neither they nor I need to write a book (!) to point out that the rise of National Socialism in Germany was not an extension or a continuation of the Weimar "renaissance" so much as it was, in part and in fact, a repudiation of it -- certainly, on this side of the Atlantic, those were not my political antecedents who in public merely opposed fighting Hitler, while in private hoisted frothing steins at Bund parties.
* Unitary Executive = "And sometimes you have to go above the written law" = "It's not illegal if the president does it" = "L'etat, c'est moi". It's all the same, and just because it chuckles and flashes shit-eating grins and pats you on the back and gives you a cutesy nickname and loves mom and apple pie and waves the flag and bears the cross does not mean it is not royalism or fascism.
* "Libs" are not "upset about" this. I would venture to say, if I may dare speak for my fractious fellow left-wingers, that we are pretty much just shrugging our shoulders. We honestly have no idea why capturing our 200th "#2" is such a big deal. Furthermore, Bush did not in fact personally wrestle this aide to the ground and singlehandedly wrest from him his Treo. I'm pretty sure soldiers did that -- you know, guys who are in the armed forces in part because their physical coordination is good enough that they don't fall off of bikes.
* Jonah's recent attempt to cast fascism as a product of liberalism is even more idiotic and incomprehensible than Ann Coulter's attempt to resuscitate the legacy of Joe "Golly-Gee That Malmedy Massacre Was Somethin' Tho'" McCarthy. Maybe in 10 or 15 years he could have pulled it off, but there are still people alive from that time. Neither they nor I need to write a book (!) to point out that the rise of National Socialism in Germany was not an extension or a continuation of the Weimar "renaissance" so much as it was, in part and in fact, a repudiation of it -- certainly, on this side of the Atlantic, those were not my political antecedents who in public merely opposed fighting Hitler, while in private hoisted frothing steins at Bund parties.
* Unitary Executive = "And sometimes you have to go above the written law" = "It's not illegal if the president does it" = "L'etat, c'est moi". It's all the same, and just because it chuckles and flashes shit-eating grins and pats you on the back and gives you a cutesy nickname and loves mom and apple pie and waves the flag and bears the cross does not mean it is not royalism or fascism.
Dunces Condensed
2.26.2006
Ore : 8:31 PM
Ore : 8:31 PM
At the corner of Strauss Lane and Bell Curve Avenue, the current dubious top 5...
* John J. Miller points us towards a grave worth pissing on.
* Stuttaford, still yammering on, is disgusted that the UK's version of "conservative" tends not to push Intelligent Design and the relegation of women to second-class citizenship.
* "Why no, my dear American friends, you do not have a beam in your own eye...", remarks Stuttaford.
* Andrew Stuttaford, perhaps grown too accustomed to American brand independechristorepuliconservatarianism, tut-tuts unwelcome developments across the pond.
* Warren Bell urges us to send in pickaninny jokes, which he lacks the balls to post himself on the Web.
* John J. Miller points us towards a grave worth pissing on.
* Stuttaford, still yammering on, is disgusted that the UK's version of "conservative" tends not to push Intelligent Design and the relegation of women to second-class citizenship.
* "Why no, my dear American friends, you do not have a beam in your own eye...", remarks Stuttaford.
* Andrew Stuttaford, perhaps grown too accustomed to American brand independechristorepuliconservatarianism, tut-tuts unwelcome developments across the pond.
* Warren Bell urges us to send in pickaninny jokes, which he lacks the balls to post himself on the Web.
R.I.P., Mr. Deputy
2.25.2006
Ore : 3:30 PM
Ore : 3:30 PM
One bullet. Three tenants. Poor guy didn't stand a chance... Alternate Yahoo! News Headlines
Ore : 8:32 AM
* Iraq Gov't Calls Victor Davis Hanson, Joe Lieberman Liars
* Pat Robertson Was Right
* Chertoff Slow With Riding Crop
* Of Vintage Desserts and Gerbils
* S.D. Gov. Supports Rapists', Incestuous Dads' Rights
* Pat Robertson Was Right
* Chertoff Slow With Riding Crop
* Of Vintage Desserts and Gerbils
* S.D. Gov. Supports Rapists', Incestuous Dads' Rights
What, You Were Expecting A Mea Culpa?
2.23.2006
Ore : 2:25 PM
Ore : 2:25 PM
Yeah, uh-huh, whatever George.
I guess deploying mercenaries to valiantly defend rich people's things wasn't right-wing enough.
I guess deploying mercenaries to valiantly defend rich people's things wasn't right-wing enough.
About The UAE Thing
2.22.2006
Ore : 5:26 PM
Ore : 5:26 PM
DP World: You should be lookin' sour, Lady Liberty, yer gettin' it in both holes! YEE-HAW!
Just to be clear, I think we on the left don't need to be worried about racist taint from the right just because on this we happen to agree. And, in this atmosphere of bipartisan gawking at yet another example of Uncurious George's dipshittitude, any charges of racism lobbed at the left may be scornfully shrugged off as straw-grasping by Dubya apologists.
I for one have no problem with a Muslim company -- a corporation whose leadership and ownership just happens to be Arab or Persian or what have you -- getting this contract. But that's not what this is. This is about a port security contract being awarded to a company owned and run by a foreign government with documented ties to terrorist organizations that include al Qaeda.
This isn't pulling someone from the line at the boarding gate just for the crime of being brown; this is pulling from that line the guy who's on the no-fly list and whose mugshot may be seen among those of the FBI's Most Wanted. It's really a no-brainer.
Old News...
Ore : 6:33 AM
...In Internet years, but I thought it bears repeating:
"On the subject of abortion -- the core issue of religious conservatives -- he declared his support for a constitutional amendment to ban legal abortions, but said that Americans' 'hearts are not right' on the issue of overturning Roe v. Wade, suggesting that Republicans should fight for incremental steps, such as banning late-term abortions and requiring parental consent for abortions conducted on teenagers."- J.H. Hatfield, "Fortunate Son," 2001
"WASHINGTON - The Supreme Court set the stage for a major fall showdown over abortion Tuesday when the justices agreed to decide whether Congress can ban so-called partial-birth abortions nationwide." - San Jose Mercury News, Tuesday, February 22, 2006
Nobody can say we weren't warned.
But don't worry, I'm sure we have plenty of time to pick out our knitting needles and sterilize our coat-hangers...
"On the subject of abortion -- the core issue of religious conservatives -- he declared his support for a constitutional amendment to ban legal abortions, but said that Americans' 'hearts are not right' on the issue of overturning Roe v. Wade, suggesting that Republicans should fight for incremental steps, such as banning late-term abortions and requiring parental consent for abortions conducted on teenagers."- J.H. Hatfield, "Fortunate Son," 2001
"WASHINGTON - The Supreme Court set the stage for a major fall showdown over abortion Tuesday when the justices agreed to decide whether Congress can ban so-called partial-birth abortions nationwide." - San Jose Mercury News, Tuesday, February 22, 2006
Nobody can say we weren't warned.
But don't worry, I'm sure we have plenty of time to pick out our knitting needles and sterilize our coat-hangers...
Enemy of Our State #1
2.20.2006
Ore : 10:47 AM
Ore : 10:47 AM
"Hi, I'm Bruce McPherson, California's Secretary of State, as well as an award-winning crooked jackass"
The suggestion is out there already to call, e-mail, and write to your state senator (altho' I'm not expecting much from good ol' Wally Herger, but still...)
I would go one beyond that: not nearly enough attention has been paid by the local media to the sudden and inexcusable re-certification of Diebold's touch-screen machines by Crooked McPherson. More light needs to be shined on this, and that means your local reporters need to be making this a priority-one story. So call your local broadcasters and demand attention be given this frightening development. If necessary, threaten to go to their local advertisers, and promise to stop patronizing them if they refuse to run with this story.
Harsh, I know, but necessary.
A Breather
2.18.2006
Ore : 7:13 PM
Ore : 7:13 PM
So Jonah has yet to satisfy me. Oh well, just one more thing I have in common with his wife.
This one goes out to Troy, over at RoD, who really needs good vibes right now -- go blow him some kissez, minions.
In fact, why don't we all just sit back and enjoy the ministrations of a real man:
Besides, we've had way too much T&A around Freedom Camp lately, and you know how we prefer the cellblock love.
This one goes out to Troy, over at RoD, who really needs good vibes right now -- go blow him some kissez, minions.
In fact, why don't we all just sit back and enjoy the ministrations of a real man:
Ahhh, Tony. So refreshing it hurts.
Besides, we've had way too much T&A around Freedom Camp lately, and you know how we prefer the cellblock love.
NYET!!! This Skiffy Contravenes Party Doctrine!
Ore : 9:08 AM
Oh lordy. Once more into the breach -- and by breach I mean Roy Edroso territory. I can only imagine the Rock & Roll High School head-exploding that went on at Chez Goldberg last night. While he stops short of artistic Lysenkoism, he has to attack the show on the premise that Hollywood isn't a serious enough venue for the treatment of abortion -- as if NRO is. Please.
A digressive word on Goldberg the Pundit: Jonah is the intellectual equivalent of a mylar balloon. His whole purpose is to shore up think tank-spawned sophistries, to forward trojan horse philosophies and policy points, and to provide rationalizations and post hoc justifications for the worst behaviors of our ruling class. He is no more a deep thinker than George Clooney or Jane Fonda, or me or Nancy Pelosi -- or, for that, matter Michael Medved or that crazy 12 Galaxies street protester guy.
That said, where better to deal with such issues as abortion and euthenasia and child abuse and STDs and religion and, hell, nutrition, than in our popular art? That is precisely where our most controversial issues have been masticated and digested throughout human history -- and, it can be argued, where they must be.
But again I digress -- ideology is not the point. The point, with which Le Pantload apparently needs to be beaten as though it's a car aerial, is art. What art entails, what it requires, and what we force on it and it, in turn, forces upon us. And in televised fiction, drama is all (and BSG aspires not merely to passable drama, but to superlative drama -- whether it fully realizes those aspirations is a debate for later).
Art needs confusion and chaos and squidgy feelings that you can't fit into a box. It has bad guys who do the right things (if for the wrong reasons), and bad guys who redeem themselves. It has good guys who fail spectacularly and sometimes make decisions completely inapposite with their established characters. It needs in-between guys who just muddle through, and who sometimes don't fuck up -- that being the best they can do.
Ideology is not the point. Characters are. You create verisimilitudinous and compelling characters against a passably believable background, and everything else follows.
