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Monday, September 26, 2011
The Green Hornet
A newspaper publisher (Seth Rogen) moonlights as a masked crimefighter nicknamed ‘The Green Hornet’ accompanied by his Asian valet, martial arts expert Kato. Despite his heroic intentions, he is considered so disreputable among law enforcement that he is able to talk casually with known criminals and even do business with them. Rogen says the movie’s not a comedy, despite his presence, and with the director being Michel Gondry (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Be Kind Rewind) how this’ll turn out is anyone’s guess.
Wedding Hairstyles: 24 Hot Wedding Hairstyles
Wedding Hairstyles: 25 Hot Wedding Hairstyles
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Friday, September 23, 2011
The Virtual Pub Is Open
[Explanations: lol your fat. pathetic anger bread. hey your gay.]
TFIF, Shakers!
Belly up to the bar,
and name your poison!
It's Science.
The hero who put this shit together says: "Everyone knows that the greatest and most iconic contribution to Cinema is Tom Selleck's Moustache. So great is it that there isn't a single film that would not be imroved by the inclusion of Tom Selleck's Moustache. As proof I present this montage."
There's a list here of the movies included in the video for all you dinguses who can't view it.
Another Day...
...another imminent shutdown of the US government if Congress can't get its shit together.
The government is so broken at this point that it would be hilarious, if only it weren't so goddamn tragic.
ETA. Richard's got more here.
The government is so broken at this point that it would be hilarious, if only it weren't so goddamn tragic.
ETA. Richard's got more here.
Photo of the Day
A baby giraffe and her mother snuggle each other in their enclosure at Tama Zoological Park in Tokyo. The baby giraffe was born on August 6 at the zoo. [Getty Images]
Community Project: Operation Get Loved Up!
by Shaker BrianWS
Hey, everyone!
So here's the thing – I need the help of Shakers who are or have been in meaningful romantic relationships.
Liss and I came up with an idea for what we think could be a neat community project that challenges conventional models of romantic love, but it's dependent on your participation; I'm hoping that some of you would be willing to share some super adorable photographs of you and your sweetie - pictures of you and your spouse, partner(s), boyfriend, girlfriend, or whatever name or label you and your love choose to embrace. Please note that we ask you obtain your sweetie's consent to send the photo.
Anyone is welcome to participate - and of course pictures with partners who have passed are welcome, too. The end goal is to create a little project for the community that celebrates love between people of all sexualities, all genders, all ages, all races, all shapes.
Here are the terms, so to speak – I'll use as many photographs as I possibly can, in the order in which I receive them. No photographs will be altered aside from possibly being resized. The final product will be posted on YouTube, so don't send anything that you wouldn't want available for public viewing by anyone who happens to find it.
So if you're interested in participating, go ahead and attach your favorite photograph of you and your love to an email, and fire it over to me at ShakerBrianWS@gmail.com – I'll put something together with the photographs I receive and then share it with you all when the project is finished.
Looking forward to seeing your lovely, happy pictures!
[Note from Liss: I realize this particular community project will not be applicable for all members of the community. Many community projects won't be. I hope that anyone who would like to see a different kind of community project will feel invited to suggest their own.]
Hey, everyone!
So here's the thing – I need the help of Shakers who are or have been in meaningful romantic relationships.
Liss and I came up with an idea for what we think could be a neat community project that challenges conventional models of romantic love, but it's dependent on your participation; I'm hoping that some of you would be willing to share some super adorable photographs of you and your sweetie - pictures of you and your spouse, partner(s), boyfriend, girlfriend, or whatever name or label you and your love choose to embrace. Please note that we ask you obtain your sweetie's consent to send the photo.
Anyone is welcome to participate - and of course pictures with partners who have passed are welcome, too. The end goal is to create a little project for the community that celebrates love between people of all sexualities, all genders, all ages, all races, all shapes.
Here are the terms, so to speak – I'll use as many photographs as I possibly can, in the order in which I receive them. No photographs will be altered aside from possibly being resized. The final product will be posted on YouTube, so don't send anything that you wouldn't want available for public viewing by anyone who happens to find it.
So if you're interested in participating, go ahead and attach your favorite photograph of you and your love to an email, and fire it over to me at ShakerBrianWS@gmail.com – I'll put something together with the photographs I receive and then share it with you all when the project is finished.
Looking forward to seeing your lovely, happy pictures!
[Note from Liss: I realize this particular community project will not be applicable for all members of the community. Many community projects won't be. I hope that anyone who would like to see a different kind of community project will feel invited to suggest their own.]
Daily Dose of Cute
Because he's sweet like that, Iain brought me home from Scotland an Aero bar, which is a British candy bar I really like but can't easily get around here. I've been eating it like one bite a day, because it's such a rare treat. I left the 3/4 of it that's left sitting out on the end table in the living room last night, like I always do. You see where this is going...
A few minutes ago, I walked into the living room and the EMPTY WRAPPER WAS ON THE FLOOR!!! I turned around to see Zelda looking at me with a wagging tail and a grin on her face that seemed to say, "O HAI! I discovered chocolate! It is very tasty! I LOOOOOOOVE ETT! I LOVE ETT SO MUCH!"
[Representative Image: A picture taken the day we brought Zelda home.]
Immediately, I panicked, because chocolate is poisonous to dogs. I rang the vet, and one of the many awesome vet techs there assured me that even with the amount she ate, its being milk chocolate and Zelda being 40 pounds means that the absolute worst that will happen is a case of the butt-squirts. (I'm paraphrasing.)
My panic gave way to relief, which gave way to I'M GOING TO MURDER THAT DOG FOR EATING MY AERO BAR! (Not really.) I told Zelda she had worried me and asked her kindly to please not eat anymore chocolate bars. By which I mean, I made a mental note not to leave any more chocolate bars within Zel's reach.
[Representative Image: Despite appearing to hang her head in shame,
Zelda was actually, at the time this picture was taken, staring at an ant.]
Meanwhile, Dudley surveyed the goings-on with a smug self-satisfaction that betrayed his attempts to convey disinterest.
"I'm the GOOD dog, you know."
I know, Dudley. I know.
A few minutes ago, I walked into the living room and the EMPTY WRAPPER WAS ON THE FLOOR!!! I turned around to see Zelda looking at me with a wagging tail and a grin on her face that seemed to say, "O HAI! I discovered chocolate! It is very tasty! I LOOOOOOOVE ETT! I LOVE ETT SO MUCH!"
[Representative Image: A picture taken the day we brought Zelda home.]
Immediately, I panicked, because chocolate is poisonous to dogs. I rang the vet, and one of the many awesome vet techs there assured me that even with the amount she ate, its being milk chocolate and Zelda being 40 pounds means that the absolute worst that will happen is a case of the butt-squirts. (I'm paraphrasing.)
My panic gave way to relief, which gave way to I'M GOING TO MURDER THAT DOG FOR EATING MY AERO BAR! (Not really.) I told Zelda she had worried me and asked her kindly to please not eat anymore chocolate bars. By which I mean, I made a mental note not to leave any more chocolate bars within Zel's reach.
[Representative Image: Despite appearing to hang her head in shame,
Zelda was actually, at the time this picture was taken, staring at an ant.]
Meanwhile, Dudley surveyed the goings-on with a smug self-satisfaction that betrayed his attempts to convey disinterest.
"I'm the GOOD dog, you know."
I know, Dudley. I know.
Today in Christian Supremacy
A municipal judge in southern Alabama is giving folks who commit misdemeanors a choice: either go to church, or go to jail. According to WKRG TV:
According to WKRG,
The city judge will either let offenders work off their sentences in jail and pay a fine or go to church every Sunday for a year.First of all, electing to not worship will land you in jail (despite, I might add, having only being convicted of a misdemeanor). Second, to elaborate on one comment on the original story, "every Sunday" and "the pastor" don't appear to be inclusive of religious folks who happen to not share the judge's particular Christian faith.
If offenders elect church, they're allowed to pick the place of worship, but must check in weekly with the pastor and the police department.
According to WKRG,
[Bay Minette Police Chief Mike] Rowland says the program is legal and doesn't violate separation of church and state issues because it allows the offender to choose church or jail...and the church of their choice.Of course, not church is not a choice. I suppose jail (:cough: for a misdemeanor) is choice, in a way. You know, 'go to church every Sunday or go to jail.' It kinda has a Spanish Inquisition vibe to it, when you think about it.
Friday Blogaround
This blogaround brought to you by a chubbly white cat who keeps knocking things on the floor in search of the most ridiculously awkward napping space possible.
Recommended Reading:
chrisdonia: Mysterious Paper Sculptures
Shark-fu: [TW for murder] 100 Years of the Mob
Brad: [TW for murder] Georgia Parole Board's Decisions on Troy Davis vs. Samuel Crowe Cases Almost Like Black and White
Katharhynn: [TW for fat hatred and body policing] First They Came for Your Fat Kids...
Tim: Weekly Standard on GOP Debate: "Yikes"
Fannie: New Word of the Day: "Same-Sex Enthusiast"
Epic Ponyz: Note to Police
Leave your links and recommendations in comments...
Recommended Reading:
chrisdonia: Mysterious Paper Sculptures
Shark-fu: [TW for murder] 100 Years of the Mob
Brad: [TW for murder] Georgia Parole Board's Decisions on Troy Davis vs. Samuel Crowe Cases Almost Like Black and White
Katharhynn: [TW for fat hatred and body policing] First They Came for Your Fat Kids...
Tim: Weekly Standard on GOP Debate: "Yikes"
Fannie: New Word of the Day: "Same-Sex Enthusiast"
Epic Ponyz: Note to Police
Leave your links and recommendations in comments...
Recommended Reading
The Hidden Hands in Redistricting: Corporations and Other Powerful Interests:
Their names suggest selfless dedication to democracy. Fair Districts Mass. Protect Your Vote. The Center for a Better New Jersey. And their stated goals are unarguable: In the partisan fight to redraw congressional districts, states should stick to the principle of one person, one vote.Read the whole thing here.
But a ProPublica investigation has found that these groups and others are being quietly bankrolled by corporations, unions and other special interests. Their main interest in the once-a-decade political fight over redistricting is not to help voters in the communities they claim to represent but mainly to improve the prospects of their political allies or to harm their enemies.
The number of these purportedly independent redistricting groups is rising, but their ties remain murky. Contributions to such groups are not limited by campaign finance laws, and most states allow them to take unlimited amounts of money without disclosing the source.
Want to Get a Gander at My Garbage Governor?
Welp, here ya go: Republican Indiana Governor Mitch "The Blade" Daniels was on The Daily Show last night (thanks for the heads-up, Shaker Sarah), and he spoke with Jon "Both Sides Are Stupid and I Am the Perfect Center" Stewart about how the Republican Party's rhetoric is definitely terrible, mostly because it's too honest about how terrible their policies are.
Once again, I'll note that the reason Daniels is so scary is because he has the capacity to sound so reasonable, even though his politics are just as extreme as Rick Perry's. He talks a good game about how he cares about the social safety net and providing access and opportunity to poor folks, but he was the first governor in the nation to sign a bill defunding Planned Parenthood. And he can brag about "growth" in Indiana all he wants, but the fact remains that our infrastructure is crumbling to pieces. He is a snake. And we are in real trouble if he changes his mind about running in 2012.
Anyway, here he is. (My apologies for not providing a transcript: If anyone can locate a transcript of the episode, please drop a link in comments. If there's anyone able and willing to provide a transcript, please let me know in comments.)
Once again, I'll note that the reason Daniels is so scary is because he has the capacity to sound so reasonable, even though his politics are just as extreme as Rick Perry's. He talks a good game about how he cares about the social safety net and providing access and opportunity to poor folks, but he was the first governor in the nation to sign a bill defunding Planned Parenthood. And he can brag about "growth" in Indiana all he wants, but the fact remains that our infrastructure is crumbling to pieces. He is a snake. And we are in real trouble if he changes his mind about running in 2012.
Anyway, here he is. (My apologies for not providing a transcript: If anyone can locate a transcript of the episode, please drop a link in comments. If there's anyone able and willing to provide a transcript, please let me know in comments.)
Because Chicken Fried Steak Doesn't Grow on Trees
This morning, NPR is reporting that at the request of a state legislator, Texas will no longer honor the tradition of giving inmates their choice of a last meal before they are executed.
I believe somewhere near the back of the Bible, Jesus's son (Chip Christ), told the Israelites "If you're gonna kill a man, don't go being all polite about it."
I believe somewhere near the back of the Bible, Jesus's son (Chip Christ), told the Israelites "If you're gonna kill a man, don't go being all polite about it."
Obama Campaign Office Vandalized
Obama's Westside campaign office vandalized: "Los Angeles police were investigating a Thursday night incident in which someone shot BB-gun pellets and threw an object into President Obama's Westside campaign office, authorities said. ... The incident comes days before the president is due to visit Los Angeles [for fundraising events]."
Fortunately, no one was there at the time and no one was injured. Just some shattered glass. Oh, and the ominously threatening message that we might call terrorism if we didn't reserve that for other people.
I guess it's because of our liberal media who's totally in the bag for Obama that I have barely heard a peep about this. Huh.
Fortunately, no one was there at the time and no one was injured. Just some shattered glass. Oh, and the ominously threatening message that we might call terrorism if we didn't reserve that for other people.
I guess it's because of our liberal media who's totally in the bag for Obama that I have barely heard a peep about this. Huh.
Don't Bother Grading Those Physics Exams
Grab your towels, yo. A clique of European scientists think they've measured sub-atomic particles moving faster than the speed of light.
