Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Interview with the vampire. Uhm, "neocon."

From a pointer at Shakespeare's Sister:

A conversation with Machiavelli's ghost: Controversial neoconservative Ledeen talks to Raw Story.

Oy. Just, oy. Some highlights, with commentary:

Ledeen speaks out against torture and calls for accountability at all levels, including the White House, should an investigation lead in that direction.

"Punish all the guilty parties, whoever they are, and do everything possible to prevent anything of the sort happening again," Ledeen says.

Yeah! That! And...yeah! That!

terrific. Thanks, braintrust, that's super-useful.

I describe myself as a democratic revolutionary, I don't think of myself as "conservative" at all. Indeed it seems to me that most self-described leftists today are reactionaries, and have lost the right to describe themselves as people of the left.

Well, um, yes, and yes, except for the "democratic" part. And yeah, it sucks that we're reduced to being reactionaries; that would be the heart of the problem; but then, it's hard to do much other than simply react when you're constantly under attack.

Revolutionary. Terrific. "It's just like socialism, except without all those pesky notions about equality and idealism and so on! POWER to the...um, us." ("We few...we happy few...") Oh yeah, I'm in. Trickle down on me, Daddy! Please?

I have a pretty dim view of human nature.

You know, so do I. Well, no, actually, that's not true. I have a pretty dim view of certain specific humans' nature.

Vladimir Bukovsky is one of my closest friends, and he is right when he says that torture destroys both its victims and its practitioners, and that it is deadly to any civilized enterprise.

That said, one must have a sense of context.


NEXT.

Oh, and love the way he neatly sidesteps the (astutely put) question about didn't he realize the Nazis came to power essentially through carefully orchestrated fear-mongering, not simply because "the Germans wanted it." Gee, I wonder why.

Palestine: making the political personal.


Raising Yousuf: A journalist's online account of trying to live and raise her toddler in occupied Gaza.

An excerpt:

"They try different combinations each day-25 tanks shells in a row; a gunship rocket attack; 5 more shells at eastern Gaza; drones whirring incessantly at varying speeds. 10 shells; 10 minutes of silence; sonic boom; 20 shells, with more firepower, in northern Gaza. 10 shells; one hour intermission; Shoot at someone near the fence. Stop to make sure there is no outcry and promise an investigation.

Then it continues.

Yousuf is at a very sensitive stage, where he doesn’t quite understand what’s going on-and looks to me for confirmation of whether or not he should be scared when the shelling starts. Following the advice of a friend, I continue to re-assure and distract him.

Today, I tried a new technique. Yousuf loves to sing and dance, so as the shelling started, we listened to some music my friend gave him as a gift- Suheil Khoury’s Bass Shwai, a children's CD from the Edward Said National Conservatory of Music (ESNCM), where four children, ages 9 to 11 sing songs composed by Khoury using lyrics written by various Palestinian poets and writers. Each song deals with a theme relating to children.

We listened to a song that imagines how the world might be like in different forms; a song I think can be read in many way. Needless to say, it was very therapeutic, perhaps more so for me than him. Sometimes, you need to take a step back and look through the eyes of children. Strange is what you make it I guess.

What if the world was made of wood
Birds of wood
Flowers of wood

What if the world was made of wood
Moons of wood
Stars of wood

How might it be, I wonder?
How strange…how strange
How would it be, I wonder?
How strange, how strange…
..."

Sunday, February 26, 2006

MeltDown with Bill O'Reilly



So, Bill O'Reilly's got this petition to get Keith Olbermann fired. For MSNBC's own good, of course, and the Children. Certainly nothing to do with the fact that Olbermann regularly and mercilessly mocks O'Reilly's skeezy, loofah-pockmarked ass. But here, you can see for yourself:

February 22, 2006
Chairman Robert Wright
National Broadcasting Company
30 Rockefeller Plaza
New York, New York 10112

Dear Chairman Wright:

We, the undersigned, are becoming increasingly concerned about the well-being of MSNBC and, in particular, note the continuing ratings failure of the program currently airing weeknights on that network at 8:00 PM EST.

