Today's the day. And what have I got?--No money for plane tickets to attend the real march, and a busted damned digital camera so I can't even show up for the virtual march. Good God, I fail even at internet marching. By next week I'll be expecting a gold star just for sitting upright of my own volition.
This business of writing stuff on the internet being what it is--rushed, spontaneous, unedited--shorthands become customary. Thus we write "the Jena Six," when we mean six specific young men. These are the six students facing criminal charges--originally, conspiracy to commit second-degree murder and aggravated battery; later, conspiracy and battery--for giving another student a black eye:
Robert Bailey
Jesse Beard
Mychal Bell
Carwin Jones
Bryant Purvis
Theodore Shaw
It's funny about that black eye business, which of course was just a mite provoked: I got a black eye once, but then, I'm white and so was my attacker. The helpful police recommended I bail my attacker out. Oh, yes. A little (or more accurately a lot of) bruising around one of my eyes wasn't worth ruining someone's life over, was it? And goodness, everyone knows a little time in jail will plumb RUIN one's LIFE. Swelling reduces and bruises fade, but good heavens, jail!
I guess our outrage over the inevitable life-ruination that jail guarantees--guarantees!--is directly proportional to how much we think the lives in question are worth in the first place. If, on the other hand, a life is already deemed ruined from the moment of its conception, well: What's a little jail to that?
And speaking of worth--
--if you took time out of your busy day anytime this year to rail against criticism of a fucking book cover, you have time to post about this.
--if you took time out of your busy day anytime this year to screech about nerds on the internet DOSing and dDosing your feminist website, you have time to post about this.
--if you took time out of your busy day anytime this year to explain why you wear lipstick or suck dick or wax your cooter, you have time to post about this.
So don't cry that you didn't have time today 'cause you're so busy. Just spare everyone the overwhelming stench of horseshit and tell the truth: You don't give a fuck.
Further, it's at least partly due to apathetic non-giving-a-fuck brats like yourself that people who do give a fuck have left Internet Town. If you were aware of this case months ago and you get a good chunk of your news via weblogs, odds are real, real good that you have Sylvia to thank for your awareness of the matter. And for her hard work she got, what? The satisfaction of a job well done, I guess.
What are the young men facing jail time over a black eye going to get? Well, supposedly this is a democracy, so technically that decision is up to us.
Small, big, long, short, simple, elaborate, prosaic or poetic--you can do something. There are petitions. There is contact information. Get as fired up as you do when someone says "I just don't know about this image of a sexified headless torso," or "It ain't real ethical to buy pets from breeders," and figure out something you can do. This is not neurosurgery.
UPDATES
Making Ian Fleming's "M" look like weak tea. Kai, I volunteer to clean your house for the rest of your life for bringing her back.
Brownfemipower and Color of Change for what you can do. (Much love and thanks for the link, BFP.)
More Kai, because you can never have too much. Words that ring and sing in your ears even though you're just sitting there silently reading. I don't know how he accomplishes that, but I imagine it involves more knowledge of physics than I possess.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Saturday, June 16, 2007
The Update to Say There Will Be No Updates
. . . at least, not from me.
It finally occurred to me that so many people were requesting invites NOT because I am a marvelous writer whose archives are full of delight and wonder, but because they thought I'd keep updating, only, privately. Exclusively. A VIP lounge blog! That is incorrect, however, and it's my fault for not making that more clear. I'm sorry.
Speaking of incorrect, a lot's been said about me and the positions I hold lately for which "incorrect" can only be a whopping understatement. I thought of addressing some of that, but my immediate reaction upon contemplating that activity was to feel exhausted. Remember: Your opponents online will win most of their victories not because you're wrong and they're right, but because you let them just plain wear you out. I see much better now what bloggers mean when they talk about being careful to whom they give their energy. And from the other side of it, consider that when someone doesn't seem eager to engage you, it might just be because you're trying to engage them on a topic they've already hashed out with forty other people recently.
And that brings me to the one thing I can't leave alone, because even my friends have suggested it--kindly, but nonetheless erroneously: With regards to so-called "identity politics," the fervor with which I make certain arguments has nothing to do with "convert's zeal."
I love you, lefty friends, but you seem to have forgotten that just a few short years ago I was having these arguments as a Republican with other Republicans, because if you happened to have been one of those sucker Republicans who supported same-sex marriage and was pro-choice, as I had been, such arguments are inevitable. Maybe it is possible to argue in favor of same-sex marriage or reproductive rights without relying on at least some notion of group identity for your support, but if there is, I never found it.
In other words, I may have come late to the term "identity politics," but not to the concept. It ain't a matter of having the zeal of the converted; it's a matter of feeling enormously frustrated to find myself having the exact same arguments on the left as I did on the right.
And mark my words, they are exactly the same. Lefty guys hate to hear this, and they love to self-righteously proclaim that it's different because they do not condone TORTURE. Do they get a cookie for that? Sure! Is it a very big or particularly delicious cookie? Not really, because how do you think Republicans got around to condoning torture? Do you think it might have begun when they defined "human experience" as "white heterosexual Christian able-bodied middle-class experience," promptly vowed never to acknowledge their own group identity but simply to term it "human experience," and started assigning gradations of humanity to everyone else? The history of the United States doesn't follow without that starting point, never even mind what's going on in Iraq.
To oppress others you must begin from the notion that they are not as human as you are, so it's okay. To keep track of humanity, humanity, who's got the humanity, it is helpful to sort humanity into groups.
But wait! If you sort them into groups, and vary your methods of oppression slightly by group, you run the risk that members of a group might begin using their shared experiences as organizing and unifying principles. Then they might organize and unify against you! And then they might fight back.
To prevent this disaster, you must do all you can to undermine the validity of group identities, even as those very identities (that, remember, your work created in the first place) are helping you keep track of which group(s) is/are the most threatening to established, "real" human beings like yourself.
These are not such loony or radical concepts, for one. For two, get over the fucking sandwich business already. Get therapy if you have to, but seriously: It's time to let that one go. This is just like that time Je55 G01dst31n kept referencing me at least once a month as a perfect example of Why Identity Politics Are Going to Get Us All Blown up by Muslims (and Interfere with the Ability of My Wife to Fix Me a Nice Frittata Besides).
Anyway, there's my convert's zeal for you: I am sick and tired of having this argument. And I'm sick and tired of blogging, too. The problem is, when I think of all the things I could be doing in a day, "blogging" simply doesn't rate. LAUNDRY is more fun than blogging to me right now. Until or unless that changes, then, this is it.
Thanks, everybody. It honestly has been fun; it's just not anymore.
It finally occurred to me that so many people were requesting invites NOT because I am a marvelous writer whose archives are full of delight and wonder, but because they thought I'd keep updating, only, privately. Exclusively. A VIP lounge blog! That is incorrect, however, and it's my fault for not making that more clear. I'm sorry.
Speaking of incorrect, a lot's been said about me and the positions I hold lately for which "incorrect" can only be a whopping understatement. I thought of addressing some of that, but my immediate reaction upon contemplating that activity was to feel exhausted. Remember: Your opponents online will win most of their victories not because you're wrong and they're right, but because you let them just plain wear you out. I see much better now what bloggers mean when they talk about being careful to whom they give their energy. And from the other side of it, consider that when someone doesn't seem eager to engage you, it might just be because you're trying to engage them on a topic they've already hashed out with forty other people recently.
And that brings me to the one thing I can't leave alone, because even my friends have suggested it--kindly, but nonetheless erroneously: With regards to so-called "identity politics," the fervor with which I make certain arguments has nothing to do with "convert's zeal."
I love you, lefty friends, but you seem to have forgotten that just a few short years ago I was having these arguments as a Republican with other Republicans, because if you happened to have been one of those sucker Republicans who supported same-sex marriage and was pro-choice, as I had been, such arguments are inevitable. Maybe it is possible to argue in favor of same-sex marriage or reproductive rights without relying on at least some notion of group identity for your support, but if there is, I never found it.
In other words, I may have come late to the term "identity politics," but not to the concept. It ain't a matter of having the zeal of the converted; it's a matter of feeling enormously frustrated to find myself having the exact same arguments on the left as I did on the right.
And mark my words, they are exactly the same. Lefty guys hate to hear this, and they love to self-righteously proclaim that it's different because they do not condone TORTURE. Do they get a cookie for that? Sure! Is it a very big or particularly delicious cookie? Not really, because how do you think Republicans got around to condoning torture? Do you think it might have begun when they defined "human experience" as "white heterosexual Christian able-bodied middle-class experience," promptly vowed never to acknowledge their own group identity but simply to term it "human experience," and started assigning gradations of humanity to everyone else? The history of the United States doesn't follow without that starting point, never even mind what's going on in Iraq.
To oppress others you must begin from the notion that they are not as human as you are, so it's okay. To keep track of humanity, humanity, who's got the humanity, it is helpful to sort humanity into groups.
But wait! If you sort them into groups, and vary your methods of oppression slightly by group, you run the risk that members of a group might begin using their shared experiences as organizing and unifying principles. Then they might organize and unify against you! And then they might fight back.
To prevent this disaster, you must do all you can to undermine the validity of group identities, even as those very identities (that, remember, your work created in the first place) are helping you keep track of which group(s) is/are the most threatening to established, "real" human beings like yourself.
These are not such loony or radical concepts, for one. For two, get over the fucking sandwich business already. Get therapy if you have to, but seriously: It's time to let that one go. This is just like that time Je55 G01dst31n kept referencing me at least once a month as a perfect example of Why Identity Politics Are Going to Get Us All Blown up by Muslims (and Interfere with the Ability of My Wife to Fix Me a Nice Frittata Besides).