To wit: ten years ago, I might have merely been disappointed in Roslin's sudden unwillingness to stand by her convictions, and left it at that -- still compelled by the drama, but somewhat soured on her character. More specifically, I would have applauded the psychological realness, but her light would have dimmed a little.
Today's me is more sympathetic.
This episode found Roslin realizing just what it was she lost during the previous week's (previous month's, by the show's reckoning) hostage tragedy. Had she, instead of the slick, savvy poll-watcher with a cellphone, her beloved Billy, she would have been slapped with a reality check. Despite his nebbishy behavior, he never failed to call her on her bullshit. He was her compass, her rudder, and her anchor, like some sort of nautical Socratic Swiss-army aide thing. He was her flame, and now he's extinguished. Were he still alive, I could imagine his end of their exchange as soon as this situation came up: "Madame President, you say you've been fighting for a woman's right to control her body your whole life. But we lived in a wealthy, powerful, advanced, and egalitarian society. Now we're just getting by with the scraps we could save. My point is this: maybe your fight wasn't all that much, because it didn't need to be. Now it does.
"Madame President, there's one other person you might want to consult during your decision-making process: Captain Thrace." He may have reminded her what it really was they were fighting: an enemy that trammels human women, hooks them up to machines to turn them into captive baby factories churning out fertilized ova until their bodies simply stop.
And you know what? When Starbuck encountered one of the women, the latter was not concerned with what her priest would think; rather, she wanted to die.
Were Billy still alive, Roslin would not have to watch Baltar betray her and steal her thunder by saying the right thing (if for the wrong reason); Billy would have saved her from that.
And that's the strength of the drama, the art: that I can imagine him, a dead, second-banana character, saying and thinking all that.
This was not a tale of abortion. It was (in part) a tale of a lonely, unsure woman in a precarious position dealing with the aching echoes of final, irrevocable loss. It was minutely carved, yet surprisingly resonant, tragedy. It was not a party line.
Think about it Jonah, and try to be more sanguine about these things.
P.S. He promises to yammer on about it even more in an update where one of his readers sort of takes him to task for his obtuseness. Looks like we got a loooong day ahead of us, ladies and gents...
A digressive word on Goldberg the Pundit: Jonah is the intellectual equivalent of a mylar balloon. His whole purpose is to shore up think tank-spawned sophistries, to forward trojan horse philosophies and policy points, and to provide rationalizations and post hoc justifications for the worst behaviors of our ruling class. He is no more a deep thinker than George Clooney or Jane Fonda, or me or Nancy Pelosi -- or, for that, matter Michael Medved or that crazy 12 Galaxies street protester guy.
That said, where better to deal with such issues as abortion and euthenasia and child abuse and STDs and religion and, hell, nutrition, than in our popular art? That is precisely where our most controversial issues have been masticated and digested throughout human history -- and, it can be argued, where they must be.
But again I digress -- ideology is not the point. The point, with which Le Pantload apparently needs to be beaten as though it's a car aerial, is art. What art entails, what it requires, and what we force on it and it, in turn, forces upon us. And in televised fiction, drama is all (and BSG aspires not merely to passable drama, but to superlative drama -- whether it fully realizes those aspirations is a debate for later).
Art needs confusion and chaos and squidgy feelings that you can't fit into a box. It has bad guys who do the right things (if for the wrong reasons), and bad guys who redeem themselves. It has good guys who fail spectacularly and sometimes make decisions completely inapposite with their established characters. It needs in-between guys who just muddle through, and who sometimes don't fuck up -- that being the best they can do.
Ideology is not the point. Characters are. You create verisimilitudinous and compelling characters against a passably believable background, and everything else follows.
To wit: ten years ago, I might have merely been disappointed in Roslin's sudden unwillingness to stand by her convictions, and left it at that -- still compelled by the drama, but somewhat soured on her character. More specifically, I would have applauded the psychological realness, but her light would have dimmed a little.
Today's me is more sympathetic.
This episode found Roslin realizing just what it was she lost during the previous week's (previous month's, by the show's reckoning) hostage tragedy. Had she, instead of the slick, savvy poll-watcher with a cellphone, her beloved Billy, she would have been slapped with a reality check. Despite his nebbishy behavior, he never failed to call her on her bullshit. He was her compass, her rudder, and her anchor, like some sort of nautical Socratic Swiss-army aide thing. He was her flame, and now he's extinguished. Were he still alive, I could imagine his end of their exchange as soon as this situation came up: "Madame President, you say you've been fighting for a woman's right to control her body your whole life. But we lived in a wealthy, powerful, advanced, and egalitarian society. Now we're just getting by with the scraps we could save. My point is this: maybe your fight wasn't all that much, because it didn't need to be. Now it does.
"Madame President, there's one other person you might want to consult during your decision-making process: Captain Thrace." He may have reminded her what it really was they were fighting: an enemy that trammels human women, hooks them up to machines to turn them into captive baby factories churning out fertilized ova until their bodies simply stop.
And you know what? When Starbuck encountered one of the women, the latter was not concerned with what her priest would think; rather, she wanted to die.
Were Billy still alive, Roslin would not have to watch Baltar betray her and steal her thunder by saying the right thing (if for the wrong reason); Billy would have saved her from that.
And that's the strength of the drama, the art: that I can imagine him, a dead, second-banana character, saying and thinking all that.
This was not a tale of abortion. It was (in part) a tale of a lonely, unsure woman in a precarious position dealing with the aching echoes of final, irrevocable loss. It was minutely carved, yet surprisingly resonant, tragedy. It was not a party line.
Think about it Jonah, and try to be more sanguine about these things.
P.S. He promises to yammer on about it even more in an update where one of his readers sort of takes him to task for his obtuseness. Looks like we got a loooong day ahead of us, ladies and gents...
Lay-Z Friday Musings
2.17.2006
Ore : 9:19 AM
Ore : 9:19 AM
* When will to "pull a Cheney" enter our lexicon as a euphemism for ejaculating in your partner's face?
* Republican ad-lib alert: Okay guys, replace in this headline, "Gonzales won't step aside in Abramoff case," every instance of "Gonzales" with "Reno," and every instance of "Abramoff" with any Clinton scandal you can think of (I trust you guys to be able to come up with volumes), and see how it sits with you.
*
Were phrenology not a dead, discredited science, I'd diagnose this as the face of a closet lynching fan. Seriously, he may be from Ohio, but this is exactly the kind of smarmy, self-satisfied, pious, hard Uncle Charlie face that gives little Southern black children nightmares.
Ooh, yeah, I know, call a blogger ethics panel.
* Can republiconservatarians please at least be consistent in their dune coon-bashing? Upon Dhimmi al Gore's treasonous speech to a pack of camel jockeys, howling outrage; upon our Republican-controlled government's turning over our port security to an UAE state-owned company, nada. What gives? (RedStaters and LGFers, I'm lookin' at you in particular.)
* Glenn, you've made a much-needed point definitively and with aplomb. Anyway, as someone may have told you in your comments (I haven't looked), there's a reason we call him Captain Quarterbrain.
* Republican ad-lib alert: Okay guys, replace in this headline, "Gonzales won't step aside in Abramoff case," every instance of "Gonzales" with "Reno," and every instance of "Abramoff" with any Clinton scandal you can think of (I trust you guys to be able to come up with volumes), and see how it sits with you.
*
Were phrenology not a dead, discredited science, I'd diagnose this as the face of a closet lynching fan. Seriously, he may be from Ohio, but this is exactly the kind of smarmy, self-satisfied, pious, hard Uncle Charlie face that gives little Southern black children nightmares.Ooh, yeah, I know, call a blogger ethics panel.
* Can republiconservatarians please at least be consistent in their dune coon-bashing? Upon Dhimmi al Gore's treasonous speech to a pack of camel jockeys, howling outrage; upon our Republican-controlled government's turning over our port security to an UAE state-owned company, nada. What gives? (RedStaters and LGFers, I'm lookin' at you in particular.)
* Glenn, you've made a much-needed point definitively and with aplomb. Anyway, as someone may have told you in your comments (I haven't looked), there's a reason we call him Captain Quarterbrain.
Plus I Heard She Slept With The Knights Templar...
2.15.2006
Ore : 11:05 PM
Ore : 11:05 PM
The Internet, as we know, is littered with millions of theories of who really pulls the strings, whose agenda is ultimately being served, who truly is In Control. While right-wingers have for years kept trying to sell us black-helicopters and New World Orders and flouridated water, the kooky left has barely been able to get a word in edgewise. And the status quo keeps getting status quoer.
This will not stand here at Freedom Camp, where my life in orange jumpsuits has become so full of orange-glazed chicken and orangeish cigarette burns on my bum, I no longer fear death. Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, I pull back the curtain and reveal the true master of the Illuminati.
Who is behind it all? Who was the agent ultimately responsible for the deaths of JFK, Jacopo Belbo, and Tab Cola?
Well, let me just share with you these three key quotes (one major Key in question here being the letter "C"), and allow you to connect the dots...
"I'm the guy who pulled the trigger and shot my friend, and that's something I'll never forget... The image of him falling is something I will never be able to get out my mind. It was one of the worst days of my life."
"I've spent a lot of time the last six months thinking how things could have been done differently." Chertoff said of Katrina, it was "one of the most difficult incidents of my life."
"Like this time I sort of ran over this girl on her bike. It was the most traumatizing event of my life, and she's trying to make it about her leg! Like my pain meant nothing."
That's right, none other than partial-demon, Valley girl deb from hell Cordelia Chase herself is calling all the shots. I expect the Queen C to send piano wire-brandishing goons towards my cell any minute now.
Time is short, and perhaps I haven't made my case conclusively, but it would be irresponsible for us not to speculate...
This will not stand here at Freedom Camp, where my life in orange jumpsuits has become so full of orange-glazed chicken and orangeish cigarette burns on my bum, I no longer fear death. Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, I pull back the curtain and reveal the true master of the Illuminati.
Who is behind it all? Who was the agent ultimately responsible for the deaths of JFK, Jacopo Belbo, and Tab Cola?
Well, let me just share with you these three key quotes (one major Key in question here being the letter "C"), and allow you to connect the dots...
"I'm the guy who pulled the trigger and shot my friend, and that's something I'll never forget... The image of him falling is something I will never be able to get out my mind. It was one of the worst days of my life.""I've spent a lot of time the last six months thinking how things could have been done differently." Chertoff said of Katrina, it was "one of the most difficult incidents of my life.""Like this time I sort of ran over this girl on her bike. It was the most traumatizing event of my life, and she's trying to make it about her leg! Like my pain meant nothing."That's right, none other than partial-demon, Valley girl deb from hell Cordelia Chase herself is calling all the shots. I expect the Queen C to send piano wire-brandishing goons towards my cell any minute now.
