Thursday, December 24, 2009
Quote of the Day
"Bah! Humbug!"
— Ebenezer Scrooge
— Ebenezer Scrooge
Labels:
quotes
Monday, December 21, 2009
Could I Have My Two Degrees Now?
Snowplows cleared the runway at Andrews Air Force Base in suburban Washington as President Obama returned from the climate summit in Copenhagen. The White House said Obama rode in a motorcade back to the White House, instead of taking his helicopter, because of the conditions.
"Anyone who still believes in global warming should be frozen until he admits that to be frozen is not the same as to be warmed."
— Avicenna
Two (or twenty, for that matter) degrees of global warming doesn't sound too bad right now.
Labels:
eco-terrorism,
found art,
law of identity,
Obamastan
Womb Raider: Legend Walkthrough, Level 1: San Francisco
Cut scene: Sarah gets a call from a law-abiding citizen that tells her that at a certain wedding chapel in San Francisco an illegal gay mass wedding is about to be perpetrated. McAllister flies her from Daft Manor to San Francisco. Shrub is airsick.
From Checkpoint 1, step forward to the front door of the wedding chapel. Interact with the door. It's locked. Shoot out the lock. Interact with the door again and Sarah kicks it open.
Enter the wedding chapel. Turn right and interact with the bronze reward in the vestibule to pick it up.
Enter the chapel proper. In the ensuing cut scene, Sarah reads the biblical riot act to the assembled homos.
Now be careful. The game is designed so that Sarah can't shoot the homos from the entrance or make it running down the aisle alive. Apparently, they're all with the Pink Pistols. At least that's what they pack (plus AKs and grenades), and they can make mincemeat of Sarah in seconds if she doesn't get out of the line of fire.
So jump to the first horizontal flagstaff either on the left or on the right wall. Swing along the wall from flagstaff to flagstaff. Jump to the altar and Checkpoint 2. Shoot the priest.
Take cover behind the stack of bibles on the altar. The homos' bullets cannot penetrate the bibles. Now you can gun them down at your leisure.
Pick up any health packs, grenades, AKs, and/or ammo the priest and the homos dropped. Grapple the rood, swing up to the ledge in the back. Grapple the A/C vent on the left. Duck in to pick up the silver reward.
Jump down. Interact with the stack of fake marriage licenses to set them on fire.
A short cut scene follows. Sarah spies something suspicious among the burning papers.
Roll forward, interact with the suspicious paper, jump back. This has to be done in quick succession, or Sarah will end up in the fire and burn to death.
Another cut scene: The paper turns out to be a piece of some document. The only intact words on it are: "Kenya Department of Health." Uh oh. That moment, a flashover sets the ceiling on fire. Seconds later, the roof near the front door collapses, barring that exit to Sarah.
Grapple the register in the floor. Drop down into the sewer whose fumes heat the homo chapel.
Proceed past Checkpoint 3 to the T intersection, shooting any sewer rats before they can bite Sarah. Turn left. Grab the ledge and pull up. Pick up the bronze reward.
Return to the intersection. Pass the branch to the chapel. Grapple swing across the main sewer. Turn around and grapple the bronze reward from the alcove on the other side.
Proceed along the side tunnel. Turn left into the second branch. Use the binoculars on the right wall. Shoot the crumbling section. Pick up the silver reward.
Return to the tunnel. Continue to the next main sewer. Jump in. In the cut scene, Sarah goes over a waterfall.
Swim ashore. Shoot the sewer rats on the ledge below the broken ladder. Grab the bottom iron spike. Swing up the iron spikes until you can jump to the lowest intact rung of the ladder. Shoot the rats above with the other hand.
Climb up the ladder. Shoot the manhole cover. Climb out into the basement to Checkpoint 4.
Grapple the vent under the stairs. Pick up the bronze reward.
Ascend the stairs to the waiting room of the abortion clinic. There's a phone on the deserted front desk. Don't touch it. The phone can be shot, but if that happens, the cops will come and shoot Sarah dead, and you'll have to revert to Checkpoint 4 and get the bronze reward again.
Shoot the mothers in the chairs in the head. Again, if you shoot them in the belly, a SWAT team will arrive and kill Sarah.
Shoot the medicine cabinet behind the desk (cabinet with Red Cross). Interact with the open cabinet to get the scalpel. Interact with the dead mothers to save the babies.
When Sarah has successfully performed the last Cesarean, bringing the gold reward into the world, a door in the back bursts open, releasing loads of nurses and doctors. If only one of them gets to the phone, Sarah's toast.
The nurses are unarmed, so you can shoot them at will. If you shoot a doctor, however, he will start throwing scalpels at Sarah. So you best use the AK to shoot the doctors, and try to target only one at a time. Once you kill the last nurse or doctor, Sarah climbs up to the roof, where McAllister picks her up with the helicopter.
From Checkpoint 1, step forward to the front door of the wedding chapel. Interact with the door. It's locked. Shoot out the lock. Interact with the door again and Sarah kicks it open.
Enter the wedding chapel. Turn right and interact with the bronze reward in the vestibule to pick it up.
Enter the chapel proper. In the ensuing cut scene, Sarah reads the biblical riot act to the assembled homos.
Now be careful. The game is designed so that Sarah can't shoot the homos from the entrance or make it running down the aisle alive. Apparently, they're all with the Pink Pistols. At least that's what they pack (plus AKs and grenades), and they can make mincemeat of Sarah in seconds if she doesn't get out of the line of fire.
So jump to the first horizontal flagstaff either on the left or on the right wall. Swing along the wall from flagstaff to flagstaff. Jump to the altar and Checkpoint 2. Shoot the priest.
Take cover behind the stack of bibles on the altar. The homos' bullets cannot penetrate the bibles. Now you can gun them down at your leisure.
Pick up any health packs, grenades, AKs, and/or ammo the priest and the homos dropped. Grapple the rood, swing up to the ledge in the back. Grapple the A/C vent on the left. Duck in to pick up the silver reward.
Jump down. Interact with the stack of fake marriage licenses to set them on fire.
A short cut scene follows. Sarah spies something suspicious among the burning papers.
Roll forward, interact with the suspicious paper, jump back. This has to be done in quick succession, or Sarah will end up in the fire and burn to death.
Another cut scene: The paper turns out to be a piece of some document. The only intact words on it are: "Kenya Department of Health." Uh oh. That moment, a flashover sets the ceiling on fire. Seconds later, the roof near the front door collapses, barring that exit to Sarah.
Grapple the register in the floor. Drop down into the sewer whose fumes heat the homo chapel.
Proceed past Checkpoint 3 to the T intersection, shooting any sewer rats before they can bite Sarah. Turn left. Grab the ledge and pull up. Pick up the bronze reward.
Return to the intersection. Pass the branch to the chapel. Grapple swing across the main sewer. Turn around and grapple the bronze reward from the alcove on the other side.
Proceed along the side tunnel. Turn left into the second branch. Use the binoculars on the right wall. Shoot the crumbling section. Pick up the silver reward.
Return to the tunnel. Continue to the next main sewer. Jump in. In the cut scene, Sarah goes over a waterfall.
Swim ashore. Shoot the sewer rats on the ledge below the broken ladder. Grab the bottom iron spike. Swing up the iron spikes until you can jump to the lowest intact rung of the ladder. Shoot the rats above with the other hand.
Climb up the ladder. Shoot the manhole cover. Climb out into the basement to Checkpoint 4.
Grapple the vent under the stairs. Pick up the bronze reward.
Ascend the stairs to the waiting room of the abortion clinic. There's a phone on the deserted front desk. Don't touch it. The phone can be shot, but if that happens, the cops will come and shoot Sarah dead, and you'll have to revert to Checkpoint 4 and get the bronze reward again.
Shoot the mothers in the chairs in the head. Again, if you shoot them in the belly, a SWAT team will arrive and kill Sarah.
Shoot the medicine cabinet behind the desk (cabinet with Red Cross). Interact with the open cabinet to get the scalpel. Interact with the dead mothers to save the babies.
When Sarah has successfully performed the last Cesarean, bringing the gold reward into the world, a door in the back bursts open, releasing loads of nurses and doctors. If only one of them gets to the phone, Sarah's toast.
