Archive for the ‘Everyday Dimwits’ Category

He Returned to the Scene of the Crime

Friday, December 5th, 2008

Dumbass.

Antisocial

Tuesday, December 2nd, 2008

Hmmm…I agree with maybe sixty or seventy percent of this.

Wonder if that means I’m some kind of dickhead or not.

Sick

Monday, November 24th, 2008

Some bets are just stupid and sick.

Hat tip to Boortz.

Memo For File LXXVI

Tuesday, November 11th, 2008

There are four things about people I’ve never been able to figure out. Maybe they’re all related to each other.

1. We Kill God Whenever We Get What We Want

When the very essentials of life require a struggle, and such struggles entail uncertainty, we believe in God. It’s quite unavoidable, you know. It’s said there are no atheists in foxholes; there is some truth in this, but it may be closer to the truth to say there are no atheists on a farm. When every foodstuff and every staple requires effort and every effort involves working waiting and wondering, there has to be prayer. When you pray, you have to send your prayers somewhere.

And then when things are better, and we go too long a time without working waiting and wondering, even for our luxury items…after awhile, God dies. Or disappears. Carrots and cabbages can be had for a ritual, which will be over in fifteen minutes with a quick drive to the corner market and a swipe of the debit card. Cigarettes, too. And candy-coffee. Purified water, tampons, chewing gum, electronic gadgets whose names begin with a lowercase “i” and tote around our personal music collections. Look how smart we are, we don’t have to wonder where we’ll be getting anything. We’re way too smart for God. We think we’ve killed Him, we think this is the result of cool reasoning and logic, but all that’s changed is that the necessity for prayer has momentarily disappeared. And so anybody who still believes in Him, must be a big dummy. Just because we can get sweet coffee drinks with long unpronouncable names whenever we want to.

Saving Your Ass2. We Really Hate Having Our Asses Saved

There’s something going on here that has to do with our own ignorance. We have such a breathtaking and heartfelt gratitude for those who save us from a calamity we know is coming, that we’ve had time to dread. For the savior who spares us from some looming disaster of which we’ve been ignorant the entire time, right up until the danger has passed, we have nothing but spite and scorn. Someone kills a nest of black widows under the equipment your kids play on — if you’ve known about the black widows for a month or two, and haven’t been sure what to do about ’em, you’re all, thankyewthankyewthankyew. If you’re just finding out about ’em, it’s more like, What the hell are you doing in my yard, man? Get outta here. The guy who tells you your tire is flat, just as you’re getting in your car; the guy who calls you on the phone with your wallet in his hand, when you thought it was safely in your pocket. For a single instant there is a flash of inexplicable anger for such well-intentioned strangers — for no good reason. It’s as if, if we refuse to accept the danger, maybe that’ll re-write history so the danger was never there.

Even then…how do you explain the nastiness? Someone saves you from something. Maybe you want to believe in the something, maybe you don’t. If you don’t want to believe in it, and you think you’re right and this fellow who “saved” you is wrong, why do you hate him so? No, don’t give me your pablum about “illegal and unjust war,” etc. George W. Bush is hated by millions upon millions of the people who live in the country he leads; only a tiny fraction among them know anybody serving in the military, let alone anyone who was a casualty. And if they cared about the “Iraqi civilians” one bit they’d have been popping champagne corks over the end of Saddam Hussein’s regime, because when you really care about someone, that’s what you do when they no longer have to live under an oppressive dictator.

It’s the action itself. We have a whole lot of spite for action that takes place early on, in the middle of our debating. When the debating extends past the point where it’s obvious what’s the right thing to do and what’s the wrong thing to do, we get white-hot-pissed at the guy who does what is clearly the right thing while we’re still arguing.

3. We Value Association as an Adequate Substitute for a Workable Plan

It’s true, you know. Once we come together on something, or when we’re even simply invited to come together…no plan is needed. We don’t even need to agree on what the goal is, which is something I’ve always thought of as particularly absurd. How many times does this happen in your daily life. How many times are you told “together…we can do this,” and nobody takes the time or trouble to say a few words about what exactly the “this” is.

It’s quite a simple and durable piece of logic, that if there is a benefit to be realized from laboring on something together, we need some synchronicity here. But the people who are the most enthused about coming together seem to fight any effort to define that. It’s just “this.” We’re all going to work on “this” together.

4. We’re Always Causing the End of the World

This is the one thing on which we’ve been completely consistent, it seems, throughout all of our various civilizations right back to the dawn of recorded history and probably before even that. The end of the world is imminent, and it’s all our fault.

Time was when God was going to get mad at us and figure out His whole experiment was a wash…because of our screw-ups. That was part of the magic, you know — our own culpability, our own sin. Nobody ever trembled at the thought that God might’ve built the human race as a tool, back when He was unaware there was some other resource at His command which would do the same thing, and then one day say to Himself “oh silly Me, this whole thing was unnecessary.” No apprehension that Armageddon would be brought about by some factor completely outside our control. No, the fantasy was always that we caused it. And of course it wouldn’t do to say we’d mess up something that would cause the end of ourselves as individuals, or of our families, or our countries. Nope, never any local damage. That would’ve spoiled the fun. It was always lights-out for the entire human race, with our own fingers on the switch.

Nothing’s changed. Now that God is dead, we have Global Warming. It’ll make the entire planet uninhabitable, and once again…drum roll, please…it’s all our fault.

The millenia tick on by, we believe in God then we don’t, our asses get saved by people we hate…and this stays consistent. We just can’t get away from it.

Streaker Justice

Sunday, November 9th, 2008

Oh my

Sex charge worries streaker in Boulder Pumpkin Run

Now that the general election’s over, let’s get on to more important matters: Justice for the Pumpkin 12.

Recent University of Colorado graduate Eric Rasmussen, 23, is among the 12 runners ticketed Halloween night for indecent exposure after running naked with a wobbly orange squash on their heads along the Pearl Street Mall in Boulder.

If convicted, he and 11 others could be required to register as sex offenders. Like many of the Pumpkin 12, he is finding a lawyer.

Rasmussen said it was his first time streaking. He had a great time – until he saw 12 police awaiting him and 150 other naked people at the courthouse.
:
“I was under the assumption there would be safety in numbers – it didn’t occur to me that it would be OK for the police just to take 12 people and disregard the other couple hundred.”

Now that I have some measure of empathy for a stranger looking at this kind of conviction, I must admit — and it pleases me to admit this — I’m ignorant of the details involved. That’s a lifetime, interstate thing, is it not? It would have to be, wouldn’t it?

Folks in the law profession are assuring this fellow that the judge will likely let him off, or at least, not force him to reprise John Turturro’s role in The Big Lebowski. That doesn’t impress me as an adequate protection. I’m sure some judges are wonderful, but I just voted for a couple of judges Tuesday evening, and they were both running unopposed. So who’s swinging that gavel? It seems to all come down to that.

I’m left wondering who’s swinging something else. Who streaks? We live, today, in a time in which hanging a calendar in your private work cubicle with pictures of women wearing tasteful bathing suits is thought to be “going over the line.” So tearing through a public venue in your birthday suit just to be a bad boy, with the curse of Je-soos dangling over your head like the Sword of Damoclese, I guess, would be a result of a) intoxication b) knowledge that you already have to ring doorbells in your neighborhood, and therefore have nothing to lose, or c) profound recklessness bordering on stupidity.

You know, this movie has a judge-scene in it. It’s not likely to invigorate anybody’s faith in the legal system; maybe it should be required viewing at the UC, and in the rest of our colleges.

(Note to self: Scribble down that link somewhere, you’re going to be needing it quite a lot over the next four years.)

