Wednesday, October 31, 2007

The postman never thinks twice - Special Halloween Edition

So today, the postman walked into my office, handed me my mail and said "Happy Halloween!"

I pointed at him and said "Mailman...right?"

Fucker did not laugh.

C'mon. That's funny.

Karen Hughes resigns in order to spend more time with her shock over how it could have all gone so horribly, horribly wrong.

First she was in.

Then she was out.

Then she was back in.

And now she's out again, although I'm not sure if it counts, because she did miss BushCo's Labor Day 2007 olly-olly-oxen-free deadline.

You remember, the one that was cited as definitely, positively, without-a-doubt the for-sure reason why Karl Rove resigned so suddenly?

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

The United States of Rainbows and Unicorns

Our National Seal

Anyone out there who still believes in a politician who is without strategic lapses of morality, even his or her own morality, please come and stand next to me.

So that I can kick you in the ass.

Look, baby, politicians compromise. That’s what they do. They can not, and do not, get where they are without compromising. A lot. More than the most jaded among us would like, in fact.

Ad infinitum, in perpetuity throughout the universe, forever and ever, amen.

So please, please, PLEASE stop telling me that your guy is different from all those other guys. And specifically, please stop telling me that Barack Obama is not like other politicians. Because he is exactly like other politicians. He wants to win. There is no point if you don’t win. The trick is, to compromise enough to win, but not so much you lose. That’s it. That’s the whole idea. Bill Clinton was really good at walking that line. John Kerry, not so much.

Obama, who has been trailing Hillary Clinton not just generally but also among African-Americans, a group whose ranks he may or may not be even admitted as a member, has just decided that it was time to take a big hit for what he hopes is a big gain.

Specifically, he has refused to disassociate himself from gospel singer Donnie McClurkin, one of those “gay can be cured through the lord” types, even though his campaign is getting some pretty tough publicity because of it.

Obama is making a big-time play for devout blacks with his South Carolina “gospel tour,” and support for gay rights among that group is almost nil. Support for gay marriage rights among blacks generally is only at about half what it is among white Democrats: 22% vs. 43%.

His campaign is hoping to spin Obama’s whole “better voting through the Lord” tour as yet another example of their candidate’s ability to bring people of opposite views together. That’s what they’re spinning to the left wing of the party, who are understandably appalled by McClurkin’s views, which range from “homosexuality is a curse,” to “homosexuals are trying to kill our children.” No spin necessary for the homophobic wing of the Democratic party, who are already getting Obama's message loud and clear.

So, well, good luck with that strategy, Senator. Meanwhile, the next time one of your followers tells me I should vote for you for any reason other than your stand on the issues, I’m going to tell them to kiss my blue state hiney.

Because I am tired of you fucking idealistic Democrats. Because once you find out your candidate is human, you become the most tiresome, whining, petulant, bitter people on the face of the earth. You swear you will never vote again, ever! You issue stern warnings to your friends that even though you do not agree on any issue, you will vote Republican, because at least they’re not stupid Democrats! You are the people I see walking around with a martyred expression and a “Ron Paul for President” button. You are the people standing at those tables outside the grocery store, trying to convince me that Lyndon LaRouche is not a card-carrying loon.

And so people, I hope that this little incident from the Obama campaign drives home my point, which is that there is no magic candidate. There is NO ONE running in this race who hasn’t done some pretty stinky things because he or she thought it would help them politically. There are no fairy tale contenders. No Prince Charmings, no wizards, no vaguely Christ-like talking lions – nothing.

Except for Kucinich, who I’m pretty sure is some kind of elf.

Friday, October 26, 2007

Ministers United for Tolerance

Wow. 80 Christian ministers in Atlanta signed a manifesto that urges tolerance and cooperation, and an end to the suppression of the rights of others. An excerpt:

HATRED and scorn for those…who hold a position different from our own, can never be justified. It is only as we approach our problems in a spirit of mutual respect of charity, and of good will that we can hope to understand one another, and to find the way to a cooperative solution of our problems. God is no respector of persons. Every human personality is precious in His sight. No policy which seeks to keep any man from developing fully every capacity of body, mind and of spirit can be justified in light of Scripture. This is the message of the Hebrew prophets as it is of Christ and His disciples. We shall solve our difficulties when we learn to walk in obedience to the Golden Rule: "Therefore, all things, whatsoever you would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them for this is the law and the prophets.


The only problem is, it was written 50 years ago.

It was written and signed by a group of white ministers as a response to the violence surrounding the impending integration of schools throughout the south.

So here’s what I’m thinking: If only Christian ministers of all persuasions would urge the same kind of tolerance toward the rights of gay people. Think what could be accomplished.

Perhaps we wouldn’t use the Bible as an excuse to oppress homosexuals anymore. Perhaps we would begin to understand that the realization of civil rights for all people makes us all happier and more peaceful. Perhaps we wouldn’t have to pander to the homo haters in order to appear more acceptable to the so-called “normal” people.