The nurses are unarmed, so you can shoot them at will. If you shoot a doctor, however, he will start throwing scalpels at Sarah. So you best use the AK to shoot the doctors, and try to target only one at a time. Once you kill the last nurse or doctor, Sarah climbs up to the roof, where McAllister picks her up with the helicopter.
Labels:
values,
video games,
Womb Raider,
writing
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Tiger Woods Shouldn't Prostitute Himself
Much fundie hay has been made of the fact that Tiger Woods may lose a couple million dollars' worth of sponsors on account of his pick up artistry. Say he loses $10,000,000 from corporate sponsors that want to hawk their shit to fundies and thus sponsor only boring people.
At least, unlike the fundies who mortify their desires just to please their god and neighbors, he isn't a prostitute. I guess fundies only think of the first definition if they think about prostitutes (if you can call it thinking what they do):
prostitute
n.
1. One who solicits and accepts payment for sex acts.
2. One who sells one's abilities, talent, or name for an unworthy purpose.
tr.v. prostituted, prostituting, prostitutes
1. To offer (oneself or another) for sexual hire.
2. To sell (oneself or one's talent, for example) for an unworthy purpose.
The funny thing is, Woods prostitutes himself if he refuses to have sex with those women, to please his sponsors. If Woods values picking up a lot of chicks more highly than $10,000,000, and he rather takes the money than the value he really wants, he prostitutes himself.
Go, Tiger!
At least, unlike the fundies who mortify their desires just to please their god and neighbors, he isn't a prostitute. I guess fundies only think of the first definition if they think about prostitutes (if you can call it thinking what they do):
prostitute
n.
1. One who solicits and accepts payment for sex acts.
2. One who sells one's abilities, talent, or name for an unworthy purpose.
tr.v. prostituted, prostituting, prostitutes
1. To offer (oneself or another) for sexual hire.
2. To sell (oneself or one's talent, for example) for an unworthy purpose.
The funny thing is, Woods prostitutes himself if he refuses to have sex with those women, to please his sponsors. If Woods values picking up a lot of chicks more highly than $10,000,000, and he rather takes the money than the value he really wants, he prostitutes himself.
Go, Tiger!
Labels:
capitalism,
dictionary,
fun facts,
love,
religious fanatics,
values
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Womb Raider: Legend Overview
Availability:
Womb Raider: Legend is banned in the UK, Australia, and Germany. It is, however, available at Wal-Mart for $19.99, in the same shelf space from which Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas was pulled due to the hot coffee controversy. It even comes with a coupon from the Southboro Baptist Church for 10,000,000 hours of free internet access after your death.
Graphics:
Like with most video game heroines, Sarah Daft is designed to appear sexy to teenagers, or badass at times, rather than realistic. In the real world, nobody could run, climb, or swim in that dress or in those heels. Certainly not with a rifle slung over her back. Plus those twin pistols would of course be impossible to aim.
Personally, I'm annoyed by the fact that Sarah's a brunette. Well, you can't have everything. And that beehive hairstyle looks stupid, but must have been easier to animate than a braid. Honorable mention for challenging teenagers' assumptions about sexiness by giving Sarah those butt-ugly glasses. Plus she's somewhat less busty than the competition.
Otherwise, the graphics are impressive, like those wide open spaces Sarah can aimlessly ramble and even get lost in. The non-linearity, and sometimes sheer psychedelic surrealism, is beyond sane imagination. Only two words: turkey scene.
Cast of characters:
Sarah Daft
Sarah Daft is an adventurer, big-game hunter, and biblical scholar who seeks out sin and vice, fuelled by an obsession to execute the will of the great, ancient god. She is a superb athlete, fluent in a dozen hillbilly dialects, and will stop at nothing to get ahead.
When Sarah was crowned Miss Potato (she was the only contestant to have some teeth) in Womb Raider: The Angel of Darkness, and her adventure archeologist mentor Warmer von Cry continued to ignore her anyway, she murdered him and framed some weirdo Freemason/Shriner/Elk/whatever by the name of Elkhart for it. Now she's out to apply the final solution to all homos — and to all abortionists, drug fiends, fornicators, adulterers, and perverts, too.
McAllister:
An ex-Navy pilot that crash-landed one too many jetfighters on his carrier, McAllister now is Sarah's personal pilot and general right-hand (job) man. Always in contact with Sarah via her headset, he is able to instantly provide her with a wealth of misinformation by accessing spurious electronic reference resources, like Wikipedia and other online collateral misinformation databases. In his spare time, he tinkers around with electronics, developing new technology that might prove lethal to Gov. Daft in the field. In addition to being a savvy purveyor of all kinds of air disasters, McAllister is also a distinguished chef that has roasted whole bulls at some of the best barbecues in Arizona.
Shrub:
Shrub is Sarah's timid research assistant and a repository for a fantastic array of detailed biblical information. He confines his research to libraries and museums, however, concentrating on understanding and explaining what has already been found, as opposed to Sarah's search for new Sodoms. He's a fifteenth-year elementary student in special education and hasn't received his elementary school diploma because his belief that everything is connected to the great, ancient god makes it impossible for him to draw the boundaries required to stay in touch with reality.
Ollie:
Ollie's family has been with the Dafts for generations, and he has been the family butler since he was dishonorably discharged from the military in the eighties, just as his father before him. He moved into Daft Manor to stay as the only live-in staff when his wife died, before Sarah fell out of the idiot tree. He tends to all Sarah's household needs, going far beyond the duties of a traditional butler given Sarah's unusual lifestyle and pursuits, but he has never disappointed her. His loyalty to Sarah, her parents, and Daft Manor is beyond question.
Guns 'n' Gear:
Weapon-wise, Sarah starts out with just her twin pistols. Over the course of the game, she can acquire long guns, but she can carry only one long gun at a time: assault rifle, submachine gun, shotgun, or grenade launcher. If she picks up another long gun, she drops the one she had. She's got infinite ammo for her pistols, but she can carry only 150 rounds for her other gun. She can also acquire hand grenades (up to four) and health packs (up to three) which partially heal damage. What's more, Sarah starts out with binoculars, a flashlight, a magnetic grapple, and a headset to communicate with Shrub and McAllister.
Saving:
The game auto saves every time you pass a checkpoint. You can also save manually. However, when Sarah dies, or you reload a savegame, the game resumes at the previous checkpoint, so any progress past that point is lost.
Rewards:
Throughout each level there are hidden a number of bronze and silver statuettes, along with a single gold one. The more valuable rewards are of course harder to find. Once you have collected enough rewards, you can trade them for upgrades, like high capacity pistol magazines. Cheat codes can only be unlocked after you beat the "presidential election" minigame.
Womb Raider: Legend is banned in the UK, Australia, and Germany. It is, however, available at Wal-Mart for $19.99, in the same shelf space from which Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas was pulled due to the hot coffee controversy. It even comes with a coupon from the Southboro Baptist Church for 10,000,000 hours of free internet access after your death.
Graphics:
Like with most video game heroines, Sarah Daft is designed to appear sexy to teenagers, or badass at times, rather than realistic. In the real world, nobody could run, climb, or swim in that dress or in those heels. Certainly not with a rifle slung over her back. Plus those twin pistols would of course be impossible to aim.
Personally, I'm annoyed by the fact that Sarah's a brunette. Well, you can't have everything. And that beehive hairstyle looks stupid, but must have been easier to animate than a braid. Honorable mention for challenging teenagers' assumptions about sexiness by giving Sarah those butt-ugly glasses. Plus she's somewhat less busty than the competition.
Otherwise, the graphics are impressive, like those wide open spaces Sarah can aimlessly ramble and even get lost in. The non-linearity, and sometimes sheer psychedelic surrealism, is beyond sane imagination. Only two words: turkey scene.
Cast of characters:
Sarah Daft
Sarah Daft is an adventurer, big-game hunter, and biblical scholar who seeks out sin and vice, fuelled by an obsession to execute the will of the great, ancient god. She is a superb athlete, fluent in a dozen hillbilly dialects, and will stop at nothing to get ahead.
When Sarah was crowned Miss Potato (she was the only contestant to have some teeth) in Womb Raider: The Angel of Darkness, and her adventure archeologist mentor Warmer von Cry continued to ignore her anyway, she murdered him and framed some weirdo Freemason/Shriner/Elk/whatever by the name of Elkhart for it. Now she's out to apply the final solution to all homos — and to all abortionists, drug fiends, fornicators, adulterers, and perverts, too.