Time is short, and perhaps I haven't made my case conclusively, but it would be irresponsible for us not to speculate...
Better Than A Poke In The Eye...
Ore : 7:05 AM
No, not what you think, sickos. I once slept with this artsy boy from Köln who absolutely adored Mamie Van Doren, an affinity I pretty much rolled my eyes at (blanket excuse: I was 22 at the time). Yesterday I caught her mug in Tom Ford's mostly less-than-satisfying and occasionally head-scratching Hollywood portfolio (more on that later) in the new Vanity Fair. Now I think I understand why. And yes, she's much more than just tongue-in-cheek kitsch.
Light posting for a bit as my back is currently despising me for the very ill-advised act of pushing a car off a tow trolly...
Credit Where Credit Is Due... Sort Of
2.14.2006
Ore : 5:36 AM
Ore : 5:36 AM
"I think our motto should be post-9-11, 'raghead talks tough, raghead faces consequences.'" - Ann Coulter, CPAC, Feb. 10, 2006
"Ann says many deliberately provocative things. This one was spectacularly ill-chosen and ill-timed. I want the young conservatives who attended CPAC--particularly young conservative Muslims--to know that not everyone uses that kind of epithet." - Michelle Malkin, Feb. 12, 2006
Wow. Okay, so it almost wasn't a real condemnation of Ann's behavior. And yeah, getting this from her was like pulling teeth, and yeah, she scrabbled desperately for some sort of equivalent behavior to point to on the left (and finding none, I might add; she never did quite find time to post a link to even one of the alleged thousands of left-wing posts referring to her as a "'...gook' or a 'chink' or a 'filipina whore'"). And I mean, with her previous assertion that the American right polices its own, she had pretty much painted herself into a corner -- she had to come up with something like this. But still, you know? Gold star for effort, Michelle. We know that one hurt.
"Ann says many deliberately provocative things. This one was spectacularly ill-chosen and ill-timed. I want the young conservatives who attended CPAC--particularly young conservative Muslims--to know that not everyone uses that kind of epithet." - Michelle Malkin, Feb. 12, 2006
Wow. Okay, so it almost wasn't a real condemnation of Ann's behavior. And yeah, getting this from her was like pulling teeth, and yeah, she scrabbled desperately for some sort of equivalent behavior to point to on the left (and finding none, I might add; she never did quite find time to post a link to even one of the alleged thousands of left-wing posts referring to her as a "'...gook' or a 'chink' or a 'filipina whore'"). And I mean, with her previous assertion that the American right polices its own, she had pretty much painted herself into a corner -- she had to come up with something like this. But still, you know? Gold star for effort, Michelle. We know that one hurt.
The Puzzle of La Lohan
2.13.2006
Ore : 9:51 AM
Ore : 9:51 AM
The breasts, if fake (which I don't believe), are an investment. Who knows how many times they've saved this dizzy bitch's life when she gets behind the wheel? Seriously, do you know? 'Cos I don't. Help me out here.
Simply put, like global warming or George W. Bush or the Drug War, one needs to have an opinion on Lindsay Lohan. You really can't hedge on it -- you can't pretend. But I've been putting this off for a while, as I really had no idea what to make of her.
My instincts lead me to like her. I mean, she's so clearly a troubled child. For one thing, her father is an evil dipshit, and good on her for putting his abusive ass in its place. That resonates with me. The girl boinked Bruce Willis for goodness' sakes -- where the hell did that come from, you know? Oh, and when the PR people, as if in negotiations, settle for a cover story of anorexia/bulimia, you just know the real problem was meth. No joke. And the music career has been, like, the most spectacular train wreck ever.
And during interviews, she seems so lovely. Yet I must add, and stress, calculatedly lovely. She may very well be a sociopath. But if so, she's a successful one -- one who has stolen my heart.
How about you?
Yeah, girl, I feel you.
Okay, So You Bitchez Asked For It
2.12.2006
Ore : 2:07 PM
Ore : 2:07 PM
My parents had taken my brother to the city of Chico for the day. I had pretended to be sick. I was still in bed when the trickling started. It sounded like someone had opened up a tap in a firehose. I went to the living room window to investigate.
Doug was outside, pissing in the yard.
I was flabbergasted. Here was this man, my neighbor: fat, bearded, hairy, who had just last week told my dad "I need a fuckin blowjob, man", to which my dad had said "you stay the fuck away from my son." Already I had washed this man's Ben Davis slacks in my machine. The inner thigh had pearly splooey dribbled all over it.
Yeah, he was a filthy mess. I thought he was "gross." Just another dipshit lookin' for poontang, and sometimes, like the proverbial blind squirrel sussing out a nut, finding it.
Yet here was the man's cock. Fat and sweet, just flopping there like a fire hose, piss streaming out of it onto the gravel. An organ of fucking beauty if I've ever seen one.
Okay. I'm 15 -- Pinko, Ray, the bearded, fat lumberjackoff you guys know has yet to become reality. I'm just a smooth fuckin' twink. A callow little shit. Doug is 32, a talented mechanic, good with his fingers. It's summer, and he favors shirtlessness. He smells like armpits and Quaker State. He's in good, toned shape, save for his beer-belly. He's bearded, the way you guys have seen me. More important, he knows how to work it. When he's pissed somebody off, or has said something untoward, he flashes a grin, those straight, blindingly white, Germanic-Irish teeth shining sweetly, playfully, through a thick, reddish-brown beard, and everything is okay. It's all just fine.
He's a fuckin' Adonis.
Today I have much greater appreciation for the powers of his youth. Doug knew how to work it.
He continued to piss, and then, strangely, looked towards the screened-in window. As if by sixth sense, he knew I was staring at his fat appendage. He made his way towards the house...
"BANG BANG BANG" he went at the doublewide trailer door. I was petrified. Should I pretend not to be home? I was 15, and already I had a sexual predator, a man I know, his fat dick popped out of his dolphin shorts, pounding at my door. I was almost a pussy about the whole deal. Almost.
I opened the door. "Hey Doug, what's up?"
"Not much." He flashed that winning smile at me. "What about you? You get an eyeful?"
I stood stock-still. I had to play this right. I was scared witless, yet I was horny as all fuckin' get out. Teenage hormones, yeah? Imagine, my heterosexual gentleman readers, if you will, a hot, topless 17 year-old (Lindsay Lohanesque, okay?) pounding at your door, who so clearly wants your searing fat rod slipped into her. That's sort of what I was goin' through.
Only this man wanted to lay the pipe in yours truly. Or at least, in any convenient, tight, warm, wet hole. "Hey Doug," I said, so nervous you could have etched glass with my fingernails. "Come on in."
He gave his trademark white, "evil fucker" grin through that kick-ass beard of his. My asshole was seriously fucking tingling at this point. I knew what I wanted, and I knew what was coming.
I looked him dead in his pretty brown eyes. "Seriously though, you askin'?"
"I ain't askin'. I'm tellin'."
"Well then shit mutherfucker pull down them ugly fuckin' shorts, man, and sit your ass down on the couch." Cheesy, I know, but you have no fuckin' clue how hard and nervous I was at this point.
He exhaled deeply, gave a moue of assent, nodded his head, his thick beard smooshing against his hairy, narrow. muscular chest, and just shoved his shorts down. His dick, already tumescent, bounced against his hairy belly and came to rest pointing exactly at my line of sight. I was struck by how oddly graceful yet clumsy it appeared. I was touched, and in fact, moved..
I got on my knees, and took it in hand.
It was big. The man was half a head shorter than I am, and clearly filled with unwarranted bluster. But his dick was easily eight and a half inches long -- tanned, uncut, and thick as a beer can.
"I appreciate it man. I needed some pussy, but it wasn't forthcoming. Thanks for filling in, dude."
He seriously fucking said that. Just like a porno novel. Meanwhile, I was gripping the base of his dick with forefinger and thumb, staring that huge, fat, piss-stinking slit-eye in the face. I mean, I'd put myself down for it, but privately, I was worried. This shit was huge. How was I not going to gag?
I started small, working the flaring, robust dickhead, massaging it with my tongue and upper lip.
"Oh holy fuck," he let out in guttural tones. This is about the moment when I figured out that girls aren't naturally good at blow-jobs, and in fact need to be trained.
Boys, however, are. Empathy and awareness colored every lick, every stroke. I got adventurous. I pulled it down farther. At one point, the tip of his glans hit the back of my throat; his balls banged my chin. I almost gagged, but I got my shit under control.
He noticed the effort I was putting in. "Goddamn boy, you are good. I really apprec-- OH FUCK YEAH! -- I appreciate it. Thank you."
I kept stroking him with my throat, too scared to speak up, too afraid I'd ruin a 15 year-old faggot's greatest dream if I let loose with my typical, gravelly tones. What he needed right now, I thought, was to lean his head back, close his eyes, and pretend a 15 year-old girl was working his sweet shaft.
He dragged a calloused, greasy, gnarled, conciliatory hand along my jawline.
"Hey man, it's okay, I'm not gonna pop you for suckin' me or nothin'..." His voice was all sweet, all smiles.
"I just wanna check out your hole is all." He runs his thick, horned, index finger down my ass crack.
He giggles a bit. "Hey man, you're kinda tight. Mind if I break you in with some crisco?"
I am of course scared shitless. But I've already experimented, during my masturbatory sessions, with sticking stuff up my ass, and I've already learned to appreciate the power of the prostate gland.
"It's above the stove," I say, fighting to maintain my nonchalance.
He stares me down, mouth open, and then nods. "You know, if you're cool with it, I want to take you in the shower."
"Yeah, okay."
I head for the bathroom and start the hot water. He clearly can't wait. As I'm massaging myself in the stream of hot water, Doug's pointing a wad of vegetable shortening at me, and then poking it at my butt. He sticks his thick middle finger up my ass. It burns, but I take it.
Then he greases up his pole. I watch him, watch him pull back the filthy foreskin and grease up the soft head, then the thick shaft, of his big dick. He sneers senselessly as he does so. Then he takes two steps forward. Meanwhile, I'm "presenting" like I'm one of them chimp bitches in the national fuckin' geographic. He somehow squeezes the fat head of his dick into my asshole.
God it fuckin' burns.
But I ain't sayin shit. He turns me on, and I want him balls-deep, and I ain't gonna let anything get in the way of that.
Goddamn he's fuckin' thick. Goddamn it hurts.