And yes, I’m looking at you, Obama. You’ve said that the black community must confront its homophobia. This seems to me more along the line of kissing homophobia’s ass.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Glen Beck is like, totally a hater. So not cool.

I’m sure most of you have heard by now about conservative asshat Glenn Beck’s comment that the homes of America-haters were burning in the California wildfires:

When I say on the air, and I've said it a lot lately, that we need to come together and we need to get back into the center, we're being pushed on to the edges -- I want you to understand, that is not on policies. I don't mean that we come in the center on policies. We come to the center on principles. We come back to the center of the melting pot, that we're all one America, that just because I disagree with you doesn't mean you hate America, and I love America. We all love America. We just disagree on how we should function, what we should do, big government, small government. It doesn't mean you hate America. I think there is a handful of people who hate America. Unfortunately for them, a lot of them are losing their homes in a forest fire today.

Yes, how unfortunate for them, indeed.

Leaving aside the fact that even at the time of his remarks on Monday, a good deal of those affected by the fires were the citizens of Orange and San Diego counties, which are overwhelmingly Republican. Let’s just assume that he was talking about the people in Malibu.

The America-haters in Malibu.

He has now responded angrily on his show, railing of course against liberal bloggers and such, who he figures intimated that he wanted some people’s houses to burn down. He says we all need to get a sense of humor, because he was joking, and he would never want anyone’s house to burn down.

Not surprisingly, Beck has missed the point entirely.

Beck’s producer has countered that his remarks were not “uncivil,” because “unfortunately’ still means ‘unfortunately.”

Of course one could quibble this point, because Beck did not simply say “unfortunately,” he said “unfortunately for them.”

But I’ll concede that point as not really worth arguing, because Beck’s hostility to the people of Malibu is made apparent by the statement he did not bother to refute or explain, which is, that they hate America.

Beck says at first that we all love America, but then immediately contradicts himself by saying that there are indeed a “handful” of people that do hate America. And apparently they live in Malibu, California.

Rick Sanchez of CNN, on location to cover the wildfires in SoCal, made some equally interesting remarks, as HuffPost’s Mona Gable points out:

Sanchez appeared to be dumbfounded by the idea that Californians, whom he breathlessly described as most familiar to Americans as "laidback, Chardonnay-drinking, quiche-eating" hedonists, were helping each other through perhaps the state's worst natural disaster.

First of, Rick, Californians would not be caught dead eating quiche. Hello, ever hear of carbs? Secondly, anyone who would describe Californians as laidback has never driven on the 405.

Thirdly, fuck you. You think that because we say “like” a whole lot that we don’t care about our neighbors? You think because we regularly declare the weather to be “awesome,” that we don’t recognize a person in need?

Fuck you again. Fuck you, you fucking asshole. Fuck you.

Now, I’m not a big fan, collectively, of the residents of Malibu. They can be some selfish fucks. They have tried many times, for instance, to block the hoi-polloi from accessing the public beaches and hiking trails that they would prefer to make private. Also, their restaurants are overpriced. The sales help in their stores are frequently snotty. Their hyper-aggressive driving habits have made their little stretch of Highway 1 one of the most dangerous automotive clusterfucks in the state of California.

And that’s saying something.

But you know what they’re not? They are not, generally, politically apathetic. They care about 2 things, basically: money, and their causes. And those that support liberal or Democratic politicians do so because they believe in them, and not – and here’s the important part – because it benefits them monetarily.

I mean, sure, they’re obscenely rich, and sure, they spend way too much on handbags and golf clubs, but they also, overwhelmingly, vote for people who favor the government taking more money away from them, and giving it to people who don’t have as much as they do.

Therefore, if you wanted to call them selfish, the worst aspersion you could cast upon their politics is that they believe that a rising tide lifts all boats.

That’s a bit different than the obscenely rich people who vote Republican, isn’t it?

So how is it, exactly, that they are hedonists? How is it, exactly, that they hate America? By trying to do the things they believe will make it better, against their own economic interest?

Lord knows it pains me to defend the residents of Malibu, with their complicated coffee drinks and their pretentious dogs and their painfully full lips, but in a comparison between Glenn Beck and them as to who loves America the most, Beck is not fit to kiss their excruciatingly well-pedicured feet.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

With fires raging all around, let's take a moment to consider the upside of CA

In the glorious San Fernando Valley, the sky above my head is still blue, but every horizon now has that brown-red apocalyptic smoky haze of color, and today the ashes on my car weren't just a light dusting, but were visible chunks falling out of the sky.

But still, I know my readers are dying to know how my weekend with Spooney in Pismo Beach went.

Well, here's the view from our hotel room. Not too shabby, eh?

Pismo Beach is one of those completely charming California seaside towns that hasn't yet been ruined by overdevelopment.

It's so small that in spite of the Clam Festival being the biggest event of their year, the band headlining the parade is still from the local high school.

