Archive for August 31, 2006
Today’s weird search terms
Seems people found this blog by searching for:
Octopussy Sari
“just dripping”
crossdress fifties
“i did it all for the cookie”
Wicca is an initiatory lineaged
female makeup wikipedia
vodka p.i.n.k
serenity love
Crossdress fifties? Huh.
How Psychic Are You?
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You Are 70% Psychic |
 You are pretty psychic. While you aren’t Miss Cleo, you’ve got a little ESP going on. And although you’re sometimes off on your predictions… You’re more often right than wrong So go with your instincts – you know more than you think |
Fun With Language: Bovine Edition
Today’s funnest sentence ever:
Give a precise blow to the muzzle of the cow in the event of absolute need, is also darn fine.
Bridezilla shoes
My friend got married a couple of weeks ago, and today I was looking at the pictures on the web. You know those photographers that take twenty zillion pictures and put them all on the web and then you choose what to buy? Like that.
So, there are all the posed pictures (groom with best man, bride with mother, bride with father, groom with children from previous marriage…) and there are pictures of the ceremony, of the first dance, of the reception, and then there are pictures of…stuff.
There’s a close-up of the dress; just a big picture of some of the detail work on the buttons and beading. There’s a picture of the flower petals that were given out to throw at the couple instead of rice. A picture of a table setting, a picture of the cake. And at first I was thinking, these were nice memories, these were nice keepsakes. But it went on; more gown closeups, the veil, the tiara, and finally…the shoes.
Not with feet in them, mind you. Just the shoes. A full size, extra large shot of white satin shoes with rhinestone buckle. I believe you could read the brand name still embossed on the insole. This is when I understood.
It’s a fetish.
8862
I can’t believe that Lipp is as common a surname as that!
Check the popularity of your surname.
(Stolen from Amy.)
Katrina Grief
Today is the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, and it is Katrina Blogswarm day as well. Here’s my contribution.
Political writers better-informed than I can talk about the horrendous incompetent evil political shit of Katrina. New Orleanians can talk about the devastation from ground-level. I think and write best when I make it personal, and what is personal to me about Katrina is grief and the absence of grief.
Where is the grief? I have asked before when we, as a culture, became so gorram harsh. As a companion to that, when did we become so numb? We aren’t we hurting?
I can point especially to the far right; the Limbaughs and O’Reillys and their evil minions who are okay with torture and okay with the death of children and okay with the drowning of a city. But has it infected the rest of us? Because what I don’t see is just the sadness, just the sense of loss. From that would arise outrage; from that would arise the will to change.
We have seen the destruction of an American city, and we have grieved for a couple of weeks, and then we’ve gone back to Project Runway. I grieve for New Orleans, and I grieve for us, who are so numb, as well.
Monday Movie Review: Capturing the Friedmans
Capturing the Friedmans (2003) 9/10
In 1984, Arnold Friedman is arrested for child pornography. While searching his home, the police discover that Friedman is a teacher, and has computer classes at home. Soon he is under suspicion of molesting a large number of students, and suspicion falls upon his youngest son Jesse as well. (Documentary)
Capturing the Friedmans challenges our ideas of what we know, and of what conclusions we can draw. 1984 was the height of the McMartin daycare case, and there was a lot of hysteria about the evils of child care and the dread thing that could happen to children.
But Arnold Friedman was not the innocent victim of a bizarre accusation. He was a pedophile with child pornography hidden in his home. The suspicions cast on him seem to have been based in fact. But were they?
The Friedmans were a family fascinated by videography. The documentarians were blessed with access to a large number of homemade family videos taken before and during the case. We watch as a family disintegrates before our eyes. One brother, Seth, declines to appear in the film. David, the eldest, believes his father is utterly innocent, even of pedophilia, regardless of any evidence. David is furious; with his mother, with the media, with everyone. The youngest, Jesse, is simply resigned and sad.
The film finds a very few of Friedman’s accusers who are willing to talk. Some stand by their stories and some do not. One young adult tells of the enormous pressure put on him as a child to confirm that Arnold molested him, and finally caving in. An investigator speaks, in all seriousness, of how important it is to pressure children and put words in their mouths. He seems sincerely to believe that this is best for the children.
Yet there is something wrong here. There is no way of reading this as tragic victims versus outrageous accusations. The uncomfortable perch is between somewhat guilty parties (at least in Arnold’s case) versus accusations with a grain or more of truth. The accusations are fueled by, but not an invention of, hysteria. They are blown up, expanded upon, and nurtured, until their scope is beyond belief.
While this happens to the community, what happens to the Friedmans? Each deals alone with anger, shock, and terror. They don’t come together as a family; they shatter, and to a great extent, they remain shattered twenty years later.
This isn’t a comfortable film, nor is it a lurid one. It asks us to look at what we see and simply, calmly, think. It is remarkable how difficult that is. For some people in the film (and indeed, for some people who have reviewed it), it remains out of reach.
How Grown Up Are You?
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You Are 76% Grown Up, 24% Kid |
 Congratulations, you are definitely quite emotionally mature. Although you have your moments of moodiness, you’re usually stable and level headed. |