Mama’s Milk Ice Cream

Friday, September 26th, 2008

Ice CreamYummy!

PETA wants world-famous Ben & Jerry’s Homemade Ice Cream to tap nursing moms, rather than cows, for the milk used in its ice cream.

People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals is asking the ice cream maker to begin using breast milk in its products instead of cow’s milk, saying it would reduce the suffering of cows and calves and give ice cream lovers a healthier product.

The idea got a cool reception Thursday from Ben & Jerry’s officials, the company’s customers and even La Leche League International, the world’s oldest breast-feeding support organization, which promotes the practice — for babies, anyway.

PETA wrote a letter to company founders Ben Cohen and Jerry Greenfield on Tuesday, telling them cow’s milk is hazardous and that milking them is cruel.

“If Ben and Jerry’s replaced the cow’s milk in its ice cream with breast milk, your customers — and cows — would reap the benefits,” wrote Tracy Reiman, executive vice president of the animal rights advocacy group.

Wise, wise, PETA. How in the world did the rest of us have the brains to get dressed in the morning and start walkin’ around, before you came along? Please, do interfere with our lives some more. Or try to. Fun to watch, and on your end, I’m sure it beats the heck out of a real job.

H/T: The Saloon.

Life Imitates a Jack Lemmon Movie

Thursday, September 4th, 2008

Me, this morning:

What is in the water that left-wingers drink? Their ideological opponents say something, and their first response is to be horrified and indignant; this is to be expected when being horrified and indignant is the one weapon in your arsenal you’ve been hauling out most often over the last 75 years or so.

The greatest (non-porn) movie to bring to a bachelor party the modern world has ever seen, How To Murder Your Wife…right after the solution to the Case of the Faberge Navel. Time index 0:13:58:

Charles: Mr. Lampson himself is terribly upset.
Stanley: Of course he’s upset. He’s a lawyer, he’s paid to be upset.

I’m just shocked, dismayed and horrified!

No I’m not. I’m thirsty. Goin’ out for a beer run.

Ever think maybe people reacting with phony outrage to things might be the real cause of global warming?

A More Serious Voter Test

Saturday, August 30th, 2008

About a week ago I put out a voter test, because contrary to popular belief, the United States Constitution does not guarantee a right to vote. That test was tongue-in-cheek; it didn’t make much of a point about anything, other than that we have a lot of extreme dimwits walking around voting.

That seems a perfectly innocent state of affairs — until you stop and realize everyone gets one vote and only one vote. So when a mouth-breather goes out and casts a vote without knowing what he’s doing, it cancels out your vote, along with all the research you might have conducted behind it. You might as well not have engaged in any of it.

But anyway. What follows is a far more serious test. It raises a point for each of the ten questions on it…along with an eleventh point. And the eleventh point is, we have a lot of people walking around who are not stupid, not dimwits, in fact are perfectly productive and intelligent people. But they don’t put too much thought into voting. That problem is worse than the problem with dimwits voting, because these folks understand they’re not stupid, and they’re right. They’re intelligent. But thoughtless.

So give it a try, to make sure you’re not one of them.

1. When the minimum wage is increased from a lower rate of X to a higher rate of Y
a. Everybody who previously earned something between X and Y, now earns Y
b. All jobs that pay between X and Y, are outlawed

2. When it is illegal to own guns
a. Guns disappear
b. People who follow the law can’t have guns, but people who don’t follow the law, might

3. When the tax rate on a commodity is raised 10%, you can count on collecting 10% more revenue from this tax
a. True
b. False

4. People hurt and kill other people because
a. They’re impoverished
b. They are lacking in respect for human life

5. What we know about illegal aliens is
a. That they’re here to work hard, follow the law, and take care of their families
b. We don’t know anything about them, including who they really are, because they’re illegal

6. If you run an office with ten black women working in it, and two of them quit, and you hire two white guys in their place, you have
a. Decreased the diversity of the office
b. Increased the diversity of the office

7. If you inherit money from someone who paid taxes while they were earning it, and estate taxes are collected, that money has been taxed
a. Once
b. Twice

8. If your husband asks you nicely to bring him a beer, and you refuse to do it, you are
a. Standing up for the rights of women everywhere
b. Being an obstinate, irascible bitch

9. When people engage in discrimination, the rest of us have to
a. Force them to stop doing it, until the day discrimination is gone forever
b. Draw our own conclusions about their judgment and character

10. American values are
a. Separation of church and state, equal protection under the law, womens’ right to choose, fair and equal distribution of wealth, diversity
b. Privacy of religion, free exercise thereof, inalienable rights granted by a Creator, equal protection under the law, freedom over security

Scoring:
Ten percentage points for every question answered with “b”.

90-100: Go ahead and vote
70- 80: Vote with caution
50- 60: Discuss issues with friend or relative who got higher score, then vote
40 and lower: Don’t vote; there are wonderful reruns on the idjit box on Tuesday nights

Heart Grow Fonder, Huh?

Friday, August 22nd, 2008

Via Karol, an article comes to our attention, written by some kind of travel advice columnist type guy, for spoiled rotten brats.

It may seem like paradise – getting away from it all with your loved one to that beach hotel on the Cote d’Azur or an idyllic island in the Greek archipelago for a glorious week or two.

And that’s the rub. Periods of unstructured time – the break from routine – can play havoc with relationships. If you are used to having time apart, being together all day, every day, for several days can send the best relationship into an acrimonious tailspin.

I have known relationships to survive, not so much in spite of, but because of, the regular absence of one partner on business trips.

Absence really can make the heart grow fonder. Hence the adage, “I married him for better or for worse; but not for lunch.”

Monsters.

Sorry, I have bad memories about this. Those are from half a lifetime ago; nowadays, I can’t even imagine being coupled-up with someone across from whom I’d desire that kind of distance. At that point, a woman becomes nothing more than a name. Perhaps a warm body to keep in bed at night; and, one may have the sense of phony decency to avoid sleeping with others, but only to avoid social stigma. What’s the point, really? How much affection can you have for someone, without wanting to be around them?

I have trouble keeping my cool about this, so offensive do I find it. It really isn’t so much old, bad memories, as much as more modern, in-the-moment fatigue. It’s the same thing I was bitching and bellyaching about over here, really.

It isn’t hard at all to figure out what today’s Eleventh Plague of Egypt is. We have been consumed with a passion, to get all the props and accolades for instigating, reciprocating and nurturing relationships with those around us — but to accept none of the associated responsibilities, burdens, and just plain ol’ pains-in-the-ass. We want to be known for our “People Skills” without having to work for them.

How many are ready to sympathize with this plight of “Too Much Time With Him In Aruba” or wherever — but at the same time — are ready to jump in and hiss & spit their venom at Sen. Gramm for his Nation of Whiners crack?

Gramm earned for himself a Shakespearean brand of protest, from where I see things. His comment wandered far too close to the truth.

Lifeboat Banned for Health & Safety — Three Hours After Rescue

Friday, August 15th, 2008

Via Rottweiler, a sordid tale of rules trumping things they ought not. It involves a rescue boat, and it seems the time line looks like this:

June 11: General purpose semi-inflatable lifeboat at Hope Cove suspended from active service by the Maritime and Coast Guard Agency because of concerns about the structural integrity of the hull.

August 12: A 13-year-old schoolgirl is swept out to sea 150 yards. Hope Grove Station Officer Ian Pedrick asks the Coast Guard for permission to use the boat to rescue her, then loses radio contact.

What happens next is where it starts to get a little silly…

The four-strong crew braved heavy surf to help save the girl, but their courage was not appreciated by their bosses at the Maritime and Coastguard Agency.