Anyway, there's my convert's zeal for you: I am sick and tired of having this argument. And I'm sick and tired of blogging, too. The problem is, when I think of all the things I could be doing in a day, "blogging" simply doesn't rate. LAUNDRY is more fun than blogging to me right now. Until or unless that changes, then, this is it.
Thanks, everybody. It honestly has been fun; it's just not anymore.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Notice
Despite my (I believe excellent) advice to TAKE STUPID PETTY INFIGHTING TO EMAIL, some people with Jell-O for brains are just determined to keep raging. As long as this blog exists, that's going to be the case, at least until some new feud develops.
Further, every time I post in my own defense, I'M going to be the one accused of "keeping it going."
Neat trick, that.
So here's the deal: Grab whatever you want from here, and you've got roughly 36 hours in which to do it. After that time, I'll either lock this blog down to be private, restricting access to authors only, or pull it completely. But this blog's status as a certified shit magnet cannot continue.
I'm sorry, folks. Thanks for all your kind words and understanding.
UPDATE: Okay. Enough people have complained at me (in the best possible way, I mean; I could use more complaining of this sort) that I think what I'll do is just restrict access to invite-only. Email me if you'd like that, and I can set you up. Yeah, you'll have a stupid login page to go through first, but I can't help that. And of course, keep in mind that I don't plan to update. At least this way, though, if you need something out of the archives it's available to you and you don't have to waste your hard drive space storing it.
My rule on reposting anything from the archives is that there are no rules. Hell, say you wrote it if you want, although with things as they are at the moment, I can't in good conscience recommend that particular course of action, unless you enjoy being characterized as a wingnut cum dumpster. In that case, I note only that it takes all kinds to make a world, so knock yourself out.
My contact information is available on my Blogspot profile page, which you can access through the link at the left there, in the sidebar under "Contributors."
Thanks again to those of you who win at life forever.
Further, every time I post in my own defense, I'M going to be the one accused of "keeping it going."
Neat trick, that.
So here's the deal: Grab whatever you want from here, and you've got roughly 36 hours in which to do it. After that time, I'll either lock this blog down to be private, restricting access to authors only, or pull it completely. But this blog's status as a certified shit magnet cannot continue.
I'm sorry, folks. Thanks for all your kind words and understanding.
UPDATE: Okay. Enough people have complained at me (in the best possible way, I mean; I could use more complaining of this sort) that I think what I'll do is just restrict access to invite-only. Email me if you'd like that, and I can set you up. Yeah, you'll have a stupid login page to go through first, but I can't help that. And of course, keep in mind that I don't plan to update. At least this way, though, if you need something out of the archives it's available to you and you don't have to waste your hard drive space storing it.
My rule on reposting anything from the archives is that there are no rules. Hell, say you wrote it if you want, although with things as they are at the moment, I can't in good conscience recommend that particular course of action, unless you enjoy being characterized as a wingnut cum dumpster. In that case, I note only that it takes all kinds to make a world, so knock yourself out.
My contact information is available on my Blogspot profile page, which you can access through the link at the left there, in the sidebar under "Contributors."
Thanks again to those of you who win at life forever.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
I Started To Draft a Response, but You Know?
We all have our limits. I've reached mine:
You know, I've kind of been waiting for someone to just come out and say it, so I could say this:
Fuck you.
And tell me: Where in your playbook does the provocateur who runs no BlogAds; owns no CafePress store; posts no Wishlist; has never made one thin dime from blogging; is not a graduate student living off some combination of loans, grants, and dear old Mom and Dad; earned a paltry $19,000 before taxes last year; wastes way too much of her fucking time on this worthless gig that doesn't pay; is NEVER getting a book deal or a spot on CNN or any little piece of the so-called blogging dream--in what part of your playbook does that so-handsomely compensated double agent for the Republican party just up and fucking quit?
This part. That's what part.
Ah! But of course . . . if I were being compensated by the government . . . I wouldn't need any outside sources of income! Well, you're too clever for me, Rich Puchalsky. If I weren't so fond of it myself, I'd send you a paperback copy of The 70 Greatest Conspiracies of All Time. No, no--you've earned it.
UPDATE: I want to be done with this.
But now that you're being a shit to my friends, Mr. Puchalsky, I think it's time I reminded you of a key point you've conveniently forgotten:
Scott Eric Kaufman wasn't dragged into this. He leapt into it, head first.
No one asked him for backup. No one invited his input. He wasn't dragged. Not by me, not by anyone else. Are we clear on that, poochie?
To continue: When Scott got a ration of undeserved shit on his head from a stellar member of the General's army, I thought, "This is not right."
Because it isn't. What Scott's going through right now isn't right. He didn't deserve it, and it's a just plain ugly thing for his harasser to do, and it's ugly of patriotboy to enable it.
So I tried to cheer Scott up with a bitter joke.
You misinterpreted it, perhaps because you're a humorless asshole. I'm not sure. I don't know you from a hole in the ground, which is why I hesitate to make assumptions about you. Would that you were similarly courteous in your treatment of me.
But you weren't, and you aren't.
And now you're extending your smug know-nothing shittiness to people who called you out for what you said of me. People I consider friends.
And you keep linking to this blog, this blog which I would very much like to go dead. I didn't delete it only because I don't want to inconvenience the people who still have links in to it. One person has a link to one of my posts in her site's FAQ; I don't think she should be put out because you won't quit behaving like a child.
So I'm asking you to quit behaving like a child. Put a sock in it, fuckface.
Now as for some of the rest of you:
You who really loved it when I'd jump into some comment or blog war to take up for you, to get your back, but who are now suddenly fatigued with "all this fighting?" There's an easy way to prevent most of it, and it's not even "just admit that I'm right," although let's be honest, I wouldn't be against you doing that, either.
No, it's even simpler than that. Let me give you a tip from The Provocateur's Handbook. I've got it right here, and it contains this handy bit of advice that I remember well from my days as a so-called warblogger:
THE NEXT TIME YOU SPASTIC, BELLIGERENT IDIOTS HAVE A PROBLEM WITH EACH OTHER--THAT IS, FOUR MINUTES FROM NOW*--TAKE IT TO FUCKING EMAIL, SO YOUR ENEMIES ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE AISLE DON'T SEE IT.
Do you notice that you don't see as many internecine disputes over on the right side of blogosphere?
"Oh, yes!" says some pompous prick. "That's because fascism doesn't allow for the intricate complexities and nuances of--"
Excuse me, I have to be fascist myself for a minute: WRONG. Or rather, you're only half-right, no pun intended.
But you weren't over there and I was, so let me tell you something: If you think there's no internecine warfare on the right, you're dumb as toast. Disputes happen. Nasty disputes happen. Nasty, horrible, savagely bloody disputes happen. But privately.
I have to be honest, I don't blame the right-wing bloggers for laughing their asses off at you right now. Fragging your own is stupid. A lot of you seem determined to get your doctoral degrees in exactly this kind of stupid.
And I could deal with this, except for the part where you then turn around and blame your supporters and (especially) your detractors for "prolonging" or "spreading" or "intensifying" it.
What the hell did you expect, genius? You made it public in the first place. Did you do that so that none would read or remark upon it? Do you even know how the internet works?
To hell with you.
*i.e., when someone posts about how ableist it was of me to use the word "spastic." EMAIL, STUPID. Take it to email, so I can mark it as spam.
I don't know whether you're actually a conservative and a provocateur, but if you were, I'd expect you to be doing exactly as you have been doing.
You know, I've kind of been waiting for someone to just come out and say it, so I could say this:
Fuck you.
And tell me: Where in your playbook does the provocateur who runs no BlogAds; owns no CafePress store; posts no Wishlist; has never made one thin dime from blogging; is not a graduate student living off some combination of loans, grants, and dear old Mom and Dad; earned a paltry $19,000 before taxes last year; wastes way too much of her fucking time on this worthless gig that doesn't pay; is NEVER getting a book deal or a spot on CNN or any little piece of the so-called blogging dream--in what part of your playbook does that so-handsomely compensated double agent for the Republican party just up and fucking quit?
This part. That's what part.
Ah! But of course . . . if I were being compensated by the government . . . I wouldn't need any outside sources of income! Well, you're too clever for me, Rich Puchalsky. If I weren't so fond of it myself, I'd send you a paperback copy of The 70 Greatest Conspiracies of All Time. No, no--you've earned it.
UPDATE: I want to be done with this.
But now that you're being a shit to my friends, Mr. Puchalsky, I think it's time I reminded you of a key point you've conveniently forgotten:
Scott Eric Kaufman wasn't dragged into this. He leapt into it, head first.
No one asked him for backup. No one invited his input. He wasn't dragged. Not by me, not by anyone else. Are we clear on that, poochie?
To continue: When Scott got a ration of undeserved shit on his head from a stellar member of the General's army, I thought, "This is not right."
Because it isn't. What Scott's going through right now isn't right. He didn't deserve it, and it's a just plain ugly thing for his harasser to do, and it's ugly of patriotboy to enable it.
So I tried to cheer Scott up with a bitter joke.
You misinterpreted it, perhaps because you're a humorless asshole. I'm not sure. I don't know you from a hole in the ground, which is why I hesitate to make assumptions about you. Would that you were similarly courteous in your treatment of me.
But you weren't, and you aren't.