He starts moaning like a fucking pussy. He groans and throws his head back as he penetrates me. His fat belly smashes against the small of my back. The front of his low-hanging balls smack against the back of mine. I start gettin' hard. He, manliness notwithstanding, grips the shaft of my dick, and starts jerking me. Pulls my foreskin back so fast it practically fucking rips.
That's when it hits me. Like a fuckin' freight train: I'm gettin' fucked real good. The man knows how to lay some mutherfuckin' pipe. I get it. I really do.
The big fat spongey head of his hard dick hits my prostate, and keeps punchin' it. Yeah, I'm lettin' him fuck me raw. Why? Well fuck, I don't know. I'm 15 and stupid and listenin' to Blondie and Joe Strummer and I'm a stupid badass and don't give a shit about nothin'. And then comes the definition of beauty: He screams, whines, and whimpers. His dick pulses in my ass, throbs and fucking pulses, until... He lets loose a howl, and rests the side of his sweet, bearded face against my back. He lets loose a thick fucking geyser of lava in my open ass. He sprays his baby-batter all over my gut. God it feels good.
And then he kisses me. Full on, on the mouth. He sticks his tongue down my fuckin' throat. It's sweet. It's kind. He tastes like cigarillos.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the moment I lost my virginity.
God that stupid piece of grease-monkey shit was a good kisser.
You know, I saw him recently, in the Wal-Mart parking lot. He looked at me, gave me that trademark grin, and shook his head, and that trademark beard (now gray, and much longer) shook. Goddamn. He's still hot as fuck.
And I'd still do him. He's still a pretty boy.
Doug was outside, pissing in the yard.
I was flabbergasted. Here was this man, my neighbor: fat, bearded, hairy, who had just last week told my dad "I need a fuckin blowjob, man", to which my dad had said "you stay the fuck away from my son." Already I had washed this man's Ben Davis slacks in my machine. The inner thigh had pearly splooey dribbled all over it.
Yeah, he was a filthy mess. I thought he was "gross." Just another dipshit lookin' for poontang, and sometimes, like the proverbial blind squirrel sussing out a nut, finding it.
Yet here was the man's cock. Fat and sweet, just flopping there like a fire hose, piss streaming out of it onto the gravel. An organ of fucking beauty if I've ever seen one.
Okay. I'm 15 -- Pinko, Ray, the bearded, fat lumberjackoff you guys know has yet to become reality. I'm just a smooth fuckin' twink. A callow little shit. Doug is 32, a talented mechanic, good with his fingers. It's summer, and he favors shirtlessness. He smells like armpits and Quaker State. He's in good, toned shape, save for his beer-belly. He's bearded, the way you guys have seen me. More important, he knows how to work it. When he's pissed somebody off, or has said something untoward, he flashes a grin, those straight, blindingly white, Germanic-Irish teeth shining sweetly, playfully, through a thick, reddish-brown beard, and everything is okay. It's all just fine.
He's a fuckin' Adonis.
Today I have much greater appreciation for the powers of his youth. Doug knew how to work it.
He continued to piss, and then, strangely, looked towards the screened-in window. As if by sixth sense, he knew I was staring at his fat appendage. He made his way towards the house...
"BANG BANG BANG" he went at the doublewide trailer door. I was petrified. Should I pretend not to be home? I was 15, and already I had a sexual predator, a man I know, his fat dick popped out of his dolphin shorts, pounding at my door. I was almost a pussy about the whole deal. Almost.
I opened the door. "Hey Doug, what's up?"
"Not much." He flashed that winning smile at me. "What about you? You get an eyeful?"
I stood stock-still. I had to play this right. I was scared witless, yet I was horny as all fuckin' get out. Teenage hormones, yeah? Imagine, my heterosexual gentleman readers, if you will, a hot, topless 17 year-old (Lindsay Lohanesque, okay?) pounding at your door, who so clearly wants your searing fat rod slipped into her. That's sort of what I was goin' through.
Only this man wanted to lay the pipe in yours truly. Or at least, in any convenient, tight, warm, wet hole. "Hey Doug," I said, so nervous you could have etched glass with my fingernails. "Come on in."
He gave his trademark white, "evil fucker" grin through that kick-ass beard of his. My asshole was seriously fucking tingling at this point. I knew what I wanted, and I knew what was coming.
I looked him dead in his pretty brown eyes. "Seriously though, you askin'?"
"I ain't askin'. I'm tellin'."
"Well then shit mutherfucker pull down them ugly fuckin' shorts, man, and sit your ass down on the couch." Cheesy, I know, but you have no fuckin' clue how hard and nervous I was at this point.
He exhaled deeply, gave a moue of assent, nodded his head, his thick beard smooshing against his hairy, narrow. muscular chest, and just shoved his shorts down. His dick, already tumescent, bounced against his hairy belly and came to rest pointing exactly at my line of sight. I was struck by how oddly graceful yet clumsy it appeared. I was touched, and in fact, moved..
I got on my knees, and took it in hand.
It was big. The man was half a head shorter than I am, and clearly filled with unwarranted bluster. But his dick was easily eight and a half inches long -- tanned, uncut, and thick as a beer can.
"I appreciate it man. I needed some pussy, but it wasn't forthcoming. Thanks for filling in, dude."
He seriously fucking said that. Just like a porno novel. Meanwhile, I was gripping the base of his dick with forefinger and thumb, staring that huge, fat, piss-stinking slit-eye in the face. I mean, I'd put myself down for it, but privately, I was worried. This shit was huge. How was I not going to gag?
I started small, working the flaring, robust dickhead, massaging it with my tongue and upper lip.
"Oh holy fuck," he let out in guttural tones. This is about the moment when I figured out that girls aren't naturally good at blow-jobs, and in fact need to be trained.
Boys, however, are. Empathy and awareness colored every lick, every stroke. I got adventurous. I pulled it down farther. At one point, the tip of his glans hit the back of my throat; his balls banged my chin. I almost gagged, but I got my shit under control.
He noticed the effort I was putting in. "Goddamn boy, you are good. I really apprec-- OH FUCK YEAH! -- I appreciate it. Thank you."
I kept stroking him with my throat, too scared to speak up, too afraid I'd ruin a 15 year-old faggot's greatest dream if I let loose with my typical, gravelly tones. What he needed right now, I thought, was to lean his head back, close his eyes, and pretend a 15 year-old girl was working his sweet shaft.
He dragged a calloused, greasy, gnarled, conciliatory hand along my jawline.
"Hey man, it's okay, I'm not gonna pop you for suckin' me or nothin'..." His voice was all sweet, all smiles.
"I just wanna check out your hole is all." He runs his thick, horned, index finger down my ass crack.
He giggles a bit. "Hey man, you're kinda tight. Mind if I break you in with some crisco?"
I am of course scared shitless. But I've already experimented, during my masturbatory sessions, with sticking stuff up my ass, and I've already learned to appreciate the power of the prostate gland.
"It's above the stove," I say, fighting to maintain my nonchalance.
He stares me down, mouth open, and then nods. "You know, if you're cool with it, I want to take you in the shower."
"Yeah, okay."
I head for the bathroom and start the hot water. He clearly can't wait. As I'm massaging myself in the stream of hot water, Doug's pointing a wad of vegetable shortening at me, and then poking it at my butt. He sticks his thick middle finger up my ass. It burns, but I take it.
Then he greases up his pole. I watch him, watch him pull back the filthy foreskin and grease up the soft head, then the thick shaft, of his big dick. He sneers senselessly as he does so. Then he takes two steps forward. Meanwhile, I'm "presenting" like I'm one of them chimp bitches in the national fuckin' geographic. He somehow squeezes the fat head of his dick into my asshole.
God it fuckin' burns.
But I ain't sayin shit. He turns me on, and I want him balls-deep, and I ain't gonna let anything get in the way of that.
Goddamn he's fuckin' thick. Goddamn it hurts.
He starts moaning like a fucking pussy. He groans and throws his head back as he penetrates me. His fat belly smashes against the small of my back. The front of his low-hanging balls smack against the back of mine. I start gettin' hard. He, manliness notwithstanding, grips the shaft of my dick, and starts jerking me. Pulls my foreskin back so fast it practically fucking rips.
That's when it hits me. Like a fuckin' freight train: I'm gettin' fucked real good. The man knows how to lay some mutherfuckin' pipe. I get it. I really do.
The big fat spongey head of his hard dick hits my prostate, and keeps punchin' it. Yeah, I'm lettin' him fuck me raw. Why? Well fuck, I don't know. I'm 15 and stupid and listenin' to Blondie and Joe Strummer and I'm a stupid badass and don't give a shit about nothin'. And then comes the definition of beauty: He screams, whines, and whimpers. His dick pulses in my ass, throbs and fucking pulses, until... He lets loose a howl, and rests the side of his sweet, bearded face against my back. He lets loose a thick fucking geyser of lava in my open ass. He sprays his baby-batter all over my gut. God it feels good.
And then he kisses me. Full on, on the mouth. He sticks his tongue down my fuckin' throat. It's sweet. It's kind. He tastes like cigarillos.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the moment I lost my virginity.
God that stupid piece of grease-monkey shit was a good kisser.
You know, I saw him recently, in the Wal-Mart parking lot. He looked at me, gave me that trademark grin, and shook his head, and that trademark beard (now gray, and much longer) shook. Goddamn. He's still hot as fuck.
And I'd still do him. He's still a pretty boy.
Articles Domestiques
2.11.2006
Ore : 4:55 PM
Ore : 4:55 PM
* It saddens me that children love me and yet I still react to them the way most people react to scorpions. That said, I'm proud that I've become as personable as I have as a librarian. I was glad today to play with one patron's kids as she dicked around online. Her daughter was way sweet, if too huggy for my liking. Were it not for her older (oddly awestruck -- must've been the oh-so-professional-looking cardigan) brother saving my ass now and again so I could continue to shelve books and process applications, I would have thrown her bony little Injun ass out the window. Whew.
* Powercop allows you to train your kids to more peacefully accept the yoke of fascism when they grow up.
* I will stop eating cheap-ass Valentine's cookies as soon as I can no longer see my own penis.
* This is drunk blogging. Learn to cope.
* Goddamn I need dick. Like seriously. I need a man. I don't care what he looks like, I don't care how much he loves pussy on the side, so long as he's hard and kinda hairy and willing to do just about anything. He can be bald, hair on his back, fugly, warty, stupid, I don't fucking care. Fuck I'm horny. And as a thoughtful, versatile cornholer, I'd be just as happy to have a guy lay pipe in me as I would be to fuck him up the butt.
* I keep running into these girls I went to high school with, but who now have different last names, and I never catch their last names, so I can't catch up with them at my leisure until I run into them again... It really sucks.