Their boat has been confiscated and locked up, and their station officer and his crew, who are all volunteers, are now under investigation following the rescue.

Now villagers say a holidaymaker could die because of what they say are “health and safety rules gone mad”.

I’m impressed that, if you read the original article to the end, you see some pencil-neck bureaucrat is dishing out some sound bite justifying this lunacy by saying “The health and safety of the boat crews and those who they may render assistance to is of paramount importance.” What a fascinating piece of logical warp this is. So let me get this straight — if the boat isn’t there, the swimmer dies, but of course the swimmer does not fall under the definition of “those who they may render assistance to” and so, in that manner, “those who they may render assistance to” are doing just great because the MCA had the wisdom and foresight to make sure this dead swimmer, who is dead, was not being rendered assistance.

I realize this is an imperfect analogy because when the boat caught up to the girl, it seems she was being rendered assistance by a diver. But I don’t really know what exactly that means. There is nothing in the article to indicate there was serious merit to these concerns over the hull integrity; the boat had been credited with over 91 rescues without any safety-related incident; and common sense seems to declare rather forcefully that a swimmer in trouble will have a much better chance with the boat than without it.

The operation was a complete success; the patient died.

Misha titles his own post “Let ‘er drown!” And that reminds me of a line from one of the greatest war movies ever made:

Aid: This is from General Alexander, sir…reminding you that you are not to take Palermo.

Lt. Gen. George S. Patton, Jr.: Send him a message, Cod. Ask him if he wants me to give it back.

Morons

Wednesday, August 13th, 2008

The Continuing Adventures of Shushman

Monday, August 11th, 2008

About a year ago I daydreamed on the pages of this blog, which nobody actually reads anyway, about what superpowers I would want to have if I were a superhero. The superhero I invented was the dream of middle-aged men everywhere: SHUSHMAN. In my superhero daydream, I run around town in a leotard with a towel wrapped around my neck and a big “S” on my chest, and a mask over my face. If some convertible drives by me with the bass cranked way up with that “BOOM…BOOM…BOOM CHICKA BOOM” buzzing away, I just wave my hand at it and — glorious, glorious silence.

Ahhhhh…….

ShushI’m the first one who’s ever had that fantasy? Hah. First one to write it down, maybe. But you want to be Sushman too, you know you do. A cone of silence, thrown down in a fraction of a second, around…anything. Car commercials on the boob tube cranked up four times as loud as the program you were watching. Bratty kids in the grocery store. The guy at the company picnic who had way too much to drink. A randomly selected moron with lots of syllables coming out of his gullet but with nothing to say. Shushman waves his hand and restores order.

Just doin’ my job, citizen.

I said at the time I’d give up immortality, flying, all that good stuff if I could just wave at a television set (admit it, the remote control is always a good fifteen feet away when the situation arises), and instantly be enveloped by that golden silence.

My son protests that this would be useless for, say, foiling a bank robbery.

My reply is that at least they’d be forced to rob the damn bank quietly. That’s just kind of where I am right now. You want to build a nuclear bomb and threaten the entire planet — go ahead. Just don’t make any noise.

But I must say, The Squeeze and I went to Lake Tahoe this weekend to meet Kidzmom and pick up my son for the school year. And after being around these things called “people” for the first time in a few months, I have a confession to make about Shushman. My confession is…he’s going to have just a few more super powers. Not many. Just a few.

Shushman, for example, can do interesting things with car alarms. He’s got a mental-telepathy ability to figure out where the owner of the car is, with the alarm that’s going off. He can teleport himself to wherever that owner is, be he asleep or be he awake, Then he can grab the keys that go to that vehicle and ram them where the sun don’t shine, as they say.

And then of course he can silence that car alarm.

Shushman can point at a young man’s trousers, and telepathically yank them up above his butt cheeks. From up to sixty feet away. Point…yank. Yes, this superpower is still needed in 2008. Because droopy pants are still out there after all these years. I’m likin’ that superpower. Call it a long-distance wedgie.

Shushman can point at a skateboard, and make its wheels square. Yeah, we need that one too.

When Shushman is walking along and he sees a wad of sticky gum lying on the sidewalk, waiting to adhere itself onto an innocent pedestrian’s shoe…he can cast a magic spell on the gum. The gum will then pry itself off the sidewalk, fly through the air, hunt down the original chewer who was responsible for so carelessly discarding it, and re-insert itself back into his mouth.

Shushman can point at two people having a conversation across a great distance, like say for example across a parking lot from each other, and use telekinesis to force the two conversationalists to come within ten feet of each other so they don’t have to keep asking each other to repeat themselves.

Shushman can point at a little tiny annoying li’l yip-dog being carried around in a purse, and make it instantly weigh a hundred times more. Not expand in size. Just weigh more. Arf! **klunk**

The other thing Shushman can do? I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now. In a grocery store, Shushman has the ability to seize telekinetic control of a grocery cart sitting in the middle of an aisle…and shove it to one side. With clumsy brute force, not surgical precision. Shove it so it makes a good dent in about three rows of cardboard Corn Flakes boxes.

Shushman can lift cars about twenty feet off the ground. Only when they’re moving, though. In the passing lane. Five miles below the speed limit. Hey, maybe he’ll put ’em back down again right-side-up, maybe he won’t.

Levels of Experience

Tuesday, August 5th, 2008

Heh. Colorado Governor Bill Ritter downplays his own appeal as a potential VP candidate running with He Who Walks On Water. I’m not worthy…I’m not worthy…

All proceeds according to plan, until Ritter tastes toenail.

…I think there are a lot of things that he has to take into consideration. I’ve been governor for 18 months. My experience before that was as a district attorney. I loved being a district attorney…but I don’t think that’s what Barack Obama’s looking for in a vice president. I’ve been governor for 18 months. It’s been a great experience. But it’s just 18 months…Obama has to think about experience…levels of experience…
:
Caller Richard from Windsor: “Governor, you said 18 months’ experience wasn’t enough experience as governor to be the vice president. Would you want to contrast that with the 143 days’ experience Obama as senator before he decided he had enough experience to be president.”

Ritter: All I can tell ya is I am a fan of Barack Obama’s. Met him in 2004 during his campaign for Senate…You meet him and discover there’s something very different about him. That’s all I’ll say.

This brings to mind a couple of the things I know about people, minus what I was told when I was a child:

15. People who have been duped by something and have come to realize it, want everyone else to be duped in the same way.
16. People who are overly concerned about their emotions, don’t want anyone else to be overly concerned with thinking.

You Think I Bitch About Women…

Tuesday, July 15th, 2008

…and the stupid, insipid movies, Broadway plays, musicals and commercials that pander to them — all you people who think I put way too much importance on this stuff — read that chick Rachel. She’s opining about some kind of house-hunting “reality” TV show. Maybe I’ve already seen it, maybe I haven’t, I can’t tell ’em apart anymore and I really don’t give a good goddamn. But this does ring a bell.

This makes me want to kill some bitches.

They are so proud of the fact that they own 50 pairs of shoes and two metric tons of cocktail dresses, and that they’ve shown their husband who’s boss by hogging all the closet space. You can see it in their eyes, every time, how cutely sassy they think they’re being. It is absolutely revolting.

I also love how they make a big deal out of pretending that they care what hubby thinks. Some of them are so brazenly unashamed – and proud – of how thoroughly they’ve emasculated their man that they even look right in the camera with a dull-eyed evil grin and say things like, “I like to let him think his opinions count, too.” Die, lady. Just die.