Spooney and I had a blast walking the beach, sampling the local brews, and just kicking around. We spent some time Saturday night at the local watering hole, where the resident cover band featured not one, but two keytars. Awesome.

I suspended my vegetarianism long enough to join Spooney in the chowder cook-off, which was several different kinds of yummy. For four bucks, you get to taste chowder from 8 different restaurants (that is, every restaurant in town) and vote on your favorite.

As you might be able to tell from the size of the butts standing in line, it's only creamy New England-style chowdah being served here, thank you very much. I asked a couple of the chefs, real loud-like, "What's a gal got to do to get some Manhattan-style chowder up in this mug?" Stony silence was the reply. They take their chowder pretty seriously in Pismo Beach.

At this point, I have to share with you a short video I took of the world's lamest pelican.

See? Lame. That's Spooney off camera throwing squid right at his mouth, which he misses. He missed it like 15 times in a row.

During the festival, they had a clam dig for the kids. It's not a real clam dig, because Pismo clams are practically extinct. The kids dig up clam shells with prizes written on them.

They had a lot of good prizes, including a bike, and some boogie boards. Once those were gone, though, the kids weren't getting nearly as excited about what they had won.

One of the moms that Spooney and I were standing next to on the pier said, near the end of the event, that her friend's kid won a coupon for $1 off a large Domino's pizza.

Spooney started laughing. "What kind of prize is that?"

I said "What, did they just bust open one of those coupon books you get in the mail? Here, kid, it's 20% off your next dry cleaning!"

"2 for 1 Weight Watcher memberships!"

The moms started laughing at us, so we kept up our little routine.

"One free month of monitoring from Brinks Home Alarm!"

"1/2 off your next drapery cleaning!"

"Free medium coffee with purchase of one dozen donuts from Winchell's!"

"15% off your next oil change or tire rotation at Jiffy Lube!"

We laughed so hard it knocked what residual LA tension I was still carrying around right the fuck out of me. Then we drove home and watched the last ALCS game. Red Sox won. Awful racist logo team lost. Life is good.

Spoiler Alert!

Dude, get over yourself. It's a Subaru.

Monday, October 22, 2007


It is tough sometimes, to stop complaining about the disparity between how Republicans and Democrats are treated by the media.

And I’m not talking about how much press went into the blowjob scandal as opposed to the one where the president lied so he would have a better excuse to send service men and women to their deaths. Let’s look at a more direct comparison.

For instance, W and Bill Clinton both evaded the Vietnam draft. W is beloved by most members of the military, while it was implied many times during Clinton’s tenure that he should excuse himself from ceremonies honoring veterans, because he was not “qualified” (read: “good enough”).

And while Hillary has not yet committed vehicular homicide, (Although can you imagine the massive shooting of media spooge if she did? It would be like every Christmas and and Easter and Fourth of July since the beginning of time all wrapped up in one over at FoxNews.) one can imagine that her treatment by the press would be somewhat different than their treatment of our current first lady, who killed her high school sweetheart while behind the wheel. Although the story is somewhat sad on the surface, its tragic glossy veneer starts to look a little thin when one learns that she was, according to some reports, drinking when it happened, and that her politically-connected family did manage to get her record expunged.

And anyway, what better qualification is there to be First Lady than a drinking problem?

My point is not that we should condemn Laura Bush, but that we perhaps should give others the same benefit of the doubt. After all, Hillary got raked over the coals just for knowing a dead guy.

And so on to Hillary’s latest press problem, which is, as Media Matters has pointed out, that Sarah Baxter at the London Sunday Times, and professional idiot Caitlin Flanagan at The Atlantic have resurrected an old non-story from 2001 and are using it to – surprise, surprise – insinuate that Hillary is a cold-hearted bitch.

Baxter’s article is titled “Ouch! Hillary Clinton’s Softer Image is Clawed Over Dumped Cat.” The story is about how the Clintons allowed Bill’s personal secretary Betty Currie to adopt their cat, Socks, when they moved out of the White House. And the “proof” that Hillary’s image has been damaged? Why, Flanagan’s article, of course.

Don’t you love it when members of the press use an article written by another member of the press as proof that they have tapped into the American zeitgeist, as opposed to performing an act of mutual masturbation?

Baxter says that Socks “allowed ‘chilly’ Hillary Clinton to show a caring, maternal side,” and that therefore Hillary used Socks, and when she was done using Socks, she dumped him on the…you know…hired help. Flanagan says: “In the annals of human evil, off-loading a pet is nowhere near the top of the list. But neither is it dead last, and it is especially galling when said pet had been deployed for years as an all-purpose character reference.”

You know what I say? I say that I don’t remember a single photo op of Hillary knitting little booties for Socks. In fact, I don’t remember any photos of them together at all. If Socks was being employed to soften Hillary’s image, his job performance was about what you’d expect from a cat: indifferent.