* Hey, how would you guys like for me to recount in detail the day I lost my virginity? Mind you, it would be very gay porny and might upset some of the straight boys in the audience; I was fifteen and the deflowerer was a 32 year-old grease monkey... Want more? Say yes in the comments.
* Are you high? Why the fuck are you high? Have some water... This is a professional fucking operation, bitch. You really need to tone it down. WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU HIGH???
* What, Troy, am I a friggin' leper or what? I sent you some sweet ass porn, and I can't get even one single solitary "thank you"?
* Did you know that we West-coasters (Washingtonians, Oregonians and Californians) have a distinctive dialect? And that Japanese folk absolutely adore it? They talk major shit about Englishmen and Scotsmen and Italians and Germans and Australians and American East Coasters and Southerners, and think that we have majorly lovely, soft, kind accents? It's true.
* When world affairs get to be too much to handle, and my brain threatens to rebel against me with a heinous aneurysm or some such, I just turn to Alex, and his visage takes me away like Calgon.
* Powercop allows you to train your kids to more peacefully accept the yoke of fascism when they grow up.
* I will stop eating cheap-ass Valentine's cookies as soon as I can no longer see my own penis.
* This is drunk blogging. Learn to cope.
* Goddamn I need dick. Like seriously. I need a man. I don't care what he looks like, I don't care how much he loves pussy on the side, so long as he's hard and kinda hairy and willing to do just about anything. He can be bald, hair on his back, fugly, warty, stupid, I don't fucking care. Fuck I'm horny. And as a thoughtful, versatile cornholer, I'd be just as happy to have a guy lay pipe in me as I would be to fuck him up the butt.
* I keep running into these girls I went to high school with, but who now have different last names, and I never catch their last names, so I can't catch up with them at my leisure until I run into them again... It really sucks.
* Hey, how would you guys like for me to recount in detail the day I lost my virginity? Mind you, it would be very gay porny and might upset some of the straight boys in the audience; I was fifteen and the deflowerer was a 32 year-old grease monkey... Want more? Say yes in the comments.
* Are you high? Why the fuck are you high? Have some water... This is a professional fucking operation, bitch. You really need to tone it down. WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU HIGH???
* What, Troy, am I a friggin' leper or what? I sent you some sweet ass porn, and I can't get even one single solitary "thank you"?
* Did you know that we West-coasters (Washingtonians, Oregonians and Californians) have a distinctive dialect? And that Japanese folk absolutely adore it? They talk major shit about Englishmen and Scotsmen and Italians and Germans and Australians and American East Coasters and Southerners, and think that we have majorly lovely, soft, kind accents? It's true.
* When world affairs get to be too much to handle, and my brain threatens to rebel against me with a heinous aneurysm or some such, I just turn to Alex, and his visage takes me away like Calgon.
Ahhh... Alexandre
* Based on production and ability and artistic merit alone, I would judge The National as being this month's most fuckable band. And by that I mean all at once -- none of this one-at-a-time-take-your-turn shit.
* Sparky moves through every second of her waking life as though she's done something bad and will any minute be punished for it. My take? She was born and raised in a violently abusive household. Poor girl. And yes, I feel bad for drinking right now, as though I'm going to excite her post-traumatic stress disorder tendencies. Goddamnit.
*Seriously, though, I would totally bust Michael Shepard's ass open, no matter how sucky his music is.
* Hey fulsome: I just now heard "Numb" by Sia. Okay, you're forgiven past transgressions. She really doesn't know anything about music. And in a good way: she sounds completely different in every single fucking song. Whaddup wit' dat?
* Sorry, but I'm way out of touch: Has the Velvet Underground's (now with even more Nico!!!) "Femme Fatale" been in some recent movie's soundtrack or something? Because bitch-ass Sirius 26 Left of Center (ha!) has been playing it non-stop. Unfortunately, they've been playing a really shitty recording of it, and that has been pissing me off to no end.
UPDATE: Troy, I'm sorry I ever doubted you. That is some kick-ass pr0n in my in-box. Honey: you and I need to hook up if your Texas ass ever ends up in the fair Republic of California..
Obligatory Toon Post
2.10.2006
Ore : 8:18 AM
Ore : 8:18 AM
So some folks on the right are in high dudgeon (surprise!), this time because, as they see it, folks on the left are just too damn silent on this whole cartoon issue.
Why? Hypocrisy? Who knows! Who can fathom why other crazy moonbats do and say what they do, except that I'm sure that they are sure that their every move is calculated to demolish Western Civ as we know it.
No: far be it from me to speak for other leftists. All I can do is disavow my mealy-mouthed brethren, and proudly proclaim my heretofore secret allegiance to the dark principles of Splodeydope Islamofascism. To quote my beloved teacher Khalid Al-Gebra, no less than one of Osama bin Laden's myriad Number 2s according to Bush's PR team, "Dirka Dirka Mohammed Jihad! Dirka Sharia! Allahu Akbar! Dirka Dirka!!" Which, near as I can translate (I don't speak Arabickernese) means something along the lines of "wash my feet you filthy catamite if we were in my country you would have been stoned to death at 16," or something like that.
You may ask, "Why he treat you like he do when he such a good man?" But whatever -- I'm a leftist! I have no sense! I just love him is all.
Which is why words cannot describe how thrilled I was to read this:
A top Taliban commander has offered a reward of 100 kilograms of gold to anyone who kills the person responsible for "blasphemous" cartoons of the Prophet Muhammed, the Afghan Islamic Press (AIP) has reported.
How marvelous! I was sure that the pious fundamentalists of the Taliban, the Godly Afghani regime which had so kindly sheltered and supported my beloved teacher and his superior, had been completely rooted out by the evil imperialist West. I mean, George W., hubristic yet mighty Cowboy Crusader of the prophet Jesus (PBUH), had vowed, had he not, to avenge the completely unforseen and therefore unpreventable attacks of 9/11 by taking the fight to Afghanistan and not giving up until that country was another Lebanon or, even more horrific, another UAE? So what happened?
Dunno. Maybe he got distracted. I mean, brown people, you know? They all look the same...
I'm sorry, were we talking about cartoons?
Allahu Akbar, bitchez.
Why? Hypocrisy? Who knows! Who can fathom why other crazy moonbats do and say what they do, except that I'm sure that they are sure that their every move is calculated to demolish Western Civ as we know it.
No: far be it from me to speak for other leftists. All I can do is disavow my mealy-mouthed brethren, and proudly proclaim my heretofore secret allegiance to the dark principles of Splodeydope Islamofascism. To quote my beloved teacher Khalid Al-Gebra, no less than one of Osama bin Laden's myriad Number 2s according to Bush's PR team, "Dirka Dirka Mohammed Jihad! Dirka Sharia! Allahu Akbar! Dirka Dirka!!" Which, near as I can translate (I don't speak Arabickernese) means something along the lines of "wash my feet you filthy catamite if we were in my country you would have been stoned to death at 16," or something like that.
It's funny because it's true! LOLOMFG I 4m teh pWn3d!!1!!1
You may ask, "Why he treat you like he do when he such a good man?" But whatever -- I'm a leftist! I have no sense! I just love him is all.
Which is why words cannot describe how thrilled I was to read this:
A top Taliban commander has offered a reward of 100 kilograms of gold to anyone who kills the person responsible for "blasphemous" cartoons of the Prophet Muhammed, the Afghan Islamic Press (AIP) has reported.
How marvelous! I was sure that the pious fundamentalists of the Taliban, the Godly Afghani regime which had so kindly sheltered and supported my beloved teacher and his superior, had been completely rooted out by the evil imperialist West. I mean, George W., hubristic yet mighty Cowboy Crusader of the prophet Jesus (PBUH), had vowed, had he not, to avenge the completely unforseen and therefore unpreventable attacks of 9/11 by taking the fight to Afghanistan and not giving up until that country was another Lebanon or, even more horrific, another UAE? So what happened?
Dunno. Maybe he got distracted. I mean, brown people, you know? They all look the same...
I'm sorry, were we talking about cartoons?
Allahu Akbar, bitchez.
Thanks, But I'd Rather Breathe Cyanide
2.09.2006
Ore : 9:29 AM
Ore : 9:29 AM
It begins: a slow, wrought-iron pretty arpeggio played in the full, rounded notes of a high-quality baby grand. The tiny lipsmack, the breathy, quavering. slightly slavering contralto. The introspective, angsty girl lyrics.
Uh-oh, Tori's come full circle, releasing a Little Earthquake-style single. Ah well, it had to happen sometime.
But wait, the player IDs the artist as Sia.
I'm suddenly dragged back to the benighted early/mid-90s, when, faggoty little Toriphile that I was, I couldn't stand those ninnies with the dyed-red hair and crushed velour pants, pounding the ivories inexpertly and screeching their way to a dick-free lovelife. I hated them so much I felt sorry for them. I was glad when that phase seemed to have passed; I figured they'd all got a new schtick, or spun out of sight into Rainbow Gathering oblivion. Or, you know, grew up.
But apparently, some survived. Now we've got Sia. Lucky us.
Fucking fairies. Fairies and mescaline loopiness and rape. Can't forget the rape.
I guess what I'm trying to say is this: Sia, we have Tori exactly where we want her. And if she comes out with another album, we'll give it a gander. We may even praise some of the new material. But you? You need to stop it -- right the fuck now. You're hurting America.
Fucking twee, bitch-ass fairies. Fuck.
Uh-oh, Tori's come full circle, releasing a Little Earthquake-style single. Ah well, it had to happen sometime.
But wait, the player IDs the artist as Sia.
I'm suddenly dragged back to the benighted early/mid-90s, when, faggoty little Toriphile that I was, I couldn't stand those ninnies with the dyed-red hair and crushed velour pants, pounding the ivories inexpertly and screeching their way to a dick-free lovelife. I hated them so much I felt sorry for them. I was glad when that phase seemed to have passed; I figured they'd all got a new schtick, or spun out of sight into Rainbow Gathering oblivion. Or, you know, grew up.
But apparently, some survived. Now we've got Sia. Lucky us.
Fucking fairies. Fairies and mescaline loopiness and rape. Can't forget the rape.
I guess what I'm trying to say is this: Sia, we have Tori exactly where we want her. And if she comes out with another album, we'll give it a gander. We may even praise some of the new material. But you? You need to stop it -- right the fuck now. You're hurting America.
Fucking twee, bitch-ass fairies. Fuck.