I made a decision, the one & only time I got divorced, not to get back into the marriage thing until the lady in question and society as a whole and most especially the law all agreed that the point of the exercise was for the man and the woman to share a life together. Not to make the woman rich by legalizing her theft of the man’s assets. Not to fatten up the divorce-law profession, and all the parasitic divorce sub-industries. Not to make women everywhere feel good by giving them a forum in which they could dispense and receive tips and tricks about how to make the bastard’s life more miserable. But to form a foundation for a united household…like what marriage used to be all about.

I think maybe we’re just about there, or headed in that direction. I got a woman all picked out, and I can trust her. The law? Well…I’m in California. So that’s a problem.

Society? It’s pretty much turned around. But this thing Rachel is talking about, is the one big exception. You know that timeless story about two guys who get together and they’re complete strangers, neither one knows what the other’s religion is, or favorite sports’ team, or political persuasion. But you can always make friends with another dude by saying “man, women are nuts, huh?” The women have a handy counterpart to that, I’m afraid; you just saw it. “I like to let him think his opinions count, too.” With a smirk. Oh, how droll. Presto! Two women with different backgrounds are instant buddies now! It’s a match for the “women are nuts” thing — worse than that, though, it excuses it.

I saw it on some new half-hour sitcom called “The Bill Engvall Show” or some such. Ah, here it is. A great candidate for the Sickest Show on the Air award. The pilot episode had some extended dialog wherein the wifey fooled the hubby into thinking he’d promised to give up watching the ball game so he could take her shopping on Saturday morning. As he confusedly staggered out of the kitchen to go get changed, the missus revealed that he didn’t really promise that, she just made it up. Hah hah! Isn’t that great? He’s the puppet, she’s the string. Hilarious! Can’t wait to see what comes next!

++Ca-LICK++! Whoops. I touched that dial.

This is what really gets under my skin about this: It’s anesthetizing. It starts out funny…and then, in a manner that would make Saturday Night Live proud…gradually, the jokes lose clever edge, but not their appeal. Eventually there’s really nothing funny about ’em, and people are just watching episode after episode where the man is made into a clueless boob, there’s no wit, no story, not even a twist-ending. No reason to laugh, other than the laugh track communicating the expectation that this is what you’re supposed to be doing.

Maybe that’s why it’s so popular to beat up on the man on prime-time TV — the mind-dulling effect it has on people. This would make economic sense. If I’m a sitcom producer, I’m going to bet there’s better-than-even odds that

1. By the third season, fourth at the latest, my new show is going to have been put up on the chopping block many times, assuming it’s still going at all by that time;
2. Inside of those three years, there is going to be a writer’s strike.

So it makes sense to have a built-in tranquilizing agent. Some meandering theme that dumbs the audience down, and dulls their sensibilities; makes ’em slow to realize the jokes stopped being funny.

Make Me A Samrich!Of course sometimes, the show doesn’t even try to be funny…opting instead to wallow around in the muck of “special” episode sermonizing, instructing the audience to believe men should live to do things for women, but women shouldn’t ever, ever, ever do anything for a man.

What household needs that kind of attitude problem?

So yeah, Rachel’s right. You change the rules of the game too much, and pretty soon, the guys don’t want to play anymore. There is a solution, though; it’s right in Rachel’s post title. You can stop watching television. I’ve often wondered what that would be like — wife gets home from the doctor, announces a special surprise, we’ll be hearing the pitter patter of little feet in a few months, and THAT AFTERNOON the television is ripped out. Never to be hooked up again until the kid’s moved out of the house.

That would probably be the most well-adjusted dude or gal ever to step foot on God’s green earth. A borderline superhero. If it was a girl, she’d happily make sandwiches for her man. If it was a guy…uh…well, he’d let ‘er.

Did that bother someone? Sorry. Feminists, you can just BLOW ME. Every morning I’m making coffee for my gal. Every evening, she makes dinner even if she’s been working. I water her tomato plants (even though I hate tomatoes). She straightens up my son’s bedroom so he has places to put his stuff. It’s called doing things for each other.

But this isn’t really just a sex-role problem. It comes from that cheap, easy, uninspired, utility-grade “comedy” in which you toss some guff at the family patriarch, and you have an instant punchline. I remember this spring my son made a friend in the neighborhood, a boy of about eight or nine. They ate their snacks and played their video games until one day, the boy told me to shut up. He thought it was the funniest thing in the world. Until he found out he wasn’t welcome to come around anymore, short of apologizing and promising never to do it again. My boy took care of laying down that ultimatum.

We simply do not tolerate this brand of humor in our household. And I do not understand households that put up with it. It isn’t entertaining, it isn’t about entertaining people, it isn’t about humor, it’s motivated around the personal agendas and pet peeves of complete strangers, there’s a lot of rage wrapped up in it, and it just isn’t funny. But worst of all, it’s a brain-killer. The women and children who delight in their false-victories over this kind of slapstick, and the grown-up so-called “male” who somehow tolerates it, over time they all become drooling idiots. It isn’t healthy and it isn’t natural.

Who Thinks Up This Garbage?

Friday, July 11th, 2008

That’s gotta be just about the sickest thing I think I’ve ever read, thank you very much.

Memo For File LXIX

Wednesday, July 9th, 2008

Item!

Former work colleague Deanna Troi (not her real name) writes in with a triple-threat of an idea:

Three world problems solved……your thoughts and hey maybe info for your blog

Ok here goes ~~

1. The plastic floating in the ocean

2. The melting Polar Ice Cap

3. The increasing unemployment

MY PLAN….WELL………..of course you know its a combination of all three…….

Take all the plastic garbage and recycle it into a large plastic blanket…….in sections………..put it over the ice, melting ice, former ice at the Artic Pole…….this would create a large pool cover, blocking the sun from melting by insulating it .

This would generate jobs to gather it, create/manufacture it, and maintain it.


Ok….I know it sound silly and simple but……it “could” work……don’t you think…..?

Later Gator

Well, my initial thought had to do with something I’d been noticing for a long time: People in positions of authority, at some time or another, tell just about everyone you care to name to (to be polite about it) FECK OFF. John McCain’s said it to conservatives plenty of times, and Barack Obama just did it to our buddy Glenn Greenwald, to Greenwald’s great annoyance. But never environmentalists. Nope, environmentalists, who exist for the purpose of stopping things and making nothing go (except environmental movements), pretty much get every little thing they want, all the time. Big things, little things, in between things. Nobody in a position of authority ever tells a tree hugger to FECK OFF. With gas up toward five bones a gallon, there is more pressure now to show ’em the heave-ho than there ever has been…it might happen…but it hasn’t just yet.

And so it occurred to me that ignoring environmentalists would, directly or indirectly, address all three of these. Like Samuel L. Jackson said in The Incredibles, why don’t we do what we told our wives we were gonna do, just to shake things up a bit? — Why don’t we tell environmentalists to stick it where the sun don’t shine, just for a change of pace?

Another Item!

Gerard saw the clip we linked of that extraordinarily impressive montage of “I’m Not Here To Make Friends”…and he had an idea very much like Counselor Troi’s…

Could somebody please raise the money and gather the will to put all of these pathetic assholes in one single location and call in an overwhelming napalm strike on it? Please?

We’ll keep that one in mind.

Yet another Item!

Jessica over at Feministing, long an advocate of the hyper-populist “Can I Get An Amen Here” brand of feminism, which is nothing but a long procession of bitter hostile trial balloons sent up by feminist individuals for the endorsement of feminist groups along the lines of “I think this should be screeched at, can I get some help???”

Well. Jessica would like to let loose the dogs of “Can I Get An Amen Here?” feminism, upon some of those who practice it. Especially the ones who have been drinking before appearing on live and televised interviews.

For those of you who haven’t already been following it, here’s what went down.