McAllister:
An ex-Navy pilot that crash-landed one too many jetfighters on his carrier, McAllister now is Sarah's personal pilot and general right-hand (job) man. Always in contact with Sarah via her headset, he is able to instantly provide her with a wealth of misinformation by accessing spurious electronic reference resources, like Wikipedia and other online collateral misinformation databases. In his spare time, he tinkers around with electronics, developing new technology that might prove lethal to Gov. Daft in the field. In addition to being a savvy purveyor of all kinds of air disasters, McAllister is also a distinguished chef that has roasted whole bulls at some of the best barbecues in Arizona.
Shrub:
Shrub is Sarah's timid research assistant and a repository for a fantastic array of detailed biblical information. He confines his research to libraries and museums, however, concentrating on understanding and explaining what has already been found, as opposed to Sarah's search for new Sodoms. He's a fifteenth-year elementary student in special education and hasn't received his elementary school diploma because his belief that everything is connected to the great, ancient god makes it impossible for him to draw the boundaries required to stay in touch with reality.
Ollie:
Ollie's family has been with the Dafts for generations, and he has been the family butler since he was dishonorably discharged from the military in the eighties, just as his father before him. He moved into Daft Manor to stay as the only live-in staff when his wife died, before Sarah fell out of the idiot tree. He tends to all Sarah's household needs, going far beyond the duties of a traditional butler given Sarah's unusual lifestyle and pursuits, but he has never disappointed her. His loyalty to Sarah, her parents, and Daft Manor is beyond question.
Guns 'n' Gear:
Weapon-wise, Sarah starts out with just her twin pistols. Over the course of the game, she can acquire long guns, but she can carry only one long gun at a time: assault rifle, submachine gun, shotgun, or grenade launcher. If she picks up another long gun, she drops the one she had. She's got infinite ammo for her pistols, but she can carry only 150 rounds for her other gun. She can also acquire hand grenades (up to four) and health packs (up to three) which partially heal damage. What's more, Sarah starts out with binoculars, a flashlight, a magnetic grapple, and a headset to communicate with Shrub and McAllister.
Saving:
The game auto saves every time you pass a checkpoint. You can also save manually. However, when Sarah dies, or you reload a savegame, the game resumes at the previous checkpoint, so any progress past that point is lost.
Rewards:
Throughout each level there are hidden a number of bronze and silver statuettes, along with a single gold one. The more valuable rewards are of course harder to find. Once you have collected enough rewards, you can trade them for upgrades, like high capacity pistol magazines. Cheat codes can only be unlocked after you beat the "presidential election" minigame.
Labels:
values,
video games,
Womb Raider,
writing
Thursday, November 26, 2009
A Thankful Turkey Day
Alex is totally thankful that The Obama and his little friend were elected and not McAlzheimer and the Turkey Crusher Woman.
And then that moron goes on about the government getting out of the way though she and McAlzheimer cheered on the bailout and she looted from oil companies. (Neither the State of Alaska nor the federal government did anything to improve the land. Hence, the land was still unowned when the oil companies came along. The oil companies established ownership of the land by drilling there and shouldn't have to pay tribute to the Alaskan mob and their ice queen.)
And then that moron goes on about the government getting out of the way though she and McAlzheimer cheered on the bailout and she looted from oil companies. (Neither the State of Alaska nor the federal government did anything to improve the land. Hence, the land was still unowned when the oil companies came along. The oil companies established ownership of the land by drilling there and shouldn't have to pay tribute to the Alaskan mob and their ice queen.)
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Nice People Are like…
Nice people are like carpet: They get walked all over.
Labels:
capitalism,
fun facts,
law of causality
You Know Your Play Flopped…
You know your latest play is a flop…
…if the audience goes, "Coup de grace! Coup de grace!" during the climactic dueling scene.
…if the audience goes, "Coup de grace! Coup de grace!" during the climactic dueling scene.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Woman to English Dictionary, Lesson One
Woman: "Surviving a tough spot without help serves you better. As newlyweds, my husband and I were both laid off, and I got pregnant, but we had a plan B, C and D. When you have to get creative about money, you get the best out of yourself."
English: "I made my husband work like a slave so he could buy me the home that I wanted. I accomplished that mostly by withholding sex. Fortunately, he believes women don't want sex as badly as men do, so he didn't call my bluff. Plus, he believes in monoamory, so he couldn't do what any sane human being would do, like, fuck somebody else. Excuse me, I'm gonna seduce the pool boy now."
English: "I made my husband work like a slave so he could buy me the home that I wanted. I accomplished that mostly by withholding sex. Fortunately, he believes women don't want sex as badly as men do, so he didn't call my bluff. Plus, he believes in monoamory, so he couldn't do what any sane human being would do, like, fuck somebody else. Excuse me, I'm gonna seduce the pool boy now."
Labels:
dictionary,
love
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Fundie Girl
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Labels:
music,
religious fanatics,
Sarah Palin,
writing
A Mop Is a Mop Is a Mop
Did you notice Sarah Palin's mop of a haircut?
As if her beehive wasn't bad enough.
That leaves only two options:
(A) Palin's hairdresser is a liberal or a libertarian.
(B) Palin's hair is just plain beyond a hairdresser's capacity to save.
Well, she ain't blond anyway, so WTF. I mean to say, what a mutt.
As if her beehive wasn't bad enough.
That leaves only two options:
(A) Palin's hairdresser is a liberal or a libertarian.
(B) Palin's hair is just plain beyond a hairdresser's capacity to save.
Well, she ain't blond anyway, so WTF. I mean to say, what a mutt.
Labels:
Sarah Palin
The Sitting Ducks of Fort Hood
Go figure:
The other day I thought it would be fun to bet people $10 that they wouldn't storm into a recruiting office with a (painted toy) gun, jump onto a desk, and scream, "Allahu Akbar!"
Thought that would be a pretty surefire way to earn a Darwin Award. Now it looks like you can do it with impunity — at least until the local police arrive.
And I thought the Fort Hood shooting was the exception that probed the rule "if the mere presence of a firearm caused a shooting wouldn't we have large numbers of shootings at gun shows, gun stores, police stations, and military bases instead of at schools?"
Checking your premises reveals that military bases rank with schools, not with gun shows, gun stores, and police stations.
When Maj. Nidal Malik Hasan started shooting up the Soldier Readiness Processing Center at Fort Hood, Pfc. Marquest Smith dove under a desk. The Associated Press reports that "he lay low for several minutes, waiting for the shooter to run out of ammunition and wishing he, too, had a gun."
Neither Smith nor the other victims of Hasan's assault had guns because soldiers on military bases within the United States generally are not allowed to carry them.
The other day I thought it would be fun to bet people $10 that they wouldn't storm into a recruiting office with a (painted toy) gun, jump onto a desk, and scream, "Allahu Akbar!"
Thought that would be a pretty surefire way to earn a Darwin Award. Now it looks like you can do it with impunity — at least until the local police arrive.
And I thought the Fort Hood shooting was the exception that probed the rule "if the mere presence of a firearm caused a shooting wouldn't we have large numbers of shootings at gun shows, gun stores, police stations, and military bases instead of at schools?"
Checking your premises reveals that military bases rank with schools, not with gun shows, gun stores, and police stations.
Labels:
going postal,
gun rights
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Look Cool Driving a Minivan
The only way to look cool driving a minivan consists of two simple steps:
(1) Scrap minivan.
(2) Buy roadster.
(1) Scrap minivan.
(2) Buy roadster.
Labels:
values
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Guns Don't Kill People — Arabs Kill People?
In the wake of the Fort Hood shooting, moon bats called for banning all guns. Wing nuts called for banning all Arabs.
Labels:
going postal,
gun rights,
values
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Top Ten Ways to Tell Your Kids the Goldfish Died
Unfortunately, the folks who made this here video on how to tell your kid the goldfish died forgot to consult Alex.
But fear not, for here are the real ten best ways to tell your kids the goldfish died:
(10) "You kids love Mr. Bigglesworth, don't you? See, today he's one happy and well-fed cat."