In reality, the Clintons got rid of Socks because he tortured their dog, Buddy. And Buddy was Bill’s dog. So why isn’t the re-gifting of Socks being spun as a story of how subservient Hillary is to her man? Why isn’t it being spun as a story of how the Clintons raised a daughter so selfish that she put her preference for college housing above her love for her childhood pet?

Because that wouldn’t fit the media’s favorite wanking-off point: that Hillary is, you know, a bitch.

And I have to admit that it irks me when I see women participate in this kind of stereotype mongering. I mean, why the tired-ass “bitch” angle, ladies? If you wanted to slam Hillary on the issues, there’s more than enough fodder there. But…that might require an actual knowledge, or understanding of the issues, and I’m guessing that’s not so much what we expect from your Sarah Baxters and your Caitlin Flanagans. We expect bitchiness, right gals? Because you’re women. Women writers. Women who have careers outside the home as writers. And we all know what THAT means.

They’re bitches. Ambitious, castrating bitches.

So listen up, catty bitches! If you’re looking for a “animal cruelty” angle involving a presidential candidate, check out this story about how Mr. Latter-Day Saint tied his dog carrier with his dog inside it to the top of his car, and then drove down the freeway while his terrified dog let loose his bowels all over the roof. This story is wide open gals, I’m telling you.

Because for some reason, the press is just not leaping on this one.

I can’t imagine why.

Friday, October 19, 2007

World's Largest Clam

Hey y’all, this weekend, Spooney and I are headed to the Pismo Beach Clam Festival.

And no, that is not a euphemism.

Spooney, a native of Massachusetts, is a big fan of the clam, so he’s really been looking forward to the annual chowder cook-off.

And I, being a native of Smartasserville, am looking forward to a weekend of sniggering at Spooney’s pronunciation of “chowder,” which falls somewhere between Mayor Quimby and the brothers Affleck.

See you next week!

The house is on fire

So by all means let's not take action, but instead argue about whether the drapes caught the couch on fire, or vice versa.

Thursday, October 18, 2007


Okay so the first S-CHIP bill, you know, the one W vetoed?

It was marked as a “key vote” piece of legislation by the geniuses over at the National Right to Life Committee. That means that, in this case, a vote for the bill would give a legislator a huge black mark with the organization.

Why? Because a previous version of the bill contained provisions that supposedly “rationed care and government-sponsored euthanasia.”

What the fuck does that mean, you ask? Look, let’s just not even go into that part of the issue, because, well…because it’s late and they’re just fucking nutjobs, okay?

Also, I guess they were upset that some prenatal care was phrased as care for “pregnant women,” instead of, yes, “fetuses.”

According to so-called “pro-life” people, every sentence looks better with a “fetus” in it. See? I just did it. Very nice, isn’t it? In fact, I don’t know why they don’t just make “fetus” a new slang word for good, you know, like “dope,” or “fresh,” or “da bomb.”

On second thought, they might have to recruit some black members into their organization in order to pull that off. Or at least K-Fed.

“Yo, ‘sup? This be K-Fed in da house. Check it, my new kicks are fetus!”

That might be a tough sell, seeing as how serial baby daddy K-Fed is now pretty much a poster child for choice.

Annnnnnnnnnyhoo, so, the S-CHIP was rewritten, and the offending provisions were removed, and several anti-choice House Dems, who by the way DO exist, are asking why the NRLC won’t now support a bill that EXPANDS HEALTH INSURANCE FOR CHILDREN?

Could it be, perhaps, because their boyfriend George W opposes the bill, because it takes food out of the mouths of hungry defense contractors in Iraq?

Could it be that they really, secretly, don’t care very much at all about the welfare of children? Or for that matter, anyone at all who can’t help advance them in their quest to become the premiere organization for hypocritical, women-repressing, no-awesome-sex-having, ugly-ass moron asshats everywhere?

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Also lately I've been thinking that if everyone has a blog now why do I still get all those damn newsletters every Christmas?

Howdy, y'all. Sorry I've been so busy.

A while ago some of you mentioned that you might enjoy seeing an updated photo of Hoosier Pond.

I now oblige:

My sister brought me a couple of large flat rocks that I incorporated into my waterfall. I can't stop messing with that damn waterfall. Someday, the placement of each stone will be perfect, but until then there are always minute adjustments to be made. Such is my sickness.

In the photo you can see my goldfish & minnows are hanging out in their feeding spot. Any time I come near the pond, they go to that spot and wait for me to bestow upon them the fish flakes. It's not that they're particularly fond of me. They also do it for Spooney. They also do it for The Banana, who luckily has not yet realized that fish are a food item as far as cats as concerned.

Also, I thought you might enjoy this picture of Spooney getting so loaded at the LA County Fair Beer Garden that he mistakes some lettuce for a full, leafy-green mustache.

And lastly, here's a picture of me with a llama.

See? You can tell I am thinking about a post wherein I contrast the relative worths of George Tenet and that medal that he got for missing the intelligence on 9/11 and pulling the intelligence out of his ass on Iraq and the media shit storm that never happened over that, versus the huge fucking fuss everyone is making over Al Gore's entirely well-deserved Nobel Prize.