It is now apparent to everyone that a grave injustice has been done to the previous host for that time slot, Phil Donahue, whose ratings, at the time of his show's cancellation three years ago, were demonstrably stronger than those of the current host.

Therefore, in an effort to rescue MSNBC from the ratings basement and to restore the honor and dignity of Mr. Donahue, who was ignobly removed as host three years ago, we ask that you immediately bring Phil Donahue's show back at 8:00 PM EST before any more damage is done.

***

Actually, of course, it was Michael "I Have Springs Coming Out Of My Head" Savage who originally replaced Donohue, on account of MSNBC wanted to get in on that wacky right-wing erm I mean "fair and balanced" action that made Fox so popular, but hey, details. Olbermann replaced Savage when it became clear that Savage was barking, batshit crazy and wasn't as good at hiding it as, uhm, some other people Of That Ilk.

Meanwhile, back in the land of Shamefully Cheap But Worth It Schadenfreude, Olbermann responded to His Fragileness. Check out the video at Crooks and Liars.

Oh, and: someone in one of the comment boxes had managed a screen grab of the online petition signatures, before O'Reilly's site stopped making this feature available. Gee, you wonder why. Among the last 100 or so in the screengrab:

The_New_York_Times .. Is better than Fox News -1
She's A Witch! .. Burn Her! -1 :
blow m. loofah PR
blotchyskin o. falafelscrub
AndreaMackris R. HasYourCash
falafel f. loofahville PW
Big Giant Head D. Phone Sex TN
Stephen Colbert T. Springfield PA
Seymore B. Underthe bleachers TN
PotCalling D. Kettle Black MT
LOOK AT MY BIG HEAD C. ego is bigger than my penis NY
Fraud .. Of A Human NY
Falafel n. The Shower WY
Factor My A. hole, you arrogant prick
Look At My R. Ratings Drop!

***

As you'll see in the video, O'Reilly did get at least one real person to sign, though: Olbermann himself. And the rest of his colleagues at MSNBC. Get on boaarrrrd!

"As Leslie Nielsen said, 'there's nothing like a good movement.'
Which you already know if you've seen Bill's show."

Thursday, February 23, 2006

And away we go: here comes the bill to challenge Roe v. Wade. Now.

South Dakota Legislature Passes Bill to Ban Abortion.

The gloves are off. This one would ban all abortions except when the life (not health) of the mother is in danger, in South Dakota. No exceptions for rape, incest, nada. Five year prison term for doctors who'd perform an abortion. Governor signs, Planned Parenthood files a lawsuit, and it's off and away to the Supreme Court. "The timing is right," sez the ban's sponsor. Gee, I wonder what he could mean. Hey-ho, let's go.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Mmm. Work.

This woman will tell you what it's like to work as a cabbie in NYC.

This man will make you understand, if you haven't already, why it's a really, really bad idea to piss off a waiter.

This article discusses the eternal, existential question: "Is Temping Hell?"

If you think you may detect a certain subtext to this entry, Gentle, Discerning Reader, you are not wrong.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Speaking of puritans: Misogynist godbag ratfuckers would rather you die of cervical cancer than have sex.

I'd been meaning to rant about this for a while. DarkSyde at Daily Kos did it better than I ever could have anyway.



"Eighty-percent of America's little girls will end up infected with the Human Papilloma Virus (HPV). Most will never exhibit symptoms, a bunch will chase the virus out of their bodies without ever knowing they have it. But for many it will remain, semi-dormant, and they can pass it on. The same is true for males.

Millions of them will develop a distinctive wart as a result of infection, easily diagnosed and treated. The most common sites of HPV warts include the genitals, hands, face, feet, and sometimes even the mouth or throat.

The Human Papilloma Virus is spread by contact. You can get it from someone else's hands or fingers, or from your own. It can be picked up from public facilities or by sharing clothes, by kissing, or from sexual contact. However you acquire the little bugger, once it's on your skin, its goal is to get deeper into the tissue, take over the molecular machinery of a host cell, and start making more viruses. Often the virus disrupts a key gene during this process, and if that gene happens to be a control gene which initiates or inhibits some portion of cellular division in the host cell, uncontrolled replication may follow. A little knot of cells will thus grow and grow, usually becoming visible eventually as a small bump with a cauliflower surface. And you have your wart.