Obviously, physicists throughout the world are wetting themselves in terror, disbelief, and complete and total skepticism. Probably, some body or some thing fucked this up. Besides, everybody knows CERN's accelerators are total party accelerators.
If this is a real deal and not just some Antonio guy messing with us, then Einstein's view of the universe (ahem, our version of the universe) will come crashing down like so many baby carriages down the Odessa Steps. (Obviously, now that Einstein's just some dude with a broken theory, I get him confused with Sergei Eisenstein, just like I confuse Wayne and Issac Newton.)
Dodgeball in the future is gonna be fucking intense. I plan on going there in my time machine to check it out. Well, that assumes that future president Calvin Coolidge doesn't fuck with my TARDIS.
Obviously, physicists throughout the world are wetting themselves in terror, disbelief, and complete and total skepticism. Probably, some body or some thing fucked this up. Besides, everybody knows CERN's accelerators are total party accelerators.
If this is a real deal and not just some Antonio guy messing with us, then Einstein's view of the universe (ahem, our version of the universe) will come crashing down like so many baby carriages down the Odessa Steps. (Obviously, now that Einstein's just some dude with a broken theory, I get him confused with Sergei Eisenstein, just like I confuse Wayne and Issac Newton.)
Dodgeball in the future is gonna be fucking intense. I plan on going there in my time machine to check it out. Well, that assumes that future president Calvin Coolidge doesn't fuck with my TARDIS.
Number of the Day
480%: The percentage by which "the income of the very rich, the top 100th of 1 percent of the income distribution" in the US grew between 1979 and 2005. Meanwhile, "between 1979 and 2005 the inflation-adjusted income of families in the middle of the income distribution rose 21 percent."
480% vs. 21%.
That is what real class warfare looks like.
480% vs. 21%.
That is what real class warfare looks like.
So the GOP Had a Debate Last Night
You can read some shit about that here, among ten billion other places.
I'm sure there's an official transcript in existence that I can't be arsed to locate, but here is my totally accurate paraphrase of the debate: Blah blah blah taxes blah blah blah Ronald Reagan blah blah blah gay soldiers are stupid blah blah blah tax cuts blah blah blah bootstraps blah blah blah illegals blah blah blah Social Security is a ponzi scheme blab blah blah terrorism blah blah blah Jesus blah freedom blah taxes blah life blah tax cuts blah Reagan blah business blah Americans blah America blah country blah taxes blah fart. The End.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Question of the Day
[We've done this one before, but it's one of my favorites, so I'm doing it again…]
Who would play you in Shakesville: The Movie?
Looks-wise, the obvious choice is Dawn French, to whom I am nearly identical in height and weight, and probably not dissimilar in temperament. She's 17 years older than I, but I won't complain if she won't.
Who would play you in Shakesville: The Movie?
Looks-wise, the obvious choice is Dawn French, to whom I am nearly identical in height and weight, and probably not dissimilar in temperament. She's 17 years older than I, but I won't complain if she won't.
Number of the Day
Zero: The number of countries in existence that have succeeded with a Tea Party model, as observed quite rightly by former President Bill Clinton.
You know, there's not a single solitary example on the planet, not one, of a country that is successful because the economy has triumphed over the government and choked it off and driven the tax rates to zero, driven the regulations to nonexistent and abolished all government programs, except for defense, so people in my income group never have to pay a nickel to see a cow jump over the moon. There is no example example of a successful country that looks like that.Yup.
Dueling Quotes of the Day
"4:59 pm: It's a minute to show time, and I find my seat in the second row (right behind the cast of 30 Rock!) The seat filler before me was sweaty … so my chair was wet. Gross!"—Professional Barf Gwyneth Paltrow, in her "Emmys Scrapbook," from the latest edition of her insufferable newsletter GOOP—a revoltingly indulgent project in which she explains to the average peasant how very easy it is to be beautiful, fashionable, cultured, thin, and healthy, if only you put in a little effort, geez.
"That IS gross. But so are you for complaining about it. Just let it go, you're at the fucking Emmys in a million dollars worth of borrowed jewelry after a night in France for a friend's birthday dinner. Someone else has a human body. Fucking get over it."—Gabe, who has approximately as much contempt for Gwyneth's abundant disgorgements of privilege as I do, fisking her "Emmys Scrapbook" in his inimitable style.
"That IS gross. But so are you for complaining about it. Just let it go, you're at the fucking Emmys in a million dollars worth of borrowed jewelry after a night in France for a friend's birthday dinner. Someone else has a human body. Fucking get over it."—Gabe, who has approximately as much contempt for Gwyneth's abundant disgorgements of privilege as I do, fisking her "Emmys Scrapbook" in his inimitable style.
Insured While Fat
by Shaker MaryAnn
[Trigger warning for fat hatred, body policing, disordered eating, and ableism.]
Attaining decent health care is no easy feat. Most of us know this, whether we have been denied coverage because of "pre-existing conditions," are forced to pay ridiculously high co-pays, or are simply unable to access care at all. I recently experienced a new, unexpected obstacle when it comes to accessing health care: The insurance plan offered by my employer through Blue Care Network of Michigan, requires that I enroll in a "weight management plan" in order to receive premium insurance. I am 5'4" and weigh 244 pounds. Anyone with a BMI over 30 must enroll.
So, this leaves me with a few choices (if you can even call them that): 1. I wear a pedometer and step a certain amount of strides every three months or I enroll in Weight Watchers and attend meetings once a week. 2. Choose the substandard plan, which has high premiums and co-pays and is barely worth the paper it is printed on. 3. I pay a boat-load of money for the "Cadillac plan." It offers relatively good care, but also with high, high co-pays and high, high associated costs. I work as a medical assistant. The last option would require that I give up half of my paycheck every two weeks. So that's out.
What did I opt for—my dignity or decent coverage? I tossed my dignity right out the window and opted to wear the pedometer. I am pretty active, so I easily walk the required amount, but that misses the point. People who are fat and not active—whether by choice or disability—deserve care, for one. And every time I put the pedometer on me, I am reminded that I am a fatty who does not deserve care unless I am always striving to be something that I am not. I am reminded of my past; I think about days spent throwing up everything I ate and counting calories until my head spun. I am reminded that the majority of people in this country think I am disgusting, worthless, and deserve to get sick and die. (This, too, is eliminationism.) Every time I touch that pedometer, that's exactly where my mind takes me. I cannot help but think this was part of the intention.
This particular insurance plan is cheap for my employer. I get it. Times are tough and money is tight. So Blue Cross offers a plan that is cheaper for big companies but punishes certain types of people for certain types of things. I have a dear friend and co-worker is a proud junk-food aficionado, not terribly active, and weighs 110 pounds. This insurance plan works wonders for her. She is all set. Folks with a BMI over 30, those with depression, and/or people who smoke are all required to jump through the hoops in order to access this care. So I jump. (Also: Why are we equating smoking, fat, and depression? So many issues here.)
It took me about three months to find a physician that would accept me as a new patient. I tried to make appointments with doctors who were recommended to me as fat-friendly, but I was unable to see any of them. Why? Because, within the first three months of Blue Care Network enrollment, enrollees must complete a "health assessment" and subsequently have a physician fill out a qualification form. I would have missed this deadline if I had made an appointment with my preferred physician. Most offices I called had a two- or three-month waiting list.
The online assessment took about an hour and asked me all kinds of questions about my lifestyle and ostensibly about my health. Did they want to know that I have terrible allergies? How about my intolerance to gluten and the severe reaction I have when I eat it? Nope. They wanted to know how much I am going to cost them. They asked me about my weight, if I was a suicidal drug user, and about my tobacco intake. They asked about my eating habits and activity level. These companies do not care about health. They tell us, over and over, how they care about wellness and preventive care. They care about money. That's it. End of story.
Luckily, when I went to see the physician, she was sympathetic about the hoop jumping and filled my form out quickly and easily. I then received emails and letters telling me YOUR BMI IS SO HIGH YOU ARE GOING TO DIE TOMORROW (paraphrased) and that I needed to select a pedometer or Weight Watchers. Truly, the thought of weekly attending meetings that would feel self-hating to me made my blood pressure and anxiety go through the roof. So I wear my pedometer everywhere I go.
And everywhere I go, I am reminded that I am viewed as a burden. I am reminded that, until I change, I am not worthy of decent health care. I am reminded that I am hated.
Of course, I know this already. I see it everywhere I go. Most fat folks do.
I see it on the faces of the people I try to push past in the restaurant, but my fat makes it harder to get through. I am reminded when I barely fit into airplane seats. I am reminded at the hospital, when the doctors and nurses give me glances containing equal parts disgust and pity.
Yes, it is just a pedometer. No, it is not a huge ordeal to attain my allotted steps. But every time I tuck that little pedometer into my bra or clip it to my pants, I am reminded of how much anger, pity, and disgust society has for me and folks like me. As if it were difficult to forget.
[Trigger warning for fat hatred, body policing, disordered eating, and ableism.]
Attaining decent health care is no easy feat. Most of us know this, whether we have been denied coverage because of "pre-existing conditions," are forced to pay ridiculously high co-pays, or are simply unable to access care at all. I recently experienced a new, unexpected obstacle when it comes to accessing health care: The insurance plan offered by my employer through Blue Care Network of Michigan, requires that I enroll in a "weight management plan" in order to receive premium insurance. I am 5'4" and weigh 244 pounds. Anyone with a BMI over 30 must enroll.
So, this leaves me with a few choices (if you can even call them that): 1. I wear a pedometer and step a certain amount of strides every three months or I enroll in Weight Watchers and attend meetings once a week. 2. Choose the substandard plan, which has high premiums and co-pays and is barely worth the paper it is printed on. 3. I pay a boat-load of money for the "Cadillac plan." It offers relatively good care, but also with high, high co-pays and high, high associated costs. I work as a medical assistant. The last option would require that I give up half of my paycheck every two weeks. So that's out.
What did I opt for—my dignity or decent coverage? I tossed my dignity right out the window and opted to wear the pedometer. I am pretty active, so I easily walk the required amount, but that misses the point. People who are fat and not active—whether by choice or disability—deserve care, for one. And every time I put the pedometer on me, I am reminded that I am a fatty who does not deserve care unless I am always striving to be something that I am not. I am reminded of my past; I think about days spent throwing up everything I ate and counting calories until my head spun. I am reminded that the majority of people in this country think I am disgusting, worthless, and deserve to get sick and die. (This, too, is eliminationism.) Every time I touch that pedometer, that's exactly where my mind takes me. I cannot help but think this was part of the intention.
This particular insurance plan is cheap for my employer. I get it. Times are tough and money is tight. So Blue Cross offers a plan that is cheaper for big companies but punishes certain types of people for certain types of things. I have a dear friend and co-worker is a proud junk-food aficionado, not terribly active, and weighs 110 pounds. This insurance plan works wonders for her. She is all set. Folks with a BMI over 30, those with depression, and/or people who smoke are all required to jump through the hoops in order to access this care. So I jump. (Also: Why are we equating smoking, fat, and depression? So many issues here.)
It took me about three months to find a physician that would accept me as a new patient. I tried to make appointments with doctors who were recommended to me as fat-friendly, but I was unable to see any of them. Why? Because, within the first three months of Blue Care Network enrollment, enrollees must complete a "health assessment" and subsequently have a physician fill out a qualification form. I would have missed this deadline if I had made an appointment with my preferred physician. Most offices I called had a two- or three-month waiting list.
The online assessment took about an hour and asked me all kinds of questions about my lifestyle and ostensibly about my health. Did they want to know that I have terrible allergies? How about my intolerance to gluten and the severe reaction I have when I eat it? Nope. They wanted to know how much I am going to cost them. They asked me about my weight, if I was a suicidal drug user, and about my tobacco intake. They asked about my eating habits and activity level. These companies do not care about health. They tell us, over and over, how they care about wellness and preventive care. They care about money. That's it. End of story.
Luckily, when I went to see the physician, she was sympathetic about the hoop jumping and filled my form out quickly and easily. I then received emails and letters telling me YOUR BMI IS SO HIGH YOU ARE GOING TO DIE TOMORROW (paraphrased) and that I needed to select a pedometer or Weight Watchers. Truly, the thought of weekly attending meetings that would feel self-hating to me made my blood pressure and anxiety go through the roof. So I wear my pedometer everywhere I go.
And everywhere I go, I am reminded that I am viewed as a burden. I am reminded that, until I change, I am not worthy of decent health care. I am reminded that I am hated.
Of course, I know this already. I see it everywhere I go. Most fat folks do.
I see it on the faces of the people I try to push past in the restaurant, but my fat makes it harder to get through. I am reminded when I barely fit into airplane seats. I am reminded at the hospital, when the doctors and nurses give me glances containing equal parts disgust and pity.
Yes, it is just a pedometer. No, it is not a huge ordeal to attain my allotted steps. But every time I tuck that little pedometer into my bra or clip it to my pants, I am reminded of how much anger, pity, and disgust society has for me and folks like me. As if it were difficult to forget.
Introducing the Shakesville Complaint Line!
Do you think Shakesville is the worst blog ever? Do you think Melissa McEwan is the most terrible person alive? Do you hate feminists? Sure, we all do! That's why we've instituted the Shakesville Complaint Line, at which you can leave all your complaints!
641-715-3900 x 44515 Long distance rates may apply!
Do you have an accusation of bad faith that cannot be fully realized in all its hostile glory on a computer screen? Can you not believe this is happening at Shakesville, of all places? Would you like to explain to us in infinitesimal detail how the commenting rules don't apply to you?