(9) "No, Mr. Bubbles isn't dead. He's just… drunk." (Is the pet store still open?)
(8) "Family, tonight there's fish for dinner!" Or, for our limey friends: "Chips, anyone?"
(7) "Otto West went thataway!"
(6) "Did you kids ever know that if it rains, it's the big fishbowl in heaven overflowing from another 'angelfish'? By the way, that little shower out there is Mr. Bubbles."
(5) "Guess who just won that excellent trip down the water slide in the bathroom?"
(4) "Small fry, I bought you this here elegant plastic fish. And the best thing is, it won't just die like Mr. Bubbles." (In fact, it'll still be around when the sun goes boom.)
(3) "Your mom's just died, so I'm gonna move in with my girlfriend. You kids I'm gonna sell into slavery in Saudi Arabia. And all your toys I'm gonna give to an orphanage. Only kidding, it's just that Mr. Bubbles died and I wanted to put things into perspective a bit."
(2) "Kids, I've got some good news and some bad news for you. The good news is Mr. Bubbles' earthly sufferings are over. The bad news is Roman Polanski moved in next door."
And the single best way to tell your kids the goldfish died is:
(1) "Kids, let's be frank, Mr. Bubbles is no more. But don't be sad, before he died I was able to upload his soul into this here tiny computer." (You didn't think you'd ever be able to reuse that Tamagotchi, did you?)
But fear not, for here are the real ten best ways to tell your kids the goldfish died:
(10) "You kids love Mr. Bigglesworth, don't you? See, today he's one happy and well-fed cat."
(9) "No, Mr. Bubbles isn't dead. He's just… drunk." (Is the pet store still open?)
(8) "Family, tonight there's fish for dinner!" Or, for our limey friends: "Chips, anyone?"
(7) "Otto West went thataway!"
(6) "Did you kids ever know that if it rains, it's the big fishbowl in heaven overflowing from another 'angelfish'? By the way, that little shower out there is Mr. Bubbles."
(5) "Guess who just won that excellent trip down the water slide in the bathroom?"
(4) "Small fry, I bought you this here elegant plastic fish. And the best thing is, it won't just die like Mr. Bubbles." (In fact, it'll still be around when the sun goes boom.)
(3) "Your mom's just died, so I'm gonna move in with my girlfriend. You kids I'm gonna sell into slavery in Saudi Arabia. And all your toys I'm gonna give to an orphanage. Only kidding, it's just that Mr. Bubbles died and I wanted to put things into perspective a bit."
(2) "Kids, I've got some good news and some bad news for you. The good news is Mr. Bubbles' earthly sufferings are over. The bad news is Roman Polanski moved in next door."
And the single best way to tell your kids the goldfish died is:
(1) "Kids, let's be frank, Mr. Bubbles is no more. But don't be sad, before he died I was able to upload his soul into this here tiny computer." (You didn't think you'd ever be able to reuse that Tamagotchi, did you?)
Labels:
love,
Roman Polanski,
top ten,
writing
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
But Will He Ever Show?
Don't buy a house from this man. ;)
Well, I guess you can try, but it will do you no good. :)
I think I know a chick or two that are related to him. :P
Well, I guess you can try, but it will do you no good. :)
I think I know a chick or two that are related to him. :P
Labels:
architecture,
found art
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Introducing Club Alex
Tonight I launch Club Alex, my secret stash, the ninth circle of hell where I post stuff so enlightened and true that it would be too outrageous and offensive to say in public while the world is barely out of the Dark Ages. Any fundies and fascists that read it will immediately be struck dead by the lightning of an apoplectic fit. The sort of stuff that makes the peasant mob reach for their torches and pitchforks and go try storm the castle of the bloodthirsty, virgin-debauching count.
In addition, there may be sneak previews of scenes that I for obvious reasons don't want to post in public and stuff.
Membership is first come, first served. The first hundred human beings (bots need not apply) who write me an email with "Club Alex" in the subject line are in. If you can't find my email on this site, you fail the admission test.
Blogger restricts private blogs to exactly one hundred readers. Once the big one oh oh is hit, no one else can get in before some closet fundie or closet fascist quits in disgust and/or someone dies.
In addition, there may be sneak previews of scenes that I for obvious reasons don't want to post in public and stuff.
Membership is first come, first served. The first hundred human beings (bots need not apply) who write me an email with "Club Alex" in the subject line are in. If you can't find my email on this site, you fail the admission test.
Blogger restricts private blogs to exactly one hundred readers. Once the big one oh oh is hit, no one else can get in before some closet fundie or closet fascist quits in disgust and/or someone dies.
Labels:
Gospel of Alex,
religious fanatics,
values,
writing
Friday, October 23, 2009
The Facts in the Case of M. Polanski: Check Your Premises
What does Roman Polanski have in common with Ayn Rand?
Both managed to infuriate both the moon bats and the wing nuts. And good.
Then again, Ayn Rand allegedly said, "All sex is Rape." So maybe Polanski should have fucked Rand instead, though of course that wouldn't have worked for him, as like most men he prefers young women over old ones.
Speaking of Ayn Rand, another gem of a comment on the Polanski case went about like this: If the girl had sex before, she was being abused before just like Polanski abused her.
This is a perfect example of a faith-based versus a reality-based approach.
Any reasonable person would at this point stop to check their premises, as Ayn Rand called it, to process the new evidence provided by reality. If the girl had sex twice before, maybe that is evidence that it's perfectly natural and normal for teenagers to have sex? Most of the time with other teenagers, but sometimes even with older people?
But faith does ordain: Sex is evil. Children are innocent. Teenagers are children. Ergo, teenagers don't have sex. If they do, they're being abused by evil deviants.
If it is shown that most all teenagers are having sex, I guess we'll have to lock up those little perverts and throw away the key. Maybe we'll actually have to release the weed smokers to make room in prisons.
And I'm sure you'll agree that those evil pedophiles that sleep with a girl shortly before her eighteenth birthday magically transforms her from a child into an adult should be locked into their very special maximum security prison. What's a real pedophile against an evil deviant possessing so little self-discipline that he flouts the people's law instead of waiting another week?
Both managed to infuriate both the moon bats and the wing nuts. And good.
Then again, Ayn Rand allegedly said, "All sex is Rape." So maybe Polanski should have fucked Rand instead, though of course that wouldn't have worked for him, as like most men he prefers young women over old ones.
Speaking of Ayn Rand, another gem of a comment on the Polanski case went about like this: If the girl had sex before, she was being abused before just like Polanski abused her.
This is a perfect example of a faith-based versus a reality-based approach.
Any reasonable person would at this point stop to check their premises, as Ayn Rand called it, to process the new evidence provided by reality. If the girl had sex twice before, maybe that is evidence that it's perfectly natural and normal for teenagers to have sex? Most of the time with other teenagers, but sometimes even with older people?
But faith does ordain: Sex is evil. Children are innocent. Teenagers are children. Ergo, teenagers don't have sex. If they do, they're being abused by evil deviants.
If it is shown that most all teenagers are having sex, I guess we'll have to lock up those little perverts and throw away the key. Maybe we'll actually have to release the weed smokers to make room in prisons.
And I'm sure you'll agree that those evil pedophiles that sleep with a girl shortly before her eighteenth birthday magically transforms her from a child into an adult should be locked into their very special maximum security prison. What's a real pedophile against an evil deviant possessing so little self-discipline that he flouts the people's law instead of waiting another week?
Labels:
Ayn Rand,
epistemology,
love,
religious fanatics,
Roman Polanski,
values
Thursday, October 22, 2009
The Facts in the Case of M. Polanski: Reification of the Law
Well, Polanski painted himself into a corner real nice. However he tells his story, the peasants ain't gonna like it.
Defending him is a real whack a mole job:
Polanski: She's lying. I didn't rape her. She wasn't unresponsive.
Peasants: Doesn't matter. She was a thirteen-year-old child.
Polanski: But a thirteen-year-old isn't a child; "age of consent" is just a legal fiction. It's not like I slept with a six-year-old or something.
Peasants: Doesn't matter. She testified you raped her.
Yes, Virginia, the peasants are revolting. Once you've refuted one prong of their pitchfork, they fall back on the other.
"A pedophile is a pedophile is a pedophile…" This gem was harvested from the internet.