But the disruption process is randomized, dependent on local chemistry within the nucleus of the host cells. And as the number of cells increases, more and more combinations of disruption occur. The probability that one of those cells crosses the threshold from benign to malignant goes up. And the end result, especially among certain types of cells, can be a cancerous tumor.


Cells in the lining of the cervix, throat, vulva, and other locations are particularly vulnerable to some of the most common strains of HPV. In fact, Cervical Cancer is believed to be caused almost exclusively by two strains of HPV. In addition this virus is strongly suspected as a common precursor in a number of other types of cancer.

Oddly enough, the link between cervical cancer and HPV is in a sense, good news. Because vaccines can be developed for viruses, cervical cancer comes with the potential of virtual elimination (Too bad all cancers don't work that way). And sure enough, pharmaceutical giant Merck & Co. recently developed a new vaccine for four strains of HPV, several of which are known to be associated with cervical and other cancers. Clinical trials indicate the vaccine is, get this, One-hundred Percent effective in preventing cervical malignancies! As a side benefit it also provides enormous protection against common types of warts which are both unattractive and trigger a false positive on PAP smears.

Results like that are breathtaking, eh? A real cure for cancer, at least one kind anyway, that works every time. Rarely in life or in science is anything one-hundred percent. And what it means is we can now give every little girl (And little boy for that matter) something never before available with a few shots in the arm: Near total protection from nasty warts along and one of the greatest cancer killers of all time, if administered early in life, before they're exposed to HPV.

Except there's a catch, here in the US anyway: The Neo-Christian Right (NCR) is opposed:

[Link] In the US, for instance, religious groups are gearing up to oppose vaccination, despite a survey showing 80 per cent of parents favor vaccinating their daughters. "Abstinence is the best way to prevent HPV," says Bridget Maher of the Family Research Council, a leading Christian lobby group that has made much of the fact that, because it can spread by skin contact, condoms are not as effective against HPV as they are against other viruses such as HIV.

'Giving the HPV vaccine to young women could be potentially harmful, because they may see it as a licence [sp?] to engage in premarital sex," Maher claims.'"

***

The author goes on to put this little tidbit in the context of a greater rant against the resurgence of the theocratic right. Worth reading the whole thing. Although it's true, as you'll read there, that one could pick any number of issues to highlight to demonstrate the evil assitude of these malevolent fucktards (choice, anti-gay bigotry, censorship, on and on), this one, well, this one really is something. Try not to get too upset as you read the anecdote of the twenty-five-year-old woman who fought recurring and ever more godawfully painful recurrences of cervical cancer, until it killed her. Restrain yourself from tracking down the nearest Family Research Council representative or similar godbag and saying and doing...things that one ought to restrain oneself from saying and doing. Or, you know, not.

Evil pustulent planaria cumstains. Burn in hell.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

In your face, puritans.

BBC: Masturbation cuts your risk of prostate cancer. I look forward to the screams and wails from the Anti-Sex League/Defenders of the Hearth and Home via Policing Everyone Else's Bedroom.

What the article doesn't say, but I have often speculated about: *how* the boys might masturbate for best results? Because I'm thinking: besides the fact that ejaculation is good for you (hello), also, anal penetration can be a real effective way to massage the prostate...

78 year old shooting victim apologizes to Cheney.

No, I'm not fucking joking.

'"My family and I are deeply sorry for all that Vice-President Cheney and his family have had to go through this past week," Whittington told reporters outside Christus Spohn Hospital in Corpus Christi, Texas. "We send our love and respect to them as they deal with situations that are much more serious than what we have had this week.'