Nepal
Ore : 7:35 AM
This is just sad. If King Gyanendra and his monarchist supporters want to really undercut the Maoist rebels, they must refrain from squeezing so hard. I hate to side with a Bush administration official, but they really do need to relinquish more power, engage in dialogue with all interested parties, and perhaps even invite consultation and aid from India and other democratic nations. It's counterintuitive, I know, but (and I write the following fully aware of how nasty and violent the insurgents have been), the longer he responds only with iron-fisted brute force, the more doors will close for the Nepalese people, until their only two options become either a despotic autocracy, or a Maoist state that's essentially a puppet of the PRC (ie, Tibet revisited, but without the world's sympathy-eliciting element of the Dalai Lama and his court -- Nepal might get Bono to caterwaul on her behalf, but the Beastie Boys could be otherwise engaged).
Gyanendra has made lots of noise in the past about submitting to free and open elections, but he seems to have done too much that would preclude their taking place. Past interviews certainly led me to believe he comprehends the importance of democratic reform, and the legitimacy that only such processes can bestow. But then, maybe none of us truly know him; maybe he's merely using the insurgency as an excuse to consolidate his power. I hope the latter is not the case. And if it truly isn't, he needs to be strong and brave enough to offer more than lip-service, or the insurgents will win by succeeding in turning the country of Nepal against itself, ultimately leading to the destabilization of the whole region.
Gyanendra has made lots of noise in the past about submitting to free and open elections, but he seems to have done too much that would preclude their taking place. Past interviews certainly led me to believe he comprehends the importance of democratic reform, and the legitimacy that only such processes can bestow. But then, maybe none of us truly know him; maybe he's merely using the insurgency as an excuse to consolidate his power. I hope the latter is not the case. And if it truly isn't, he needs to be strong and brave enough to offer more than lip-service, or the insurgents will win by succeeding in turning the country of Nepal against itself, ultimately leading to the destabilization of the whole region.
Get Your Riot On
2.08.2006
Ore : 3:44 PM
Ore : 3:44 PM
I will be very disappointed if Townhall and LGF do not take this opportunity to incite their knuckledragging readers to send death threats my way.
(Stolen shamelessly from popuppupop)
(Stolen shamelessly from popuppupop)
...Then They Came For Crooked Heritage Interns...
Ore : 12:09 PM
Okay, I'm kidding. Somehow I doubt this would be happening were he not Muslim and not brown.
Bonus Quote 1: "Instead, the department said in court papers, Omar was captured by the U.S.-led multinational force in Iraq and remains in its custody, the department said in court papers. The multinational force is independent of the U.S. government, the department said."
Of course, as the coalition is rapidly becoming a party of one, that assertion continues to become less and less credible.
Bonus Quote 2: "In March, Matthew Waxman, the Pentagon's deputy assistant secretary of defense for detainee affairs, said a panel of three U.S. officers determined the Jordanian-American was an enemy combatant and not entitled to prisoner-of-war status under the Geneva Convention."
So we don't have him. But we do. And we can turn him over to Iraqis to be tortured if we want. But since he's not entitled to prisoner-of-war status, we could torture him ourselves. And all of this makes sense, I suppose, because Congress never did declare war. Even if the President continues to insist that we are, in fact, at war...
Gah... I'm getting a headache. Time for lunch.
Mmm... Orange-glazed chicken...
Bonus Quote 1: "Instead, the department said in court papers, Omar was captured by the U.S.-led multinational force in Iraq and remains in its custody, the department said in court papers. The multinational force is independent of the U.S. government, the department said."
Of course, as the coalition is rapidly becoming a party of one, that assertion continues to become less and less credible.
Bonus Quote 2: "In March, Matthew Waxman, the Pentagon's deputy assistant secretary of defense for detainee affairs, said a panel of three U.S. officers determined the Jordanian-American was an enemy combatant and not entitled to prisoner-of-war status under the Geneva Convention."
So we don't have him. But we do. And we can turn him over to Iraqis to be tortured if we want. But since he's not entitled to prisoner-of-war status, we could torture him ourselves. And all of this makes sense, I suppose, because Congress never did declare war. Even if the President continues to insist that we are, in fact, at war...
Gah... I'm getting a headache. Time for lunch.
Mmm... Orange-glazed chicken...
Republicans: Paragons of Good Taste
Ore : 8:18 AM
Lying, pig-stupid, evil dipshits, the whole lot of them. From professional idiot and freelance asshat Noel Sheppard of NewsBusters, a delicate-hothouse-flower-clutching-the-pearls act:
After National Review columnist Kate ["Sandpaper Snatch] O’Beirne injected some sanity [!!!] by stating the obvious, namely, that this was, indeed, a funeral, and that using this forum as a Democratic convention was in extraordinarily poor taste, Matthews actually asked [to his credit], "Was there something inaccurate in what they said, either he or Dr. Lowery?"
EXCUSE ME? What does that have to do with anything? This was a funeral, Chris. Did you miss that?
Yeah, Republicans are ones to talk about poor taste. You can almost hear the manufactured spluttering.
IIRC, they tried to pull the same shit after Wellstone's funeral. Assholes.
After National Review columnist Kate ["Sandpaper Snatch] O’Beirne injected some sanity [!!!] by stating the obvious, namely, that this was, indeed, a funeral, and that using this forum as a Democratic convention was in extraordinarily poor taste, Matthews actually asked [to his credit], "Was there something inaccurate in what they said, either he or Dr. Lowery?"
EXCUSE ME? What does that have to do with anything? This was a funeral, Chris. Did you miss that?
Yeah, Republicans are ones to talk about poor taste. You can almost hear the manufactured spluttering.
IIRC, they tried to pull the same shit after Wellstone's funeral. Assholes.
Better Red Than Dead
2.07.2006
Ore : 12:33 PM
Ore : 12:33 PM
Dedicated to Pop , just because I can.
Besides, he's clearly desperate...
Ray in earlier, unhappier, unhealthier times
Heya Laura, How About The Red Satin Suit?
Ore : 7:17 AM
"Gay and lesbian people have families, and their families should have legal protection, whether by marriage or civil union. A constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriages is a form of gay bashing and it would do nothing at all to protect traditional marriages." ~ Coretta Scott King
"Because marriage is a sacred institution and the foundation of society, it should not be re-defined by activist judges. For the good of families, children, and society, I support a constitutional amendment to protect the institution of marriage." ~ Guess Who
"The president [George W. Bush] and first lady Laura Bush planned to attend the funeral, along with former presidents [George H.W.] Bush, Clinton and Carter and 14 U.S. senators."
...But only one of these people intends to dance and piss on her grave while chuckling, "Heh, heh, heh. Sacred."
"Because marriage is a sacred institution and the foundation of society, it should not be re-defined by activist judges. For the good of families, children, and society, I support a constitutional amendment to protect the institution of marriage." ~ Guess Who
"The president [George W. Bush] and first lady Laura Bush planned to attend the funeral, along with former presidents [George H.W.] Bush, Clinton and Carter and 14 U.S. senators."
...But only one of these people intends to dance and piss on her grave while chuckling, "Heh, heh, heh. Sacred."
Our Leader, seen here expressing his deep reverence for the U.S. Constitution and the Bill of Rights
No, You Don't *ALWAYS* Win...
2.06.2006
Ore : 5:23 PM
Ore : 5:23 PM
One quick thing before blogger (ptooey) has its scheduled outage: ALERT RED: Colton Ford is mine and you cannot have him. Period.
My boyfriend and me...
Just Like Pinko Sez
Ore : 11:19 AM
Imagine a fabulous, mysterious lumberjack sheathed in a cloud of smoke on a quest FJTC. That is the wonder of teh. It is almost unbeholdable. I mean you can try.
Thanks PP. Just to reiterate:
Our vigilance must never waver, bitches!
PS: Thanks to all the dirty birdies who sent me teh n4sss-T pr0n!
Thanks PP. Just to reiterate:
Our vigilance must never waver, bitches!
PS: Thanks to all the dirty birdies who sent me teh n4sss-T pr0n!
Never Send A Yes-Man...
Ore : 7:37 AM
...To do a true-believer's job.
The headline reads, "Senators Have Tough Questions for Gonzales," which is nice and all, but I wonder if they'll also get around to asking him why he committed perjury during his confirmation hearing.
Anyway, if you read the article closely, you'll see that his treatment won't be as brutal as all that. This part is particularly choice -- very "Dick & George Visit The 9/11 Commission":
Specter, the Judiciary Committee chairman, said Monday that Gonzales would not be sworn in before giving testimony. Democrats on the committee disagreed with the chairman's decision.
See, a greater degree of stringency would crush Gonzales like a Fabergé egg under an elephant's foot. The problem with Alberto is that he's too fragile, and one of these days he will crack. Why? Because he's not a dyed-in-the-wool, think tank-bred, conservatarian kool-ade drinker, but rather a mere sycophant. His loyalties are to Bush, and not to any "cause" -- in other words, he's no Perle, he's no Wolfowitz. He's really more of a Mike Brown.
All we need is a Senate that knows how to squeeze. Vote Democrat in '06.
The headline reads, "Senators Have Tough Questions for Gonzales," which is nice and all, but I wonder if they'll also get around to asking him why he committed perjury during his confirmation hearing.
Anyway, if you read the article closely, you'll see that his treatment won't be as brutal as all that. This part is particularly choice -- very "Dick & George Visit The 9/11 Commission":
Specter, the Judiciary Committee chairman, said Monday that Gonzales would not be sworn in before giving testimony. Democrats on the committee disagreed with the chairman's decision.
See, a greater degree of stringency would crush Gonzales like a Fabergé egg under an elephant's foot. The problem with Alberto is that he's too fragile, and one of these days he will crack. Why? Because he's not a dyed-in-the-wool, think tank-bred, conservatarian kool-ade drinker, but rather a mere sycophant. His loyalties are to Bush, and not to any "cause" -- in other words, he's no Perle, he's no Wolfowitz. He's really more of a Mike Brown.
All we need is a Senate that knows how to squeeze. Vote Democrat in '06.
Soft like a Sing Sing honey
UPDATE: Glenn, who should really be in the blogroll, is where it's at.
Ooh Snap
2.05.2006
Ore : 7:05 PM
Ore : 7:05 PM
Shitty Team, But...
Ore : 5:00 PM
...Steeler's QB Roethlisberger can go ahead and JUST STICK IT THE HELL IN!!!
(Yeah I like 'em big & ugly & overrated -- so???)
Aretha, honey
Ore : 3:17 PM
How many overweight silverback lowland gorillas had to die for you to wear that?
Happy Super Bowl Day, bitches.
Happy Super Bowl Day, bitches.