And now you're extending your smug know-nothing shittiness to people who called you out for what you said of me. People I consider friends.
And you keep linking to this blog, this blog which I would very much like to go dead. I didn't delete it only because I don't want to inconvenience the people who still have links in to it. One person has a link to one of my posts in her site's FAQ; I don't think she should be put out because you won't quit behaving like a child.
So I'm asking you to quit behaving like a child. Put a sock in it, fuckface.
Now as for some of the rest of you:
You who really loved it when I'd jump into some comment or blog war to take up for you, to get your back, but who are now suddenly fatigued with "all this fighting?" There's an easy way to prevent most of it, and it's not even "just admit that I'm right," although let's be honest, I wouldn't be against you doing that, either.
No, it's even simpler than that. Let me give you a tip from The Provocateur's Handbook. I've got it right here, and it contains this handy bit of advice that I remember well from my days as a so-called warblogger:
THE NEXT TIME YOU SPASTIC, BELLIGERENT IDIOTS HAVE A PROBLEM WITH EACH OTHER--THAT IS, FOUR MINUTES FROM NOW*--TAKE IT TO FUCKING EMAIL, SO YOUR ENEMIES ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE AISLE DON'T SEE IT.
Do you notice that you don't see as many internecine disputes over on the right side of blogosphere?
"Oh, yes!" says some pompous prick. "That's because fascism doesn't allow for the intricate complexities and nuances of--"
Excuse me, I have to be fascist myself for a minute: WRONG. Or rather, you're only half-right, no pun intended.
But you weren't over there and I was, so let me tell you something: If you think there's no internecine warfare on the right, you're dumb as toast. Disputes happen. Nasty disputes happen. Nasty, horrible, savagely bloody disputes happen. But privately.
I have to be honest, I don't blame the right-wing bloggers for laughing their asses off at you right now. Fragging your own is stupid. A lot of you seem determined to get your doctoral degrees in exactly this kind of stupid.
And I could deal with this, except for the part where you then turn around and blame your supporters and (especially) your detractors for "prolonging" or "spreading" or "intensifying" it.
What the hell did you expect, genius? You made it public in the first place. Did you do that so that none would read or remark upon it? Do you even know how the internet works?
To hell with you.
*i.e., when someone posts about how ableist it was of me to use the word "spastic." EMAIL, STUPID. Take it to email, so I can mark it as spam.
Right Then
I just blew up at somebody over at Feministe. Well, it was a partial blow-up, actually, because I deleted the first version, the nuclear one. But it was still too much.
So this is all I am going to say about recent events:
I am not happy Steve Gilliard is dead. His death was shattering to many people I respect and admire; I can only imagine how it must be for his family and for those who were really close to him.
I am not happy that people I respect and admire are feeling torn up.
I am REALLY not happy that I contributed to amplifying some of those feelings. That, I am extremely sorry about. That was never my intent, but as I think we all know, intent only gets you so far in this life. The fact is, some things I have said have people who were already feeling bad feeling worse. My intentions don't alter that fact.
Unlike Aunt B., I am not going to apologize for calling sexism where I continue to see sexism. Don't look for Jesus' General to appear on the blogroll any time soon, or in fact ever. Far as I'm concerned, that guy's still a douchebag, and a douchebag with too much power and too little maturity to boot. That's a bad combination right there.
But I am going to apologize for not having backed off sooner from recent discussions. There comes a point in these conversations when the discussion isn't going anywhere productive, when I know in fact it is no longer capable of going anywhere productive, when I say to myself, "There's really no point anymore"--and it's when I pass that mark, when I have that awareness of how it's going and yet, I keep going anyway, that I say things I regret.
I still think the person to whom I responded was running her mouth in a way she shouldn't have been. I definitely think--no, I know--that she made false assumptions about how I'm feeling about all this. I continue to find that insulting.
But I'm fucking merciless when I'm angry, and I don't like that. For every time my ability to cut people off at the knees verbally comes in handy, there are nine other times it just makes things worse. This was probably one of those times.
For that, I am sorry.
So this is all I am going to say about recent events:
I am not happy Steve Gilliard is dead. His death was shattering to many people I respect and admire; I can only imagine how it must be for his family and for those who were really close to him.
I am not happy that people I respect and admire are feeling torn up.
I am REALLY not happy that I contributed to amplifying some of those feelings. That, I am extremely sorry about. That was never my intent, but as I think we all know, intent only gets you so far in this life. The fact is, some things I have said have people who were already feeling bad feeling worse. My intentions don't alter that fact.
Unlike Aunt B., I am not going to apologize for calling sexism where I continue to see sexism. Don't look for Jesus' General to appear on the blogroll any time soon, or in fact ever. Far as I'm concerned, that guy's still a douchebag, and a douchebag with too much power and too little maturity to boot. That's a bad combination right there.
But I am going to apologize for not having backed off sooner from recent discussions. There comes a point in these conversations when the discussion isn't going anywhere productive, when I know in fact it is no longer capable of going anywhere productive, when I say to myself, "There's really no point anymore"--and it's when I pass that mark, when I have that awareness of how it's going and yet, I keep going anyway, that I say things I regret.
I still think the person to whom I responded was running her mouth in a way she shouldn't have been. I definitely think--no, I know--that she made false assumptions about how I'm feeling about all this. I continue to find that insulting.
But I'm fucking merciless when I'm angry, and I don't like that. For every time my ability to cut people off at the knees verbally comes in handy, there are nine other times it just makes things worse. This was probably one of those times.
For that, I am sorry.
Saturday, June 09, 2007
This Post Is Not for Vegetarians*
Meat eaters, gourmands, foodies, etc.: Please tell me what the hell to do with this 2.36-lb eye of round roast that the boyfriend brought home to annoy me with because apparently when I said "and a London broil would be nice if it's cheap, or see if they have another one of those bargain tri-tips," he heard "buy an expensive, USDA-choice eye of round roast."
It's 90-something degrees here, I have to work tonight, and everything I've been able to Google on this roast so far indicates that long oven-cooking is involved in its preparation. I did not want to have to turn on the oven today, which is why I specified cuts of meat that can be grilled, but since when does what I want matter?
HELP.
*I'm not kidding. Comments lecturing me on the evils of meat will be deleted. I've had my fill of the blogosphere playing judge, jury, and executioner lately, thanks.
It's 90-something degrees here, I have to work tonight, and everything I've been able to Google on this roast so far indicates that long oven-cooking is involved in its preparation. I did not want to have to turn on the oven today, which is why I specified cuts of meat that can be grilled, but since when does what I want matter?
HELP.
*I'm not kidding. Comments lecturing me on the evils of meat will be deleted. I've had my fill of the blogosphere playing judge, jury, and executioner lately, thanks.
I Especially Despised 'Meathead'
I don't get it. Do we have to put some revamped version of All in the Family back on the air? Will that do the trick?
Because I was never that fond of the show; even as a little kid, I found it preachy and hamfisted. But apparently, if you don't remind white people at least once a week not to be Archie Bunker, this is what they get up to:
From CBS47 TV:
Oh, okay--things like THAT. I thought he meant things like this.
Via Blackamazon, who has actually written about much more than just the above, and who has a good question: "is it a stretch for me to notice that unless it can be used against her a WOC physicality or sexuality never comes up?"
Because I was never that fond of the show; even as a little kid, I found it preachy and hamfisted. But apparently, if you don't remind white people at least once a week not to be Archie Bunker, this is what they get up to:
Caption reads: "Bringing home the runaway slave in the Senior skit"
From CBS47 TV:
Leaders at Riverdale Christian Academy are accused of racism after a themed graduation party on Friday, June 1st.
The theme was southern plantations during the Civil War. Students and staff dressed up in period costumes for the event.
Controversy arose when some school employees dressed up as slaves and wore black make-up on their faces, arms and legs.
. . .
Douglas Spencer, Principal, Riverdale Christian Academy said "The point of the skit it to roast the graduates and poke a little fun at their mannerism and different things like that."
Oh, okay--things like THAT. I thought he meant things like this.
Via Blackamazon, who has actually written about much more than just the above, and who has a good question: "is it a stretch for me to notice that unless it can be used against her a WOC physicality or sexuality never comes up?"
Friday, June 08, 2007
Contextualizing My New Number-One Fan
In several active threads at the blogs I read, commenter "anon" has made it his mission to inform the feminist blogging community that I used to be a supporter of George W. Bush and the global war on terror. Shocking, I realize, and certainly something I take great pains to keep under wraps, but I suppose the truth will out.
I'm fine with that, but I think it's worth examining anon's own liberal/feminist credibility before determining that he's just a proud supporter of Jesus' General with a hard-on for Truth. What's good for the geese, etc.
Roll tape.
Anon, posting as "J. Pierpont Flathead," has a very empowering message for naughty little girls who love them some cute handbags:
He thinks feminism has lost its focus at Pandagon; he remembers when it used to be about equality and justice, but now it's only about hating men. Curse you, Amanda!
Like any good feminist, he's passionate about abortion rights. To his credit, however, he refuses to let that passion burst into zealotry:
His remarkable restraint becomes even more impressive once he lets it be known that a woman (!) caused all his misery:
But he's not an MRA:
Where to find that sense of perspective? Maybe the Nice Guy forums can help!
Or victim-blaming and slut-shaming--I hear those are terrific hobbies for restoring mental and spiritual balance:
The really sweet thing about anon/Flathead/Benson is the way he's so eager to be part of the solution instead of being part of the problem. So what's to be done about rape, Mr. Flathead?