***

That is just...well...I...fnu...glph. I shouldn't be surprised at anything anymore, and in the greater scheme of things...and yet, and yet. Apologizing to the guy who shot you in the face and triggered your heart attack is just such a fucking on-the-nail symbol of everything that's wrong with this administration and what it represents that now I am fully expecting them all to come equipped with their own personal theme music and a thunderclap and lightning bolt after every public statement. This is just not even happening. This is some fucked up screenwriter's nightmare we're all stuck in. Someone who apparently thought that the problem with "Revenge of the Sith" was that it was just too fucking subtle. Someone who watched a Monty Python episode and concluded that it was a documentary. YO, ASSHAT, TIME TO WAKE UP AND GET US SOME FUCKING REWRITE.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Do not click this link

New Abu Gharib photos, via Chris Clarke. And if you don't have the stomach for more horrific torture performed by grinning idiots all in the name of "freedom," democracy, and...(if you're a United States citizen) you, then do at least go to Clarke's site, Creek Running North, for the fine writing.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

The most interesting thing about the Cheney shooting business,

to me, anyway: say what you will about Americans' attention deficit problem, when it comes to cases like this, boy, we're all over it. Not just that it's a juicy scandal, one that potentially affords schadenfreude, either.
I mean: give us a concrete, whodunit or at least whendunit or whydunit crime story, and suddenly everyone turns into Hercule Poirot. Congraulations, Dick: you're now entering the Lewinsky zone. And if the guy croaks, you'll be joining the fine ranks of OJ Simpson and Scott Peterson in our Hall of National Obsessions.

As it is, you can find this sort of animated discussion happening all over the place:

To what degree angle could a hunter reasonably be expected to swing the gun? How many entry wounds, exactly? What can we expect Cheney's blood alcohol content to have been if he truly only had one beer at lunch? If the quail flushed out *toward* Cheney, and the incident happened at 5:30, and this administration has two and a half more years in office, how many blue dresses would it take to soak up the mess? And what time does the train get into the station, and when do we see the light at the end of the tunnel?

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Speaking of parents: What *about* the Lakoff model, anyway?

I still haven't got much past the opening chapters of "Moral Politics," so for all I know Lakoff does address this very issue later in the book. But here's an angle on his basic premise (thus far) that I haven't seen talked about in public discourse much, at least.

Say he's right and the Republicans are the "stern father" party while the Dems are the "nurturing mother" party. Okay. Well, the thing is, even assuming you tend to favor one parental model over the other (as normal Republicans/Democrats are assumed to do), there are still functional and dysfunctional versions of each, aren't there.

Right now, what we've got running the joint isn't Father Knows Best sternly but efficiently laying down the law, prudently managing household funds, doling out "tough love" so that the kids can stand on their own two feet, and so on. What we've got is a raging junkie who already blew through the kids' college funds and Grandma's nest egg in order to support his numerous substance abuse habits, bail money, and the horses, and is now selling off the furniture. He lies like a rug and is slipperier 'n' a greased weasel when you try to pin him down. And if the lies and evasions don't work, he's screaming abuse and threats, which he backs up with his fists and whatever else is handy. (Sometimes he does that anyway, just to keep you on your toes, as it were). Alternating with phases of charm and extravagant promises of how the good times are just around the corner, if you'll just give him another chance. Poor guy. No one believes in him, is the problem. He just don't get no respect. Pay the man the respect that's due him!

And the Democrats? They're the "enabling" mom who's so beaten down and mindfucked by now that it takes all her energy just to get through the day, let alone summon up the resources to figure out how the hell to get rid of the monster without getting killed in the process. She provides neither protection nor nurturing, not really, even if she patches up the cuts and gives some hugs after the worst of the damage is done. She is not an effective role model. She just walks on eggshells and tries to make believe that it's not so bad, really; if you just wouldn't do xyz, he wouldn't get so mad.

Now here's the punchline. In individual, non-metaphorical versions of this scenario, the kids tend to blame Mom more than Dad. Partly because it's too fucking scary to confront Dad, even internally, and at least Mom (the real deal as well as the one in your head) won't kill you if you get angry at her. And partly, this happens because Mom is perceived to be the sane one, and therefore, the reasoning goes, she could do her job, but won't. She fell down; she did not protect. In effect, she's asking the kids to take care of her.