Checkin' The Good Book
2.04.2006
Ore : 3:03 PM
Ore : 3:03 PM
For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evils. It is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pangs. (1 Tim. 6:9-10)
Mmm, yeah, that's a good one... Okay, let's see... [flips pages]
Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world. (James 1:26-27)
How lovely! I- Oh, I'm sorry, what was that Ralph?
...But analysts say the boyish-looking, 44-year-old darling of the conservative movement and former adviser to GOP presidential campaigns appears to be in political trouble because of his ties to Abramoff, who pleaded guilty in January to corruption charges and admitted swindling his Indian clients.
Wonder what the Bible sez about gloating? Ah, well...
Mmm, yeah, that's a good one... Okay, let's see... [flips pages]
Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world. (James 1:26-27)
How lovely! I- Oh, I'm sorry, what was that Ralph?
...But analysts say the boyish-looking, 44-year-old darling of the conservative movement and former adviser to GOP presidential campaigns appears to be in political trouble because of his ties to Abramoff, who pleaded guilty in January to corruption charges and admitted swindling his Indian clients.
Wonder what the Bible sez about gloating? Ah, well...
School Bus... Of DEATH!!!
Ore : 8:56 AM
Truncated Friday Sirius Blogging
2.03.2006
Ore : 1:37 PM
Ore : 1:37 PM
I haven't done this in a while, and I probably won't again for a goodly spell, but I'll give you half of the usual, as I have to head over to the thrift store (cute dead grandpa shirts -- hooray!!!):
Okkervil River, So Come Back, I Am Waiting: Soulful, which is not an adjective one normally applies to any midwestern white boy band. Fresh-sounding. Me likey. 8/10
Postal Service, Brand New Colony: So there's this person you're so in like with that you want to convince them to turn their back on the scene and move out to the suburbs with you. But they see you as being as dorky as your little fantasy. Ah, well. Purty song, anyhow. 6/10
Lovedrug, Blackout: Easy, convenient chorus, almost-empty-gas-tank bass that's been done a million times before. Michael Shepard's affected, mouthful-of-spittle, snot-nosed naif whine makes me want to fuck his bony little ass until he splits in half. 4/10 (those points awarded more for Shepard's doability than artistic merit).
Son Volt, Lookin' At The World Through A Windshield: Cute little alt-country/honky tonk throwdown. They don't make them like this often enough any more. 5/10
Bright Eyes, Lover I Don't Have To Love: Dipping into Afghan Whigs territory, but Oberst doesn't do rakish misanthropy as well. Much better at mopey. 6/10
OKAY, twist my arm, one more:
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Upon This Tidal Wave of Young Blood: Alec Ounsworth's voice is less grating than in the last single, but still working the strung-out, glazed eye, barely-hanging-on vibe. People say Byrne, but I don't see it. Incantatory, a-mite-too-serious pop, shades of Arcade Fire -- all-in-all, not bad. 7/10
Okkervil River, So Come Back, I Am Waiting: Soulful, which is not an adjective one normally applies to any midwestern white boy band. Fresh-sounding. Me likey. 8/10
Postal Service, Brand New Colony: So there's this person you're so in like with that you want to convince them to turn their back on the scene and move out to the suburbs with you. But they see you as being as dorky as your little fantasy. Ah, well. Purty song, anyhow. 6/10
Lovedrug, Blackout: Easy, convenient chorus, almost-empty-gas-tank bass that's been done a million times before. Michael Shepard's affected, mouthful-of-spittle, snot-nosed naif whine makes me want to fuck his bony little ass until he splits in half. 4/10 (those points awarded more for Shepard's doability than artistic merit).
Son Volt, Lookin' At The World Through A Windshield: Cute little alt-country/honky tonk throwdown. They don't make them like this often enough any more. 5/10
Bright Eyes, Lover I Don't Have To Love: Dipping into Afghan Whigs territory, but Oberst doesn't do rakish misanthropy as well. Much better at mopey. 6/10
OKAY, twist my arm, one more:
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Upon This Tidal Wave of Young Blood: Alec Ounsworth's voice is less grating than in the last single, but still working the strung-out, glazed eye, barely-hanging-on vibe. People say Byrne, but I don't see it. Incantatory, a-mite-too-serious pop, shades of Arcade Fire -- all-in-all, not bad. 7/10
New For Fall 2006: The Tinfoil Chapeau
Ore : 11:34 AM
"Scheduling conflict". How convenient.
If they think this is going to save their asses during the election, they can think again.
Bonus poll question:
Who would be most appropriate as Libby's Fawn Hall?
a) K-Lo
b) Manzanar Michelle
c) Mann Coulter
d) Phyllis "Withered Quim" Schlafly
e) Kate "Sandpaper Snatch" O'Beirne
f) Condoleezza "Stinkeye" Rice
g) Robert Bork in drag
If they think this is going to save their asses during the election, they can think again.
Conservatarian Republitard sez: "Yes, a traitor, but the good kind, like Ollie North."
Bonus poll question:
Who would be most appropriate as Libby's Fawn Hall?
a) K-Lo
b) Manzanar Michelle
c) Mann Coulter
d) Phyllis "Withered Quim" Schlafly
e) Kate "Sandpaper Snatch" O'Beirne
f) Condoleezza "Stinkeye" Rice
g) Robert Bork in drag
Not-So-Spiffy Skiffy
Ore : 9:38 AM
Stargate SG-1: So even though they've begin to wind down, creatively, the writers and producers began last season a daring new dramatic conceit with the introduction of the Ori. Now, the "big bad" (such a Buffy rip-off, even if Buffy was itself a mish-mash of rip-offs applied with panache) is a brutal, oppressive religious order that brooks no questioning or dissent, and requires absolute blind faith. Could be exciting stuff -- certainly more interesting than past villains. And thank goodness it seems to have flown over the heads of Dobson, Robertson, and their flying monkeys, as tantalizing as visions of knuckledragging god botherers burning piles of Stargate DVDs might be...
Unfortunately, the substructure of the show, severely corroded by age and use, is ill-suited to properly support this new development; time has not been kind to SG-1. What may have seemed innovative or quirky five years ago is stale now. Every episode is a rehash of better episodes that came before (not to mention better shows). Every script is drowning in in-jokes. And the restructured crew is about as exciting as porridge. Ben Browder in particular seems to be telegraphing in his performance as a muted version of his character from Farscape, and he just started. Last week's episode's subplot, in which his friend died, was already pointless, but was rendered even more so by Browder's inability so far to make us give two shits about the character of Colonel Mitchell. And Amanda Tapping looks positively bored. It's time to haul SG-1 to the pound and put it to sleep.
One more thing: Although I'm tickled pink by the arrival of the Ori, and I hate to get all MichaelMedvedJonahGoldberg, "this show's pickin' on me" on alls y'alls, do they have to be so polesmokin' gay? For reals now, what kind of religious order wears vestments designed by Bob Mackey, hmmm?
Stargate Atlantis: In other news, SG-1's goofy, slightly demented (and not in a good way) little sister continues to forge ahead on borrowed legitimacy, hobbled creativity-wise by its own conventions and the conventions of its predecessor. Now that they have (at least, it is to be hoped) gotten through their lower budget fan-service episodes (if they ever make me sit through an hour of sharing a cramped pod with McKay, I will never watch this show again), perhaps they can get back to the heart-pumping, action-filled, danger-packed prospect of fighting the Wraith (more potentially exciting bad guys ill-served by the very show that introduced them), but I'm not holding my breath.
The problem again is the cloth from which the show is cut: it is constrained by the long-established traditions of the Stargate universe, which closes a great number of dramatic doors. Moreover, the characters aren't so much drawn as punched crudely out of cardboard, and the actors play them as such, from Joe Flanagan's hammy, paint-by-numbers smart-ass, to Rachel Luttrell's hot-yet-awkward, "I do not understand, what are these 'contractions' of which you speak, hyoo-mahn?" alien chick.
The levels of quality in camp are as follows, in descending order: Low-brow, high-brow, and middle-brow. Atlantis is of the last, and as such, deserves a very short run on the screen, and then to be forgotten.
Tonight, it's all about tha Battlestar Galactica. And stay tuned here for my deconstruction of Jonah's foam-flecked rantings as he rings his bell and waves his picket sign at the Corner of Goebbels and Riefenstahl. Let's hope he doesn't disappoint.
Unfortunately, the substructure of the show, severely corroded by age and use, is ill-suited to properly support this new development; time has not been kind to SG-1. What may have seemed innovative or quirky five years ago is stale now. Every episode is a rehash of better episodes that came before (not to mention better shows). Every script is drowning in in-jokes. And the restructured crew is about as exciting as porridge. Ben Browder in particular seems to be telegraphing in his performance as a muted version of his character from Farscape, and he just started. Last week's episode's subplot, in which his friend died, was already pointless, but was rendered even more so by Browder's inability so far to make us give two shits about the character of Colonel Mitchell. And Amanda Tapping looks positively bored. It's time to haul SG-1 to the pound and put it to sleep.
One more thing: Although I'm tickled pink by the arrival of the Ori, and I hate to get all MichaelMedvedJonahGoldberg, "this show's pickin' on me" on alls y'alls, do they have to be so polesmokin' gay? For reals now, what kind of religious order wears vestments designed by Bob Mackey, hmmm?
Half-breed, she's no good they warned...
Stargate Atlantis: In other news, SG-1's goofy, slightly demented (and not in a good way) little sister continues to forge ahead on borrowed legitimacy, hobbled creativity-wise by its own conventions and the conventions of its predecessor. Now that they have (at least, it is to be hoped) gotten through their lower budget fan-service episodes (if they ever make me sit through an hour of sharing a cramped pod with McKay, I will never watch this show again), perhaps they can get back to the heart-pumping, action-filled, danger-packed prospect of fighting the Wraith (more potentially exciting bad guys ill-served by the very show that introduced them), but I'm not holding my breath.
The problem again is the cloth from which the show is cut: it is constrained by the long-established traditions of the Stargate universe, which closes a great number of dramatic doors. Moreover, the characters aren't so much drawn as punched crudely out of cardboard, and the actors play them as such, from Joe Flanagan's hammy, paint-by-numbers smart-ass, to Rachel Luttrell's hot-yet-awkward, "I do not understand, what are these 'contractions' of which you speak, hyoo-mahn?" alien chick.
The levels of quality in camp are as follows, in descending order: Low-brow, high-brow, and middle-brow. Atlantis is of the last, and as such, deserves a very short run on the screen, and then to be forgotten.