What, you were expecting something about stopping rapists? Clearly you're too simple to deal with the complexities of justice. Let an expert show you the way:
Hey! Where are you going? I SAID, let him show you! Don't you care about justice?
Well? What's wrong with you fuckheads? Don't you care about freedom? Or pleasure?
Speaking of guts and brains, my new fan really admires Amanda's:
But for real guts and brains, you just can't beat Glenn Sacks:
Good to know! Any closing thoughts, anon?
[applause]
So there you go. It being a crime not to provide proper context nowadays, I hope I've fulfilled my obligations in that regard.
I'm fine with that, but I think it's worth examining anon's own liberal/feminist credibility before determining that he's just a proud supporter of Jesus' General with a hard-on for Truth. What's good for the geese, etc.
Roll tape.
Anon, posting as "J. Pierpont Flathead," has a very empowering message for naughty little girls who love them some cute handbags:
BTW, little girls, my (ex)wife and I chose a new last name for the both of us. Though divorced (though she has remarried), we have both still kept that new last name.
Grow up.
He thinks feminism has lost its focus at Pandagon; he remembers when it used to be about equality and justice, but now it's only about hating men. Curse you, Amanda!
Once upon a time, women’s liberation was about liberating women AND men. Now at Amanda’s site, women’s liberation is about gaining and keeping and leveraging power that women have gained over men, even when that leads to demonstrable injustices.
A common cry there is that it is ridiculous for any man to claim that they are discriminated against in any fashion, BECAUSE of course, they are men and members of the patriarchy.
Amanda’s new and improved Pandagon — basically a hate site towards men not much better than how LGF and Freepers discuss “islamofacism”.
Like any good feminist, he's passionate about abortion rights. To his credit, however, he refuses to let that passion burst into zealotry:
It’s simple. Abortion is a surgery terminating a medically dangerous condition that a woman doesn’t want to have. She has a right to decide whether or not she’s pregnant or not, period.
Nothing is this simple. No rights are as absolute as this. By insisting on absolute rights in a world where nothing is absolute, by insisting you are right and it is simple, and by casting those that disagree with you out, and calling them names, you alienate people who would agree with you on many issues.
By insisting that it is this simple and that there aren’t other deep issues involved you turn off everyone but your fellow zealots.
His remarkable restraint becomes even more impressive once he lets it be known that a woman (!) caused all his misery:
I lost my sense of humor and proportion and irony when my ex asked the court to move away. Under the Marriage of Burgess (since overturned) she was allowed to. When that happened my 49/51 coparenting turned into 25/75 and until I found a job in the new location I drove 1600 miles every two weeks to be with my children. Now moved into the new location, I have had to pay tens of thousands of dollars to turn that 25/75 back into 49/51.
Along the way I have won just about every battle in court, including the false allegations of sexual conduct, and I have had 3 court appointed psycholigists agree with me and 1 disagree but I watched my kids grow from 2 and 4 to 6 and 8, and I have had to pay 50% of my wages in support. I live in a 2 BR/apt and barely have enough money for clothes for the kids (and none for myself) or presents for birthdays. The $2500 I pay each month (finally reduced to the GUIDELINE payment of $1059 each month) has gone to house downpayments, house painting, and house renovation.
But he's not an MRA:
And though I am not a member of an MRA, this is what MRAs are fighting for. No fault divorce should come with a presumption of joint custody of the children.
So yeah, I lost my sense of humor and proportion, and would love to find it again.
Where to find that sense of perspective? Maybe the Nice Guy forums can help!
I have never said anything racist on Pandagon.
Nope, that’s something you and your buds reserve for the “private” forums, twerp. And you seem to forget your defense of racist cartoons, earlier. But no matter–we’d all love to expose your Little Boy’s Club rantings to the public eye, if you guys, knowing what vile sexist and racist pigs you are, didn’t keep your forum private so you can speak your hate without getting called out for it.
Dear, dear J. Pierpoint, who I have to address that way because that’s how I address all my moral and intellectual inferiors.
Or victim-blaming and slut-shaming--I hear those are terrific hobbies for restoring mental and spiritual balance:
She went to bed with someone that is stronger than she was and was too drunk to reason. She admits the guy was too drunk to reason. Her words “drunk enough to be deaf to reason”.
That’s fucking stupid, pun intended, and you’re damn right she should bear responsibity for that act.
Then she expects Mr. Too Drunk to Reason to be able to reason. What is that called? That is called fucking insane. Pun intended.
And she worries about what Mr. Too Drunk to Reason may do to her. But guess what, he peacefully and passionately negotiates with her (pun intended), and does nothing to her because he respects her rights.
In the meantime she writes all this down to a near rape experience. And she claims that anyone that disagrees with her is just being disapproviing of her partners. What is this called? Fucking dangerous. Fucking dangerous to men. What a fucking misandrist cunt.
The really sweet thing about anon/Flathead/Benson is the way he's so eager to be part of the solution instead of being part of the problem. So what's to be done about rape, Mr. Flathead?
Change the attitudes at this site. Change the attitudes that condone Nick Kiddie’s behavior with a person that was too drunk to reason.
Change the attitudes that refuse to address that false accusations of misbehavior by men are in fact a serious human rights problem, a problem of gender equity, a problem that creates bias throughout our court system whether it is in regards to rape or in regards to child custody.
Gender inequality was a problem that feminism used to want to address. This site just advocates a power struggle.
Pitiful sad site….
What, you were expecting something about stopping rapists? Clearly you're too simple to deal with the complexities of justice. Let an expert show you the way:
You are disgusting. You are straight out of Les Miserable. Straight out of Devil’s Island. End justifies the means. You are an enabler of torture. You are a free republican. An LGFer.
Do not confuse yourself with anyone associated with liberty.
Hey! Where are you going? I SAID, let him show you! Don't you care about justice?
You care not a whit for the innocent husbands, fathers, and brothers that are rotting jail or their wives, daughters, and sons whose lives you advocate ruining.
Amanda, the ends do not justify the means.
Well? What's wrong with you fuckheads? Don't you care about freedom? Or pleasure?
Sex should be about intimacy and giving and receiving pleasure.
I thought you fuckheads claimed to be sex positive?
What the fuck are you doing letting culture get between you and intimacy? I thought you had more guts and brains than that.
Speaking of guts and brains, my new fan really admires Amanda's:
I’ve listened to Johnny Cash Lady, and you ain’t no Johnny Cash. Hell, you ain’t even CarrotTop.
Sides which Cash has said he wore black to differentiate himself at the Opry. In other words, all these purty words aside, he did it for money.
Is that what you’re saying? You wear anger as a bullshit facade to differentiate yourself?
Amanda, you come off as very shallow, insecure, and ignorant, and bullying your way through life.
But for real guts and brains, you just can't beat Glenn Sacks:
I actually believe that if people at this site were to read Glenn Sacks’ readings (or his postings at his blog) you would honestly find Glenn Sacks to be a progressive liberal and in many ways a feminist.
You would certainly find him an intellectually honest “opponent” that you could work with.
Good to know! Any closing thoughts, anon?
. . . when good, honest, progressive, open liberals say that Amanda Marcotte and Pandagon have more in common with the Free Republic, and Little Green Footballs, and Red State, and Patterico, and Protein Wisdom, and the Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler than they do with good honest progressive open liberals it means that we prefer dialogue, and conversation, and an exchange of ideas, and we dislike echo chambers and circle jerks.
[applause]
So there you go. It being a crime not to provide proper context nowadays, I hope I've fulfilled my obligations in that regard.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Hee!
Major nostalgia.
(Via email from Chris Clarke, once again doing his part to misrepresent music in Spanish.)
(Via email from Chris Clarke, once again doing his part to misrepresent music in Spanish.)
Themes Repeat
Donna is smart. Sometimes I get lucky and Donna visits me and says smart things here too, like for instance:
Bingo. It's the attitude. The elitist, know-it-all, everything-adjusted-to-my-comfort-zone attitude.
I get accused of having that attitude myself. Like, if I participate in a thread on a feminist blog criticizing a particular thing--oh no, that must mean I'm expecting the world to be tailored to me-me-me all the time.
'Scuse me, pardon me, but NO. That is incorrect.
See, if I thought everything should be tailored to me, I'd be over at the blog that didn't accommodate me, demanding it start accommodating me this instant, I mean right now!
And I didn't go over to Sadly, No! during the fat wars and do that. Sadly, No! is what it is. I didn't expect it to change much.
But I sure as hell expected that feminists could have a body image discussion on a feminist blog, even if it was about content posted elsewhere, without being told to shut the fuck up and quit boring the big liberal boys with our trivial fucking problems.
So some of us said that: "Hey, you don't have to be here getting bored with our trivial fucking problems, you know. You can leave and stuff."
And when that was said, the response was, "But this post is titled 'Go Fuck Yourself'." And then the feminists said, "But that's a reference to something Dick Cheney said, don't you get it?" And then the response to that was, "But this post is titled 'Go Fuck Yourself', that's what I saw in my referrers, 'go fuck yourself', and that's so wrong." And then we said, "Okaaay, I think maybe you don't understand the culture here," and they said "I find it really offensive that you think we need to learn about your stupid culture in the first damn place." And then I threw up.
Is any of this looking at all familiar?
Because the funny thing is, for people who supposedly wanted to dictate what could and could not be said, what jokes could and could not be made--for people who wanted to stamp out free speech!!!--well, I don't mean to insult us, but doesn't it seem as though maybe we were being pretty lazy in the way we set about doing that? Because we were not over there, crashing the gates and demanding the immediate application and enforcement of Our Rules. We were kind of sitting around our own space yakking, you know, how the fat people love to do.