Moe and Tracie appeared on Lizz’s show drunk. Very drunk, it seems. You can watch the whole video here, and the more controversial clips here and here. I was pretty much appalled by the whole interview. But it was the commentary about rape, abortion and birth control that have garnered the most criticism…The gist of it is Moe and Tracie said some extremely offensive and uninformed things – especially about rape – that they’re now being taken to task for. (They were later said to be jokes, but no one in the audience laughed.)
:
Here’s the short version for those who don’t feel like reading this monster of a post: 1) Whether or not you say you represent feminism, when you write about the subject to a ridiculously large audience, openly identify as a feminist, and make appearances to talk about feminism – you are taking on responsibility for the way feminism is portrayed. 2) It’s awesome to use irony and humor as a tool – but if you’re not using it in a way that hurts women, is it really worth it?

This ties in, because I think Counselor Troi’s concerns about the floating plastic are an apt metaphor for the feminist movement. In the same way you can’t viably entertain any sort of plan that involves sticking a sort of giant pool-cleaner tool into the Pacific Ocean and bundle up all those tiny bits of plastic, you can’t nail down what the feminist movement is all about either. You find a feminist who gets caught unabashedly, unapologetically and unashamedly hating men…you raise the concerns this gives you about the feminist movement to another feminist…and you get back this doe-eyed innocent look, Oh no, I’m not all about that, I just want equal pay for equal worth!

And it is this kind of nail-jello-to-tree-ism that has given the feminist movement enormous benefit throughout the decades. They have been able to advocate the most hardcore, borderline-insane nonsense — like, for example, we need to believe Anita Hill over Clarence Thomas because “women don’t lie about this stuff” (That’s one of the worst examples, but there are others). Patently absurd positions like that one, are owned when it is convenient, and then jettisoned when convenient. The feminist movement ends up being a rather hodge-podge, disjointed, undefined pastiche of floating debris, just like the Great Plastic Soup out in the ocean. It can’t be criticized because it can’t be defined.

And now poor young Jessica has realized it is this lack of a endo- or exo-skeleton that has landed the feminist movement in trouble, so she seeks to lay down some rules about “taking on responsibility for the way feminism is portrayed.” Sorry, sweetie. You’re trying to close the barn door long after the horse has left. Feminism, in 2008, is about intellectual lawlessness. It is about extending the indestructible umbrella of political cover of “Equal Pay For Equal Worth” over the rigid, hardcore extremist types who don’t deserve such cover…the “All Men Are Potential Rapists” brand of feminists. They are, by design, all part of the Great Plastic Amoeba of feminism that has no shape, has no structure, has no rules, and therefore cannot be faulted. What dear Jessica is trying to do, is roughly akin to making a pet out of the world’s largest jellyfish, and trying to saddle it up.

Another Bear on a PipelineSo Counselor Troi…here are my thoughts.

1. Scoop up the Great Plastic Soup for those bits, as best you’re able;
2. Make a giant plastic bulls-eye out of it;
3. Take it to the Arctic where all the ice is supposed to be melting down;
4. Put our drunk feminists on the bulls-eye along with the environmentalists who won’t let us build any power plants or drill for oil;
5. Add to those, all the reality show contestants who “aren’t here to make friends”;
6. Like Gerard said. Napalm the sucker. That takes care of the plastic, the drunk feminists, the enviro-Nazis, and the vapid silly contestants.
7. And the ice.
8. Jessica will be much less stressed-out, too.
9. Plus, the contestants won’t make any friends, which they didn’t want to do anyway.
10. Check back in a year, I’ll betcha there’s plenty of ice, and plenty of polar bears to go with.
11. I got a feeling our population of brain-dead cliche-spouting reality show contestants will also have replenished (although I’m not sure about that).
12. And jobs galore. Especially if we make an annual habit out of it.

I just love the smell of napalm in the morning.

The Average American

Friday, July 4th, 2008

The IQ scores have been going up three points a decade, and yet

The average American can name all Three Stooges but not all three branches of the federal government.

Yikes! Hopenchange…

.22

Thursday, July 3rd, 2008

A little girl made the eleven o’clock news because she has a bullet in her head. Doctors just failed to extract it from her skull so tonight she has to go to bed with it for the first time.

The local newscaster showed us what the bullet looks like by holding up what I recognized as a .22 long rifle cartridge in front of the camera. The next shot was a close-up of the little girl’s head with the bloody wound in plain view. Unmistakable implication: What that guy just showed you, is buried in there.

Not explicitly stated, but nothing offered to the contrary.

How does this nonsense make it to air?

Following-Up on the Gloucester Pregnancy Thing

Saturday, June 28th, 2008

Sorry Becky. I do think your point about “yellow journalism” has a grain of truth behind it; I’m certainly not saying Time Magazine was well-served running with this “pact” based on what little evidence they had. I agree they should probably take another look at that process.

But your skepticism was a little bit too solid. Your demand was that we forget how human nature works, and those things never work out very well. This seems to have happened and been validated as a “pact,” in all the ways that matter to me anyway.

None of the rising juniors TIME identified as being members of the pact have come forward publicly, but nine Gloucester High students have talked to TIME about the girls who decided to get pregnant. Some described the pregnant teens as having little parental supervision. “They could stay out all night if they wanted,” says a classmate, whose parents requested that she not be identified by name. Others noted a herd mentality. “I think the plan was a lot about peer pressure,” says Nicole Jewell, a rising junior who describes herself as being friends with some of the girls involved. “But a lot of girls were excited to be a part of it.”

So did the girls make a formal pact to get pregnant together or not? Without comment from any of the pregnant students themselves, it may be impossible to determine exactly what they agreed to, and when. So far, the only school official to use the word pact is Sullivan, who reportedly now says he does not recall who told him about the pact in the first place. But what does seem clear based on TIME’s reporting is that some of the girls in question did at least discuss the idea of getting pregnant at the same time, and that too little was done to educate the girls on the potential ramifications of that choice.

Price Cap on Gas

Tuesday, June 24th, 2008

Via Boortz, a frightening snippet from someone who (I presume) is as free to vote as you and me.

Why not speak about taxing the windfall profits of the oil companies, or legislating a cap on the price of gasoline via legislation?

If capped at $2 a gallon, ExxonMobil profits would still be well higher than $20 billion a year. Why on earth do they need to make twice that and bring the economy of this nation to its knees in the process?

Capping the price of gas puts dollars in everyone’s pocket, and helps reduce the cost of all products we consume, which further bolsters the economy. It’s a common sense solution that works across the board.

Yeah, like, uh, do the numbers! If gas cost $2 a gallon, you’d have money in your pocket! Like…a bunch! Whatsa matta with you, you stupid or something?

Next, we repeal that law of gravity.

Q: A blonde ordered a pizza and the clerk asked if he should cut it in six or twelve pieces.
A: “Six, please. I could never eat twelve pieces.”

Girl with Open Mouth

Thursday, June 19th, 2008

Does she ever close it? I don’t know if it is what it looks like, but it brings back bad memories. Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah…

Still not as bad as what has become one of my favorites: Posing for the camera…smiling into it…with a cell phone pressed against your ear.

Grim Start to Bike Week

Thursday, June 12th, 2008

I love this “do-this-do-that-week” stuff. It’s not just green commuting. It’s awareness months, it’s take-your-blank-to-work-day — all that stuff. Of course it’s about getting attention and not engaging any process that operates according to cause-and-effect. And that’s fine. But the people who promote these promotable events, get pretty lippy to the effect that it’s about engaging cause-and-effect. They get pugnacious and combative with anyone who dares to suggest otherwise.

But if it was cause-and-effect, and it was smart, there wouldn’t be a “week.” You’d do it all the time.