Can't you?

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Is that a diminutive midwestern congressman in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?

Dennis Kucinich proves that he's an exceptionally good sport:

Friday, October 12, 2007

Thursday, October 11, 2007

The postman never thinks twice

I have gotten into the habit of chatting briefly with the postman who drops off the mail at my business. He is a tightly-wound fellow, full of facial tics, and his eyes dart about nervously as well, but he is also quite well-informed on the neighborhood gossip, i.e., who’s moving, which landlord is having trouble leasing, and what businesses will be going into the various nearby construction sites.

He is also a conservative-type Republican. My realization of this was gradual. First of all, I noticed that he is derisive of, and somewhat frightened by, the various older black men who live homeless on the streets around here, even though these guys are in my experience not bad guys or criminals, outside of a little trespassing. In fact, if I were mugged or attacked on the street near my office, I know who I would run to for help, and it wouldn’t be the postman. It would be that sweet but batshit crazy guy who lives with his dog near the water spigot on the building across the street. Sure, it’s a little alarming to see him shadow-boxing his own reflection several times a day, because he’s not shadow-boxing in a “got to stay in shape for my life on the street” kind of way, he’s shadow-boxing in a “someday I’ll beat that no-good son-of-a-bitch fucking bastard reflection of mine” kind of way.

Plus, my postman made questionable remarks about his substitute postman. I had said to him one day that his substitute does not come inside to ask if there’s any outgoing mail, like he does. He asked me what the guy looked like, and I told him. “Oh,” he said, “he’s Filipino.” “Okay,” I said. “You know there’s a lot of Filipinos that work for the post office around here,” he said. I replied “Yeah, I’ve heard that Filipino immigrants have a tradition of civil service in Los Angeles.” I only know this because soon after I moved to LA, there was a white supremacist who shot a Filipino-American postman, and there was some discussion at the time as to whether it was truly a hate crime, because he had just come from gunning down several Jewish children at a religious school, and so it was unclear as to whether the perp even knew that the man was of Filipino ancestry, whether it would’ve mattered to him, whether his medium brown skin color was reason enough to shoot him, or whether his ire was more likely to have been motivated by a dented package or a surly window clerk from his past. In any event, it had become evident during the course of the discussion that went on in various forums throughout LA that you can’t swing a roll of bubble wrap in this town without hitting a Filipino postal worker. One of the many lovable quirks of LA, as far as I was concerned.

The postman blinked at me. “Well,” he said, “where I work, there’s only a couple of them. But you know that station over on Main? They’re almost all Filipino over there.”

I didn’t like where this was going. Unable to will my phone to ring, I got up and excused myself, and he left.

Recently, the postman has begun to make remarks on the presidential race. He actually said “Obama, Osama, or Chelsea’s Mama” to me at one point, and I, unwilling to feign indifference any more, countered, “Well, we could do worse. In fact, we have.” That utterance seemed to keep his desire for chat supressed for a couple of weeks, as he was mostly silent on the subject of the campaigns for a while.

Today, though, he came in bursting with news. “You know who my union is supporting for president?”

“Edwards?” I said, because I know Edwards has a lot of union support.

“No, Hillary!” he blurted, clearly agitated.

“Is that bad news?”

“Yeah, I thought it might be Giuliani, or who did you say? Edwards? Maybe him.”

“You know Edwards is a Democrat, right?”

“Oh, yeah, okay.”

“He ran with Kerry in 2004.”

“Oh, right.”

“Somehow, I don’t think your union would endorse a Republican.”

I chuckled a little, waiting for him to acknowledge the obviousness of it. He didn’t.

“Because,” I said, “if it were up to the Republicans, you wouldn’t have a union.”

“Huh,” he mumbled, and handed me my mail. He said nothing else but managed a weak smile and a few eye spasms and a small head jerk sideways on his way out the door.

I wonder how long he’ll chew on that.

I wonder if it will occur to him that what can be done to the TSA employees could be done to him. He could be outsourced, just like them.

I wonder if that will occur to him sometime between now and next Election Day?

Nah. Things like that never occur to guys like him. According to guys like him, he deserves his union protections, and his decent pay and his holidays and his pension, but no one else ever does. Let those other poor fuckers fend for themselves, is no doubt the basis for whatever thoughts do enter his head regarding the struggles of the working poor.

Unlike many Republicans, he probably can’t deny that the poor exist, because he encounters them all day long. But like many Republicans, I'm sure he thinks their problems are all their own fault.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

A talk given to my imaginary child after watching BushCo’s new abstinence campaign commercial

To my son and/or daughter: do not listen to the Bush administration. They’re liars and they’re only pretending to care about you. Yeah, like that kid who pretended to be your friend so that you would let him cheat off you in Geometry? Remember that? That didn’t end well, huh? George W. was probably exactly like that kid when he was in school. And now that kid hits you in the face with the dodgeball on purpose because he thinks it’s funny when your glasses go flying across the room. Well, don’t worry about that, because we’ll have our revenge one day. In fact, Mommy’s plan is already in stage III…but let’s not get distracted.