641-715-3900 x 44515 Long distance rates may apply!
Are you a troll who's been banned? A disgruntled emailer who fears Liss may never have received your email calling her a fat cunt? An MRA who's run out of outlets to express your impotent rage at a world that hasn't delivered on its promise to provide you with subservient women?
641-715-3900 x 44515 Long distance rates may apply!
Are you a totes sardonic smart-ass who wants to leave us a hilarious faux complaint?
641-715-3900 x 44515 Long distance rates may apply!
We would LOVE to hear your complaint! We love complaints SO MUCH that your complaint may end up on the blog, so please don't leave anything in your complaint that you wouldn't want shared with everyone else who almost certainly shares your complaint! Your continued complaining is valuable to us! Thank you for your complaint, and have a nice day!
641-715-3900 x 44515 Long distance rates may apply!
Do you have an accusation of bad faith that cannot be fully realized in all its hostile glory on a computer screen? Can you not believe this is happening at Shakesville, of all places? Would you like to explain to us in infinitesimal detail how the commenting rules don't apply to you?
641-715-3900 x 44515 Long distance rates may apply!
Are you a troll who's been banned? A disgruntled emailer who fears Liss may never have received your email calling her a fat cunt? An MRA who's run out of outlets to express your impotent rage at a world that hasn't delivered on its promise to provide you with subservient women?
641-715-3900 x 44515 Long distance rates may apply!
Are you a totes sardonic smart-ass who wants to leave us a hilarious faux complaint?
641-715-3900 x 44515 Long distance rates may apply!
We would LOVE to hear your complaint! We love complaints SO MUCH that your complaint may end up on the blog, so please don't leave anything in your complaint that you wouldn't want shared with everyone else who almost certainly shares your complaint! Your continued complaining is valuable to us! Thank you for your complaint, and have a nice day!
A Brief History of James Franco's Dramatic Whispering
[Video Description: A montage of scenes from various films and TV shows in which James Franco is delivering his lines in a dramatic whisper.]
Because James Franco, no doy.
[Via.]
SparksTV
I'm sure there are people reading this post who love Nicholas Sparks, because he is very popular! He has written something like 10,000 novels—which are not "romance novels," even though they are about romance, because he is a dude, and therefore he a novelist who writes about romance and not a romance novelist, no doy—and they have sold about 30 trillion copies apiece and they have all been made into films starring famous attractive white people, each of which has made like 100 nonillion dollars at the box office. Like I said, he's very popular!
Which means there are almost certainly people reading this post who love him, or his books, or the movies they've made of his books, and to those of you in that category, I am sorry for hating Nicholas Sparks SO MUCH. I really hate him and all his stupid stories and how he is treated very differently from ladies who write about romance because he is dudely, which really isn't his fault but I think he likes the taste of those cookies, if you know what I mean.
Please understand I don't judge anyone for liking Nicholas Sparks because literature and film and the stories we like are very subjective things! And even if it could be objectively determined that his stories are terrible, I like lots of things that are pretty widely regarded as garbage myself, so TO EACH HIR OWN, I say! (I definitely said that first, right? Probably.)
Anyway! You go on with your mad love for Nicholas Sparks, and don't let the fact that I HATE HIM WITH THE FIERY PASSION OF 10,000 SUNS make you feel impugned or cajoled into changing your opinion. I know this is a very long preamble, but I really just hate him A LOT!
Thing is, if you love him as much as I hate him, consider this post GOOD NEWS, because this will definitely be your favorite show:
I hope that they castNicholas Cage Bruno Ganz as the angel looking for his moral love and Meg Ryan Solveig Dommartin as his mortal love and then they rename this project City of Angels Wings of Desire.
FREE TIP, HOLLYWOOD!
(That's what the angel looking for his mortal love said.)
Which means there are almost certainly people reading this post who love him, or his books, or the movies they've made of his books, and to those of you in that category, I am sorry for hating Nicholas Sparks SO MUCH. I really hate him and all his stupid stories and how he is treated very differently from ladies who write about romance because he is dudely, which really isn't his fault but I think he likes the taste of those cookies, if you know what I mean.
Please understand I don't judge anyone for liking Nicholas Sparks because literature and film and the stories we like are very subjective things! And even if it could be objectively determined that his stories are terrible, I like lots of things that are pretty widely regarded as garbage myself, so TO EACH HIR OWN, I say! (I definitely said that first, right? Probably.)
Anyway! You go on with your mad love for Nicholas Sparks, and don't let the fact that I HATE HIM WITH THE FIERY PASSION OF 10,000 SUNS make you feel impugned or cajoled into changing your opinion. I know this is a very long preamble, but I really just hate him A LOT!
Thing is, if you love him as much as I hate him, consider this post GOOD NEWS, because this will definitely be your favorite show:
Nicholas Sparks is making his first foray into TV writing. The bestselling novelist, whose books have spawned several hit feature films, has sold an original story idea to ABC for a drama series that will be produced by ABC Studios and Twilight producer Temple Hill. The drama, titled The Watchers, tells the story of a fallen angel looking for his mortal love."Who HASN'T always wanted to create a smart, unconventional show about angels on Earth?"—Michael Landon. RIP Michael Landon.
..."I've always wanted to create a smart, unconventional show about angels on Earth, and ABC is the perfect home for this kind of imaginative, character-driven drama," said Sparks
I hope that they cast
FREE TIP, HOLLYWOOD!
(That's what the angel looking for his mortal love said.)
Ugh
[Trigger warning for body policing, fat hatred, and ableism.]
Linked from the front page of CNN: "Smart ways to keep your marriage healthy."
Number One on their list: "Watch your waistline." Seriously.
And lest anyone misunderstand that the entire piece is about staying physically healthy while married, the second item is "Have a financial plan." It's about how to avoid conflict and unhappiness, basically. Don't let your spouse get fat because zie might get sick or unfuckable which is a real marriage-ruiner! Ugh.
So. Gross.
Linked from the front page of CNN: "Smart ways to keep your marriage healthy."
Number One on their list: "Watch your waistline." Seriously.
1. Watch your waistlineThere is a lot about this to hate, including the usual axiomatic conflation of "fat" with "sick," but the suggestion that I would (or should) love my partner less because he was diagnosed with diabetes during the course of our marriage is absolutely sickening.
Now that you're married, you can finally relax and skip the gym, right? Wrong. Wedded couples tend to have fatter waistlines, which can spell trouble in terms of sexual attraction and general health.
A 2007 study published in the New England Journal of Medicine found that your chances of becoming obese increase by 37% if your spouse becomes obese. So unless you want "till death do us part" to include chronic health issues like heart disease and diabetes, it's important to establish healthy eating habits early on.
And lest anyone misunderstand that the entire piece is about staying physically healthy while married, the second item is "Have a financial plan." It's about how to avoid conflict and unhappiness, basically. Don't let your spouse get fat because zie might get sick or unfuckable which is a real marriage-ruiner! Ugh.
So. Gross.
Top Chef: Just Desserts Open Thread
The ghost of Richard Blais returns and possesses Katzie to do some bullshit with nitrous oxide. You know this is a baking show, right, not a freezing show?
Last night's episode will be discussed in detail, so if you haven't seen it, and don't want any spoilers, pack your nitro-burning funny car and go...
Swell
From the Wall Street Journal article, "Stingray Phone Tracker Fuels Constitutional Clash": "Stingrays are one of several new technologies used by law enforcement to track people's locations, often without a search warrant."
Funny how the more we wage wars for "freedom," the less freedom we seem to have.
Welcome to your police state.
Read the whole thing here.
Funny how the more we wage wars for "freedom," the less freedom we seem to have.
Welcome to your police state.
Read the whole thing here.
On the Executions of Troy Davis and Lawrence Russell Brewer
by Shaker checarina
[Trigger warning for racism, violence, murder, state-sanctioned execution.]
Like many of you, last night I was glued to Democracy Now!'s live coverage of Troy Davis' execution for nearly six hours—from 6pm, an hour before he was scheduled to die, to a few minutes from midnight, as they closed with a slideshow of pictures from Troy's life and Billie Holliday's haunting voice singing "Strange Fruit".
While I was watching, another news story surfaced briefly: at the same time as Troy Davis was scheduled to die, another man, Lawrence Russell Brewer, was executed in Texas. Brewer, a white supremacist, was killed for his role in the 1998 murder of James Byrd, Jr., a black man, in Jasper, Texas. Brewer and two other men abducted Byrd as he walked along a Jasper road, beat him, urinated on him, and then chained him to the back of a pickup truck and dragged him for nearly two miles until Byrd's head and right arm were torn off.
The day before he was executed, Brewer is reported to have said: "As far as any regrets, no, I have no regrets. No, I'd do it all over again, to tell you the truth."
On the internet last night, there were people who took the fact that relatively few people were protesting Brewer's execution, even as the eyes of the world were fixed on Troy Davis, as evidence that anyone would surely agree Brewer really deserved to die, or that anti-death penalty advocates protesting the execution of Davis were all hypocrites, or (ridiculously) that the libruhl media (as represented almost exclusively by Amy Goodman of Democracy Now!, for six straight hours) only cares about a black man's being killed.
It should go without saying—though perhaps it doesn't—that I oppose Brewer's execution and find no joy in his death. I find it difficult to feel a great deal of sorrow about his death, but I interpret this as a failure of empathy on my part, not as any proof that he deserved to die. There's also the fact that I didn't have much investment in his execution because I didn't know about it beforehand. It's not surprising that I didn't know Brewer was to be executed—it is, after all, something that is distressingly commonplace and doesn't usually receive a lot of attention relative to the enormity of what it represents.
What's rather remarkable is that I did know about Troy Davis' case, that so many people across the nation and across the globe were mobilized in support of justice for a man who was designed to be as disposable and disappearable as possible within the racist US "justice" system. It's truly inspiring, that global movement of people, even as it remains painful that collectively we weren't able to stop this atrocity from happening.
The fact that the Brewer and Davis executions happened to occur on the same day should not distract from the fact that Brewer's execution actually represents an extremely rare concurrence of events, whereas Davis' does not. The odds against a white person being put to death for killing a black person are staggeringly high. According to the ACLU:
I know of few reminders more stark that black lives are simply valued as less than: As victims their murders are deemed less serious and must be of the most heinous nature in order for the government to demand a life in exchange, and as defendants it is not even necessary to prove their guilt beyond a reasonable doubt before taking their lives.
Strange fruit indeed.
[Note from Liss: Support the National Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty here. The NCADP is the US' oldest organization dedicated to the abolition of the death penalty, founded by a group of prominent civil and human rights activists after the Supreme Court's 1976 Gregg v. Georgia decision, which allowed individual states to resume executions. The NCADP believes "that the struggle against the death penalty will be won state by state when good people of all walks of life demand change."]
[Trigger warning for racism, violence, murder, state-sanctioned execution.]
Like many of you, last night I was glued to Democracy Now!'s live coverage of Troy Davis' execution for nearly six hours—from 6pm, an hour before he was scheduled to die, to a few minutes from midnight, as they closed with a slideshow of pictures from Troy's life and Billie Holliday's haunting voice singing "Strange Fruit".
While I was watching, another news story surfaced briefly: at the same time as Troy Davis was scheduled to die, another man, Lawrence Russell Brewer, was executed in Texas. Brewer, a white supremacist, was killed for his role in the 1998 murder of James Byrd, Jr., a black man, in Jasper, Texas. Brewer and two other men abducted Byrd as he walked along a Jasper road, beat him, urinated on him, and then chained him to the back of a pickup truck and dragged him for nearly two miles until Byrd's head and right arm were torn off.
The day before he was executed, Brewer is reported to have said: "As far as any regrets, no, I have no regrets. No, I'd do it all over again, to tell you the truth."
On the internet last night, there were people who took the fact that relatively few people were protesting Brewer's execution, even as the eyes of the world were fixed on Troy Davis, as evidence that anyone would surely agree Brewer really deserved to die, or that anti-death penalty advocates protesting the execution of Davis were all hypocrites, or (ridiculously) that the libruhl media (as represented almost exclusively by Amy Goodman of Democracy Now!, for six straight hours) only cares about a black man's being killed.
It should go without saying—though perhaps it doesn't—that I oppose Brewer's execution and find no joy in his death. I find it difficult to feel a great deal of sorrow about his death, but I interpret this as a failure of empathy on my part, not as any proof that he deserved to die. There's also the fact that I didn't have much investment in his execution because I didn't know about it beforehand. It's not surprising that I didn't know Brewer was to be executed—it is, after all, something that is distressingly commonplace and doesn't usually receive a lot of attention relative to the enormity of what it represents.
What's rather remarkable is that I did know about Troy Davis' case, that so many people across the nation and across the globe were mobilized in support of justice for a man who was designed to be as disposable and disappearable as possible within the racist US "justice" system. It's truly inspiring, that global movement of people, even as it remains painful that collectively we weren't able to stop this atrocity from happening.
The fact that the Brewer and Davis executions happened to occur on the same day should not distract from the fact that Brewer's execution actually represents an extremely rare concurrence of events, whereas Davis' does not. The odds against a white person being put to death for killing a black person are staggeringly high. According to the ACLU:
While white victims account for approximately one-half of all murder victims, 80% of all Capital cases involve white victims. Furthermore, as of October 2002, 12 people have been executed where the defendant was white and the murder victim black, compared with 178 black defendants executed for murders with white victims.As Amnesty International notes, in the U.S., "the single most reliable predictor of whether someone will be sentenced to death is the race of the victim."