Nevertheless, a good argument can be made that there’s no harm in these things. That’s right, isn’t it? Even if my point stands about contrasting the getting of attention, against real human achievement — once we acknowledge that, it remains benign, right? I used to think so…I may have to reconsider now (H/T: Boortz).

One bicyclist was dead and another injured two days into a week promoting safe bicycle commuting in the Chicago area.

A white bicycle on the 900 block of North La Salle stood in tribute Tuesday to Clinton Miceli, the fifth bicyclist killed in a collision with a vehicle in Chicago this year.

Miceli, 22, was cycling in the bike lane on La Salle around 6:45 p.m. Monday when he slammed into an open SUV door, was thrown from his bike, then struck by a second car. The driver of the Nissan Xterra who opened the door into Miceli’s path was cited for opening a car door in traffic, police said.

A second rider collided with a CTA bus around 8:50 a.m. Tuesday at Broadway and Patterson in Lake View. That cyclist was taken to Advocate Illinois Masonic Medical Center in serious condition, a Fire Department spokesman said. The CTA driver was cited for failure to yield and suspended without pay, authorities said.

Like a lot of folks who are convinced the global warming thing and the carbon cap-and-trade thing are scams, I have a bike, I keep it in shape, and I ride mine more than most others ride theirs. Yes, you read that right. People who believe in the globular wormening climate-change ManBearPig, don’t ride bikes. They drive big fat cars, and they drive ’em everywhere. Oops, outta milk. The convenience store is 200 feet away, I’ll climb in the Lincoln Navigator.

Anyway, I digress.

I work pretty hard to avoid mingling with cars, if I can. Cars don’t see you. If you’re forced to do a move that depends on the car seeing you, for you to get through it alive, then what you’ve got to do is engage the driver’s attention through his windshield and get an acknowledging nod. And if you’re forced to do that — remember, you only have one shot at this stuff — it’s best just to go somewhere else.

Training is good. Most of us have been walked through this kind of thing in fifth grade or thereabouts, but very few of us have had occasion to practice it since those days. Classes, with reflective tape, bike lamps, vests, helmets, reflector mirrors.

I have an even more effective suggestion though: Don’t have “weeks” for this stuff. If we can come to an agreement that such events are about getting attention and not about actually fixing anything, I would hope we’d come to a consequent agreement that this isn’t what the environment needs, and it certainly isn’t what the climate change — yes, I’ll say it because it’s true — political movement needs. C’mon, get real. Everyone who’s paying it attention, not the sneering eyeball-rolling kind I have ready for it but rather the respectful attention it craves, is already paying it as much attention as they’re gonna.

And a “week” has a starting event. During which time, traffic, both cars and bikes, have to adapt to the intermingling. That means people who don’t know what they need to know, have to learn it the hard way. Clinton Miceli paid the ultimate price to make that happen. It’s no different from computer programming, you know — the screw-ups happen where one process hands the data off to another. Where things change. Where a buffer is flushed to disk and a bunch of counters are accordingly reset. If it’s something that’s just a perpetual thing, you don’t have this. And then, maybe this poor fella would still be around today.

And while I can appreciate that Mr. Miceli has emitted his last pound of carbon and thus saved the environment from his own portion of “human caused climate change,” somehow I don’t think that’s the way this is supposed to work. The climate change movement is not supposed to be a eugenics movement.

Unless maybe it is. Hmmm…human-inducted climate change…gotta save the planet…hmmm.

Mission accomplished?

Yeah, Affairs Are Good!

Monday, June 9th, 2008

Slut.

Mira Kirshenbaum, who has over 30 years’ experience as a marriage therapist, says the ‘right kind’ of affair can be a positive thing, acting to “jolt people from their inertia”.

The author of When Good People Have Affairs, published this week, argues that because society has so far failed to have a sympathetic discussion of infidelity, the positive sides of cheating have been ignored.

However, she insists that most cheating spouses should never own up, because revealing the infidelity is more damaging than keeping quiet.

“Sometimes an affair can be the best way for the person who has been unfaithful to get the information and impetus to change,” she told The Observer.

“I’m not encouraging affairs, but underlying the complicated mess is a kind of deep and delicate wisdom. It’s an insight that something isn’t working and needs to change.”

Most philanderers are good, kind people, she argues, who are seeking real happiness and love.

Uh, yeah Mira…for themselves. That seems to be a little detail you’re missing.

And after thirty years? Someone’s a little slow on the uptake…can’t help but wonder why.

This isn’t limited to sex and marriage infidelity. It’s a rule that extends to all forms of betrayal. People who counsel others to be more tolerant and understanding of it, have a consistent “blind spot” when it comes to envisioning themselves as the ones betrayed. Do as I say…not as I do.

Ms Kirshenbaum, clinical director of the Chestnut Hill Institute, a psychotherapy and research centre in Boston, Massachusetts, says her book is not aimed at ‘creeps’ who think they can cheat with impunity, but at decent people who know they have made a mistake.

“These people are suffering terribly and need to be relieved of their sense of guilt and shame because those emotions are paralysing,” she said.

“If handled right, an affair can be therapeutic, give clarity and jolt people from their inertia,” she said.

“You could think of it as a radical but necessary medical procedure. If your marriage is in cardiac arrest, an affair can be a defibrillator.”

Sick. All I can do is sputter away in disgust, so I’ll defer to KramericaWallet‘s comments in the FARK thread:

That is wrong on so many levels.

One of them is that it’s ridiculous to:

(a) Say that, after you’ve had an affair, you should not feel guilty about it and see it as positive and therapeutic, while at the same time
(b) Claiming that this is not supposed to encourage people to have affairs.

Come on, if you’re giving an easy way to justify something in retrospect, it’s a de facto way to justify it ahead of time.

Likewise:
Saying that if you have had an affair you must not tell the person you cheated on is simply indulging people’s most selfish impulses. Again, this is both before and after having an affair. If you’ve decided ahead of time that there’s nothing wrong with lying to your spouse about having had an affair and in fact it’s the morally required thing to do, you’ll be a lot less reluctant to have an affair (otherwise, you might not want to do it because you wouldn’t want to the lie to them or feel guilty about lying to them).

The author of When Good People Have Affairs, published this week
On the other hand, you can definitely make some money by selling books to make bad people feel better about themselves. Just make sure their spouses don’t accidentally find this book lying around the house.

Yeah. This.

Revealing Billboard

Wednesday, June 4th, 2008

Trouble is, people nowadays have no sense of shame.

And no, I’m not talking about the people who put up the billboard. I’m talking about the people who complain about it. You go on television, and say it so everyone can see who you are, that you think it’s a problem you’re “forced” to look at the billboard.

Meanwhile, Obama says if you care about gun rights you’re clingy. Where’s the outrage?

I just don’t get it. I just don’t understand. Really.

Don’t Disrespect Me, Shrek

Wednesday, June 4th, 2008

The radio guys finally fed me enough GooglFood for me to use my GooglSkilz on this. Up until now, they’ve just been playing the clip, and based on that I went out hunting at least twice over the last month, to no avail.

The lady interrupting (and claiming she isn’t) is Monica Conyers, wife of Congressman John. Her speaking style is much more invigorating than her husband’s; I would suggest it’s the exact opposite. One wonders how the conversations go over the dinner table.

Now that the nugget is found, I still think it’s a little strange that so little has been said about this. And yes, I spent some time in Detroit. So I know, I know…not ranking real high on functional, productive municipal governments.

It’s still a little strange.

