Archive for December 24, 2006

Conversation is dangerous

Everyone is talking about this crazy-ass bitch at Townhall who wants the bitches to shut up and I dunno, be barefoot in the kitchen with a black eye or something.

Mary Grabar isn’t pissed off at Nancy Pelosi or Hillary Clinton. Nope. She’s going after The View:

…it’s a sign of our crumbling civilization that a bunch of girls of varying ages and ethnic backgrounds, sitting around all dressed up for a coffee klatch, some of them with cleavage spilling out of Victoria’s Secret Infinity Edge Push-Up bras, spout off opinions borrowed from disturbed teenagers and Michael Moore, and call it a talk show.

This was the danger of giving women the vote. The danger to conservatives (and the survival of this country) is the voting bloc of single women, i.e., those who lack the guidance of a man in the form of a husband or intellectual mentor.

This is sick shit, and other bloggers have smacked it down effectively. But what gets me is how desperate the right has become. It’s not enough to throw misogynist insults at Nancy Pelosi. It’s not enough to imply that Barak Obama is secretly a terrorist. It’s not enough to Swift Boat every Democrat at every turn. Because they’ve done all of that, and Democrats have still regained control of Congress, the American people still want us out of Iraq, and Bush is still woefully unpopular.

So now they have to tell husbands what they should allow their wives to watch on daytime television. Think about how silly that is. How weak and ineffectual. That conservative ideas are so shaky, so meritless, that to protect them they must make sure that liberal women cannot have conversations without being, not ridiculed, but treated as a serious threat to the common good.

When you are in danger even from afternoon talk shows, then afternoon talk shows are indeed the least of your worries.

The Magical Mystery Meme

I’ve been meme-tagged.

Four of the following things are absolutely true about me, and one is not.

1) When I was 14, a bunch of friends and I stole (”borrowed”) the school truck (private boarding school). We figured not to get caught by rolling into the school parking lot with the lights out. Which we did at the exact moment that a school trip in the van was arriving back at school, with two teachers and a bunch of students all staring at us.

2) Many years ago (1982 or ’83) I worked for a small branch of a very large corporation. My boss was fired under mysterious circumstances, accused of orchestrating a large scam, thieving from the company and yadda yadda. In 1999, I became friends with a group of movie fans via the ‘net. One of them turned out to have taken over as my old boss’s boss.

3) I get all OCD about my chairs. I have ONE chair in my kitchen that I sit in (we call it “my spot”) and ONE part of the living room couch. If a guest takes either of these chairs I get all oogly.

4) I used to date Ben Vereen’s nephew. He would regale my daily with stories about Broadway stars he had met and heard about, and backstage shenanigans. He had particularly nasty things to say about Billy Dee Williams. I never met Uncle Ben (teehe) but I heard so much about him. Via Uncle Ben, my ex seemed to have met every black person who ever appeared on Broadway. In fact, one time we were watching The Grifters, and Bob had something to say about Pat Hingle, and I was like “But he’s white!” Which made Bob laugh.

5) I have a gap between two of my back teeth that I floss constantly. Everything gets stuck back there. Ew, nasty.

Okay, I tag Tom, Amy, and Evn.

I am Evil


How evil are you?

Friday Catblogging: Guest Cat

My best friend’s cat Baldar
Mr. Fluffy Pantalones

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Answers for Tuesday Trivia of 12/19

Answers below the fold.
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Blessed Solstice

Tonight’s the longest night of the year. Jason has a beautiful and beautifully illustrated post up about Winter Solstice.

Fritalian

I don’t actually see many commercials, what with the TiVo and the Netflix and all, but the other day I saw a Dunkin Donuts commercial that made my eyeballs bleed from the sheer offensiveness of it all.

The commercial shows unhappy looking people ordering latte and cappucino and other specialty coffees. They complain

My mouth can’t form these words. My mind can’t find these words. Is it French or is it Italian? Perhaps Fritalian.

At this point, my eyeballs hurt from the pain but do not yet bleed. Making fun of foreign “unpronounceable” words is nasty. But then they offer you Dunkin Donuts, a place where you can order your latte without resorting to foreign words.

Read that again. Latte. Without foreign words. Feel the blood dripping from eyeballs? Yes you do.

So is this some sort of irony? Is DD saying their customers are SO FUCKING STUPID that they don’t know “latte” is a foreign word? Does this oh so clever irony thereby justify and excuse making fun of nasty-sounding ferriners? (No.)

And I’m bothered because if you know me, you know I loves me some plebian. And therefore, the fact that I actually prefer plain ol’ Dunkin to a fancy Starbucks coffee delights me. And this commercial is clearly designed to establish plebian cred. Clearly designed with the assumption that plebian=ignorant xenophobic slob. Which is more than disturbing.

And p.s., while I was googling for a link to the video, I found I am not the only blogger offended by this bit of nasty.

I overflow with kindness

Hints have been added to the two remaining Tuesday Trivia questions. Roberta can get #7.

So completely not a foil office

So I had about twenty people in my house Saturday night. Good time. And someone pranked me.

Two pairs of drawers in the dresser were switched. Someone actually removed two drawers, put them in each others’ place, and then did it again. They’re a little bit heavy, too.

The light bulbs in my only bedroom lamp were loosened just enough so that the light didn’t go on.

Two framed pictures in the dining room were switched.

The calendar in the kitchen was turned to June.

So I’m thinking, this is the stupidest prank ever. The lamp actually went right over my head. I went to turn it on as I was getting in bed and I thought, Oh, must be loose bulbs, and tightened them. I have no idea why I thought that but it didn’t even occur to me it was a prank until the next day.

It’s not like it’s crazy funny or elaborate, like the foil office. It’s not a look-on-her-face prank, ’cause (1) they didn’t see me, and (2) I wasn’t exactly shocked. Mildly befuddled. There could be no thrilling “wait’ll she…” thoughts, because seriously, no water splashed upon my head, my hands did not turn blue, I didn’t faint or laugh or scream or giggle or fall down. So what was the point?

There was, I should point out, a lot of booze and food and drums and funny people downstairs, so leaving all that to go upstairs and switch drawers strikes me as not as much fun.

So. Dumb prank. Meaning one of my friends is…not very creative.

Handprint

My friend has a newborn daughter. He is, like most new fathers, head over heels, and has chosen to express it in a unique way.

Gorgeous Tattoo

We’ve talked before about the spirituality and meaning of tattooing, I thought this this was an exquisite and moving example of how we can transform ourselves with sacred marks. Here is a symbol that is both an expression of love and of commitment. My friend Steve will never be apart from his daughter, because he has chosen to place her on his arm. He carries her literally and figuratively. He shows the world that he is permanently changed by becoming a father. This is really everything that a tattoo can be.