I know of few reminders more stark that black lives are simply valued as less than: As victims their murders are deemed less serious and must be of the most heinous nature in order for the government to demand a life in exchange, and as defendants it is not even necessary to prove their guilt beyond a reasonable doubt before taking their lives.
Strange fruit indeed.
[Note from Liss: Support the National Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty here. The NCADP is the US' oldest organization dedicated to the abolition of the death penalty, founded by a group of prominent civil and human rights activists after the Supreme Court's 1976 Gregg v. Georgia decision, which allowed individual states to resume executions. The NCADP believes "that the struggle against the death penalty will be won state by state when good people of all walks of life demand change."]
This Is What a Populist Progressive Looks Like
Here is the clip everyone is talking about of Elizabeth Warren, presumptive Democratic candidate for US Senate in Massachusetts, demonstrating why she is made of win:
Text Onscreen: Elizabeth Warren this past weekend on her "Walking Tour."
Text Onscreen: Elizabeth on the current debt crisis…
Warren, speaking to a room full of people: My favorite part of looking at this hole—we got in this hole one trillion dollars on tax cuts for the rich under George Bush, we got into this hole two trillion dollars on two wars that we put on a credit card for our children and grandchildren to pay off, and we got in this hole one trillion dollars on a Medicare drug program that A. was not paid for and B. is forty percent more expensive than it needs to be because it was a giveaway to the drug companies. So, this is four trillion, right there. [applause] So, part of the way you fix this problem is, like, don't do those things! [laughter and applause]
Text Onscreen: Elizabeth Warren on fair taxation…
I hear all this, you know, "Well, this is class warfare, this is whatever." No. There is nobody in this country who got rich on his own. Nobody. You built a factory out there? Good for you. But I want to be clear: You moved your goods to market on the roads the rest of us paid for; you hired workers the rest of us paid to educate; you were safe in your factory because of police forces and fire forces that the rest of us paid for. You didn't have to worry that marauding bands would come and seize everything at your factory, and hire someone to protect against this, because of the work the rest of us did. Now look, you built a factory and it turned into something terrific, or a great idea—god bless. Keep a big hunk of it. But part of the underlying social contract is you take a hunk of that and pay forward for the next kid who comes along. [applause]
Text Onscreen: Elizabeth Warren this past weekend on her "Walking Tour."
Text Onscreen: Elizabeth on the current debt crisis…
Warren, speaking to a room full of people: My favorite part of looking at this hole—we got in this hole one trillion dollars on tax cuts for the rich under George Bush, we got into this hole two trillion dollars on two wars that we put on a credit card for our children and grandchildren to pay off, and we got in this hole one trillion dollars on a Medicare drug program that A. was not paid for and B. is forty percent more expensive than it needs to be because it was a giveaway to the drug companies. So, this is four trillion, right there. [applause] So, part of the way you fix this problem is, like, don't do those things! [laughter and applause]
Text Onscreen: Elizabeth Warren on fair taxation…
I hear all this, you know, "Well, this is class warfare, this is whatever." No. There is nobody in this country who got rich on his own. Nobody. You built a factory out there? Good for you. But I want to be clear: You moved your goods to market on the roads the rest of us paid for; you hired workers the rest of us paid to educate; you were safe in your factory because of police forces and fire forces that the rest of us paid for. You didn't have to worry that marauding bands would come and seize everything at your factory, and hire someone to protect against this, because of the work the rest of us did. Now look, you built a factory and it turned into something terrific, or a great idea—god bless. Keep a big hunk of it. But part of the underlying social contract is you take a hunk of that and pay forward for the next kid who comes along. [applause]
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Democracy Now!, Broadcasting Live from Georgia at the Troy Davis Death Row Vigil
Watch live streaming video from democracynow at livestream.com
RIP R.E.M.
[Lyrics here.]
"To our Fans and Friends: As R.E.M., and as lifelong friends and co-conspirators, we have decided to call it a day as a band. We walk away with a great sense of gratitude, of finality, and of astonishment at all we have accomplished. To anyone who ever felt touched by our music, our deepest thanks for listening."—R.E.M.
Number of the Day
$50 billion: The combined estimated fortune of "Tea Party petrochemical scions," the Koch Brothers.
How neat for them!
How neat for them!
An Observation
[Trigger warning for state-sanctioned violence.]
Earlier this afternoon, @drgrist tweeted: "Georgia's going to murder an innocent man in a few hours. Feels weird just to have a normal day."
All day, I have been having the same thought.
Concurrently, I have had the thought that a grave injustice being perpetrated by a state government against a person who is very likely innocent is a normal day in this country, whether they have been sentenced to death or merely consigned to facilities plagued by endemic sexual violence.
This is a normal day.
Troy Davis will die on this very normal day.
This observation is not to endorse apathy on this day, but to exhort elevated concern on all others.
Donate to the Innocence Project here.
Donate to Witness to Innocence here.
Please feel welcome and encouraged to suggest other opportunities for teaspooning in comments.
Earlier this afternoon, @drgrist tweeted: "Georgia's going to murder an innocent man in a few hours. Feels weird just to have a normal day."
All day, I have been having the same thought.
Concurrently, I have had the thought that a grave injustice being perpetrated by a state government against a person who is very likely innocent is a normal day in this country, whether they have been sentenced to death or merely consigned to facilities plagued by endemic sexual violence.
This is a normal day.
Troy Davis will die on this very normal day.
This observation is not to endorse apathy on this day, but to exhort elevated concern on all others.
Donate to the Innocence Project here.
Donate to Witness to Innocence here.
Please feel welcome and encouraged to suggest other opportunities for teaspooning in comments.
Butch Goes to the Movies: Mad Max
If there's one thing I know about feminists, it's that they love to get mad about stuff. I've noticed, for example, how much crybabying there is around here about how new movies stink. And for once I agree with you. New movies are a waste of time. That's why I stick to the classics, like Universal Soldier and Universal Soldier: The Return. That's also why I am starting a new feature to tell you about good movies. It's called Butch Goes to the Movies. Except I'm not going to the movies. I'm going down to Denny's Video Dojo and renting this shit.
But today I am not renting anything because I own these on Beta, VHS, laserdisc, DVD, and Blu-Ray. And I am schooling you on not one but three video classics. That's right—I am talking about the greatest trilogy of films in history. Mad Max! Hell yeah! Movies do not get any better than this. Don't believe me? Read up and learn, future Maxologists.
Mad Max
The first movie is about a cop named Mad Max who kicks the asses of a bunch of bikers in the Australian outback. These bikers all have dumb names like Toecutter and Johnny the Boy and crap like that. Basically the bikers are out to get revenge on Max because there was a totally wicked car chase at the start of the movie where the gang's leader named Nightrider was killed. These guys hate the cops who are named Max and Goose and Fifi.
Mad Max is played by Mel Gibson way before he was famous and before he became a world-class douchemonster. Look, Mel, this ain't the Dark Ages: Don't be a racist against Jews (or anyone) and don't assault women. And ONLY call women "sugartits" if you're dating them. Damn, it ain't rocket surgery, Mel. Grow up! Plus, that beaver movie with Clarice Starling looks like shit.
Anyways, the bikers cause all kinds of trouble up and down the Australian countryside, because, unless every biker-related movie since the days of Marlon Brando has been lying to me, that's what bikers do. And eventually the cops arrest Johnny the Boy who the gang doesn't even seem to like very much. But he's got one of those slick lawyers who gets him off (that's what she said) and he goes free. This pisses off Goose who beats up Johnny the Boy.
Later Johnny the Boy gets revenge by cooking Goose's goose which makes the gang like him more. Max freaks out that his best friend is all messed up and he tries to quit the cop force but Fifi tells him to go on vacation and think it over. So Max takes his wife and his kid who is named Sprog to the Oceanside.
Okay, look, at this point, you might be hoping that I will whip out some facts from my brainpan's container of wicked film knowledge and explain what the hell is up with all the weird names in Australia, but I don't know, all right? It's messed up! There's a fact for you. Also, film history fans, notice how Top Gun totally stole the name Goose for their sidekick. Even back then Hollywood was out of good ideas.
Anyways, while on vacation, Max's wife and Sprog (messed up!) go to buy an ice cream cone and run into the biker gang. She smashes her ice cream into Toecutter's face before they can grab her. She barely escapes. But later they track her down and kill both her and Sprog. Max totally loses it. I guess this is where he becomes Mad. He's more than mad. But I guess they couldn't call the movie Totally Fucking Pissed Off Max. I would have if it was my movie. But I guess that's why I'm not in Hollywood. Or whatever the Australian version of Hollywood is. Melbourne?
Max decides to stay a cop and chases Toecutter and Johnny the Boy into the Forbidden Zone. I guess some nuclear shit happened in Australia in this movie. One by one Mad Max kills the bikers and that's pretty much the end. There are some awesome car crashes and great chases. Not a flawless film, because things in the middle get slow. Like who needs to see all that romantic shit in the middle with Max and his wife on vacation? This ain't When Harry Met Kangaroo Sally, Mate.
The Road Warrior
Okay, let me just say, this is the best one of the series obviously because this is the best movie ever made. Mad Max is still in the future and more nuclear shit has gone down. Like all the way down. Everything is fucked up, there is no civilization. It's total chaos, like free-skate used to be on Thursday nights out at the old Skate-and-Skeet. The only good thing about that is that it's where I took Tammy on our first date. You should see the powder-blue jumpsuit I used to wear to free-skate, which had a fuckin' rollerskate done in fuckin' glitter on the back, man. Good times. They tore down the Skate-and-Skeet years ago, though. I bawled when that happened, man.
Anyways, no one has gas in the future. No one has bullets either. And even though it's the middle of the desert, everyone is wearing leather. Hey, I'm no femifart sociologist here, just a red-blooded film buff, but it is strongly implied that the bad guys in this film are total queers. Man, I suppose I'm getting soft in my old age, but even old Butch has been to a gay wedding (that's a whole 'nother post, brother), and treating queers like they're freakos (in a bad way) is the one thing that kind of dates this film. I guess that was just the '80s for you.
Which is really weird, when you think about it, because everyone looked like a bunch of queerbaits in the '80s. I think every guy I knew was technically gay for a period of about three years, until we found out all the members of Duran Duran were dudes.
Anyways, Max is no longer a cop because there are no more cops now because there is no more society. Just gangs who fight each other for gasoline I guess so they can drive around looking for more gasoline. Talk about some serious social commentary on our dependence on fossil fuels. That's what makes this movie so good. Ha ha! Just kidding. What makes this movie so good is the fucking car chases. No shit.
The movie starts with an awesome car chase and shootout between Max and his dog named Dog versus some bikers in mohawks and leather chaps. Max has a new enemy named Wez. He's a major league freako and would probably read Shakesville if they had the internet and blogs and shit in this movie. I'm kidding. The guy is a total fascist. He'd read Andrew Breitbart.
So Max makes enemies of the bikers and befriends a guy named Gyro who has a little helicopter. Gyro takes Max to a refinery that the biker gang is trying to invade. Inside the refinery are the good guys (you can tell because they all wear white and have blonde hair). The bikers are led by Lord Humungus who was really a pro wrestler. I think he even provided his own costume.
Then Max saves some of the good guys and gets inside the refinery and offers to help them in exchange for some gasoline. The good guys are named Pappagallo and Warrior Woman and the Feral Kid who is a feral kid. Let me just say this little guy is the toughest kid in movies ever. He doesn't speak he just grunts and he has a fox tail sewn to his butt and he throws a super-deadly boomerang. I am pretty sure if he wanted to, he could have killed Mad Max, too, and Mad Max is the toughest man in movies so that is really saying something.
Anyways, Mad Max and Pappagallo work out a plan to leave the refinery with as much gas as they can so they can get to the beach and restart civilization. But they'll need a diesel truck to do that. And Mad Max knows where to find one. So he has to sneak out then come back with a truck, which is not so easy since the place is surrounded by Wez and Humungus and all the bikers. (Hey, I wonder if any of these bikers were in the other gang in the first movie. Wouldn't that be a trip?) But shit like this is just a walkabout in the park for Mad Max.
And then the real shit happens: The world's greatest chase scene ever filmed ever. This is why God gave us celluloid. It's 100% bad-ass. There are like a thousand bad guys vs. Mad Max in his diesel tanker truck. And guess who wins? That's right. It ain't a spoiler to say Mad Max kicks everyone's ass. If you want to see some of it, click here. It's violent as hell, because Mad Max doesn't take no shit.
And surprise surprise (these are spoilers) there is even a twist ending. There's no gasoline in Mad Max's truck. In your face, biker gang! While Mad Max was leading the bikers all across the Outback (man, now I want a Bloomin' Onion) the good guys were sneaking out the back door with all the gas. And then they blew up the refinery which is the biggest explosion in the history of film, seriously. In your face again, biker gang!
At the very end, the good guys head into the sunset leaving Mad Max behind. He's a lone wolf. Like old Butch.
(Except for when I'm dating, engaged, and/or married to Tammy.)
Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome
Note: "Thunderdome" keeps coming up in spell check. How is that possible? This is a real word now, Harvard dictionary eggheads. Get on that, okay?
Now it's way farther in the future and there is no more gas. None! At least not in Australia. Mad Max's car is being pulled by camels. Camels! What the heck, man? Yeah, and he is hella old too. He has long hair like he's Kip Winger or something now. He also has a pet monkey.
So some dude in a plane who is played by the same guy who was Gyro in the last movie but is a different character now which is kind of confusing flies by and kicks Mad Max in the head and knocks him in the sand and steals his camel wagon. Damn! You know this shit won't stand, right? Right.