She gets her come-uppins, and from an eighth-grader, no less…

I’ve stooped to the level of burning up valuable time arguing with people like this, and I’m unhappy about it because, having graduated from the eighth grade, I should be a more responsible steward of my own time, energy and effort than that. It’s an infinite loop. Just like what you see above. The iron-clad argument is served up…you just said this is wrong, and here you are on tape doing it…and back comes the ricochet. THAT is because HE just got done doing it to ME. Getting a “yes I admit that is wrong” is more difficult than eating jello with chopsticks. And as far as what would lend meaning and purpose to the dialog, the Holy Grail of “I will try to make sure that never happens again” — just forget it.

Must be pretty sweet, running a household on the income of a Congressman plus a high-ranking Detroit City Council member. And neither one of the two of them seem to understand how to communicate verbally. America — what a country.

Everything I Know About People, Minus What I Was Told When I Was A Child

Monday, June 2nd, 2008

…and I think this goes for all children. We have an unfortunate tendency, as parents and caregivers, to conceal from them the things they’ll need to know whey they grow up.

Is it shame? Probably. This seems, to me, to be the stuff we have that we weren’t designed to have. Like it’s the stain we painted on ourselves the day Eve got Adam to eat that apple. We tend to be very weak when it comes time to look at people who are better than we are, and say to ourselves “I am flawed, for I am not like that; I shall put great effort into trying to improve myself.” We tend to think highly of the way we do things, when we see others who do things better; and, to think more highly of the other, when we find out he makes a bigger mess than we do.

1. People who litter, don’t want anyone else picking it up.
2. People who break the law, tend to act superior to people who do not.
3. People who don’t read anything, don’t want anyone else to be well-read.
4. People who don’t work hard, don’t want anyone else to work hard either.
5. People who don’t believe in God, don’t want anyone else to believe in Him either.
6. People who don’t engage in free trade, don’t want anyone else to engage in it either.
7. People who follow arbitrary rules, want everyone else to be forced to follow the same rules.
8. People who wear ugly, ratty and dirty clothes all the time, don’t want anyone else dressing up.
9. People who don’t write anything down, get upset and frustrated when they see someone else has.
10. People who talk a lot, have a tendency to form acrimonious relationships with people who do not.
11. People who don’t exercise their right to free speech, don’t want anyone else speaking freely either.
12. Women who are ugly because they don’t take care of their bodies, don’t want anyone going to Hooter’s.
13. People who don’t and can’t show any class, have a strong likelihood to feign offense on behalf of someone else.
14. People who don’t make a material success of themselves and their efforts, don’t want anyone else to prosper either.
15. People who have been duped by something and have come to realize it, want everyone else to be duped in the same way.
16. People who are overly concerned about their emotions, don’t want anyone else to be overly concerned with thinking.
17. People who will not protect their families from harm, come up with creative and ingenious ways to condemn those who will.
18. Students who get poor grades, have been known to show some nasty behavior toward fellow students who get better grades.
19. People who live in the same town where they were born, have an envious and vituperative attitude toward people who do not.
20. People who don’t take care of their health and physical appearances, tend to have some pretty harsh words for people who do.
21. People who won’t take the initiative to see what needs doing and do it, don’t want anyone else to take the initiative either.
22. People who wear the latest fashions, tend to get nasty and vicious toward other people who spend their energy on other things.
23. People who are lazy when it comes to teaching their sons to be men, don’t want masculinity to be appreciated by anyone else either.
24. People who imagine themselves as part of a group, with no individual identity, don’t want anyone else to have an individual identity either.
25. People who can’t solve problems because they don’t think rationally, work pretty hard to avoid acknowledging that someone else solved a problem.
26. People who have taken mind-altering drugs, have a tendency to show an imperious, snotty and condescending attitude toward people who never have.
27. People who make a conscious decision not to offer help or defense to someone who needs it, don’t want anyone else to help or defend that person either.
28. People who have never built anything and don’t imagine they ever will, have a desire to destroy that which builds, and preserve whatever is likely to destroy.
29. Wives who diligently avoid doing anything that might make their husbands happy, engage in delusion when excoriating other wives who will do those things.
30. People who imagine they’ve been “oppressed” in the past, single out supposed beneficiaries of said oppression, and imagine themselves entitled to their property.

Update 7/3/08:
I should add something about words, because I know a lot about people that I wasn’t told when I was a child about what people mean when they use certain words. Some of the words we use don’t mean what they are supposed to mean. Among those words, some of them never mean what they’re supposed to mean. They mean, if anything, the exact opposite.

Everyone/body: This one has to come first because it is, by far, the most abused. This is annoying to everybody, this is the only meeting date we found that will work for everyone, we need to put this guy someplace where he won’t piss everybody off, everybody agrees this is a good idea, everybody’s tired of you, we need to form a policy that will work for everyone. The word “everybody” does not mean everybody, and “everyone” does not mean everyone. Those words mean “me; an elite club of people I’ve met who agree with me; and anyone I meet from here on who agrees with me.”

Torture: This word has no definition save for “stuff I wouldn’t like having done to me if it was me.” That’s not really a problem, except it tends to be tossed around rather breezily as an argument for doing away with some sort of punishment or aggressive interrogation, and both of those are rather pointless if they aren’t unliked right?

Constitution: “Shredding the Constitution” means “doing something you wouldn’t be allowed to do if I had my druthers.” It has nothing to do with that old piece of parchment or anything metaphorically based on it. It’s a buzzword thrown in to make it sound like you’re sagaciously citing an historical document, when all you’re doing is expressing a personal taste.

Civil liberties: What you use instead of the word “Constitution” when you’re afraid that, if you actually use the word “Constitution,” someone will ask for a more specific citation. There is no “civil liberty” document with all those pesky articles and sections and amendments, so you can just opine away about “civil liberties” until you’re blue in the face and no one will ever call you on your crap.

Common-Sense: What I want, and hell with everyone else.

Tolerance: This is another one of those “opposite” words. Usually, when you’re accused of being intolerant it means you’ve tolerated something someone wishes you didn’t. And, if you’re credited with being tolerant, it means you’ve refused to tolerate something.

Open-minded: Another “opposite” word. Open-mindedness is demonstrated by a steadfast refusal to be told certain things. If you weigh the evidence even-handedly and show a fair consideration to all possible conclusions, you haven’t long to wait before someone will call you closed-minded.

Diversity: If “diversity” means anything at all, it certainly doesn’t refer to actual diversity, especially with regard to skin color. Today you can claim to be embracing “diversity” if everyone in your office has exactly the same skin color, as long as it’s a “good” color.

Science: Has two definitions, an old one and a new one. The old one has to do with learning facts and forming reasoned conclusions from the facts…testing them with theories…all that good stuff. The new definition has to do with keeping a ++ahem++ open mind (see above) about possible explanations…which means, of course, safeguarding sacred cows against reasoned challenge. Or, as I put it in the glossary, “a credentialed collective of academic elites who use democratic, political and coercive techniques to decide amongst themselves what is so.”

Skeptical: Another “opposite” word. Skeptics, once told what to think, dutifully think that and nothing else. If you’re told what to think and you start coming up with these annoying problems with it and pesky questions, you are not showing proper “skepticism” — although this is the essence of the classic definition of the word.

Fascist: Nobody has the slightest clue what this word means anymore. It’s just something liberals call you when you back them into a corner.

Greed(y): Nobody knows what this word means either, it has lost all definition. If we are pressed to come up with one, it would be “expressing or acting on a desire to keep your property after I’ve decided you should be deprived of it.” Protesting or resisting theft.