On Dad's side of the equation, there are phenomena such as "traumatic bonding" and "identifiation with the aggressor," (which is as good an explanation for the freepers as I can think of). Some people will look at the false dilemma of these two inadequate role models, and reckon that if the only apparent choices are being strong and abusive and being weak and abused, they'll go with the strong guy. Anyway, he certainly sounds more convincing when he says he's right; and by now you've learned that trusting your own intuition gets you nowhere, so naturally you're gonna go with the guy who trumpets the loudest that he'll keep you safe. Even if he's the one who's been beating the crap out of you.

Is this fair, then, this focusing of the blame on the "lesser of two evils?" Is this rational? Probably not, not entirely anyway. But, it's there.

So yeah, I get the frustration. I don't want to send the Dems another check, even if they are all we've got. Especially if they're all we've got. I don't feel like sticking up for them because they're "doing the best they can," even if it's true. Not as long as their best isn't doing the job. Where the hell is Auntie Mame when you need her?

Monday, February 13, 2006

See, this is a good Mom.

Bitch Ph.D. educates her boy on gender politics, fashion, and the delicate art of diplomacy.

I don't know if I'm more impressed that she helped her son polish his nails and sent him to school with the manicure, or that she was able to convince him not to belabor the point by arguing with the snotty little girl who told him "boys can't paint their nails," once he'd showed her that he could and did. I think the latter. How many of us supposed adults understand about quitting while we're ahead? Or that it's more important that we and our loved ones know who we are and can express it freely than to prove it to some random, snotty stranger?

Baby blue


From the so-aptly-named Cute Overload.

Now I have a terrible kitten jones. My five-year-old cat would kill me or eat it, not necessarily in that order. Maybe. Weellll...NO, dammit. Bad timing. Bad idea.


(o but it's so kyooooot)

*sigh* It's gonna be one of those days, isn't it.

Sunday, February 12, 2006

The personal IS political. Which means crazy persons will have crazy politics.

This post over at Mad Melancholic Feminista hits on a subject near and dear (well, maybe not "dear" exactly...) to my heart; to wit, the uncanny ways in which a political wingnut's approach to "debate" will have to the ways in which your garden-variety personality-disordered person will interact. Regardless of the label, you end up walking away from the encounter feeling like *you're* the crazy one, not to mention drained and exhausted.

Really encourage you to go over there and read the whole thing, especially the techniques which wingnuts/PD'd will use with you ("projective identification" is the biggie).

Just a couple notes of my own here:

*As one of the commenters on MMF's site pointed out, yes, it's true, this sort of wingnuttish behavior is not limited to people on the right end of the spectrum. I can vouch that my last trip down the rabbit hole was with self-styled lefties.

However, there's a good argument to be made that the current administration, or most of it, falls squarely into the "wingnut" camp, and it isn't just about this issue or that issue. It's about a fundamental belief system. As Lakoff, among others, have pointed out, we all have one. What interests me, though, is where such belief systems come from, and how they manifest outside of the political sphere. Someday soon I'll have a longer post or twelve about all this, and what it might mean for a "sane society" (Erich Fromm). I feel strongly that it's going to be crucial for more of us to understand how this works, if we ever want to see a true sea change in the zeitgeist as well as the three branches of federal government.

*There are, I feel obliged to point out, some worthy human beings out there who have been diagnosed BPD (or, more rarely, as they tend to be less likely to seek therapy, NPD or APD/"sociopathy"), and are actively working on their stuff. Not to mention people who struggle with mood disorders and other chemical imbalances. I don't lump these folks in with the wingnut/frootbat brigade, myself. There's crazy and there's crazy and there's crazy.

And without getting too far into the sticky questions of "how much of the behavior is stuff the person can't help? nature/nurture?" and so on, the deal is: the personality disordered, particularly those of the antisocial/borderline/narcissistic cluster, project blame outward. Which means that by definition, if you've got this sort of personality, you will not take any responsibility for your own behavior. You won't think, consciously at least, that you have a problem at all. It's the rest of the world that has the problem. (Which is a great segue into "radical" political activism, for some). Which means that the chances of actual change are slim.