And because that monkey is clever he starts flinging things out of this wagon leaving a trail all the way to Bartertown. Bartertown: Home of Thunderdome. Ah, yeah! Bartertown is a town in the desert where people trade shit. Like if I had a shitload of illegal fireworks in my garage and wanted to trade them for a couple bags of good weed or an outboard motor or something, I'd go to Bartertown.
Which, come to think of it, kind of makes my garage like Barterton. Which makes it a lot cooler, actually. Imma Lillian Vernon "Bartertown" onto some shit and hang it up in the garage.
But Bartertown sucks shit for Max, because his ass has nothing to trade. Thanks, used-to-be-Gyro dude! Anyway, the guy at Bartertown's gate looks at Mad Max and can tell what a badass he is and has him escorted inside. To Tina Turner's apartment! "You better be good to me, Mad Max!" Ha! I crack myself up. First off, Tina Turner should be in more movies. Secondly, her name is Aunty Entity, and I don't even know what that is supposed to mean.
Aunty offers Mad Max an apple and then all hell breaks loose. Like twenty dudes in mohawks jump out and try to beat the shit out of Max. Hey, dumbasses! That's Mad Max! You can't kick his ass! You shouldn't even try. Dude! Yeah, Max pounds them all. And then Aunty congratulates him and tells him she has a job for him. Turns out this was all an audition for Max to kick some ass in Thunderdome. Yes! Thunderdome.
Here's the deal: Bartertown runs on methane which comes from a pig farm under Bartertown. The pig farm is run by Master Blaster, who's an asshole. And Master Blaster is actually two people. Blaster is a big guy and Master is a little dude who rides around on his back. They like to have embargoes and turn off the electricity to Bartertown which makes Aunty look like an asshole. So she wants Max to kill Blaster.
But since Aunty is all trying to build a society with laws and shit, she can't just have him assassinated. Max has to pick a fight and they'll have to duel it out in Thunderdome. So Max gets a job shoveling pig shit and it turns out his monkey is down there and so is his car. Max demands his car back and Blaster tries to snap his neck but then Aunty's guards come out and stop him. If there's a dispute, they have to settle it in Thunderdome. Hell yeah!
Here's the rule of Thunderdome: Two men enter, one man leaves. That's it! To the death! Thunderdome is a geodesic dome cage thing. With chainsaws and axes and swords and shit inside. And bungees. Yes! Bungees! Mad Max and Blaster are attached to bungees and they have chainsaws and they battle it out! Hell yeah! Blaster is like twice as big as Max and almost beats him but Max comes out victorious. It's a pretty awesome fight. You can watch it here.
But at the end of the fight, Max figures out Blaster is just a guy with a disability and doesn't even know what he's doing so he refuses to kill him. But then one of Aunty's henchman, a weirdo named Ironbar (and seriously Mad Max, your character names are ridiculous), kills the guy anyway. Then Aunty gets pissed and since Max broke the deal he has to face the wheel. Yeah, it rhymes because it's Tina Turner and she likes shit that rhymes. And basically Mad Max gets banished. They tie him up and put him on a horse and send him into the desert.
Then things get weird.
Days later Max wakes up on a canyon oasis surround by little kids. What? Yeah, I told you: Weird. These kids are all wearing loincloths and have tans and crazy hair and they think Mad Max is a plane captain that has come to save them all and take them back to civilization. I know, right? It turns out a big plane crashed in the desert and some of the survivors had some kids and lived in this canyon but basically didn't want to live there forever so they left and went to get help. But they never came back for the kids. They've just been hanging out waiting and swimming and getting tan. It's sort of Lord of the Flies meets Jersey Shore.
So the kids want Mad Max to fly them out of there on the broken-ass plane but Max is all hell no. First off, he likes it there. Fresh water and mangoes and plus he's way bigger than everyone and gets to boss them all around. He's like king of the kids. He probably misses Sprog still. Anyway, he says there is nowhere to go and this place is a good as it gets and that's that.
But kids will be kids, right? And a bunch of them run off one night to find civilization. I guess they're tired of living in a canyon, which would be pretty boring I admit. Of course now Max has to go rescue them. Mad Max is always sticking his neck out for someone. People are such jerks to Max.
The kids end up at Bartertown which is no place for them. What are they gonna do? Trade their mangoes for shit? Nope! Then Max catches up with them and comes up with an awesome plan. He'll rescue Master who is now powerless without Blaster and being treated like shit by Aunty. And you know what that means, right? Chase scene!
Okay, so the last movie has the greatest chase ever. We've established that. It's fact. And there is no way to top that, right? Don't even try! And this movie doesn't. Instead it does something totally new. Mad Max and the kids and Blaster all jump on a train (a fucking train!) and barrel out of town with Aunty and Ironbar and all the other henchmen chasing them. Brilliant!
Of course the chase is still pretty awesome. That's why you watch a Mad Max movie. Not for the kids, or the love stories, or the intrigue of shit shoveling. Nope. You watch it for the chases. And the crashes. Big chases always equal big crashes. And this movie doesn’t disappoint. And I am pretty sure this is the only movie that features a train chase.
Anyways, the chase ends in another big ass crash and all the kids get away but Mad Max is left behind. Again. It kind of sucks. But like I said, he's a lone wolf.
So that's that. You should buy these movies. Or get them from Qwikster or whatever it is called now. They are the awesomest movies ever made. EVER.
Pornstache out.
But today I am not renting anything because I own these on Beta, VHS, laserdisc, DVD, and Blu-Ray. And I am schooling you on not one but three video classics. That's right—I am talking about the greatest trilogy of films in history. Mad Max! Hell yeah! Movies do not get any better than this. Don't believe me? Read up and learn, future Maxologists.
Mad Max
The first movie is about a cop named Mad Max who kicks the asses of a bunch of bikers in the Australian outback. These bikers all have dumb names like Toecutter and Johnny the Boy and crap like that. Basically the bikers are out to get revenge on Max because there was a totally wicked car chase at the start of the movie where the gang's leader named Nightrider was killed. These guys hate the cops who are named Max and Goose and Fifi.
Mad Max is played by Mel Gibson way before he was famous and before he became a world-class douchemonster. Look, Mel, this ain't the Dark Ages: Don't be a racist against Jews (or anyone) and don't assault women. And ONLY call women "sugartits" if you're dating them. Damn, it ain't rocket surgery, Mel. Grow up! Plus, that beaver movie with Clarice Starling looks like shit.
Anyways, the bikers cause all kinds of trouble up and down the Australian countryside, because, unless every biker-related movie since the days of Marlon Brando has been lying to me, that's what bikers do. And eventually the cops arrest Johnny the Boy who the gang doesn't even seem to like very much. But he's got one of those slick lawyers who gets him off (that's what she said) and he goes free. This pisses off Goose who beats up Johnny the Boy.
Later Johnny the Boy gets revenge by cooking Goose's goose which makes the gang like him more. Max freaks out that his best friend is all messed up and he tries to quit the cop force but Fifi tells him to go on vacation and think it over. So Max takes his wife and his kid who is named Sprog to the Oceanside.
Okay, look, at this point, you might be hoping that I will whip out some facts from my brainpan's container of wicked film knowledge and explain what the hell is up with all the weird names in Australia, but I don't know, all right? It's messed up! There's a fact for you. Also, film history fans, notice how Top Gun totally stole the name Goose for their sidekick. Even back then Hollywood was out of good ideas.
Anyways, while on vacation, Max's wife and Sprog (messed up!) go to buy an ice cream cone and run into the biker gang. She smashes her ice cream into Toecutter's face before they can grab her. She barely escapes. But later they track her down and kill both her and Sprog. Max totally loses it. I guess this is where he becomes Mad. He's more than mad. But I guess they couldn't call the movie Totally Fucking Pissed Off Max. I would have if it was my movie. But I guess that's why I'm not in Hollywood. Or whatever the Australian version of Hollywood is. Melbourne?
Max decides to stay a cop and chases Toecutter and Johnny the Boy into the Forbidden Zone. I guess some nuclear shit happened in Australia in this movie. One by one Mad Max kills the bikers and that's pretty much the end. There are some awesome car crashes and great chases. Not a flawless film, because things in the middle get slow. Like who needs to see all that romantic shit in the middle with Max and his wife on vacation? This ain't When Harry Met Kangaroo Sally, Mate.
The Road Warrior
Okay, let me just say, this is the best one of the series obviously because this is the best movie ever made. Mad Max is still in the future and more nuclear shit has gone down. Like all the way down. Everything is fucked up, there is no civilization. It's total chaos, like free-skate used to be on Thursday nights out at the old Skate-and-Skeet. The only good thing about that is that it's where I took Tammy on our first date. You should see the powder-blue jumpsuit I used to wear to free-skate, which had a fuckin' rollerskate done in fuckin' glitter on the back, man. Good times. They tore down the Skate-and-Skeet years ago, though. I bawled when that happened, man.
Anyways, no one has gas in the future. No one has bullets either. And even though it's the middle of the desert, everyone is wearing leather. Hey, I'm no femifart sociologist here, just a red-blooded film buff, but it is strongly implied that the bad guys in this film are total queers. Man, I suppose I'm getting soft in my old age, but even old Butch has been to a gay wedding (that's a whole 'nother post, brother), and treating queers like they're freakos (in a bad way) is the one thing that kind of dates this film. I guess that was just the '80s for you.
Which is really weird, when you think about it, because everyone looked like a bunch of queerbaits in the '80s. I think every guy I knew was technically gay for a period of about three years, until we found out all the members of Duran Duran were dudes.
Anyways, Max is no longer a cop because there are no more cops now because there is no more society. Just gangs who fight each other for gasoline I guess so they can drive around looking for more gasoline. Talk about some serious social commentary on our dependence on fossil fuels. That's what makes this movie so good. Ha ha! Just kidding. What makes this movie so good is the fucking car chases. No shit.
The movie starts with an awesome car chase and shootout between Max and his dog named Dog versus some bikers in mohawks and leather chaps. Max has a new enemy named Wez. He's a major league freako and would probably read Shakesville if they had the internet and blogs and shit in this movie. I'm kidding. The guy is a total fascist. He'd read Andrew Breitbart.
So Max makes enemies of the bikers and befriends a guy named Gyro who has a little helicopter. Gyro takes Max to a refinery that the biker gang is trying to invade. Inside the refinery are the good guys (you can tell because they all wear white and have blonde hair). The bikers are led by Lord Humungus who was really a pro wrestler. I think he even provided his own costume.
Then Max saves some of the good guys and gets inside the refinery and offers to help them in exchange for some gasoline. The good guys are named Pappagallo and Warrior Woman and the Feral Kid who is a feral kid. Let me just say this little guy is the toughest kid in movies ever. He doesn't speak he just grunts and he has a fox tail sewn to his butt and he throws a super-deadly boomerang. I am pretty sure if he wanted to, he could have killed Mad Max, too, and Mad Max is the toughest man in movies so that is really saying something.
Anyways, Mad Max and Pappagallo work out a plan to leave the refinery with as much gas as they can so they can get to the beach and restart civilization. But they'll need a diesel truck to do that. And Mad Max knows where to find one. So he has to sneak out then come back with a truck, which is not so easy since the place is surrounded by Wez and Humungus and all the bikers. (Hey, I wonder if any of these bikers were in the other gang in the first movie. Wouldn't that be a trip?) But shit like this is just a walkabout in the park for Mad Max.
And then the real shit happens: The world's greatest chase scene ever filmed ever. This is why God gave us celluloid. It's 100% bad-ass. There are like a thousand bad guys vs. Mad Max in his diesel tanker truck. And guess who wins? That's right. It ain't a spoiler to say Mad Max kicks everyone's ass. If you want to see some of it, click here. It's violent as hell, because Mad Max doesn't take no shit.
And surprise surprise (these are spoilers) there is even a twist ending. There's no gasoline in Mad Max's truck. In your face, biker gang! While Mad Max was leading the bikers all across the Outback (man, now I want a Bloomin' Onion) the good guys were sneaking out the back door with all the gas. And then they blew up the refinery which is the biggest explosion in the history of film, seriously. In your face again, biker gang!
At the very end, the good guys head into the sunset leaving Mad Max behind. He's a lone wolf. Like old Butch.
(Except for when I'm dating, engaged, and/or married to Tammy.)
Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome
Note: "Thunderdome" keeps coming up in spell check. How is that possible? This is a real word now, Harvard dictionary eggheads. Get on that, okay?
Now it's way farther in the future and there is no more gas. None! At least not in Australia. Mad Max's car is being pulled by camels. Camels! What the heck, man? Yeah, and he is hella old too. He has long hair like he's Kip Winger or something now. He also has a pet monkey.
So some dude in a plane who is played by the same guy who was Gyro in the last movie but is a different character now which is kind of confusing flies by and kicks Mad Max in the head and knocks him in the sand and steals his camel wagon. Damn! You know this shit won't stand, right? Right.
And because that monkey is clever he starts flinging things out of this wagon leaving a trail all the way to Bartertown. Bartertown: Home of Thunderdome. Ah, yeah! Bartertown is a town in the desert where people trade shit. Like if I had a shitload of illegal fireworks in my garage and wanted to trade them for a couple bags of good weed or an outboard motor or something, I'd go to Bartertown.
Which, come to think of it, kind of makes my garage like Barterton. Which makes it a lot cooler, actually. Imma Lillian Vernon "Bartertown" onto some shit and hang it up in the garage.