Yes, sweetie, you’re right, the RNC did attack that boy who spoke up about that bill expanding children’s health insurance. And yes, BushCo was complicit in that. It’s been shown many times that right-wing talking points originate in the White House, as you know. You're such a bright child, have I told you that today? You really know your history.

What I want to tell you about abstinence is – it sucks. As long as you have reliable birth control, you should definitely have sex as soon as you feel you are ready for it, and DEFINITELY before you get married. Why? Well, Mommy IS a two-time loser, so let’s just say that she knows a little bit about what makes a marriage go to hell in a handbasket, okay sweetie?

First of all, sex is very important. Very important. And believe me, daughter, you do not want to get stuck married to some poor schmuck whose idea of foreplay is to ask you “See how big it is?” Nor do you, my son, want to wake up one day and realize that your wife only blows you when she wants another piece of jewelry. So it’s crucial to know if you’re sexually compatible with your partner. After all, you don’t want to spend the rest of your life fighting over the dildo, hm?

Secondly, the sooner you start having and enjoying sex, the sooner you can start annoying the fuck out of Republicans, who just seem to, well, I’m not sure exactly why, but they just seem to have a huge problem with sex. I dunno, it’s partly about controlling women, and partly about this whole disingenuous worship of this totally bogus version of Christianity, anyway, best to not think about the Republicans too much, sweetie, or you might go blind.

Monday, October 08, 2007

And Iran, Iran so far away

Slowly the realization has sunk in.

We’re going to bomb Iran.

How do I know? Because Seymour Hersh says so. And Seymour Hersh is never wrong:

The President’s position, and its corollary—that, if many of America’s problems in Iraq are the responsibility of Tehran, then the solution to them is to confront the Iranians—have taken firm hold in the Administration. This summer, the White House, pushed by the office of Vice-President Dick Cheney, requested that the Joint Chiefs of Staff redraw long-standing plans for a possible attack on Iran, according to former officials and government consultants. The focus of the plans had been a broad bombing attack, with targets including Iran’s known and suspected nuclear facilities and other military and infrastructure sites. Now the emphasis is on “surgical” strikes on Revolutionary Guard Corps facilities in Tehran and elsewhere, which, the Administration claims, have been the source of attacks on Americans in Iraq. What had been presented primarily as a counter-proliferation mission has been reconceived as counterterrorism.

And the U.S. Senate is being very helpful to BushCo by agreeing to that bullshit resolution condemning the Revolutionary Guard as a terrorist organization.

I still can’t fucking believe that thing passed 76-22. It’s like the last four and half fucking years never happened at all. It’s like that fucking lame-ass Senate has completely forgotten how they all got so easily snookered on Iraq.

BushCo’s stooges this time include of course all the Republicans (except Hagel and Lugar), plus plenty of Democrats, including Hilary Clinton, California’s own piece of shit Senator Feinstein, plus senators Reid and Schumer.

Opposing were dem presidential candidates Biden and Dodd.

Abstaining were Obama and McCain.

Hm. That must be the “maverick” position.

More from Hersh:

The shift in targeting reflects three developments. First, the President and his senior advisers have concluded that their campaign to convince the American public that Iran poses an imminent nuclear threat has failed (unlike a similar campaign before the Iraq war), and that as a result there is not enough popular support for a major bombing campaign. The second development is that the White House has come to terms, in private, with the general consensus of the American intelligence community that Iran is at least five years away from obtaining a bomb. And, finally, there has been a growing recognition in Washington and throughout the Middle East that Iran is emerging as the geopolitical winner of the war in Iraq.

During a secure videoconference that took place early this summer, the President told Ryan Crocker, the U.S. Ambassador to Iraq, that he was thinking of hitting Iranian targets across the border and that the British “were on board.”

The British are on board, folks. The CIA is ramping up the intelligence-fixing machine, and our senators are more submissive than a retriever that just pissed on the carpet.

But the best part? The best part is that because the Iranians are Shia, the U.S. is now giving weapons and support to our former insurgent enemies in Iraq, the Sunnis. And who do the Sunni insurgent groups work with?



Christ, I give up.

Thursday, October 04, 2007

Thanks, but no thanks

It’s really weird to see the recent unqualified support for Israel coming from hardcore Christian Evangelicals, two groups of people that you’d think would have precious little in common.

Several thousand Evangelicals are in Israel right now to support the nation and to celebrate Sukkot, the Jewish festival of al fresco dining.

Seriously, though, Sukkot, like a few other Jewish holidays, is a remembrance of the hardships suffered in the past, and an opportunity to give thanks for present blessings. It’s sort of like the US holiday of Thanksgiving. Only it’s too bad that while the holiday is being celebrated, more contemplation isn’t given to the people who have been displaced by those who were blessed enough to inherit a land of abundance.