Solidarity: This means, according to the dictionary, “union or fellowship arising from common responsibilities and interests”; but in real life there’s a twist to it because you have to have communist goals. There is no “solidarity” if you are forming a fellowship for the purpose of…legalizing the private possession of firearms, setting up a system of private school vouchers, petitioning Congress to drill stateside for oil, or abolishing the capital gains tax. Solidarity means upholding no standards of performance save for that which is mediocre. A perfect example is all those nitwit teenagers changing their middle names to “Hussein” to show solidarity. “Showing solidarity” has to have something to do with sameness — you don’t set a new bar and challenge people to make themselves better, in any way, for solidarity.

Wealthy: It no longer means having a high net worth or enjoying a high income. If I tell someone you are a “wealthy” person, what that really means is you have something I wish you didn’t have. On your economic status in relation to me, or to that other person, it says nothing. You can be much poorer than me, and I can still think you’re “wealthy” if I have ambitions about making you even poorer than you are now.

Whiskey…Tango…Foxtrot… XVIII

Friday, May 23rd, 2008

Words fail. Again.

A Cambodian father and mechanic learned the hard way not to inflate children when he inserted an air hose designed to fill car tires into his 5-year-old son’s anus and blew him up, local media reported on Thursday.
:
The paper said the child’s stomach became distended and his concerned mother rushed him to hospital, where he remains in a stable condition and is expected to make a full recovery.

A few good farts…an enema…some kind of operation, worst-case scenario, in case some component of the alimentary canal got ruptured. And all’s well, one hopes. (Assuming a big ol’ air bubble didn’t enter the bloodstream.)

But at the end of the misadventure, daddy’s still a dumbass.

H/T: FARK.

Settle

Wednesday, May 14th, 2008

Buck links to an emotionally-charged epistle written up by a test-tube babymama. She gave up on the Prince Charming and insisted on having a princeling anyway, as did her girlfriend, and while her tone is far from hysterical it’s clear she counsels the newer generation to veer away from her footprints.

Well, don’t we all, sometimes.

Don’t worry about passion or intense connection. Don’t rule out a guy based on his annoying habit of yelling “Bravo!” in the cinema. Overlook his halitosis or abysmal sense of aesthetics. If you want the infrastructure in place for a family, settling is the way to go. Based on my observations, in fact, settling will probably make you happier in the long run, because many of those who marry with great expectations become more disillusioned with each passing year.

I can’t be too tough on her here, because my observations have been pretty much exactly the same. In fact, I notice divorce is an inevitability for all married couples, save for the ones that die quickly — or — the rare couplings that somehow obtain that elusive Holy Grail of genuine mutual respect.

“Settle” for a fella, after being torn for weeks on end about whether or not he’d make you “happy”? Good heavens, for his sake I hope not.

But perhaps she has something else in mind. Perhaps what she has in mind is…that Holy Grail. True compromise, with another human being, as an equal.

Obviously, I wasn’t always an advocate of settling. In fact, it took not settling to make me realize that settling is the better option. Whenever I make the case for settling, people look at me with creased brows of disapproval or frowns of disappointment. Not only is it politically incorrect to get behind settling, it is downright unacceptable. Our culture tells us to keep our eyes on the prize, and the theme of holding out for true love permeates our collective mentality.

Women do not suffer from any special handicap in decision-making here…at least, no handicap beyond what society has thrust upon them. How often do you hear a lecture that you should respect a “woman’s choice” about something? About as often as you demonstrate less than complete obeisance to whatever that choice is…even in matters where her choice directly impacts yourself, or others. And how often do you hear of a blunt and honest assessment of how well a woman has decided such a “choice”? In polite company, never, or as close to never as real life can summon any behavioral pattern. It is anathema to proper manners.

And so the female is someone we allow to decide things completely, without compromise, and once she has so chosen we do not criticize. Women aren’t goddesses, and they aren’t fools either. They’re people — no better, no lesser.

Why do women reject some men and accept others? Because of something called “true love”? As the subject of such approving and snubbing “choices” I have a great deal of trouble accepting that; and, it seems to me, as a somewhat-old guy who’s spent more of a lifetime outside of marriage than most of the fellas, it seems I might know a thing or two about this. The women who accepted me, that was out of “true love”?

Well, with the latest one — of course!

Perhaps with some of the previous ones as well. But all of the previous ones failed. And I can’t help but think, looking back on it, that one common thread in all the failures was in definition. They “loved” me…”settled” for me…why?

This gets into an unpleasant article in the set of female compulsions that, under the best of circumstances, might be discussed in private between mothers and their daughters — it is not explored in open company. The “love” a woman has for a puppy that was once abused…a no-talent twenty-something rocker dreaming of “getting the band back together”…a beautiful teacup in need of some glue for the handle that has broken away. The love for the “project house.” The fixer-upper.

The man who is only ninety-nine percent complete, has the woman wrapped tightly around his finger. He can’t get along without her help, and for that reason, her imagination runs away with fantasies about nursing him back to health. Her vision is not that he is complete and whole…her vision is that she will make him that way. It’s a vital ingredient — the most important ingredient, is the one that is missing. Waiting for her to toss it in and make it all better.

Her search for this seems to be a product of evolution. It is certainly wired into her psychological makeup, as a feminine being capable of this “love.” One wonders how survival of the fittest culminates in this. But it must. Perhaps the children conceived from such a union, a quid-pro-quo between mama and papa, end up being stronger and more capable of perpetuating the species? It must be so, for that is how we have been built. A lady comes into the age of marriageability, and develops an eye for misfit boys who are as misfit toys.

There is very little “survival of the fittest” here, or whatever there is, is tempered by something that is exactly opposite. Visualizing the boys as toys, the maiden seems unerringly attracted to the ones that, once wound up, march around in a circle — getting nowhere until her therapeutic treatments straighten out the legs and associated workings again, calibrating them, tuning, synchronizing. The ones that already march in a straight line, she might be looking right at ’em, but she can’t see ’em.

It is the timeless father-in-law’s lament.

So my verdict on this thesis is: Partial agreement. I don’t think single women, by-and-large, need to decide more quickly or take more time to reach the decision. How long she takes, is not the issue. The issue is the factors involved in who she chooses. Based on what I have seen in an unusually long and complicated career as a single guy, single women should pay closer attention to what, exactly, is closing the deal in whatever way she feels it should be closed. She should pay attention to what’s going into her decision, because nobody else is.

Yes, it seems like her girlfriends care. But they don’t. Not so much about her long-term welfare, anyway. For that, you need a coupling…a true, genuine coupling. Two people who see each other as real people, each of whom is cared for by the other, deeply, while forsaking all others. Take as much time or as little time to stumble across it as you need, but that’s the prize, and there is no substitute.

Too Complex

Wednesday, May 14th, 2008

I’ve been noticing this about the “too complex” meme for a long time now. When people say something is a “complex” or “complicated” issue, seldom-to-never do they go on to articulate exactly how it is that this complexity changes anything, gives us anything new to think about, culminates in someone having the wrong idea about things who otherwise might not, etc. In fact, if you’re patient it seems invariably true that these people who talk about “complexity” will go on to some other topic that really is complex, and discuss that other issue as if it were far simpler.

Thomas Sowell takes on those who use the “complex” argument on our thorny economic issue of gas prices. H/T: Boortz.

Best Sentence XXIX

Monday, May 12th, 2008

The Best Sentence I’ve Heard Or Read Lately (BSIHORL) award goes to Shrink Wrapped, of whom we learn via Gerard’s Side Lines

It is very easy, in these days when news is synonymous with entertainment and most people confuse feelings with facts, for our political system to become unbalanced in the face of passionate advocates of the pseudo-science of the day.

In context, the issue under discussion is the hysteria involved in the supposed vaccine-Autism connection, but it could apply to a lot of other things as well.