But Bartertown sucks shit for Max, because his ass has nothing to trade. Thanks, used-to-be-Gyro dude! Anyway, the guy at Bartertown's gate looks at Mad Max and can tell what a badass he is and has him escorted inside. To Tina Turner's apartment! "You better be good to me, Mad Max!" Ha! I crack myself up. First off, Tina Turner should be in more movies. Secondly, her name is Aunty Entity, and I don't even know what that is supposed to mean.
Aunty offers Mad Max an apple and then all hell breaks loose. Like twenty dudes in mohawks jump out and try to beat the shit out of Max. Hey, dumbasses! That's Mad Max! You can't kick his ass! You shouldn't even try. Dude! Yeah, Max pounds them all. And then Aunty congratulates him and tells him she has a job for him. Turns out this was all an audition for Max to kick some ass in Thunderdome. Yes! Thunderdome.
Here's the deal: Bartertown runs on methane which comes from a pig farm under Bartertown. The pig farm is run by Master Blaster, who's an asshole. And Master Blaster is actually two people. Blaster is a big guy and Master is a little dude who rides around on his back. They like to have embargoes and turn off the electricity to Bartertown which makes Aunty look like an asshole. So she wants Max to kill Blaster.
But since Aunty is all trying to build a society with laws and shit, she can't just have him assassinated. Max has to pick a fight and they'll have to duel it out in Thunderdome. So Max gets a job shoveling pig shit and it turns out his monkey is down there and so is his car. Max demands his car back and Blaster tries to snap his neck but then Aunty's guards come out and stop him. If there's a dispute, they have to settle it in Thunderdome. Hell yeah!
Here's the rule of Thunderdome: Two men enter, one man leaves. That's it! To the death! Thunderdome is a geodesic dome cage thing. With chainsaws and axes and swords and shit inside. And bungees. Yes! Bungees! Mad Max and Blaster are attached to bungees and they have chainsaws and they battle it out! Hell yeah! Blaster is like twice as big as Max and almost beats him but Max comes out victorious. It's a pretty awesome fight. You can watch it here.
But at the end of the fight, Max figures out Blaster is just a guy with a disability and doesn't even know what he's doing so he refuses to kill him. But then one of Aunty's henchman, a weirdo named Ironbar (and seriously Mad Max, your character names are ridiculous), kills the guy anyway. Then Aunty gets pissed and since Max broke the deal he has to face the wheel. Yeah, it rhymes because it's Tina Turner and she likes shit that rhymes. And basically Mad Max gets banished. They tie him up and put him on a horse and send him into the desert.
Then things get weird.
Days later Max wakes up on a canyon oasis surround by little kids. What? Yeah, I told you: Weird. These kids are all wearing loincloths and have tans and crazy hair and they think Mad Max is a plane captain that has come to save them all and take them back to civilization. I know, right? It turns out a big plane crashed in the desert and some of the survivors had some kids and lived in this canyon but basically didn't want to live there forever so they left and went to get help. But they never came back for the kids. They've just been hanging out waiting and swimming and getting tan. It's sort of Lord of the Flies meets Jersey Shore.
So the kids want Mad Max to fly them out of there on the broken-ass plane but Max is all hell no. First off, he likes it there. Fresh water and mangoes and plus he's way bigger than everyone and gets to boss them all around. He's like king of the kids. He probably misses Sprog still. Anyway, he says there is nowhere to go and this place is a good as it gets and that's that.
But kids will be kids, right? And a bunch of them run off one night to find civilization. I guess they're tired of living in a canyon, which would be pretty boring I admit. Of course now Max has to go rescue them. Mad Max is always sticking his neck out for someone. People are such jerks to Max.
The kids end up at Bartertown which is no place for them. What are they gonna do? Trade their mangoes for shit? Nope! Then Max catches up with them and comes up with an awesome plan. He'll rescue Master who is now powerless without Blaster and being treated like shit by Aunty. And you know what that means, right? Chase scene!
Okay, so the last movie has the greatest chase ever. We've established that. It's fact. And there is no way to top that, right? Don't even try! And this movie doesn't. Instead it does something totally new. Mad Max and the kids and Blaster all jump on a train (a fucking train!) and barrel out of town with Aunty and Ironbar and all the other henchmen chasing them. Brilliant!
Of course the chase is still pretty awesome. That's why you watch a Mad Max movie. Not for the kids, or the love stories, or the intrigue of shit shoveling. Nope. You watch it for the chases. And the crashes. Big chases always equal big crashes. And this movie doesn’t disappoint. And I am pretty sure this is the only movie that features a train chase.
Anyways, the chase ends in another big ass crash and all the kids get away but Mad Max is left behind. Again. It kind of sucks. But like I said, he's a lone wolf.
So that's that. You should buy these movies. Or get them from Qwikster or whatever it is called now. They are the awesomest movies ever made. EVER.
Pornstache out.
This Is (Soon To Be) a Real Thing in the Real World
The details of this seem genuinely incredible, but, supposedly, Ted Haggard and Gary Busey will swap wives on the new celebrity version of the detestable ABC reality series, Wife Swap.
So, Busey, who is now a Promise Keeper (whut), isn't even married (phew) and thus doesn't have a wife to be swapped (barf), but they're nonetheless going to be filming an episode of Wife Swap at a GLBT Pride Center (yikes)? Does not compute.
This sounds so goddamned stupid that it's probably true.
[Via Andy.]
According to unconfirmed reports, the former New Life Church pastor and his wife will star in the new ABC reality series, "Celebrity Wife Swap," on which they will swap partners (without sex) with actor Gary Busey and his partner.Huh? Buh? Zuh?
Sources have told The Gazette that the show will shoot Thursday at the GLBT Pride Center in Colorado Springs.
...The premise is simple: Haggard and Busey will swap wives for a short time. The first couple of days, the husbands make the rules for their new "spouses." After that, the wives take charge. The fun could come from the conflict between Haggard and his reality wife (no word if it’s Busey's fiancĆ©e and mother of his new son, or one of his ex-wives), whom sources say is a spiritual woman but not a fan of organized religion.
On the surface, it might seem like an unlikely pairing, but there are several surprising parallels between Busey and Haggard. Busey is a born-again Christian and active minister with Promise Keepers, and Haggard has returned to the ministry as pastor of St. James, a new nondenominational Christian church in Colorado Springs.
So, Busey, who is now a Promise Keeper (whut), isn't even married (phew) and thus doesn't have a wife to be swapped (barf), but they're nonetheless going to be filming an episode of Wife Swap at a GLBT Pride Center (yikes)? Does not compute.
This sounds so goddamned stupid that it's probably true.
[Via Andy.]
Attention! Meet-Up Time!
Well, Shakers, it's that time again! We're planning a meet-up here in Chicagoland for Saturday, October 8th (2011). The current plan is to go to our favorite Celtic pub in the early afternoon, take over their party room, and while away the afternoon and evening. Board games, movies, and good conversation are currently on the list of activities before dinner, but feel free to suggest others.
At this point, we want to get a handle on how many people will be there, so please drop a line in comments or email Liss or me, Misty, if you're planning on coming and want the specifics.
To answer some frequently asked questions...
* There is no community participation threshold one has to meet to attend. We've had lurkers at every event, and all are welcome.
* There's no age limit. It's a restaurant and pub, so you don't have to be 21 to enter; if you're old enough to read the blog and get yourself there, you're old enough to attend!
* You can come anytime and stay as long--or as briefly--as you like.
* There's no fee to get in. Most people who attend have something to eat and/or drink (they do separate checks for us). It does help offset the cost of the room rental for us, but it's certainly not required.
* It is a bully-free zone. Come as you are!
* The meet-ups have ranged in size from 12 people to around 50.
* Don't be intimidated! If you're shy, or have social anxiety, you'll fit right in! At every meet-up, someone has said they almost didn't come because they're shy, or because they thought they wouldn't be clever enough to keep up with the conversation—but they're so glad they did! It's not an academic event; it's casual, mellow, silly, and fun. More than anything, we laugh.
We hope to see you there!
At this point, we want to get a handle on how many people will be there, so please drop a line in comments or email Liss or me, Misty, if you're planning on coming and want the specifics.
To answer some frequently asked questions...
* There is no community participation threshold one has to meet to attend. We've had lurkers at every event, and all are welcome.
* There's no age limit. It's a restaurant and pub, so you don't have to be 21 to enter; if you're old enough to read the blog and get yourself there, you're old enough to attend!
* You can come anytime and stay as long--or as briefly--as you like.
* There's no fee to get in. Most people who attend have something to eat and/or drink (they do separate checks for us). It does help offset the cost of the room rental for us, but it's certainly not required.
* It is a bully-free zone. Come as you are!
* The meet-ups have ranged in size from 12 people to around 50.
* Don't be intimidated! If you're shy, or have social anxiety, you'll fit right in! At every meet-up, someone has said they almost didn't come because they're shy, or because they thought they wouldn't be clever enough to keep up with the conversation—but they're so glad they did! It's not an academic event; it's casual, mellow, silly, and fun. More than anything, we laugh.
We hope to see you there!
Wednesday Blogaround
This blogaround brought to you by double rainbows.
Recommended Reading:
Rachel: Birth Control Recall
Steve: GOP Leaders: Let America Suffer
Leslie: Gamers Unlock Protein Mystery That Baffled AIDS Researchers for Years
Trudy: Illinois Trans Woman Wins Discrimination Suit
Shayera: Elizabeth Warren Is Amazing
Andy: Military Airman Who Came Out to Dad on YouTube Talks to ABC News
Fannie: Men Need Manland!
Angry Asian Man: Study Examines Effect of Stereotypes on Mental Health
Eliot: [Trigger warning for misogyny and body policing] Just Let the Newspaper Make the Easy Joke about Sarah Jessica Parker and Christina Hendricks for You
Leave your links in comments...
Recommended Reading:
Rachel: Birth Control Recall
Steve: GOP Leaders: Let America Suffer
Leslie: Gamers Unlock Protein Mystery That Baffled AIDS Researchers for Years
Trudy: Illinois Trans Woman Wins Discrimination Suit
Shayera: Elizabeth Warren Is Amazing
Andy: Military Airman Who Came Out to Dad on YouTube Talks to ABC News
Fannie: Men Need Manland!
Angry Asian Man: Study Examines Effect of Stereotypes on Mental Health
Eliot: [Trigger warning for misogyny and body policing] Just Let the Newspaper Make the Easy Joke about Sarah Jessica Parker and Christina Hendricks for You
Leave your links in comments...
Quote of the Day
"Openly loving women, in a society premised on oppressing women, is prolly one of the most radical things you can do."—Renina.
Troy Davis
This is the last day to take action to save Troy Davis' life. Please use your teaspoon, if you can.
Sure
Mike Huckabee says: "The abortion industry [is] a multimillion dollar industry specifically designed in order to terminate life and make people rich. Let's not kid ourselves; this is not about elevating women this is about elevating wealth on behalf of those who profit from the sale of death."
LOL yup.
Every reproductive rights advocate I know is rolling in dough! WE ARE SO RICH!
True Fact: Every time someone gets an abortion, every professional-grade steampunk abortion robot such as myself gets a 10¢ commission. That's why I live in steampunk mansion with a gold-plated bidet.
LOL yup.
Every reproductive rights advocate I know is rolling in dough! WE ARE SO RICH!
True Fact: Every time someone gets an abortion, every professional-grade steampunk abortion robot such as myself gets a 10¢ commission. That's why I live in steampunk mansion with a gold-plated bidet.
This Is What Patriotism Looks Like
Patriotism is a concept that is easily regarded as something vaguely sinister, because of the people who wage wars of choice justified by lies about national safety, or something ridiculous, because of the people who reduce patriotism to flag lapel pins and trite bumper-stickers, or something divisive, because of the people who deem insufficiently patriotic, as if low expectations are evidence of respect, anyone who criticizes hir own government because they expect more.
It's sad, really, that patriotism is so often regarded as nothing more than a weapon or a joke, or an expression of mindless nationalism, because there are expressions of patriotism which are really beautiful, especially within social justice movements.
This is what authentic patriotism looks like:
Treated like a second-class citizen by the nation he loved so much he was willing to sacrifice himself to defend it, Choi endeavored to make that nation a more inclusive place, a better place.
And now that the first battle in this war for military equality has been won, Lt. Dan Choi is not turning his back on the nation who turned its back on him, but is instead considering reenlisting in the military, making use of the opportunity that he was integral in helping to create for others.
It's sad, really, that patriotism is so often regarded as nothing more than a weapon or a joke, or an expression of mindless nationalism, because there are expressions of patriotism which are really beautiful, especially within social justice movements.
This is what authentic patriotism looks like:
More than two years after former infantry officer Daniel Choi came out on a talk show as a gay service member – an event that led to his discharge - the Iraq war veteran says he will re-enlist in the U.S. Army following Tuesday's repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell.And that looked like this:
"Going back to the military will be a vindication," Choi told POLITICO. [I'm] going back because I fought to go back. The seriousness of our claims was not just political theatre – it was really drawn from our lives. I sacrificed so much so I could go back."
In October 2010, he attempted to rejoin the U.S. Army, but has gone back and forth since then. Choi has scheduled appointment with a military recruiter to talk about joining the Army Reserves later this week.
Choi became a gay rights icon after the West Point grad told television host Rachel Maddow that he was gay back in March 2009. His resulting military discharge galvanized opposition to DADT, which allowed for gay individuals to be removed from service. Choi's activism led to trouble with the law, and he was later arrested for chaining himself to the White House fence during a protest.