Oh, what else does this remind me of. What else, what else, what else.
This is it, really. Here it is, the secret formula for the prevention of further trivial and boring and stupid blogfeuds that you, as a very important blogger, cannot possibly spend a moment's time weighing the various arguments of, though you can certainly spend days dismissing the idea that there should be any arguments made in the first place: Find out how much a loaf of bread costs. Because that is who you sound like, when you step gingerly out of your big liberal blog environment to see what the niche blogs--the feminist blogs, the Tennessee blogs, the race blogs, the queer blogs--you sound about this dumb. It's not because you are that dumb, or at least that isn't necessarily the reason; it's more because you can't accept that (1) there's stuff out there you don't understand and (2) some of that stuff is important to people, and especially (3) I don't care if you're the fucking Elvis of blogging, you don't have the right to decide what's important, or even how shit works, outside your own virtual Graceland.
So I don't want to hear that Brittney should have done this or should have done that because that's how blogging is done. No, that's how you do blogging, Elvis. And incidentally, "In The Ghetto" really made me almost hate you.
If you don't know how things work outside your own world, then for the love of sweet reason, put a sock in it until you figure it out. And if you cannot do this then will you at LEAST back the fuck off when someone who does know tells you, "Hey, things don't work like that here?" Instead of insisting, insisting, insisting that things work JUST the way you're used to and comfortable with?
When you travel to Europe, do the electrical outlets confound you? Ever tried to force one? I must know.
But you notice something else, almost all these blogwars aren't really about the initial complaint, and neither is this one. The TN bloggers and Brittany herself came in and explained who she is and how she does things. That's when JG started digging.
. . .
This is just like Kos with the pie fight, the ad was just a tiny blip on people's radar, it was attacking and demeaning progressive women that blew up all over the place. That was some nasty crap written by a conservative asswipe for sure, and that writer should have been condemned by all for it, but it is easier to attack and demean progressive women.
Bingo. It's the attitude. The elitist, know-it-all, everything-adjusted-to-my-comfort-zone attitude.
I get accused of having that attitude myself. Like, if I participate in a thread on a feminist blog criticizing a particular thing--oh no, that must mean I'm expecting the world to be tailored to me-me-me all the time.
'Scuse me, pardon me, but NO. That is incorrect.
See, if I thought everything should be tailored to me, I'd be over at the blog that didn't accommodate me, demanding it start accommodating me this instant, I mean right now!
And I didn't go over to Sadly, No! during the fat wars and do that. Sadly, No! is what it is. I didn't expect it to change much.
But I sure as hell expected that feminists could have a body image discussion on a feminist blog, even if it was about content posted elsewhere, without being told to shut the fuck up and quit boring the big liberal boys with our trivial fucking problems.
So some of us said that: "Hey, you don't have to be here getting bored with our trivial fucking problems, you know. You can leave and stuff."
And when that was said, the response was, "But this post is titled 'Go Fuck Yourself'." And then the feminists said, "But that's a reference to something Dick Cheney said, don't you get it?" And then the response to that was, "But this post is titled 'Go Fuck Yourself', that's what I saw in my referrers, 'go fuck yourself', and that's so wrong." And then we said, "Okaaay, I think maybe you don't understand the culture here," and they said "I find it really offensive that you think we need to learn about your stupid culture in the first damn place." And then I threw up.
Is any of this looking at all familiar?
Because the funny thing is, for people who supposedly wanted to dictate what could and could not be said, what jokes could and could not be made--for people who wanted to stamp out free speech!!!--well, I don't mean to insult us, but doesn't it seem as though maybe we were being pretty lazy in the way we set about doing that? Because we were not over there, crashing the gates and demanding the immediate application and enforcement of Our Rules. We were kind of sitting around our own space yakking, you know, how the fat people love to do.
Oh, what else does this remind me of. What else, what else, what else.
This is it, really. Here it is, the secret formula for the prevention of further trivial and boring and stupid blogfeuds that you, as a very important blogger, cannot possibly spend a moment's time weighing the various arguments of, though you can certainly spend days dismissing the idea that there should be any arguments made in the first place: Find out how much a loaf of bread costs. Because that is who you sound like, when you step gingerly out of your big liberal blog environment to see what the niche blogs--the feminist blogs, the Tennessee blogs, the race blogs, the queer blogs--you sound about this dumb. It's not because you are that dumb, or at least that isn't necessarily the reason; it's more because you can't accept that (1) there's stuff out there you don't understand and (2) some of that stuff is important to people, and especially (3) I don't care if you're the fucking Elvis of blogging, you don't have the right to decide what's important, or even how shit works, outside your own virtual Graceland.
So I don't want to hear that Brittney should have done this or should have done that because that's how blogging is done. No, that's how you do blogging, Elvis. And incidentally, "In The Ghetto" really made me almost hate you.
If you don't know how things work outside your own world, then for the love of sweet reason, put a sock in it until you figure it out. And if you cannot do this then will you at LEAST back the fuck off when someone who does know tells you, "Hey, things don't work like that here?" Instead of insisting, insisting, insisting that things work JUST the way you're used to and comfortable with?
When you travel to Europe, do the electrical outlets confound you? Ever tried to force one? I must know.
Well Then
Is there even any point anymore?
I, for one, will not panic. Everyone knows mistakes are never made in bureaucracies, so obviously, obviously, if you were to wind up locked in or out of the United States, it would be because you did something bad and you deserved it.
And even if mistakes were to be made it would be no problem, because then you would just--
--be up shit creek without a paddle. Okay! Sounds good!
Man, I sure wish the terrorists would quit hating our bitchin' freedom so we could have some of it back.
The federal government disclosed details yesterday of a border-security program to screen all people who enter and leave the United States, create a terrorism risk profile of each individual and retain that information for up to 40 years.
I, for one, will not panic. Everyone knows mistakes are never made in bureaucracies, so obviously, obviously, if you were to wind up locked in or out of the United States, it would be because you did something bad and you deserved it.
And even if mistakes were to be made it would be no problem, because then you would just--
According to yesterday's notice, the program is exempt from certain requirements of the Privacy Act of 1974 that allow, for instance, people to access records to determine "if the system contains a record pertaining to a particular individual" and "for the purpose of contesting the content of the record."
--be up shit creek without a paddle. Okay! Sounds good!
Man, I sure wish the terrorists would quit hating our bitchin' freedom so we could have some of it back.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Hurl
A test. I call it "Are You a White Male Progressive?"
Read, read, read, throw up.
Back on hiatus for me. I hate whitemaleprogressives so much right now, you don't even know. Can you fuckers do ANYTHING right? Fight the real enemy, my sweet fat ass.
Well, no loss. I always did prefer reading Nez at his own joint.
UPDATE: "Brittany screwed up posting that vile crap without comment, but apparently, she did so for it’s ironic value. I, of all people, understand how hard it is to pull that off successfully. She blew it. She should acknowledge that and apologize to everyone who cared about Steve."
Okay, I get it: You wanted things pureed, contextualized, and spoon-fed to you. Under no circumstances were you willing to accept the words of others who kindly stepped in to do this for you (breaking! Smantix is an asshole!); no, only Brittney's special touch would do.
That's nice. Hey, is this you maybe?
Some of us took the time to figure out what the fuck was going on. Some of us contextualized the situation our very own grownup selves (but then, some of us grew up in the days before 24-hour news channels and the internet, so perhaps some of us shouldn't take any credit for this ability, seeing as how it developed from necessity rather than choice.).
But you couldn't, or wouldn't, do this. And now you think--still!--that you're the one owed the apology? For what? For your dogged insistence on continuing to behave like a whiny-ass titty baby? For your stubborn refusal to just stop digging?
Tell me something: If you have a job, then as of today . . . do you still have a job? Because Brittney Gilbert doesn't.
So take your desperate, aching need for pre-provided context and fucking cram it. And please, quit being so thin-skinned. There's no need for all this drama.
Asshole.
In the wake of a prominent liberal blogger's death, a liberal media personality reposts an excerpt from a particularly loathesome "obituary" authored by a wingnut shitstain, without commentary save for a caustic title implying distaste for said excerpt, and by extension, said wingnut shitstain. In response, you, as an esteemed progressive blogger:
(a) Join the ensuing thread to agree that said wingnut shitstain behaved in a subhuman manner.
(b) Join the ensuing thread to argue against giving this shitstain a moment's more attention, which would of course be more attention than he deserves.
(c) Ignore wingnut shitstain. Instead, post on your blog a call to have this media personality held accountable for reposting the words of this wingnut shitstain. Encourage your readers to notify her employer and her local representatives of her reprehensible behavior.
Read, read, read, throw up.
Back on hiatus for me. I hate whitemaleprogressives so much right now, you don't even know. Can you fuckers do ANYTHING right? Fight the real enemy, my sweet fat ass.
Well, no loss. I always did prefer reading Nez at his own joint.
UPDATE: "Brittany screwed up posting that vile crap without comment, but apparently, she did so for it’s ironic value. I, of all people, understand how hard it is to pull that off successfully. She blew it. She should acknowledge that and apologize to everyone who cared about Steve."
Okay, I get it: You wanted things pureed, contextualized, and spoon-fed to you. Under no circumstances were you willing to accept the words of others who kindly stepped in to do this for you (breaking! Smantix is an asshole!); no, only Brittney's special touch would do.