And, blame and labels aside, coming back full circle to MMF's point, the bottom line is that it's worse than useless to try to have a rational discussion/argument with such people. You think you're playing tennis; they're playing Calvinball. And then they'll whack you in the head with the racket and loudly complain about your cheating.

Saturday, February 11, 2006

Pandora's music box

Pandora: your own personal computerized DJ.

Shout-out to Susie Bright for the link. Since I'm lazy tonight, I'm going to just cutnpaste her summation of how it works:

***

"It makes a unending playlist of songs based on your ear.

When you go to their page, they ask you to name a song you especially like. Pandora looks up that song, and runs it through a serious of musicology formulas they've devised.

A personal "radio station" pops up that delivers streaming songs based on the temperament of your original choice. It's rather uncanny..."

***

It is uncanny. It's actually quite brilliant. More often than not, it's right: the pick will find you sliding into your own personal, elusive groove. Even if you've never heard of the song or the artist before. And chances are good that it will play stuff you don't know, thus expanding your horizons. And if you don't like it, you can click a "thumbs down" icon, and it not only won't play that song again (it even apologizes that you didn't like it, which i found oddly touching, somehow), but will factor it into its next choice. A "thumbs up" ensures that it'll play that song again. You can also create a new, spin-off station based on a choice you like. You can simultaneously create other stations: you're allowed up to a hundred with your free registration.

Surprisingly, it often crosses genres. One of my lists was based on "Squirrel Nut Zippers," (you can ask for a song or an artist). I expected mostly more hot jazz, maybe with a "quirky" tinge. So far it's given me, among others:

Red & the Red Hots, "But Baby" (the sort of thing I did expect, then:)
Violent Femmes, "Country Death Song"
Creedence Clearwater Revival, "Don't Look Now"
Leon Redbone, "Sugar"
Sam Phillips, "How To Quit"
Tom Waits, "All the World is Green"

You can ask it why it picked what it did, and it'll give you technical terms like "acoustic sonority" as well as more layperson-identifiable stuff like "romantic lyrics." Clearly whatever list of common denominators they tell you is just a fraction of a huge database, intelligently designed by people who know their music as well as their computin'.

Pandora's aptly named. Open it, and you may never be able to shut the damn thing down and go to bed already.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Wrestling with the mailbox

...not to be confused with wrestling with the angel.

No, just: my building was built in the late 1920's, which in itself is a plus in many ways. Bigger and more aesthetically pleasing rooms, solid-er walls and so on, and, surprisingly enough, better plumbing (mostly) than you tend to get in the more recently constructed places. Unfortunately, it's not kept up as well as it could be, and there are some aspects that could definitely use an update.

To wit: the aforementioned mailboxes. Are about the height, width, and depth of three DVD's. And I, like most of us in this our modern woild, get a shitload of junk mail*. Which means that nearly every day, I'm struggling for a good five minutes, sometimes longer, to wrest out a bunch of crap that I'm just going to pitch immediately into the trash anyway, often cutting my hand in the process. (The mailperson thoughtfully tucks the bulkier pieces in behind the little jutting pieces of metal along the sides, just in case they might try to escape). It's just another one of those drip-drip-drip torments that would hardly be worth noticing once, or twice. But every day...

(*did they not have as much mail back in the day? Maybe they only had small, thin envelopes to contend with--no, wait, at least the Sears Catalogue must have been a stretch. maybe everyone was just really, really tiny. less protein and all. yeah, that must be it).

Anyway I know I'm not alone in feeling this way, and possibly not even the most insane about it, prone though I unfortunately am to loud and unneighborly cursing. In similar vein, the trash receptacles are roughly the size of a box of Tic-Tacs. Which, unless you remember to use about 30 separate baggies, means a reprise of the mailbox struggle, only this time with nasty, smelly old food. The trash room is also the recycling room, and for months, there was a small feud going on in my floor's room, all through notes. Like so:

NEIGHBOR ONE: "This room is for recycling only. Please don't leave food or other smelly trash in here. It brings vermin. Throw it down the chute. Thank you."

(note is torn down, then replaced, written in caps, darker ink, and with multiple underscores, and pasted in two other places).

NEIGHBOR TWO: "if u want us to throw it away than build a bigger chute."