Well, no. In this and similar cases, a "pedophile" is not a pedophile. A pedophile is a person that is attracted to children that for biological reasons shouldn't be having sex yet. If you look at the evidence in the case, that did not apply to the girl in question.
Look, Edgar Allan Poe married a fucking thirteen-year-old. Now, are you ashamed that one of the world's most celebrated authors was a "pedophile"? What are you gonna do now? Burn his books?
And guess how old Loretta Lynn was when she got married? Right. Thirteen.
What is really revolting here isn't Roman Polanski or "dirty old men." What is really revolting is the mob's approach to the law.
Now, Polanski may have been sailing awfully close to the wind picking up a fuck buddy. While he ought to be presumed innocent, a slap on his wrist, if not right or just, might not be a total outrage.
Yet that's not the consensus of the kangaroo court of public lynch mob opinion. Judging by the articles on the Polanski case and the comments they garner, the general tenor of the mob seems to be that not only Polanski, who slept with a thirteen-year-old, but anybody who sleeps with anybody else under eighteen is a "pedophile."
And, by god, he ought to be raped with a plunger, castrated, and locked up for good. And he ought to be glad he didn't get burned at the stake as he deserves.
Seventeen-year-old "children"? A seventeen-year-old is the same as a six-year-old? Just because the law says so?
I guess we really ought to crack down on those seventeen-year-old pedophiles that fuck sixteen-year-old pedophiles? If we don't murder them for their own good, they might even start smoking weed! We can really learn a lot from Iran, where such perverts are stoned to death.
So for those morons, what constitutes rape or pedophilia is not determined by the facts of reality, but by some arbitrary law, which in the case of California is clearly at variance with the facts. If you fuck a sixteen-year-old in most any civilized country, it's fine. If you fuck a sixteen-year-old in California, you're a "pedophile." Go figure.
I guess the laws of nature and the facts of biology will go out of their way to accommodate California law. Time to write another bull against the comet?
Someone who calls someone who sleeps with a seventeen-year-old woman a "pedophile" just because the arbitrary age of consent picked by the government of his jurisdiction is eighteen would just as well treat a tax evader as a thief because the law calls theft taxation and criminalizes keeping your own money. And worse.
"Sure, Officer Pig, I'll be glad to help you round up the Jews, as the law declares they're cattle."
What a cruel irony that Roman Polanski should have been victimized by that kind of fascist reification of the law twice in a lifetime.
Peasants, will you learn to think for yourselves, or will you help round up the Jews and the "pedophiles" if the law commands you to?
Defending him is a real whack a mole job:
Polanski: She's lying. I didn't rape her. She wasn't unresponsive.
Peasants: Doesn't matter. She was a thirteen-year-old child.
Polanski: But a thirteen-year-old isn't a child; "age of consent" is just a legal fiction. It's not like I slept with a six-year-old or something.
Peasants: Doesn't matter. She testified you raped her.
Yes, Virginia, the peasants are revolting. Once you've refuted one prong of their pitchfork, they fall back on the other.
"A pedophile is a pedophile is a pedophile…" This gem was harvested from the internet.
Well, no. In this and similar cases, a "pedophile" is not a pedophile. A pedophile is a person that is attracted to children that for biological reasons shouldn't be having sex yet. If you look at the evidence in the case, that did not apply to the girl in question.
Look, Edgar Allan Poe married a fucking thirteen-year-old. Now, are you ashamed that one of the world's most celebrated authors was a "pedophile"? What are you gonna do now? Burn his books?
And guess how old Loretta Lynn was when she got married? Right. Thirteen.
What is really revolting here isn't Roman Polanski or "dirty old men." What is really revolting is the mob's approach to the law.
Now, Polanski may have been sailing awfully close to the wind picking up a fuck buddy. While he ought to be presumed innocent, a slap on his wrist, if not right or just, might not be a total outrage.
Yet that's not the consensus of the kangaroo court of public lynch mob opinion. Judging by the articles on the Polanski case and the comments they garner, the general tenor of the mob seems to be that not only Polanski, who slept with a thirteen-year-old, but anybody who sleeps with anybody else under eighteen is a "pedophile."
And, by god, he ought to be raped with a plunger, castrated, and locked up for good. And he ought to be glad he didn't get burned at the stake as he deserves.
Seventeen-year-old "children"? A seventeen-year-old is the same as a six-year-old? Just because the law says so?
I guess we really ought to crack down on those seventeen-year-old pedophiles that fuck sixteen-year-old pedophiles? If we don't murder them for their own good, they might even start smoking weed! We can really learn a lot from Iran, where such perverts are stoned to death.
So for those morons, what constitutes rape or pedophilia is not determined by the facts of reality, but by some arbitrary law, which in the case of California is clearly at variance with the facts. If you fuck a sixteen-year-old in most any civilized country, it's fine. If you fuck a sixteen-year-old in California, you're a "pedophile." Go figure.
I guess the laws of nature and the facts of biology will go out of their way to accommodate California law. Time to write another bull against the comet?
Someone who calls someone who sleeps with a seventeen-year-old woman a "pedophile" just because the arbitrary age of consent picked by the government of his jurisdiction is eighteen would just as well treat a tax evader as a thief because the law calls theft taxation and criminalizes keeping your own money. And worse.
"Sure, Officer Pig, I'll be glad to help you round up the Jews, as the law declares they're cattle."
What a cruel irony that Roman Polanski should have been victimized by that kind of fascist reification of the law twice in a lifetime.
Peasants, will you learn to think for yourselves, or will you help round up the Jews and the "pedophiles" if the law commands you to?
Labels:
love,
Roman Polanski,
values
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The Facts in the Case of M. Polanski: There, but for the Grace of God, Goes Who?
One of the smears aimed at Roman Polanski's defenders and loyal friends is that they defend him because they think, "There, but for the grace of god, go I," i.e., that they're all closet "pedophiles." Well, there, but for the grace of god, go you, you, and particularly you (yes, you). (You know who you are.)
You pick up a chick, drink is taken, she takes an antihistamine, she's sorry in the morning, it turns out she's a couple days shy of her eighteenth birthday. Bang — congrats, you're in the same situation as Polanski.
You say you don't pick up chicks? You're a good Christian that sleeps only with his wedded wife?
Do you know how many women accuse their husband of raping them or their children once they want to take him to the cleaners? Look at the divorce rate for the probability that your wife's going to take you to the cleaners some day.
Think twice before you blindly believe the testimony of a woman that's sorry in the morning. (Sworn or not. It's not like people never perjure themselves.)
Think twice before you abandon the presumption of innocence for alleged pedophiles because those poor children are so cute and defenseless. Think twice before you call for the lynching of all "rapists" and "pedophiles."
The rape trial, it tolls for thee.
You pick up a chick, drink is taken, she takes an antihistamine, she's sorry in the morning, it turns out she's a couple days shy of her eighteenth birthday. Bang — congrats, you're in the same situation as Polanski.
You say you don't pick up chicks? You're a good Christian that sleeps only with his wedded wife?
Do you know how many women accuse their husband of raping them or their children once they want to take him to the cleaners? Look at the divorce rate for the probability that your wife's going to take you to the cleaners some day.
Think twice before you blindly believe the testimony of a woman that's sorry in the morning. (Sworn or not. It's not like people never perjure themselves.)
Think twice before you abandon the presumption of innocence for alleged pedophiles because those poor children are so cute and defenseless. Think twice before you call for the lynching of all "rapists" and "pedophiles."
The rape trial, it tolls for thee.
Labels:
love,
Roman Polanski
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
The Facts in the Case of M. Polanski: Age of Consent Is for Wankers
Really, what government moron came up with that age of consent nonsense? Any which way you cut it, it's just plain unjust.
If you set the age of consent too low, children will be abused. If you set it too high, people that are in fact mature enough to have sex will have their lovers wrongfully punished just because of some idiotic legal fiction. No matter what age of consent you pick, it will always be wrong for most people, as every individual develops, well, individually.
In a reasonable country, whether a person is physically, mentally, and emotionally mature enough to have sex would be decided individually on a case by case basis. In fact, to avoid all those after the fact statutory rape trials, people should get examined before they have sex.