That's nice. Hey, is this you maybe?
It reminds me of sitting in a movie theater in Berkeley with Becky and Ron and Joe watching O Brother Where Art Thou, and having a handful of the audience members applaud when the Cyclops Klan character played by John Goodman got spanked by the burning cross. Because, you know, it’s possible that the rest of the audience in Berkeley might actually have felt support for the Klansmen in the movie, and only by the brave action of booing Klansmen in a dark movie house in Berkeley, California could those folks make sure that their stalwart opposition to cartoon evil was made known in every possible venue. One wonders if those folks hiss “sexist!” at Snidely Whiplash when watching the Cartoon Network.
Some of us took the time to figure out what the fuck was going on. Some of us contextualized the situation our very own grownup selves (but then, some of us grew up in the days before 24-hour news channels and the internet, so perhaps some of us shouldn't take any credit for this ability, seeing as how it developed from necessity rather than choice.).
But you couldn't, or wouldn't, do this. And now you think--still!--that you're the one owed the apology? For what? For your dogged insistence on continuing to behave like a whiny-ass titty baby? For your stubborn refusal to just stop digging?
Tell me something: If you have a job, then as of today . . . do you still have a job? Because Brittney Gilbert doesn't.
So take your desperate, aching need for pre-provided context and fucking cram it. And please, quit being so thin-skinned. There's no need for all this drama.
Asshole.
DO NOT WANT
Could someone who knows art please tell me whether the below image is a famous painting or something? Be kind, please, and recall that I am an idiot, and not just artistically.
So Brownfemipower was asking about books on adult attention deficit disorder the other day, and that reminded me that I have, figuratively speaking, many rivers to cross if I'm ever going to finish Women with Attention Deficit Disorder, because I've only just started it and it's a long one.
I picked the book up again tonight, but then I did not really feel like soldiering on, so I just started flipping pages, eventually landing on the beginning of the section of the book titled, "Emergence." The above serves as the accompanying illustration for "Emergence."
And, well--this just wasn't the sort of emergence I was looking for, you know? I like dicks and all, but that doesn't mean I want one emerging from my chin, growing up towards my hairline and threatening to fwap me on the bridge of the nose every time I lean my pretty head back. And I have enough trouble keeping my boobs aligned as it is; I don't need to encourage the emergence of the left one every time I have a seat, either.
I don't know about me and this book, y'all. I just don't know.
But it did get my attention, I'll give it that.
So Brownfemipower was asking about books on adult attention deficit disorder the other day, and that reminded me that I have, figuratively speaking, many rivers to cross if I'm ever going to finish Women with Attention Deficit Disorder, because I've only just started it and it's a long one.
I picked the book up again tonight, but then I did not really feel like soldiering on, so I just started flipping pages, eventually landing on the beginning of the section of the book titled, "Emergence." The above serves as the accompanying illustration for "Emergence."
And, well--this just wasn't the sort of emergence I was looking for, you know? I like dicks and all, but that doesn't mean I want one emerging from my chin, growing up towards my hairline and threatening to fwap me on the bridge of the nose every time I lean my pretty head back. And I have enough trouble keeping my boobs aligned as it is; I don't need to encourage the emergence of the left one every time I have a seat, either.
I don't know about me and this book, y'all. I just don't know.
But it did get my attention, I'll give it that.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Blood, Boiling
Main Entry: 2ex·ploit 
Pronunciation: ik-'sploit, 'ek-"
Function: transitive verb
1 : to make productive use of : UTILIZE <exploiting your talents> <exploit your opponent's weakness>
2 : to make use of meanly or unfairly for one's own advantage <exploiting migrant farm workers>
- ex·ploit·abil·i·ty /ik-"sploi-t&-'bi-l&-tE/ noun
- ex·ploit·able /-'sploi-t&-b&l/ adjective
- ex·ploit·er noun
It's the second definition that applies here:
You ever have one of those times when you're so appalled you simply don't know what to say? I am having one of those times right now.
When I am dictator of the world, women like Rodriguez will not be allowed anywhere near Afghanistan in the first damn place. But if heaven forbid such women should thwart my decree and go on to pull such exploitative, unconscionable, greed-motivated shenanigans, rest assured that they will, upon being caught, BEG me to be allowed to return to Afghanistan as slaves of the women they did this to, rather than suffer the far less merciful fates I've decreed for them.
Vile. This is just so vile I can't stand it.
UPDATE: I couldn't remember how I'd found this (I am scatterbrained) and was assuming I'd got it from Google News. WRONG! This vileosity brought to you courtesy of Shannon.
UPDATE II: I see I was so pissed off when I posted this that I used "decree" twice in the second-to-last paragraph. I'll leave it, but know that I am ashamed. Ashamed, I tell you.
Pronunciation: ik-'sploit, 'ek-"
Function: transitive verb
1 : to make productive use of : UTILIZE <exploiting your talents> <exploit your opponent's weakness>
2 : to make use of meanly or unfairly for one's own advantage <exploiting migrant farm workers>
- ex·ploit·abil·i·ty
/ik-"sploi-t&-'bi-l&-tE/ noun- ex·ploit·able
/-'sploi-t&-b&l/ adjective- ex·ploit·er noun
It's the second definition that applies here:
But back in Afghanistan, the subjects of her book say Rodriguez and her newfound fame have put their lives in danger. They say they've seen none of the money or help to get them out of Afghanistan that Rodriguez promised them in exchange for having their stories appear in the book.
Tuesday, two Afghan women with a copy of the book arrived in an unmarked car with armed guards and burst into the beauty school. There, they threatened the girls, saying they would pay for defaming Afghanistan.
And the landlord is threatening to seize the school's building for non-payment of thousands of dollars in rent.
As for Rodriguez, she left Afghanistan in mid-May, after selling her share of a coffee house that she bought with proceeds from the book.
You ever have one of those times when you're so appalled you simply don't know what to say? I am having one of those times right now.
Rodriguez says that she knows the women are angry and terrified — but that they should realize that things take time. She also claims the girls misunderstood what she promised them.
She says she plans to give the girls a small part of the royalties from the book, along with 5 percent of her earnings from the movie Sony Pictures is planning.
"I never, never in a million years would abandon them," Rodriguez said. "I had to leave, but I can do more good for them here." She says she has no plans to return to Afghanistan.
When I am dictator of the world, women like Rodriguez will not be allowed anywhere near Afghanistan in the first damn place. But if heaven forbid such women should thwart my decree and go on to pull such exploitative, unconscionable, greed-motivated shenanigans, rest assured that they will, upon being caught, BEG me to be allowed to return to Afghanistan as slaves of the women they did this to, rather than suffer the far less merciful fates I've decreed for them.
Vile. This is just so vile I can't stand it.
UPDATE: I couldn't remember how I'd found this (I am scatterbrained) and was assuming I'd got it from Google News. WRONG! This vileosity brought to you courtesy of Shannon.
UPDATE II: I see I was so pissed off when I posted this that I used "decree" twice in the second-to-last paragraph. I'll leave it, but know that I am ashamed. Ashamed, I tell you.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Theriomorph Wastes All my Damn Time
First it was the Jackie Chan video, which only led me to more Jackie Chan videos. Why didn't I think to look for these goodies on YouTube before? Oh, right!--Because I wanted to GET THINGS DONE in life.
And then it turns out Theriomorph and I have similar tastes in music.
Anyone who attempts to deny that this is the greatest video in the history of the world will be shot.
And then it turns out Theriomorph and I have similar tastes in music.
Anyone who attempts to deny that this is the greatest video in the history of the world will be shot.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
This Doesn't Count As Blogging, You Know
It's just linking, and cheering, and being awestruck. Ballastexistenz on community:
Yeah, that's all you get. For the rest--GO.
Good allies don’t threaten to cut off their support every time they hear something that makes them uncomfortable.
Critiquing the priorities and power of a group that someone belongs to might just be a sign they care about that group, not a sign that they are evil incarnate or “infighting” or all that crap.
Critiquing power structures that benefit certain people above others is not the same thing as saying these are bad people who must go away and leave us alone and that we don’t appreciate them.
At the same time, it’s not always our job to reassure you that you’re not evil and awful and stuff. At some point just decide that as axiomatic and move on to something constructive like figuring out what’s right and wrong and trying to do what’s right.
Yeah, that's all you get. For the rest--GO.
Blogger's Done a Bad, Bad Thing
I don't know why I thought this was a good idea. I really, really don't.
Wait! Don't click that up there without something to fortify you first. The video below is neither a cover nor a bad song. It is not a real video and the imagery is boring, but be grateful for that, for many images are interesting in only the most horrifying ways. Drink and be quenched, drink and be sustained for the long road ahead.
Which road is very, very bad and wicked. Again: I am so sorry.
Also a helpful prophylactic: Every codependent's theme song!
Wait! Don't click that up there without something to fortify you first. The video below is neither a cover nor a bad song. It is not a real video and the imagery is boring, but be grateful for that, for many images are interesting in only the most horrifying ways. Drink and be quenched, drink and be sustained for the long road ahead.
Which road is very, very bad and wicked. Again: I am so sorry.
Also a helpful prophylactic: Every codependent's theme song!
Friday, June 01, 2007
Which Is Not to Say I Won't Post Once in a Blue Moon
And--why, look! Here's one right now.
Okay, first, the boring clarification: I am fine, all is well, but again I find I need money, and again I recall that I never put up AdSense or anything like that, so again I kick myself and again I commit to typing more doctors.