I’m talking about Native Americans, of course. Who did you think I was talking about?

According to this NPR story, while many Israelis welcome the support of the way-Christian pilgrims, some rabbis and officials are warning citizens against participating in any Evangelical-type events:

The fervor of these evangelicals worries many Israelis. Mina Fenton, a Jerusalem city councilwoman from the National Religious Party, says missionary activity has increased in recent years. She says she is even more disturbed by the theology of many of the evangelical Christians who are waiting for the Second Coming of Christ.

"Everything is linked with the belief in their messiah," she says. "They want, ultimately, any one of them, when you speak more than 10 minutes — after the political support and the economic support — they say what their aim is: The Jewish people have to convert."

Über-Christians aren’t the only ones who require conversion as the price of paradise, of course, and the Jews aren't their only targets, either, so I urge the Israelis not to take it personally. The god types have let me know more than once that when the Rapture comes, I and all my godless/gay/sexy/substance abusing/generally naughty friends will be hanging in the hot tub of eternal hellfire, while they will be enjoying the company of God himself, in a heaven that is as restricted as the Augusta National Golf Club during the Eisenhower administration.

But despair not. Because I say, let ‘em have it. Who the hell wants to live in a place that, anyway?

First of all, the music would suck. Seriously, have you ever heard Christian rock? It’s a lot like Nickelback, only without the amazing musicianship, thought-provoking themes, and timeless compositions. Plus, they only ever sing about God and Jesus. If they were to ever sing one line of any song that wasn’t about how much they love God and/or Jesus, their entire audience would wake from their worship-The-Almighty-induced trance, and start yelling at the stage “Hey, you’re not singing about God or Jesus! Stop that at once! I demand only God or Jesus-related content, please.”

Secondly, need I say that the only sex you would be having up there is of the I’d-rather-be-watching-Dancing-with-the-Stars variety?

Thirdly, no booze or drugs allowed. Some of you out there would be cool with this stipulation, others of you…um, not so much. And far be it for me to judge anyone on this count, especially since the last time I drank too much was…last night.

Hey, it was Top Chef finale night.

Fourthly, I don’t know how many of you have eaten with Evangelical types, but the food they serve is just awful. Sure it’s all mayonnaise-, jello-, or mayonnaise AND jello-based, but that’s not even the worst of it. It’s all bland as hell. Look, I once took some potato salad to a family reunion, and all I heard about all day long was how “spicy” it was. “Lord, this is so spicy!” they observed as they fanned their tongues with their reunion programs. “My goodness, does everyone in the big city eat such spicy food?” they all said as their eyes watered, and they all reached for their jumbo glasses of fucking awful sweet-ass iced tea.

What did I put in the potato salad, you ask, that caused such physical discomfort?

Garlic salt. A teeny tiny, itty bitty pinch of garlic salt.

That’s a true story.

Mostly. But back to my point, which is that their heaven would suck, and they can have it. If the price of margaritas and Kung Pao and hot, unmarried sex with my Spooney while listening to Interpol’s fucking rad new album is that I have to spend all eternity not regretting that I did it any other way, then sign me up, bubba. Sign me the fuck up.

Wednesday, October 03, 2007


After reading Evgenia Peretz’s wonderful piece in this month’s Vanity Fair about the savaging of Al Gore by the lazy-ass, insincere, cynical press in the 2000 presidential race, I was reminded once again what a piece of shit Chris Matthews is. Not that he’s alone in abandoning his journalistic duties in order to engage in crass, self-serving behavior, but he is particularly good at it.

Some examples from the article:

On two consecutive nights of Hardball, Chris Matthews brought up this same trio as examples of Gore's "delusionary" thinking. "What is it, the Zelig guy who keeps saying, 'I was the main character in Love Story. I invented the Internet. I invented Love Canal.…' It reminds me of Snoopy thinking he's the Red Baron." "It became part of the vocabulary," Matthews says today. "I don't think it had a thunderous impact on the voters." He concedes, however, that such stories were repeated too many times in the media.

First of all, I suspect I need hardly remind my readers that Gore did not say he was the inspiration for Love Story, did not say he invented the internet, and did not say he discovered Love Canal.

But to a journalist like Matthews, it hardly mattered. Saying so was good TV.

Secondly, calling Al Gore a liar on television didn’t have a thunderous impact on the voters??

Chris, you are too modest. And that’s unlike you.

But more than that, it wasn’t as if the journalists themselves picked up on what Gore said and decided to exploit it or misquote him themselves. They took their cues from the opposing party. No journalist cared about what Al Gore said about the internet until Republicans starting making fun of him, and then all of a sudden it was a “news story.” It was, as Rove would no doubt put it, “fair game.”

Just like that debate in 2000. Remember? The one that all the talking heads gave to Gore. And then, the next day, they all changed their minds. Gore was too peevish. He had sighed too much. He rolled his eyes when Bush spoke. Who did he think he was?