Like getting a driver's license. If examining people individually to make sure that they drive safely is worth the cost, then keeping innocent people from getting wrongfully imprisoned just because they fucked someone under an arbitrary age should be more than worth the cost of such a program?
Of course a license in shape of an ID would be awkward, particularly in a time when many people are still ashamed to talk about sex. "Hey, baby, can I see your ID? I wanna fuck you later tonight."
How about a tattoo instead of an ID? I bet teenagers would find that cool, and it saves the trouble of asking awkward questions. And if someone really hates sex, then they simply won't apply to get that tattoo, so they'll never be bothered by being hit on, as it's obvious that they either don't want to or aren't allowed to have sex.
Who said there aren't any meaningful rites of passage in our society? Here's one for you.
And what does that mean for Roman Polanski? Well, it's way too late to examine his alleged victim, but from the examinations that were made and from the testimony that was recorded we know that:
His alleged victim was sexually active before the incident.
She had been having her period before.
She was not physically injured by whatever he did/didn't do to/with her.
So on the count of statutory "rape," "pedophilia," or "child" abuse we'll have to give Polanski the benefit of the doubt, as his alleged victim was physically mature enough to have sex, and it is too late to examine her psyche now.
And as there is no evidence for rape except for the alleged victim's unsupported claims, the upshot of the whole thing is:
Roman Polanski is innocent.
If you set the age of consent too low, children will be abused. If you set it too high, people that are in fact mature enough to have sex will have their lovers wrongfully punished just because of some idiotic legal fiction. No matter what age of consent you pick, it will always be wrong for most people, as every individual develops, well, individually.
In a reasonable country, whether a person is physically, mentally, and emotionally mature enough to have sex would be decided individually on a case by case basis. In fact, to avoid all those after the fact statutory rape trials, people should get examined before they have sex.
Like getting a driver's license. If examining people individually to make sure that they drive safely is worth the cost, then keeping innocent people from getting wrongfully imprisoned just because they fucked someone under an arbitrary age should be more than worth the cost of such a program?
Of course a license in shape of an ID would be awkward, particularly in a time when many people are still ashamed to talk about sex. "Hey, baby, can I see your ID? I wanna fuck you later tonight."
How about a tattoo instead of an ID? I bet teenagers would find that cool, and it saves the trouble of asking awkward questions. And if someone really hates sex, then they simply won't apply to get that tattoo, so they'll never be bothered by being hit on, as it's obvious that they either don't want to or aren't allowed to have sex.
Who said there aren't any meaningful rites of passage in our society? Here's one for you.
And what does that mean for Roman Polanski? Well, it's way too late to examine his alleged victim, but from the examinations that were made and from the testimony that was recorded we know that:
His alleged victim was sexually active before the incident.
She had been having her period before.
She was not physically injured by whatever he did/didn't do to/with her.
So on the count of statutory "rape," "pedophilia," or "child" abuse we'll have to give Polanski the benefit of the doubt, as his alleged victim was physically mature enough to have sex, and it is too late to examine her psyche now.
And as there is no evidence for rape except for the alleged victim's unsupported claims, the upshot of the whole thing is:
Roman Polanski is innocent.
Labels:
love,
Roman Polanski
Monday, October 19, 2009
What's in a Word, Feminazi?
Now, I understand that some morons might object to my (or anyone else's) use of the word feminazi. (And you probably don't appreciate being called morons, do you, morons?) So listen good, morons.
Different people use the same word differently. For example, that fundie fascist moron Rush Limbaugh uses the word feminazi to disparage those heroic women who fight for their right to have an abortion. Now, there are many moronic right wing nuts, but Limbaugh takes the cake.
At times he is a source of some primitive but fun humor, though. Like Club Gitmo. It's fun, because in a way he's right — the terrorists there weren't punished nearly severely enough. On the other hand, it's simplistic, because there were and are many innocent people imprisoned there.
And then he spouts all that fundie shit while he himself is addicted to painkillers. So you'd think he'd cut other "sinners" some slack. There's a simple diagnosis for his condition: It's called galactically stupid.
But doesn't Limbaugh keep spouting Ayn Rand quotes?
Well, that's best answered with a scene from A Fish Called Wanda:
Otto: Don't call me stupid.
Wanda: Oh, right! To call you stupid would be an insult to stupid people! I've known sheep that could outwit you. I've worn dresses with higher IQs. But you think you're an intellectual, don't you, ape?
Otto: Apes don't read philosophy.
Wanda: Yes, they do, Otto. They just don't understand it.
Everybody's favorite encyclopedic writers' collective notes:
Now, a feminazi is not the same animal as a feminist. A feminist is a person who knows that women have the same rights as men. A feminazi, on the other hand, is the very antithesis of a feminist. A feminazi is a person that hates men and sex, that believes that women should have all rights and men none at all.
Observe (to use one of Ayn Rand's favorite words) that I said person, not woman. There can be, at least in theory, male feminazis, as people are able to hate themselves.
But even if the nazi German nazis persecuted feminazis along with feminists, that doesn't make it illogical to call feminazis feminazis. Like all criminals, like the commies, the nazis had plenty of infighting. Just that someone was persecuted by the nazis is no guarantee that he or she was a not a nazi before or even was a nice person.
Likewise, the nazis rounded up and executed plenty of commies. That does not mean that those commies were less evil criminals with less vile plans than the nazis.
Commies and nazis are merely two competing gangs of thugs. In the Saint Valentine's Day Massacre, Al Capone had some competition executed. That doesn't make the competition nice folks.
Under communism, all property is "owned" by the state. Under fascism, property is nominally owned by the individual, but de facto controlled by the state. The alleged beneficiary of communism is a collective called "the working class" — or to make it sound a little more inclusive, "the people." The alleged beneficiary of fascism is a collective called "the race" — or to make it sound a little more inclusive, "the nation." The true beneficiary of communism is the politburo. The true beneficiary of fascism is the fuehrer and his cronies.
Nazis, commies, mobsters, and feminazis are all evil, because they all have one thing in common: They use force, or make their government use force on their behalf, against innocent people.
Now I suppose I could call feminazis femicommies, 'cause they're a little closer to commies than to nazis in their politics. But though I like coining new words, I don't feel like it in this case. Femicommie just doesn't sound as good.
Besides, as I said, the differences between commies and nazis are slight. If you look at the Nolan Chart, you'll find that the traditional political spectrum with the commies as the diametrical opposite of the fascists is a lot of bullshit. Imagine it more like a clock, if that helps, with libertarians at the top at twelve o'clock, liberals on the left at nine o'clock, conservatives on the right at three o'clock, and at the bottom commies at 6:01 and nazis right next to them at 5:59.
So feminists are not like nazis, but feminazis are. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, feminazis.
Different people use the same word differently. For example, that fundie fascist moron Rush Limbaugh uses the word feminazi to disparage those heroic women who fight for their right to have an abortion. Now, there are many moronic right wing nuts, but Limbaugh takes the cake.
At times he is a source of some primitive but fun humor, though. Like Club Gitmo. It's fun, because in a way he's right — the terrorists there weren't punished nearly severely enough. On the other hand, it's simplistic, because there were and are many innocent people imprisoned there.
And then he spouts all that fundie shit while he himself is addicted to painkillers. So you'd think he'd cut other "sinners" some slack. There's a simple diagnosis for his condition: It's called galactically stupid.
But doesn't Limbaugh keep spouting Ayn Rand quotes?
Well, that's best answered with a scene from A Fish Called Wanda:
Otto: Don't call me stupid.
Wanda: Oh, right! To call you stupid would be an insult to stupid people! I've known sheep that could outwit you. I've worn dresses with higher IQs. But you think you're an intellectual, don't you, ape?
Otto: Apes don't read philosophy.
Wanda: Yes, they do, Otto. They just don't understand it.
Everybody's favorite encyclopedic writers' collective notes:
In an interview, Gloria Steinem characterized Limbaugh's use of the term "feminazi" as ironic since feminists and other political dissenters were among the victims of Nazi concentration camps and Nazi work camps. According to Steinem, "Hitler came to power against the strong feminist movement in Germany, padlocked the family planning clinics, and declared abortion a crime against the state — all views that more closely resemble Rush Limbaugh's. In her book Outrageous Acts and Everyday Rebellions, Steinem elaborates on the repression of feminism under Hitler, noting that many prominent German feminists like Helene Stöcker, Trude Weiss-Rosmarin and Clara Zetkin were forced to flee Nazi Germany while others were killed in concentration camps.