Lt. Dan Choi, center, is arrested for handcuffing himself to the fence outside the White House in Washington, Monday, Nov. 15, 2010, during a protest for gay rights, during which protesters demanded that President Obama keep his promise to repeal 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell. [AP Photo]Lieutenant Dan Choi, a West Point grad, an Arabic translator, an environmental engineer, an infantry officer who served in Iraq, and a New York National Guardsman, was pulled off the fence, arrested, and dragged down the street in front of the White House, a symbol of the nation he had offered his life to protect, a service for which he was told "No, thank you," because he is gay.
Treated like a second-class citizen by the nation he loved so much he was willing to sacrifice himself to defend it, Choi endeavored to make that nation a more inclusive place, a better place.
And now that the first battle in this war for military equality has been won, Lt. Dan Choi is not turning his back on the nation who turned its back on him, but is instead considering reenlisting in the military, making use of the opportunity that he was integral in helping to create for others.
His widely-covered ordeal made him a star in the gay rights movement. But he says his reenlistment will be for those who weren't fortunate enough to have the kind of spotlight that he did. "Not everyone is lucky enough to come out on the Rachel Maddow Show," he said.That, right there, is a patriot.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Question of the Day
What smell commonly regarded as unpleasant do find appealing?
I seem to like a lot of smells most people find icky: Cigarettes, gasoline, the musty, stale, vaguely smoky smell that resides in vintage purses and on the pages of old books. I don't even mind skunk, from a reasonable distance.
I also quite like the smell of horse and cow manure—the latter of which, I should note, I have never smelled on factory farms (where it may be unpleasant), only on family dairy farms, where the grassy, earthy smell of hay- and grass-fed animals' manure I find to be quite agreeable. They are also smells I associate, respectively, with horseback riding and with visiting the dairy farm of a family friend in Upstate New York, both activities I have long enjoyed, so the scents have a nostalgic element to them for me that certainly adds to their appeal.
Pig shit, on the other hand, I find absolutely intolerable.
I seem to like a lot of smells most people find icky: Cigarettes, gasoline, the musty, stale, vaguely smoky smell that resides in vintage purses and on the pages of old books. I don't even mind skunk, from a reasonable distance.
I also quite like the smell of horse and cow manure—the latter of which, I should note, I have never smelled on factory farms (where it may be unpleasant), only on family dairy farms, where the grassy, earthy smell of hay- and grass-fed animals' manure I find to be quite agreeable. They are also smells I associate, respectively, with horseback riding and with visiting the dairy farm of a family friend in Upstate New York, both activities I have long enjoyed, so the scents have a nostalgic element to them for me that certainly adds to their appeal.
Pig shit, on the other hand, I find absolutely intolerable.
The Most Compelling Argument for Raising Taxes Yet
Bill O'Reilly, Professional Fuckhead: Here's the unintended consequence of Mr. Obama's revenue-enhancing plan—and, I must tell you, I want the feds to get more revenue. I don't want to starve them, as some people do. We need a robust military, a good transportation system, and protections all over the place. But if you tax achievement, some of the achievers are going to pack it in.First of all, he is President Obama, O'Reilly, you execrable gob. Secondly, taxing someone's personal income does not affect their corporate earnings, so threatening to quit is out of spite, not the inability to continue to pay employees—which O'Reilly knows, and note his careful language. Finally, no, it's not "very possible" that O'Reilly will be paying a tax rate of more than 50%.
Again, let's take me: My corporations employ scores of people. They depend on me to do what I do, so they can make a nice salary. If Barack Obama begins taxing me more than 50%, which is very possible, I don't know how much longer I'm gonna do this.
I like my job, but there comes a point when taxation becomes oppressive. Is the country really entitled to half a person's income?
There are, however, self-employed people in this country paying close to that tax rate already—and I don't hear O'Reilly giving a fuck about them, because, of course, it's not about "taxing achievement," but about taxing millionaires.
[Via Media Matters.]
Quote of the Day
"Thousands of bridges, just like this one, are nearing the end of their designed life spans and can become structurally deficient at any time."—James Corless, Director of Transportation for America, commenting on the 18% of bridges in Indiana which have found to be structurally deficient or functionally obsolete.
Two weeks ago, Governor Mitch Daniels "ordered the 50-year-old Sherman Minton Bridge closed ... after inspectors found cracks in the steel span. ... Indiana has 2,591 highway bridges. Of those, 146 were rated 'structurally deficient' and 323 earned a 'functionally obsolete' rating, according to December 2010 statistics compiled by the Federal Highway Administration."
Hopefully we can fix them with BOOTSTRAPS!
I emailed this story to Iain, who replied, "Is the one abortion clinic in Indiana accessible only via a series of rickety bridges?" LOLsob forever and ever and ever.
[H/T to Shaker Andrea.]
Two weeks ago, Governor Mitch Daniels "ordered the 50-year-old Sherman Minton Bridge closed ... after inspectors found cracks in the steel span. ... Indiana has 2,591 highway bridges. Of those, 146 were rated 'structurally deficient' and 323 earned a 'functionally obsolete' rating, according to December 2010 statistics compiled by the Federal Highway Administration."
Hopefully we can fix them with BOOTSTRAPS!
I emailed this story to Iain, who replied, "Is the one abortion clinic in Indiana accessible only via a series of rickety bridges?" LOLsob forever and ever and ever.
[H/T to Shaker Andrea.]
The Vatican Is Very Helpful, As Usual
by Shaker Jenny
[Trigger warning for transphobia.]
Okay, so the Vatican has issued a position paper regarding 'sex change operations'. Yay, this has got to be good (or we'll have to redefine what 'good' is, I suppose).
The article states: "The key point is that the (transsexual) surgical operation is so superficial and external that it does not change the personality. If the person was male, he remains male. If she was female, she remains female…"
I find myself in the unusual position of sort of agreeing with the main point here: A trans woman was a woman and a trans man was a man prior to SRS and having the body changed to align with that reality doesn't change that underlying fact. Not surprisingly, the Vatican and I differ on the actual interpretation!
They proclaim that trans identities are invalid and a result of "mental instability" or "psychic disorder". They also claim "recent medical evidence suggested that in a majority of cases the procedure increases the likelihood of depression and psychic disturbance." This is very much at odds with the accepted medical Standards of Care, recommendations of the AMA, and the vast preponderance of personal accounts from transsexual identifying people in my acquaintance (myself included). At the very least I say: Citation Needed!
It is my experience that any remaining post-operative 'depression and psychic disturbance' is a result of having to deal with retrofuck misogynistic patriarchal power structures trying to invalidate my identity.
Anyway…
They also conclude that:
• Existing priests that have a "'sex change' can continue to exercise their ministry privately if it does not cause scandal."—'cause they're totes still dudes, of course. Naturally, they reserve the right to expel said individual following a tribunal ('cause we didn't get enough of those during the Inquisition).
• People who have undergone a sex-change operation cannot enter into a valid marriage, either because they would be marrying someone of the same sex in the eyes of the church or because their mental state casts doubt on their ability to make and uphold their marriage vows. (Existing marriage are okay "unless a church tribunal determines that a transsexual disposition predated the wedding ceremony".)
These are their logical conclusions drawn from a flawed initial assumption: That trans women are originally men and trans men are originally women, and the fact that 'sex change' doesn't change an individual's gender.
Sigh.
Forgive me for being unaccountably 'depressed and psychically disturbed'.
[Trigger warning for transphobia.]
Okay, so the Vatican has issued a position paper regarding 'sex change operations'. Yay, this has got to be good (or we'll have to redefine what 'good' is, I suppose).
The article states: "The key point is that the (transsexual) surgical operation is so superficial and external that it does not change the personality. If the person was male, he remains male. If she was female, she remains female…"
I find myself in the unusual position of sort of agreeing with the main point here: A trans woman was a woman and a trans man was a man prior to SRS and having the body changed to align with that reality doesn't change that underlying fact. Not surprisingly, the Vatican and I differ on the actual interpretation!
They proclaim that trans identities are invalid and a result of "mental instability" or "psychic disorder". They also claim "recent medical evidence suggested that in a majority of cases the procedure increases the likelihood of depression and psychic disturbance." This is very much at odds with the accepted medical Standards of Care, recommendations of the AMA, and the vast preponderance of personal accounts from transsexual identifying people in my acquaintance (myself included). At the very least I say: Citation Needed!
It is my experience that any remaining post-operative 'depression and psychic disturbance' is a result of having to deal with retrofuck misogynistic patriarchal power structures trying to invalidate my identity.
Anyway…
They also conclude that:
• Existing priests that have a "'sex change' can continue to exercise their ministry privately if it does not cause scandal."—'cause they're totes still dudes, of course. Naturally, they reserve the right to expel said individual following a tribunal ('cause we didn't get enough of those during the Inquisition).
• People who have undergone a sex-change operation cannot enter into a valid marriage, either because they would be marrying someone of the same sex in the eyes of the church or because their mental state casts doubt on their ability to make and uphold their marriage vows. (Existing marriage are okay "unless a church tribunal determines that a transsexual disposition predated the wedding ceremony".)
These are their logical conclusions drawn from a flawed initial assumption: That trans women are originally men and trans men are originally women, and the fact that 'sex change' doesn't change an individual's gender.
Sigh.
Forgive me for being unaccountably 'depressed and psychically disturbed'.
Number of the Day
100%: The percentage increase in adoptions at a Texas Dachshund rescue after professional photographer Teresa Berg volunteered to take their adoption photos.
[Via.]
Male Anchor, sitting beside dog: We've heard that a dog is [humankind's] best friend, and Sam here is a good friend. [dog yawns] But who might be a homeless dog's best friend? Possibly the woman our Steve Hartman went to meet.More here.
Steve Hartman, in voiceover, over images of Teresa Berg taking pictures of dogs: Teresa Berg of Dallas, Texas is a professional pet photographer with a major league pet peeve. [cut to Berg sitting at her computer showing online pet pix to Hartman; Berg is heard saying, "It could be so much more appealing…"] Her issue: Bad dog adoption photos. [They chat briefly about a bad picture.] Shelters and rescues post these pictures to try to entice people to adopt. [Berg comments briefly on another picture.] But Teresa says the effect is often just the opposite—that thousands of dogs are euthanized every year for no other reason than bad marketing.
Berg: I can't stand the thought of, you know, for want of a good picture, that a dog goes homeless. [She shrugs, choked up.]
Hartman, in voiceover, over images of Berg photographing more dogs: That's why, a few years ago, Teresa started working for homeless dogs, pro bono, if you will—volunteering to take their adoption photos. She worked almost exclusively with a Dachshund rescue group, run by Kathleen Coleman.
Coleman: We were getting adoptions, but it was just slow going.
Hartman, in voiceover, over images of Berg photographing more dogs, then over old and new photos: So, Teresa retook all the pictures of all the dogs Kathleen had posted online—brought 'em in focus and put 'em in pearls, got 'em out of jail and onto the couch, and replaced the Nick Nolte mug shots with Dog Fancy cover shots. After the retakes, every one of these dogs got adopted in record time. And today, adoptions at the rescue are up one hundred percent.
Coleman: Pictures make a difference. That dog looks like it could be my friend.
Hartman, over images taken by Berg of a Dachshund named Liberty: This was Liberty's picture. The day after it was posted, three people called to adopt her. [over video of Berg welcoming people to a class] Teresa is now determined to multiply her results by training volunteers from other rescues and shelters—and by persuading other professional photographers to lend their cameras to the cause.
Berg: If every photographer just took in one rescue group, we could save so many more dogs. We really could.
Hartman, in voiceover: She's talking tens of thousands of lives. Picture that.
[Via.]
Thanks, Chaz!
I didn't watch Dancing with the Stars last night, but, after seeing a lot written about Chaz Bono's performance, I sought it out so I could watch it. And it was exactly as joyful and fun as I kept reading it was. I'm sure there are corners of the internetz inhabited by people who say other things, nasty things, for reasons other than simply not appreciating what is basically bad amateur dancing, but all I can do is feel pity for people whose bigotry prevents them from enjoying watching Chaz Bono and Lacey Schwimmer dance.
Video Description: Chaz Bono and Lacey Schwimmer do the cha-cha.
It takes some serious bravery to face the eleventy metric fucktons of body policing, for being trans and for being fat, that Chaz Bono faces and get on national television and do something that demands focus on your body. (And defies expectations of what fat bodies are supposed to do.) That's some inspiring teaspoonery, right there. Thanks, Chaz.
Video Description: Chaz Bono and Lacey Schwimmer do the cha-cha.
It takes some serious bravery to face the eleventy metric fucktons of body policing, for being trans and for being fat, that Chaz Bono faces and get on national television and do something that demands focus on your body. (And defies expectations of what fat bodies are supposed to do.) That's some inspiring teaspoonery, right there. Thanks, Chaz.
Rhetorical Question of the Day
Should the title of this article really be "In early Obama White House, female staffers felt frozen out," or should it be, say, "Obama responds to female staffers' complaints about being frozen out"?
Because, first of all, it isn't that the female staffers "felt" marginalized, but that they were actually marginalized. And, if the rest of the information in the piece is accurate, once Valerie Jarrett laid it out for Obama that known misogynist assholes Larry Summers and Rahm Emanuel were marginalizing women (if only someone could have warned the president!), Obama made a genuine effort to change that dynamic, which is a more important story and a more honest headline than what the WaPo offers.