What happened overnight to bring about the change? Republicans had spliced together a tape of Gore sighing and sent it around to journalists.

And a campaign narrative was born. Born not in the minds of the press, but in the camp of the opposing party. The press was only the carrier.

More Matthews via Peretz:

One obstacle course the press set up was which candidate would lure voters to have a beer with them at the local bar. "Journalists made it seem like that was a legitimate way of choosing a president," says Newsweek columnist Jonathan Alter. "They also wrongly presumed, based on nothing, that somehow Bush was more likable." Chris Matthews contends that "the likability issue was something decided by the viewers of the debates, not by the commentators," but adds, "The last six years have been a powerful bit of evidence that we have to judge candidates for president on their preparation for the office with the same relish that we assess their personalities."

Oh, really, Chris? Then I expect you to not only stop slavering over the manliness of George W., but to resist the temptation to speculate on whether Hillary is faking her laughter.

Especially given the incredibly fake laughter escaping from your mouth as Jon Stewart roasts you over a hot coal or two.

Suddenly, I feel so much better.

Sister, Sister

This is weird.

My team? In the playoffs.

My boyfriend's team? Playoffs.

My sister's team? Hello, playoffs!

I'm not really worried about who would win a Cubs v. Red Sox World Series, because as everyone knows, that was long ago predicted as one of the seven signs of the apocalypse, and so all my friends and I would be dead and swimming in the lake of eternal hellfire while a blue-faced Mel Gibson whips us and calls us "sugartits" and we are forced to watch the complete Lethal Weapon canon for the rest of eternity.

My vision of hell is very Gibson-specific.

Anyhoo, I'm not so worried about the series as I am a scenario in which my team meets my sister's team in the next round of the playoffs.

This could trigger a sibling rivalry not seen between us since we discovered DSW only had one navy blue distressed leather Firenze hobo bag left on clearance.

As I recall, I won that battle.


Monday, October 01, 2007

This goes to 11

Every once in a while I run into someone who, while informing me that they’re a Democrat, also confesses to me that if John McCain were the Republican nominee, they would have to vote for him in the general election.

Why? Because he’s “honest,” or “sincere,” or “tough but fair,” or other “words” and “catch phrases” that they’ve “heard” from “television,” or from “their daddy.”

Honestly, I don’t think people will ever learn. Never, ever, learn. Apparently we re-elected our current numbskull-in-chief because he seemed like a guy we would want to have a beer with.

Except, ew. I’m not trying to be all “I told you so,” but I knew that dude was a creep the first time I saw him. C’mon, how stupid do you have to be, willfully or otherwise, not to see through that good ole boy act? W is and always was the very epitome of all-hat-no-cattle. I mean, Jesus Christ, he bought his “ranch” about two minutes before he entered the race, stuck, like six cows on it and decided he was gonna be our cowboy president.

I mean, the guy is scared of horses. Scared. Of horses.


So when people tell me that they like John McCain, I usually ask them if they know that he is pro-war and anti-choice, for a start. You’d be surprised how many people don’t know that. Or, oh hell, you know what? You wouldn’t be surprised at all, I bet. Like me, the ignorance of voters probably surprises you not a whit.

But now, now that McCain has decided that the next step in his be-president-or-die-trying campaign is to leap into the possible breach in the party caused by the Council for National Policy’s decision to announce that if the Republicans are going to nominate Giuliani, then they’re going to take their ball and go home.

McCain stated in a recent interview for Beliefnet that "the No. 1 issue people should make [in the] selection of the president of the United States is, 'Will this person carry on in the Judeo-Christian principled tradition that has made this nation the greatest experiment in the history of mankind?'"

Wow, pander much?

He also said “I admire the Islam.”

The Islam? Is that like “the Iraq?

But uh-oh, then he said something not so admire-y. He said “I just have to say in all candor that since this nation was founded primarily on Christian principles.... personally, I prefer someone who I know who has a solid grounding in my faith. But that doesn't mean that I'm sure that someone who is Muslim would not make a good president. I don't say that we would rule out under any circumstances someone of a different faith. I just would--I just feel that that's an important part of our qualifications to lead.”

Holy shit, did you see the size of that pander? That was HUGE!

But here comes a bigger one: “I would probably have to say yes, that the Constitution established the United States of America as a Christian nation. But I say that in the broadest sense. The lady that holds her lamp beside the golden door doesn't say, “I only welcome Christians.” We welcome the poor, the tired, the huddled masses. But when they come here they know that they are in a nation founded on Christian principles.”

If someone were to ask me if he could possibly pander more, I would have to say: none. None more pander.

I mean, seriously. The Constitution established us as Christians? Which part, exactly? The part about the power to mint coins, or the bit that prohibits inter-state tariffs?

Or, let’s see…maybe the part where they talk about establishing a Post Office?

It’s kinda sad, really, to see McCain, who used to talk smack to all those religious charlatans, trying so hard to get them to finally, finally choose him next for their team.