Second, in order but not importance: Holy crumb, is there some good discussion here or what? And yes: Like all good discussions, it is lengthy. If you absolutely must have a short version, Blackamazon follows up and highlights some favorite points here.
I stay out, I mean far, far out, of the sex-pos/radfem debates. And stop your typing fingers right there, missy, because I know the very terms themselves are a problem, not so much radfem as "sex-pos," and I know in real life feminists don't always line up neatly into one category or the other, and in fact, that is my point: Neither do I. I like both. I reserve the right to agree with anyone at any time for any reason, whether it makes sense to anyone else or not. And you can substitute "disagree" for "agree" in the preceding sentence and have it be equally true, as some disappointed team players learned last week.
That said, you can probably tell from what I write and who I link to that I lean slightly towards the radical feminist side. I attribute this to my being a little old and a lot prudey, and I don't care. I will turn 38 in a week, and that's old enough to have reached a comfort zone with my own desire level, and--this is the best part--to understand and accept that my comfort zone and your comfort zone may not intersect at all, AND THAT IS OKAY. Get your freak on! I'll be over here with a book. Or I may be getting my own freak on, but you are not going to read about that here because my policy is, no posting about my girl parts unless I do something spectacularly stupid with them, at which point they become a comedy prop, and, why, just call me Gallagher. But be honest: You're grateful I'm not pitching this particular prop at the audience, now, aren't you? See, so am I.
And that is my position in general on the sex wars: I refuse to assume any position, ho, ho.
But I am more definite about cultural appropriation. My position on that is that white people (1) do too much of it; (2) are seldom honest about what they're doing upon being caught doing it; and (3) when they do admit to appropriating, too often follow it up by telling you their very good, unimpeachable by reasonable persons, reasons for doing it.
Case in point, this fella.
I found that by reading this interview with Chris Crocker in The Stranger, via Chaos Theory (Lauren, Lauren, what have you done?). And reading the interview, my heart did bleed:
Okay: I can't say "I get it" as in, "I've been in this situation," because plainly I haven't. But so far as I'm able to get it, I get it. I get that Chris is a young gay man stuck in what the interviewer describes as a town that "seems to hate him." I get that he has black friends online and I get that not all black people find videos like the one above offensive.
And I get also that when white people are being stomped on by other white people, for whatever reason, the seemingly logical thing for them to do is to draw support from people with even more experience in being oppressed by white people, and those sadly experienced people do tend to be nonwhites.
Finally, I get that some cultural mixing goes on anyhow, and probably always will, and if I really thought it were such a terrible thing, I'd have to give up eating tamales just to be able to sleep at night, and me giving up tamales, that is not going to happen.
The problem is that it's almost always one way. I've been trying off and on all night to come up with an example of resistance initiated by whites against other whites that wasn't originally borrowed from people of color, and I can't think of too many. Why, white people, when we rebel, do we always have to jump someone else's oppression train? And how many of us, once we're feeling a little better, once we've escaped our repressive Bible Belt towns for Hollywood or New York or Paris, jump right back off that train and wave bye-bye to the people still riding it, shouting after them some nicey-nice version of "So long, suckers"?
Thanks for letting me borrow your Compton slang. It really helped me tell my youth minister to fuck off in a creative way.
Thanks for telling me about Cesar Chavez. I may have to quote that guy the next time Harvey complains about doing his share of the housework.
Thanks for the book on Tantric tradition! So like is it true you can have sex for eight hours with this stuff? My lover is so busy these days, I'm lucky to get eight minutes.
I know there are whole schools of theory on this stuff about which I know nothing, nothing, but how hard is it not to ABS: Always Be Stealing? Or is the above video not stealing at all? Am I wrong to view it as stealing? I don't know, honestly, but something doesn't feel right to me. It feels to me as though once again, someone out there is confusing entitlement with empowerment.
Okay, first, the boring clarification: I am fine, all is well, but again I find I need money, and again I recall that I never put up AdSense or anything like that, so again I kick myself and again I commit to typing more doctors.
Second, in order but not importance: Holy crumb, is there some good discussion here or what? And yes: Like all good discussions, it is lengthy. If you absolutely must have a short version, Blackamazon follows up and highlights some favorite points here.
I stay out, I mean far, far out, of the sex-pos/radfem debates. And stop your typing fingers right there, missy, because I know the very terms themselves are a problem, not so much radfem as "sex-pos," and I know in real life feminists don't always line up neatly into one category or the other, and in fact, that is my point: Neither do I. I like both. I reserve the right to agree with anyone at any time for any reason, whether it makes sense to anyone else or not. And you can substitute "disagree" for "agree" in the preceding sentence and have it be equally true, as some disappointed team players learned last week.
That said, you can probably tell from what I write and who I link to that I lean slightly towards the radical feminist side. I attribute this to my being a little old and a lot prudey, and I don't care. I will turn 38 in a week, and that's old enough to have reached a comfort zone with my own desire level, and--this is the best part--to understand and accept that my comfort zone and your comfort zone may not intersect at all, AND THAT IS OKAY. Get your freak on! I'll be over here with a book. Or I may be getting my own freak on, but you are not going to read about that here because my policy is, no posting about my girl parts unless I do something spectacularly stupid with them, at which point they become a comedy prop, and, why, just call me Gallagher. But be honest: You're grateful I'm not pitching this particular prop at the audience, now, aren't you? See, so am I.
And that is my position in general on the sex wars: I refuse to assume any position, ho, ho.
But I am more definite about cultural appropriation. My position on that is that white people (1) do too much of it; (2) are seldom honest about what they're doing upon being caught doing it; and (3) when they do admit to appropriating, too often follow it up by telling you their very good, unimpeachable by reasonable persons, reasons for doing it.
Case in point, this fella.
I found that by reading this interview with Chris Crocker in The Stranger, via Chaos Theory (Lauren, Lauren, what have you done?). And reading the interview, my heart did bleed:
. . . Chris took me to the nearby mall, a small cavern of beige floor tiles and pasty patrons, and gave me a tour that offered a new way of looking at this video, a way that made it much less funny. As we walked around, past the Sunglass Hut, past the pushy smells of scented candles and baking cookies, people stared hatefully at us, and mostly at him. They stared hard, with the kind of presumed right to glare that people in more sophisticated places wouldn't dare show.
. . .
Most young men like Chris, at loggerheads with their families and unwelcome in their communities, quickly give up. They either adapt to a closeted lifestyle or they run off to a big city, locate that city's gay neighborhood, take a job in a coffeeshop or bar or theater, and start anew. Chris may still do that. He's given himself until mid-June, the anniversary of his first internet video, to leverage enough money and opportunity out of his internet fame to escape his small town. If that doesn't work, he says, he'll consider doing something more old-fashioned, like buying a bus ticket.
Okay: I can't say "I get it" as in, "I've been in this situation," because plainly I haven't. But so far as I'm able to get it, I get it. I get that Chris is a young gay man stuck in what the interviewer describes as a town that "seems to hate him." I get that he has black friends online and I get that not all black people find videos like the one above offensive.
And I get also that when white people are being stomped on by other white people, for whatever reason, the seemingly logical thing for them to do is to draw support from people with even more experience in being oppressed by white people, and those sadly experienced people do tend to be nonwhites.
Finally, I get that some cultural mixing goes on anyhow, and probably always will, and if I really thought it were such a terrible thing, I'd have to give up eating tamales just to be able to sleep at night, and me giving up tamales, that is not going to happen.
The problem is that it's almost always one way. I've been trying off and on all night to come up with an example of resistance initiated by whites against other whites that wasn't originally borrowed from people of color, and I can't think of too many. Why, white people, when we rebel, do we always have to jump someone else's oppression train? And how many of us, once we're feeling a little better, once we've escaped our repressive Bible Belt towns for Hollywood or New York or Paris, jump right back off that train and wave bye-bye to the people still riding it, shouting after them some nicey-nice version of "So long, suckers"?
Thanks for letting me borrow your Compton slang. It really helped me tell my youth minister to fuck off in a creative way.
Thanks for telling me about Cesar Chavez. I may have to quote that guy the next time Harvey complains about doing his share of the housework.
Thanks for the book on Tantric tradition! So like is it true you can have sex for eight hours with this stuff? My lover is so busy these days, I'm lucky to get eight minutes.
I know there are whole schools of theory on this stuff about which I know nothing, nothing, but how hard is it not to ABS: Always Be Stealing? Or is the above video not stealing at all? Am I wrong to view it as stealing? I don't know, honestly, but something doesn't feel right to me. It feels to me as though once again, someone out there is confusing entitlement with empowerment.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Hiatus
Back in September. Nothing's wrong; it's just time for me to step back and figure out how much of my time I really want to spend arguing with various people on the internet. Right now, that quantity of time is zero. Too much else I want, and need, to work on.
Doesn't mean there won't perhaps be new posts here. You never know when Genni or Daddyslittlegirl are going to show up and amaze.
Have a great summer!
Doesn't mean there won't perhaps be new posts here. You never know when Genni or Daddyslittlegirl are going to show up and amaze.
Have a great summer!
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Clarifications
Just clearing up a few things here and there, some totally unrelated to each other, but all stuff I missed during all The Excitement:
The Girl From Marz was awfully kind to me here. Thank you, Girl From Marz! And thank you for reminding me of this conversation at Fetch Me My Axe. In it, Sara from F-Words astutely observes:
This is true, but I must say it was very mean of Sara to tap into the heart of my angst about that post having so many links into it like this. Meaning: Its chief feature, which I think is that it's conversational in tone and structure, and therefore easy to read, is also its chief flaw. My boyfriend and I have known each other going on eight years now, and like all longtime couples do, I suppose, we talk to each other in a sort of shorthand you wouldn't observe between people who had only recently met, or even people who had known each other six months, a year, etc.