Now, a feminazi is not the same animal as a feminist. A feminist is a person who knows that women have the same rights as men. A feminazi, on the other hand, is the very antithesis of a feminist. A feminazi is a person that hates men and sex, that believes that women should have all rights and men none at all.
Observe (to use one of Ayn Rand's favorite words) that I said person, not woman. There can be, at least in theory, male feminazis, as people are able to hate themselves.
But even if the nazi German nazis persecuted feminazis along with feminists, that doesn't make it illogical to call feminazis feminazis. Like all criminals, like the commies, the nazis had plenty of infighting. Just that someone was persecuted by the nazis is no guarantee that he or she was a not a nazi before or even was a nice person.
Likewise, the nazis rounded up and executed plenty of commies. That does not mean that those commies were less evil criminals with less vile plans than the nazis.
Commies and nazis are merely two competing gangs of thugs. In the Saint Valentine's Day Massacre, Al Capone had some competition executed. That doesn't make the competition nice folks.
Under communism, all property is "owned" by the state. Under fascism, property is nominally owned by the individual, but de facto controlled by the state. The alleged beneficiary of communism is a collective called "the working class" — or to make it sound a little more inclusive, "the people." The alleged beneficiary of fascism is a collective called "the race" — or to make it sound a little more inclusive, "the nation." The true beneficiary of communism is the politburo. The true beneficiary of fascism is the fuehrer and his cronies.
Nazis, commies, mobsters, and feminazis are all evil, because they all have one thing in common: They use force, or make their government use force on their behalf, against innocent people.
Now I suppose I could call feminazis femicommies, 'cause they're a little closer to commies than to nazis in their politics. But though I like coining new words, I don't feel like it in this case. Femicommie just doesn't sound as good.
Besides, as I said, the differences between commies and nazis are slight. If you look at the Nolan Chart, you'll find that the traditional political spectrum with the commies as the diametrical opposite of the fascists is a lot of bullshit. Imagine it more like a clock, if that helps, with libertarians at the top at twelve o'clock, liberals on the left at nine o'clock, conservatives on the right at three o'clock, and at the bottom commies at 6:01 and nazis right next to them at 5:59.
So feminists are not like nazis, but feminazis are. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, feminazis.
Labels:
Ayn Rand,
dictionary,
history,
Libertarianism,
love,
religious fanatics
The Feminazi Talks
I had hoped to stay aloof from the David Letterman vs. the monoamorous fundie zombies farce, but as I have to write on another fundie/feminazi victim, Roman Polanski, here goes.
"As 'the boss,' he [Letterman, or presumably any man] is responsible for setting the tone for his entire workplace — and he did that with sex. In any work environment, this places all employees — including employees who happen to be women — in an awkward, confusing and demoralizing situation."
— ugly feminazi
Among reasonable people, a work environment where you can have sex with your boss would be considered relaxed, enlightened, and fun. That of course presupposes that you don't regard sex as evil, don't regard work as a joyless "professional" drudgery, and don't regard your "boss" as a ruler and an enemy, but as an equal associate, a customer.
The funny thing is that the feminazi position is equally informed by wing nut and moon bat insanity. (So Reason and Liberty Central is practically killing two bats with one article here.)
The "sex as evil" theme of course originates with the right-wing fundies, though the commies sure have their own version of the anti-sex league. Both agree that work is a dutiful drudgery, either to sacrifice yourself to god or to the mob. The "boss as evil" theme is obviously the commies' stock in trade, though needless to say the conservative authoritarian fundie fascists likewise want your boss to be an authority figure to be obeyed, not a buddy to be fucked.
As that old batsicked her Doberperson on brought up Roman Polanski, a joke from Chinatown should be perfect to illustrate this point:
So basically, reasonable people in a reasonable work environment in a reasonable country would fuck some, work some, fuck some — who said work has to be unfun? Not that I expect fundies or feminazis to get that. After all, it's "fun die" and "nazi."
"Men behaving badly is exactly the problem in this country. It's not a diversion — it's at the core of why women are unequal, why they are kept in second-class citizenship."
— ugly feminazi
"All animals are equal but some animals are more equal than others."
— George Orwell, Animal Farm.
The only problem is women wanting to be more equal than men. That is, many women want it both ways.
On the one hand, they don't want to be the traditionalist authoritarian fundie fascists' slaves anymore. They don't want to any longer be chained to the triple evils of the KKK — kirk, kids, kitchen. They want a career, meaningful work, an individual purpose in life.
On the other hand, when it suits them, they want the vile traditional morals to go on. They want to get away with being a dinner whore. When they hear their biological clock ticking, they want to capture a man, to make him commit to be their sperm bank, their handyman, and their ATM. And of course they want to force monoamory on men, as some sort of a cheap, quick-fix ersatz self-esteem. "My face may be plain, my hooters may be small, my career may be stalled, but I made my man to fuck just me, of all the women, in all the cities, in all the world, so I must be special." Yuck.
Those women want all the freebies, but none of the duties that come with traditional morality.
Only when those women stop listening to the three evil ps — priests, parents, peers — only when those women stop permitting the three evil ps to turn them into priggish, unfun, joyless, jealous, clingy, mindless, manipulative, parasitic second-handers and fanatic breeders, only when those women start thinking for themselves, as many men do, only then will women be the intellectual, economic, and social equals of men.
I'm not sure about Michelle Obama, but the problem with Hillary Clinton, Sarah Palin, and Sonia Sotomayor is not that they're women, but that they're fascists. So the message is not, "Stay in your place!" but, "Don't try to run my life by force! Don't tread on me!"
It gets evenbetter worse:
It breaks my heart, too: If there won't be a fascist "government option," women may vote fewer new fascists into office. The horror!
Feminazis, with the wide availability of game, your stock in trade is in a tailspin. (No, Virginia, you don't have to be in a relationship to have sex.)
With the perfection of the fembot, it will be worthless. So I suggest you start practicing being as low-maintenance as a fembot and developing a unique selling proposition that fembots can't offer, like a lovable personality, or in the future your long walks on the beach will be vibrant.
Sluts of the world (male and female), arise! Smash those fundies! Cast those feminazis down the sewers!
"As 'the boss,' he [Letterman, or presumably any man] is responsible for setting the tone for his entire workplace — and he did that with sex. In any work environment, this places all employees — including employees who happen to be women — in an awkward, confusing and demoralizing situation."
— ugly feminazi
Among reasonable people, a work environment where you can have sex with your boss would be considered relaxed, enlightened, and fun. That of course presupposes that you don't regard sex as evil, don't regard work as a joyless "professional" drudgery, and don't regard your "boss" as a ruler and an enemy, but as an equal associate, a customer.
The funny thing is that the feminazi position is equally informed by wing nut and moon bat insanity. (So Reason and Liberty Central is practically killing two bats with one article here.)
The "sex as evil" theme of course originates with the right-wing fundies, though the commies sure have their own version of the anti-sex league. Both agree that work is a dutiful drudgery, either to sacrifice yourself to god or to the mob. The "boss as evil" theme is obviously the commies' stock in trade, though needless to say the conservative authoritarian fundie fascists likewise want your boss to be an authority figure to be obeyed, not a buddy to be fucked.
As that old bat
So there's this fella who's tired of screwing his wife.
His friend says, "Why not do what the Chinese do?"
So he says, "What do they do?"
His friend says the Chinese they screw for a while. And then they stop and they read a little Confucius and they screw some more and they stop and they smoke some opium and then they go back and screw some more and they stop again and they contemplate the moon or something and it makes it more exciting. So this other guy goes home to screw his wife and after a while he stops and gets up and goes into the other room only he reads Life magazine and he goes back and he screws some more and suddenly says, "Excuse me a second," and he gets up and smokes a cigarette and he goes back and by this time his wife is getting sore as hell.
So he screws some more and then he gets up to look at the moon and his wife says, "What the hell do you think you're doing? You're screwing like a Chinaman."
So basically, reasonable people in a reasonable work environment in a reasonable country would fuck some, work some, fuck some — who said work has to be unfun? Not that I expect fundies or feminazis to get that. After all, it's "fun die" and "nazi."