Because, first of all, it isn't that the female staffers "felt" marginalized, but that they were actually marginalized. And, if the rest of the information in the piece is accurate, once Valerie Jarrett laid it out for Obama that known misogynist assholes Larry Summers and Rahm Emanuel were marginalizing women (if only someone could have warned the president!), Obama made a genuine effort to change that dynamic, which is a more important story and a more honest headline than what the WaPo offers.
The More Things Change...
[Trigger warning for rape culture, misogyny, racism, and ableism.]
So, last night, I decided to watch the pilots of two of the new woman-centered sitcoms that two of the networks had to offer us (ladies!) this fall: First, I watched CBS' 2 Broke Girls, which stars Kat Dennings as a cynical waitress and struggling cupcake entrepreneur, and Beth Behrs as the daughter of a Bernie Madoff-type scoundrel who has taken a job at the diner and become Dennings' roommate because the feds seized the family's assets, including her trust fund. Both of the actresses are young, white, and conventionally attractive.
Three minutes into the show, there was racism all over the place. The owner/manager of the diner, played by Matthew Moy, is a ridiculous Asian stereotype: He has Americanized his name to Bryce, prompting Dennings to exclaim, "So your name is Bryce Lee?" Huge laugh.
Garrett Morris is cast as a ridiculous Black stereotype, tasked with delivering unbelievable lines like: "You might as well be a night maid at the Schwarzenegger house, because you got screwed!" and: "That girl is working harder than Stephen Hawking trying to put in cufflinks!" Yiiiiiiiiiiikes.
There are more racist jokes (such as they are) and gender essentialist claptrap all over the place, and then there is this scene: The erstwhile heiress, with nowhere to go, falls asleep on the subway, where the career waitress discovers her. When she touches her to awaken her, the heiress startles and tasers her (with her pink taser, natch). Apologetically, the heiress explains, "I thought I was being raped!" To which the tasee replies, "That's not what rape feels like!" Huge laugh.
On the upside, at least it was a rape joke indicating that rape is bad. On the not-upside, an audience roared at a female character acknowledging having been raped. Whoops.
There is something positive to be said for 2 Broke Girls: Both lead female characters are allowed to be smart and capable and competent. Their relationship is not set up as a competition, but as a complementary friendship. It was really quite radical and wonderful. Too bad there's so much garbage undermining what could have made for a really neat show.
Next, I watched NBC's Whitney, a star vehicle for Whitney Cummings, who coincidentally co-created 2 Broke Girls with Sex and the City's Michael Patrick King. Whitney has no discernible hook: It's a crappy sitcom about a white, straight, conventionally attractive woman in a relationship with a white, straight, conventionally attractive dude. They have some boring friends, all of whom are white, except for Neal, played by Maulik Pancholy, whom Whitney's mother mistakes for a doctor and a valet. Hardy har.
Men are from Mars, women are from Venus, blah blah.
And then there is this scene: Whitney is insecure about their relationship because their third anniversary is coming up and they don't have sex four times a week, which Cosmo says they should be having. She asks her boyfriend if he remembers what they did on their last anniversary. "You took Tylenol PM. In the AM," he says. She replies, "I got the bottles mixed up! And, as I recall, you had sex with me anyway!" And he retorts, "It was our ANNIVERSARY!" Huge laugh.
So, basically, we are asked to find Whitney's boyfriend a likable character despite the fact that he raped her on their anniversary. Um, no. He is horrible and this show is garbage.
After I was done with my research into The Television Industry Speaks to Women, Fall 2011, I flipped over to an old episode of Laverne & Shirley, from 1976. In the episode, Hector (Greg Antonacci) has gotten mad that neither Laverne (Penny Marshall) nor Shirley (Cindy Williams) will go out with him, so he writes their names and number on the men's bathroom wall at Vinnie's Pool Hall, along with a note that they're "easy."
Laverne and Shirley don't know he's done this, so they're mystified by the sexually harassing prank calls they're getting and pleased when two guys they work with call them for a date.
The two guys show up for their date and immediately try to rape Laverne and Shirley. The scene is played for laughs, and gets a huge laugh from the audience.
I was born in 1974. For my entire lifetime, a woman-centered comedy show must contain "jokes" about the female lead(s) getting raped or almost getting raped, in order to appeal to a mass audience. If that doesn't perfectly illustrate that we live in a rape culture, I can't imagine what would.
So, last night, I decided to watch the pilots of two of the new woman-centered sitcoms that two of the networks had to offer us (ladies!) this fall: First, I watched CBS' 2 Broke Girls, which stars Kat Dennings as a cynical waitress and struggling cupcake entrepreneur, and Beth Behrs as the daughter of a Bernie Madoff-type scoundrel who has taken a job at the diner and become Dennings' roommate because the feds seized the family's assets, including her trust fund. Both of the actresses are young, white, and conventionally attractive.
Three minutes into the show, there was racism all over the place. The owner/manager of the diner, played by Matthew Moy, is a ridiculous Asian stereotype: He has Americanized his name to Bryce, prompting Dennings to exclaim, "So your name is Bryce Lee?" Huge laugh.
Garrett Morris is cast as a ridiculous Black stereotype, tasked with delivering unbelievable lines like: "You might as well be a night maid at the Schwarzenegger house, because you got screwed!" and: "That girl is working harder than Stephen Hawking trying to put in cufflinks!" Yiiiiiiiiiiikes.
There are more racist jokes (such as they are) and gender essentialist claptrap all over the place, and then there is this scene: The erstwhile heiress, with nowhere to go, falls asleep on the subway, where the career waitress discovers her. When she touches her to awaken her, the heiress startles and tasers her (with her pink taser, natch). Apologetically, the heiress explains, "I thought I was being raped!" To which the tasee replies, "That's not what rape feels like!" Huge laugh.
On the upside, at least it was a rape joke indicating that rape is bad. On the not-upside, an audience roared at a female character acknowledging having been raped. Whoops.
There is something positive to be said for 2 Broke Girls: Both lead female characters are allowed to be smart and capable and competent. Their relationship is not set up as a competition, but as a complementary friendship. It was really quite radical and wonderful. Too bad there's so much garbage undermining what could have made for a really neat show.
Next, I watched NBC's Whitney, a star vehicle for Whitney Cummings, who coincidentally co-created 2 Broke Girls with Sex and the City's Michael Patrick King. Whitney has no discernible hook: It's a crappy sitcom about a white, straight, conventionally attractive woman in a relationship with a white, straight, conventionally attractive dude. They have some boring friends, all of whom are white, except for Neal, played by Maulik Pancholy, whom Whitney's mother mistakes for a doctor and a valet. Hardy har.
Men are from Mars, women are from Venus, blah blah.
And then there is this scene: Whitney is insecure about their relationship because their third anniversary is coming up and they don't have sex four times a week, which Cosmo says they should be having. She asks her boyfriend if he remembers what they did on their last anniversary. "You took Tylenol PM. In the AM," he says. She replies, "I got the bottles mixed up! And, as I recall, you had sex with me anyway!" And he retorts, "It was our ANNIVERSARY!" Huge laugh.
So, basically, we are asked to find Whitney's boyfriend a likable character despite the fact that he raped her on their anniversary. Um, no. He is horrible and this show is garbage.
After I was done with my research into The Television Industry Speaks to Women, Fall 2011, I flipped over to an old episode of Laverne & Shirley, from 1976. In the episode, Hector (Greg Antonacci) has gotten mad that neither Laverne (Penny Marshall) nor Shirley (Cindy Williams) will go out with him, so he writes their names and number on the men's bathroom wall at Vinnie's Pool Hall, along with a note that they're "easy."
Laverne and Shirley don't know he's done this, so they're mystified by the sexually harassing prank calls they're getting and pleased when two guys they work with call them for a date.
The two guys show up for their date and immediately try to rape Laverne and Shirley. The scene is played for laughs, and gets a huge laugh from the audience.
I was born in 1974. For my entire lifetime, a woman-centered comedy show must contain "jokes" about the female lead(s) getting raped or almost getting raped, in order to appeal to a mass audience. If that doesn't perfectly illustrate that we live in a rape culture, I can't imagine what would.
Posse In Effect
Because Joe Arpaio is a ginormous racist douchebag, he's decided to get to the bottom of this whole presidential birth certificate thing once and for all. Whut? Yeah, I know, everyone thought that was settled. Right?
Well, no. Of course not. There could be a video of Obama coming out of the birth canal and being wrapped in an American flag at the base of the Washington Monument and a certain group of people (assholes) still wouldn't believe he's an American. I mean, first off, he's not white, so how could he be? We all knew that Obama releasing his birth certificate (twice) wasn't going to shut them up. No amount of placation will quiet the racist clowns who hate having a black man as their president.
That's why Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio has assembled his fabled Cold Case Posse to find out if Obama's birth certificate is fraudulent or not.
No word on how they're going to do that or who is even on the posse. I'm hoping they've hired renowned document expert and historian Benjamin Franklin Gates. That guy can get to the bottom of any conspiracy!
Arpaio assures us "This investigation does not involve politics." That's a relief! "When I get allegations brought to me by the citizens of Maricopa County, I look into the allegations, just like I am doing here." Oh, okay.
The complaint originated from Arizona's Surprise Tea Party, an obviously non-partisan group. Brian Reilly, a spokesman for the group, said he and the other teabaggers are looking forward to cooperating with the sheriff's investigation. Super!
The investigation is not being funded by taxpayers, but by the Cold Case Posse's 501(c)3, a charitable organization.
Well, no. Of course not. There could be a video of Obama coming out of the birth canal and being wrapped in an American flag at the base of the Washington Monument and a certain group of people (assholes) still wouldn't believe he's an American. I mean, first off, he's not white, so how could he be? We all knew that Obama releasing his birth certificate (twice) wasn't going to shut them up. No amount of placation will quiet the racist clowns who hate having a black man as their president.
That's why Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio has assembled his fabled Cold Case Posse to find out if Obama's birth certificate is fraudulent or not.
No word on how they're going to do that or who is even on the posse. I'm hoping they've hired renowned document expert and historian Benjamin Franklin Gates. That guy can get to the bottom of any conspiracy!
Arpaio assures us "This investigation does not involve politics." That's a relief! "When I get allegations brought to me by the citizens of Maricopa County, I look into the allegations, just like I am doing here." Oh, okay.
The complaint originated from Arizona's Surprise Tea Party, an obviously non-partisan group. Brian Reilly, a spokesman for the group, said he and the other teabaggers are looking forward to cooperating with the sheriff's investigation. Super!
The investigation is not being funded by taxpayers, but by the Cold Case Posse's 501(c)3, a charitable organization.
Breaking Bad Open Thread
Somewhere in Mexico Gus, Jesse and Mike play a spirited game Pin the Tail on the Donkey.
Sunday's episode will be discussed in infinitesimal detail, so if you haven't seen it, and don't want any spoilers, take your aƱejo and move along...
Two Facts
1. David Brooks is still being paid to write a garbage column for the New York Times.
2. David Brooks says he's a sap, but, really, he's a jejune, wearisome, sanctimonious concern troll of such profound tedium that to actually be a sap would be a dynamic improvement of exponential proportions.
2. David Brooks says he's a sap, but, really, he's a jejune, wearisome, sanctimonious concern troll of such profound tedium that to actually be a sap would be a dynamic improvement of exponential proportions.
Photo of the Day
A man who is active-duty in the Navy, and only gave his name as Matt, wears a shirt being signed by others that reads "I survived DADT." After years of debate and months of final preparations, the military ban on openly gay servicemembers has officially been lifted today. [AP Photo]This is a cause for celebration. Yay!
Still: There are servicemembers still serving in units where there remains lingering hostility, who yet face pressure to stay closeted. My thoughts are also with them, and my hopes are for every corner of military culture to catch up with the policy as quickly as possible.
What We Have Here Is a Failure to Expect More
[Trigger warning for homophobia; bullying.]
California Christian Coalition Explains Repeal Effort Against Gay Education Law: Bullying Is Normal.
Among the anti-gay garbage (which I'm not posting because fuck him) spewed by Robert Newman, head of the California Christian Coalition, who are mobilizing to repeal the LGBTQI education bill signed into law this summer by California Governor Jerry Brown, there was this crap piece of justification for opposing the law:
Leaving aside the evident hilaritragedy of a man who defines "the norm" asserting that the bullying of people who "don't fit the norm" isn't an issue, it's terrible that he views bullying as inevitable. Bullying is not inevitable. Bullying is a choice, a behavior born of privilege and intolerance and abuse—all of which are themselves also not inevitabilities in this world.
Someone really needs to suggest to Mr. Newman that he expect more—of others, and of himself.
California Christian Coalition Explains Repeal Effort Against Gay Education Law: Bullying Is Normal.
Among the anti-gay garbage (which I'm not posting because fuck him) spewed by Robert Newman, head of the California Christian Coalition, who are mobilizing to repeal the LGBTQI education bill signed into law this summer by California Governor Jerry Brown, there was this crap piece of justification for opposing the law:
There's always bullying against people who don't fit the norm. It's part of growing up; it's part of maturing. ... I hardly think that bullying is a real issue in schools.Well, isn't it just splendid that Mr. White Straight Christian Privilege thinks that bullying isn't an issue in schools. What a hero.
Leaving aside the evident hilaritragedy of a man who defines "the norm" asserting that the bullying of people who "don't fit the norm" isn't an issue, it's terrible that he views bullying as inevitable. Bullying is not inevitable. Bullying is a choice, a behavior born of privilege and intolerance and abuse—all of which are themselves also not inevitabilities in this world.
Someone really needs to suggest to Mr. Newman that he expect more—of others, and of himself.