So in the discussion, when we get to this bit:
--what he realizes, which Sara reminds me the reader may not realize, is that I am absolutely not giving him a free pass to stuff his hands in his pockets and walk away whistling that, yay, he's not the problem at all, ever! As Sara says, a lot of this stuff is unconscious, so to overcome it, first you have to recognize it: "Oops. I'm doing that thing, that asshole thing, again." And if your sole response to reading about racist or misogynist acts is, "Great Scott, what is wrong with these inhuman monsters? I would never," etc., you risk exempting yourself from self-examination where it might be desperately needed.
I could go off on a long tangent here about how there are still-to-this-day left-leaning political blogs that I won't read, because the focus is too much on Those Inhuman Monsters with Whom We Have Nothing, NOTHING in Common: Republican Voters. Instead, I will go off on only a short tangent:
Notice I didn't say "Dick Cheney" or "David Horowitz"--I'm fine with demonizing public figures nine times out of ten--but when it bleeds over into these asinine How Evil is Half the Country Anyway, Huh? discussions, I'm out. Because--and this was equally true for me when I was coming at this from the opposite direction, as a Republican--I'm still related to Republicans, just as back then I despised "Libruls R Traitors"-style blogs because I was still related to Democrats.
If you think Americans who vote Democrat are wicked traitorous monsters at heart, fuck you: That's my aunt we're talking about. And if you think Americans who vote Republican are vile capitalist pigs at heart, fuck you again: That's my mother we're talking about. Either way, I'm not down, and I sometimes think that the shorthand definition of feminism, that it's the radical notion that women are human beings, needs expansion, because I'm not sure we've even grasped yet that human beings are human beings.
End tangent. For more in that vein--not that specific vein, you understand, but on the general notion that humans is human (crazy talk!)--I'm going to direct you back to Belledame's for this. That woman's been on a roll lately. Much respect, Belledame.
To bring it back around to race for a minute, though, one more thing I appreciate about Sara's remarks is that, well, she's right: Too often the horrified gasps of How Could They? are not followed up with any introspection at all, i.e. "Wait, wait: While maybe I personally would not ever do such a thing, can I at least see (1) how someone else could and (2) what societal forces might influence them to do so and (3) what part, if any, I play in shoring up those forces?"
And here I just deleted a recent example of this dynamic at work because I'm in enough trouble for now, but read this post of Sylvia's about recent events in Jena, Louisiana, and, damnit, pay attention here:
Because that's it, exactly. That's what I'd like to see more emphasis on in coverage of racial hatred: How are we as a society contributing to it, and how do we stop? Throwing up our hands and saying "Oh, well, what will you? It's The South," is inadequate.
When I started this post I was certain I had somewhere to put this post at Tiny Cat Pants, also via Belledame. Now, of course, I can't remember for the life of me how I was planning to tie it in. Read it anyway, though. Especially:
And that brings me to my next clarification, which I'll save for its own post because I'm still working out the kinks: I owe Rachel of Rachel's Tavern a response to some questions she had for me at Feministe, questions prompted by my inept babbling upthread (and no, I don't know who the hell I think I am either). Apologies, Rachel! Threads the last few days have gotten away from me faster than my youngest cat trying to make an escape. Since the thread's gone stale I've been trying to sort out what I want to say and to an even greater extent, what I'm even thinking to begin with. I'll try to sort that all out and have something up here in the next day or two.
Finally (did I say "finally" already? Well, this is the REAL "finally," then), and this is not so much a clarification as a gush of admiration, Magniloquence of Feline Formal Shorts puts Chris Clarke through the mixer. Results are vastly more fabulous than frozen margaritas. Check it out!
The Girl From Marz was awfully kind to me here. Thank you, Girl From Marz! And thank you for reminding me of this conversation at Fetch Me My Axe. In it, Sara from F-Words astutely observes:
I don't think the "don't identify with the assholes" model really is very helpful, since we're talking about a lot of unconscious and inadvertent behavior here. I could just start to ignore anything that makes me uncomfortable, because I get to think, "Well, it's not me that's doing racist thing x, phew."
This is true, but I must say it was very mean of Sara to tap into the heart of my angst about that post having so many links into it like this. Meaning: Its chief feature, which I think is that it's conversational in tone and structure, and therefore easy to read, is also its chief flaw. My boyfriend and I have known each other going on eight years now, and like all longtime couples do, I suppose, we talk to each other in a sort of shorthand you wouldn't observe between people who had only recently met, or even people who had known each other six months, a year, etc.
So in the discussion, when we get to this bit:
"A lot of the guys written about on feminist blogs do things I would never do."
"Then don't identify with them. It's not about you! You stand to pee, they stand to pee, beyond that, what's the commonality?"
--what he realizes, which Sara reminds me the reader may not realize, is that I am absolutely not giving him a free pass to stuff his hands in his pockets and walk away whistling that, yay, he's not the problem at all, ever! As Sara says, a lot of this stuff is unconscious, so to overcome it, first you have to recognize it: "Oops. I'm doing that thing, that asshole thing, again." And if your sole response to reading about racist or misogynist acts is, "Great Scott, what is wrong with these inhuman monsters? I would never," etc., you risk exempting yourself from self-examination where it might be desperately needed.
I could go off on a long tangent here about how there are still-to-this-day left-leaning political blogs that I won't read, because the focus is too much on Those Inhuman Monsters with Whom We Have Nothing, NOTHING in Common: Republican Voters. Instead, I will go off on only a short tangent:
Notice I didn't say "Dick Cheney" or "David Horowitz"--I'm fine with demonizing public figures nine times out of ten--but when it bleeds over into these asinine How Evil is Half the Country Anyway, Huh? discussions, I'm out. Because--and this was equally true for me when I was coming at this from the opposite direction, as a Republican--I'm still related to Republicans, just as back then I despised "Libruls R Traitors"-style blogs because I was still related to Democrats.
If you think Americans who vote Democrat are wicked traitorous monsters at heart, fuck you: That's my aunt we're talking about. And if you think Americans who vote Republican are vile capitalist pigs at heart, fuck you again: That's my mother we're talking about. Either way, I'm not down, and I sometimes think that the shorthand definition of feminism, that it's the radical notion that women are human beings, needs expansion, because I'm not sure we've even grasped yet that human beings are human beings.
End tangent. For more in that vein--not that specific vein, you understand, but on the general notion that humans is human (crazy talk!)--I'm going to direct you back to Belledame's for this. That woman's been on a roll lately. Much respect, Belledame.
To bring it back around to race for a minute, though, one more thing I appreciate about Sara's remarks is that, well, she's right: Too often the horrified gasps of How Could They? are not followed up with any introspection at all, i.e. "Wait, wait: While maybe I personally would not ever do such a thing, can I at least see (1) how someone else could and (2) what societal forces might influence them to do so and (3) what part, if any, I play in shoring up those forces?"
And here I just deleted a recent example of this dynamic at work because I'm in enough trouble for now, but read this post of Sylvia's about recent events in Jena, Louisiana, and, damnit, pay attention here:
I also encourage you to stop yourself before distancing away from Jena and painting it as a special place with special problems. Our actions affect others’ realities. It is highly likely that if the school officials took decisive action after the nooses were placed on the tree, the resulting incidences would not have occurred. Perhaps I should say: we need to pay attention to those small matters and discuss them seriously before they escalate.
Because that's it, exactly. That's what I'd like to see more emphasis on in coverage of racial hatred: How are we as a society contributing to it, and how do we stop? Throwing up our hands and saying "Oh, well, what will you? It's The South," is inadequate.
When I started this post I was certain I had somewhere to put this post at Tiny Cat Pants, also via Belledame. Now, of course, I can't remember for the life of me how I was planning to tie it in. Read it anyway, though. Especially:
Look, I wrote a nice post on the spiritual implications of mythological and fairy-talish women who come in sets of three. I even used the term "we" without bothering to say, "We folks of European descent from a Christian/European pagan background." Three's an important number for us. It doesn't have the same importance to other cultures or, if it is important, not in the same ways. But I threw "we" out there like my audience all shares my same traditions, even if they don't practice them in the same way.
Is that racist? Yes. Is it the end of the world? No. Am I wrecked with guilt, as so many assume all good liberals are? No. But it is what it is, me forgetting that my experiences aren't standard.
It might not seem like the most insidious form of racism, but it is--because it's so easy to slip into, it's such a difficult habit to break, and it's hard to fight against.
And that brings me to my next clarification, which I'll save for its own post because I'm still working out the kinks: I owe Rachel of Rachel's Tavern a response to some questions she had for me at Feministe, questions prompted by my inept babbling upthread (and no, I don't know who the hell I think I am either). Apologies, Rachel! Threads the last few days have gotten away from me faster than my youngest cat trying to make an escape. Since the thread's gone stale I've been trying to sort out what I want to say and to an even greater extent, what I'm even thinking to begin with. I'll try to sort that all out and have something up here in the next day or two.
Finally (did I say "finally" already? Well, this is the REAL "finally," then), and this is not so much a clarification as a gush of admiration, Magniloquence of Feline Formal Shorts puts Chris Clarke through the mixer. Results are vastly more fabulous than frozen margaritas. Check it out!
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