Tonight, it's all about tha Battlestar Galactica. And stay tuned here for my deconstruction of Jonah's foam-flecked rantings as he rings his bell and waves his picket sign at the Corner of Goebbels and Riefenstahl. Let's hope he doesn't disappoint.
ABORT! ABORT! ABORT!!!
2.02.2006
Ore : 8:23 PM
Ore : 8:23 PM
Bushistas In An AP Nutshell
Ore : 12:23 PM
There's nothing save emphasis that I can add that would make funnier the final three paragraphs of this story, in which Goss claims that disclosing the illegal wiretapping program damages Bush's political national security:
"I've called in the FBI, the Department of Justice. It is my aim and it is my hope that we will witness a grand jury investigation with reporters present, being asked to reveal who is leaking this information," he said.
Rockefeller suggested that the "leaks" Goss talked about most likely "came from the executive branch" of the government.
That brought a terse response from FBI Director Robert Mueller, who said, "It's not fair to point a finger as to the responsibility of the leak."
"I've called in the FBI, the Department of Justice. It is my aim and it is my hope that we will witness a grand jury investigation with reporters present, being asked to reveal who is leaking this information," he said.
Rockefeller suggested that the "leaks" Goss talked about most likely "came from the executive branch" of the government.
That brought a terse response from FBI Director Robert Mueller, who said, "It's not fair to point a finger as to the responsibility of the leak."
Manzanar Michelle's Latest Tempest In A Piss Pot
Ore : 7:31 AM
Pathetic.
Perhaps our enemies abroad wouldn't be such a menace, and perhaps we wouldn't have to be scared of every Arab shadow, looking for terrorists under every bed and watching our collective testicles fall off every time someone mentions 9/11, if our Joint Chiefs of Staff were not functionally illiterate.
If General Pace had more than two brain cells to rub together, he'd see that the cartoon is clearly mocking Rumsfeld's world-famous callousness, indifference and nastiness -- not those who, on top of their war wounds, are the victims of his venality.
But then, whoever needed accuracy in pursuit of a Regnery check?
Word of advice, Michelle: if you want to misrepresent someone's work, it helps not to showcase said work so that everyone can see what a nong you are. You should require people to click through five times, at least.
We put some humble pie down her feeding tube, but she couldn't keep it down...
Perhaps our enemies abroad wouldn't be such a menace, and perhaps we wouldn't have to be scared of every Arab shadow, looking for terrorists under every bed and watching our collective testicles fall off every time someone mentions 9/11, if our Joint Chiefs of Staff were not functionally illiterate.
If General Pace had more than two brain cells to rub together, he'd see that the cartoon is clearly mocking Rumsfeld's world-famous callousness, indifference and nastiness -- not those who, on top of their war wounds, are the victims of his venality.
But then, whoever needed accuracy in pursuit of a Regnery check?
Word of advice, Michelle: if you want to misrepresent someone's work, it helps not to showcase said work so that everyone can see what a nong you are. You should require people to click through five times, at least.
We put some humble pie down her feeding tube, but she couldn't keep it down... Say Hello
2.01.2006
Ore : 9:24 PM
Ore : 9:24 PM
He's in earnest, he's wonky, and he's dorkier than Milhouse.
And he's going to be our next governor. Get used to it, bipeds.
And he's going to be our next governor. Get used to it, bipeds.
I'm getting my Phil!
Hey, That's Not MaryAnn...
Ore : 2:49 PM
"The first cut is the deepest," sez our ersatz Sheryl Crow, "that's why I'm keepin' my bitty bishop."
(Today's tragic tranny is for Dex, who must be jonesin' right about now...)
I Would SOTU 4 U!!!
Ore : 7:55 AM
Well, not really. I mean, it's the same as it always was: he mentions a lot of things we're going to do that we really won't, and a lot of things we aren't doing that we in fact are.
My nitpicks:
"...with a healthy, growing economy, with more Americans going back to work..."
Wait, is he talking about hamburger-manufacturing careers? Or have Americans finally emigrated en masse to India and China?
"...in the last year alone, the United States has added 2.3 million new jobs."
And this is spectacular why, exactly?
"America's prosperity requires restraining the spending appetite of the federal government."
That's just too rich for words.
"Small business is the path of advancement, especially for women and minorities, so we must free small businesses from needless regulation and protect honest job-creators from junk lawsuits."
If by "small business" you mean multi-billion-dollar corporation, and by "advancement" you mean enrichment, and by "women and minorities" you mean those men and women (mostly white) who are already so fucking rich they don't know what to do with the (mostly) ill-gotten lucre they already possess, and by "junk lawsuits" you mean being sued by the parents of the girl whose intestines were vacuumed out of her anus by your product.
I'm not even going to start on the "frivolous asbestos claims" part. I'm already feeling a mite ill.
"My Clear Skies legislation will cut power plant pollution and improve the health of our citizens."
Yes, because it's done so well so far.
"I urge Congress to pass legislation that makes America more secure and less dependent on foreign energy."
So we can stop invading oil-producing nations.
Ha. Gotcha, suckas.
"...you and I will work together to give this nation a tax code that is pro-growth, easy to understand, and fair to all."
That is to say, places the lion's share of the tax burden on those who can least afford it, and gives breaks to the people who really don't need them.
"Social Security was a great moral success of the 20th century, and we must honor its great purposes in this new century. (Applause.) The system, however, on its current path, is headed toward bankruptcy."
Gee, I wonder why? Don't suppose it could have anything to do with the fact that your administration has nearly bankrupted the treasury? Nah...
[note: What kind of a self-aggrandizing freak do you have to be to include in parentheses where the crowd applauded you? Unless that's the cue for those of us reading online to spontaneously jump from our workstations and clap maniacally, and perhaps flash a purple finger...]
"Because marriage is a sacred institution and the foundation of society, it should not be re-defined by activist judges."
"So I'm going to appoint activist judges who rule that marriage is what James Dobson says, and who will re-define what the Bill of Rights and the Constitution stand for."
And leave it to a Republican to add an amendment to the Constitution that restricts rather than enumerates rights.
"The Constitution also gives the Senate a responsibility: Every judicial nominee deserves an up or down vote."
Yeah, what's this "advise and consent" bullshit, anyhow?
"We will pass along to our children all the freedoms we enjoy -- and chief among them is freedom from fear."
"Except when a Republican-controlled government deems it necessary and expedient for you to be a-feared a' sumthin'. In those cases buy duct tape, and rat on your neighbor with the 'Kerry/Edwards '04' banner on his lawn."
"That country [Iraq] is a vital front in the war on terror, which is why the terrorists have chosen to make a stand there."
Silly me. I thought they did so because we made it convenient for them when we invaded and destroyed that country.
"Recently an Iraqi interpreter said to a reporter, 'Tell America not to abandon us.'"
"...So I responded by telling him that I've decided not to ask Congress for any more reconstruction funds. Heh, heh, heh."
"As Franklin Roosevelt once reminded Americans..."
Okay, I got nothin' else. Good taste prevents me from repeating any more.
Which is fine. There's plenty more to nitpick, Lord knows. But I've got to go to the bank and get the dog to the groomers.
Toodles.
My nitpicks:
"...with a healthy, growing economy, with more Americans going back to work..."
Wait, is he talking about hamburger-manufacturing careers? Or have Americans finally emigrated en masse to India and China?
"...in the last year alone, the United States has added 2.3 million new jobs."
And this is spectacular why, exactly?
"America's prosperity requires restraining the spending appetite of the federal government."
That's just too rich for words.
"Small business is the path of advancement, especially for women and minorities, so we must free small businesses from needless regulation and protect honest job-creators from junk lawsuits."
If by "small business" you mean multi-billion-dollar corporation, and by "advancement" you mean enrichment, and by "women and minorities" you mean those men and women (mostly white) who are already so fucking rich they don't know what to do with the (mostly) ill-gotten lucre they already possess, and by "junk lawsuits" you mean being sued by the parents of the girl whose intestines were vacuumed out of her anus by your product.
I'm not even going to start on the "frivolous asbestos claims" part. I'm already feeling a mite ill.
"My Clear Skies legislation will cut power plant pollution and improve the health of our citizens."
Yes, because it's done so well so far.
"I urge Congress to pass legislation that makes America more secure and less dependent on foreign energy."
So we can stop invading oil-producing nations.
Ha. Gotcha, suckas.
"...you and I will work together to give this nation a tax code that is pro-growth, easy to understand, and fair to all."
That is to say, places the lion's share of the tax burden on those who can least afford it, and gives breaks to the people who really don't need them.
"Social Security was a great moral success of the 20th century, and we must honor its great purposes in this new century. (Applause.) The system, however, on its current path, is headed toward bankruptcy."
Gee, I wonder why? Don't suppose it could have anything to do with the fact that your administration has nearly bankrupted the treasury? Nah...
[note: What kind of a self-aggrandizing freak do you have to be to include in parentheses where the crowd applauded you? Unless that's the cue for those of us reading online to spontaneously jump from our workstations and clap maniacally, and perhaps flash a purple finger...]
"Because marriage is a sacred institution and the foundation of society, it should not be re-defined by activist judges."
"So I'm going to appoint activist judges who rule that marriage is what James Dobson says, and who will re-define what the Bill of Rights and the Constitution stand for."
And leave it to a Republican to add an amendment to the Constitution that restricts rather than enumerates rights.
"The Constitution also gives the Senate a responsibility: Every judicial nominee deserves an up or down vote."
Yeah, what's this "advise and consent" bullshit, anyhow?
"We will pass along to our children all the freedoms we enjoy -- and chief among them is freedom from fear."
"Except when a Republican-controlled government deems it necessary and expedient for you to be a-feared a' sumthin'. In those cases buy duct tape, and rat on your neighbor with the 'Kerry/Edwards '04' banner on his lawn."
"That country [Iraq] is a vital front in the war on terror, which is why the terrorists have chosen to make a stand there."
Silly me. I thought they did so because we made it convenient for them when we invaded and destroyed that country.
"Recently an Iraqi interpreter said to a reporter, 'Tell America not to abandon us.'"
"...So I responded by telling him that I've decided not to ask Congress for any more reconstruction funds. Heh, heh, heh."
"As Franklin Roosevelt once reminded Americans..."
Okay, I got nothin' else. Good taste prevents me from repeating any more.
Which is fine. There's plenty more to nitpick, Lord knows. But I've got to go to the bank and get the dog to the groomers.
Toodles.
Freedom Camp | Blogger Templates by layoutstudios.com and Gecko & Fly.
No part of the content or the blog may be reproduced without prior written permission.
Learn how to Make Money Online at GeckoandFly