(some days pass, then:)

NEIGHBOR ONE (or possibly NEIGHBOR 1A): "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PEOPLE. PLEASE. BE ADULTS. IT'S NOT THAT DIFFICULT, IS IT?! MUST EVERYONE ELSE PICK UP YOUR MESS??"

SUPER: (Reminder about the room being for recycling only, with an addendum that anything left there would be thrown away).

NEIGHBOR TWO: (in poison-green ink): "nobody asked you to mess with it, that was suppose to be left there. stop playing with everyone's trash you filthy animal :-) "

***

I wonder how the hell people managed to keep from killing each other before indoor plumbing.

"YOU SEVEN-BY-NINE B'HOYS! YOU MAKE THESE DIGGINGS INTO A DOGGERY!"

"PSHAW, YOU HIGHFALUTIN BLUENOSE, NO NEED TO GET SO ALL-FIRED WRATHY. IT AIN'T YOUR FUNERAL NOHOW."

"STOP EMPTYING YOUR CHAMBER POT ONTO MY HUSBAND! LAST TIME YOU RUINED HIS BEST INEXPRESSIBLES!"

"AH, SHUT PAN, YOUR OLD MAN'S A LICK-SPITTLE, AND HE HAS THE FRENCH POX. :-)"

Vicarious snerk all 'round the world

The Exile's website is a great place to not only read some American journalists you may already know in other contexts (Matt Taibbi, previously known to moi only via New York Press and some subsequent freelance articles, is/was a founder), but to learn all about Moscovite archetypes. And, more important, how dangerous each of them is when provoked.

Closer to home (my home, okay; I am the center of the universe. like Camille, I am the cosmos. goo goo ka choo), Ed Ward will tell you exactly how, and why, Berlin Bites.

Friday, February 03, 2006

nN~ruQt?>/!tHHPLLlttt...

Just a tiny question to the authors of "word verification," here and elsewhere:

The goal is to make sure the poster is a human and not a spambot, right? Not some sort of vision test, or guessing game, or cruel jest at our expense, right?

So, what's up with the calligraphy? The squiggly-wigglies? The transparent floaty letters hovering in some sort of typographic twilight zone? The dare I say hieroglyphics, even?

Would it be too much to ask that the word to be typed be, you know, *typed?*

In readable letters?

So that we could enter the post within the first two or three tries?

tH
any!K

o u

"Oh, sorry, Argument's down the hall..."

...it's getting hit on the head lessons in here. Eternally.



ME: Hi there, just poking my head in, as I'm finding you kind of aggressively insane on another site and my curiosity finally got the better of me and...my goodness, you're even more of a frootbat than I thought, aren't you. Oh, dear. Well. Hmm.

FB: How DARE you come into MY space and say these things?!
Not another word out of you! Not! One!! Word!!! Or I'll BAN you!

ME: Buh-bye, then.


FB: That's it!! That's another word!!! I warned you! I warned you!
Right, you're banned.


Um...okay!


Note to self: must. stop. engaging these people...

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Like, wicked stupid


A pointer to the amusingly horrid Dating Horrors inspired me to dredge up this one.

Once I had a personal ad in the "Women seeking Women" section of the local alternative rag. You could retrieve responses by phone. Mostly these were reasonable women, if none I really clicked with. There was, however, one doozie. Lemme see if I can recreate it from memory:

MALE VOICE, THICK JOISEY ACCENT:

Hey, ____, I saw your ad. You sound real cool. My situation is, me and my girlfriend, we got this little Suzie. We played with her a couple times, you know. Then she fell hard for my girl and now she follows her around like a little puppy dog. And now me and my girl want to get married, so...You'll like her, she's real cute. She'll do anything you want. One thing, though (laughs): She is like, wicked stupid. Anyway, call me, you're interested, we'll hook something up. Later. BEEEEP

***

I confess I was strongly tempted to respond, if only to find out how l'il Suzie took to all this. That, or turn it into a screenplay for some whacked-out noir flick. Dunno how it turns out, but I'm fairly certain that at some point someone ends up in a trunk.