"Men behaving badly is exactly the problem in this country. It's not a diversion — it's at the core of why women are unequal, why they are kept in second-class citizenship."
— ugly feminazi
"All animals are equal but some animals are more equal than others."
— George Orwell, Animal Farm.
The only problem is women wanting to be more equal than men. That is, many women want it both ways.
On the one hand, they don't want to be the traditionalist authoritarian fundie fascists' slaves anymore. They don't want to any longer be chained to the triple evils of the KKK — kirk, kids, kitchen. They want a career, meaningful work, an individual purpose in life.
On the other hand, when it suits them, they want the vile traditional morals to go on. They want to get away with being a dinner whore. When they hear their biological clock ticking, they want to capture a man, to make him commit to be their sperm bank, their handyman, and their ATM. And of course they want to force monoamory on men, as some sort of a cheap, quick-fix ersatz self-esteem. "My face may be plain, my hooters may be small, my career may be stalled, but I made my man to fuck just me, of all the women, in all the cities, in all the world, so I must be special." Yuck.
Those women want all the freebies, but none of the duties that come with traditional morality.
Only when those women stop listening to the three evil ps — priests, parents, peers — only when those women stop permitting the three evil ps to turn them into priggish, unfun, joyless, jealous, clingy, mindless, manipulative, parasitic second-handers and fanatic breeders, only when those women start thinking for themselves, as many men do, only then will women be the intellectual, economic, and social equals of men.
[Ugly feminazi] O'Neill linked the Polanski and Letterman controversies to a broader trend that has troubled her in recent years — nasty, gender-based attacks on women in public life, such as Hillary Rodham Clinton, Sarah Palin, Michelle Obama and new Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor.
"We're living in a time when women who put themselves forward as leaders are subjected to vicious misogynistic attacks — it's very analogous to sexual harassment in the workplace," she said in the interview. "The message to other women is, 'Stay in your place.' "
I'm not sure about Michelle Obama, but the problem with Hillary Clinton, Sarah Palin, and Sonia Sotomayor is not that they're women, but that they're fascists. So the message is not, "Stay in your place!" but, "Don't try to run my life by force! Don't tread on me!"
It gets even
On the ["]job[" You call that delusional activism a job?] for four months, [ugly feminazi] O'Neill has found the work intense — particularly trying to keep up-to-date on how the evolving health care proposals might affect women.
She worries that the eventual plan might lack a public option allowing the government to sell health insurance in competition with private companies, and that such a result would dismay many women.
"It breaks my heart," she said, expressing fears that many progressive women would be so disheartened that they wouldn't vote in 2010 and thus create an opening for "dreadful, anti-women candidates to win."
It breaks my heart, too: If there won't be a fascist "government option," women may vote fewer new fascists into office. The horror!
Feminazis, with the wide availability of game, your stock in trade is in a tailspin. (No, Virginia, you don't have to be in a relationship to have sex.)
With the perfection of the fembot, it will be worthless. So I suggest you start practicing being as low-maintenance as a fembot and developing a unique selling proposition that fembots can't offer, like a lovable personality, or in the future your long walks on the beach will be vibrant.
Sluts of the world (male and female), arise! Smash those fundies! Cast those feminazis down the sewers!
Labels:
capitalism,
love,
religious fanatics,
Roman Polanski,
Sarah Palin,
values
These Colors Don't Run
But the frosting might?
One hopes that these colors stand not for the Confederate States of Dumbfuckistan or the United States of Soviet Canuckistan, but for liberty and justice for all.
So what's the world coming to? :P
Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy
One hopes that these colors stand not for the Confederate States of Dumbfuckistan or the United States of Soviet Canuckistan, but for liberty and justice for all.
So what's the world coming to? :P
Labels:
values
Some Old Man River Perspective
To put things into perspective, even in the Confederate States of Dumbfuckistan it is possible to fight for one's rights as a lesbian without being burned at the stake (yet). That's more than in Iran.
BTW, did you notice that that place in Mississippi is called Wesson? I think… I'm gonna move to Colt.
Anyway, they shouldn't pick on that poor girl so much, or she may turn from a trumpet player into a trumpet shifter. :P
BTW, did you notice that that place in Mississippi is called Wesson? I think… I'm gonna move to Colt.
Anyway, they shouldn't pick on that poor girl so much, or she may turn from a trumpet player into a trumpet shifter. :P
Labels:
love,
religious fanatics
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Free Roman!
Apprehended like a common terrorist Saturday evening, September 26, as he came to receive a prize for his entire body of work, Roman Polanski now sleeps in prison.
He risks extradition to the United States for an episode that happened years ago and whose principal plaintiff repeatedly and emphatically declares she has put it behind her and abandoned any wish for legal proceedings.
Seventy-six years old, a survivor of Nazism and of Stalinist persecutions in Poland, Roman Polanski risks spending the rest of his life in jail for deeds which would be beyond the statute-of-limitations in Europe.
We ask the Swiss courts to free him immediately and not to turn this ingenious filmmaker into a martyr of a politico-legal imbroglio that is unworthy of two democracies like Switzerland and the United States. Good sense, as well as honor, require it.
The Roman Polanski farce has been going on long enough now. No matter what he did do or did not do (Reason and Liberty Central will publish an article on that), he ought to be freed immediately.
For in the
In the Confederate States of Dumbfuckistan (or for that matter, in any fundamentalist country) a fundie can bible thump eleven good men (and women even more easily), who don't dare arguing with Christianity, into ruling that the defendant is guilty merely for having had consensual extramarital sex. In the United States of Soviet Canuckistan (or for that matter, in any liberal democracy) a feminazi can pussy whip eleven good men (and women even more easily), who don't dare arguing with feminazism, into ruling that the defendant is guilty merely for having had consensual extrarelationshipal sex. Fundies and feminazis have as little business trying sex-related cases as racists have any business trying black people.
Just like there ought to be a moratorium on the death penalty until a system is in place to make sure that no innocent individuals are executed, there ought to be a moratorium on rape trials until fundies and feminazis that would pussy whip eleven good men into convicting an innocent man of rape for the mere "crime" of having consensual sex with a would-be slut that got cold feet in the morning are barred from serving on juries.
The corollary of a moratorium on rape trials is of course that for the time being, women will have to pack heat to fend off real rapists. Well, whenever reason is eliminated from human intercourse, force must rule.
Thanks for nothing, fundies. Thanks for nothing, feminazis.
Polanski "is a convicted criminal pedophile" and making excuses for him is "dangerous talk," [ugly feminazi] O'Neill declared earlier this month after some luminaries in Hollywood and Europe questioned a move by Swiss authorities to detain the film director for possible extradition to the U.S.
So put this dangerous talk in your pipe and smoke it, feminazi.
Free Roman!
Labels:
love,
religious fanatics,
Roman Polanski,
values
"Capitalism," Dubai Style
If you thought Southern slavocrats and Russian kleptocrats had been giving capitalism a bad name, get a load of this: "The Dark Side of Dubai".
I used to say, "Wait till the bottom falls out of Dubai," but I didn't expect it to fall that soon or that spectacularly.
In 2001, we were, for the first time in human history, treated to the spectacle of skyscrapers collapsing. Now we may observe how a city disintegrates in a real-life version of I Am Legend.
Once Dubai runs out of cash, it runs out of oil to fire its desalination plants, and then, without water, human life will be impossible there. That's what happens if you build on sand, credit, and slavery, instead of on true capitalism, reason, and liberty.
Of course that's not the conclusion the commie author draws: "Dubai is Market Fundamentalist Globalization in One City."
Well, stealing passports and investing other people's money in unsustainable projects is not "market fundamentalism" or capitalism, it's force and fraud, the very antithesis of capitalism (voluntary cooperation to mutual advantage).
Capitalism cannot work if a country is ruled either by delusional monarchs or by equally delusional mobs. (Think of the mob rule in the US, the Fed the mob government appointed, and the bubble it created.) Capitalism can only work if the world is ruled by enlightened plutocrats, by entrepreneurs who act in the best long-term interest of their corporations, who rise to power not by birth or by populism, but by merit and productivity.
I used to say, "Wait till the bottom falls out of Dubai," but I didn't expect it to fall that soon or that spectacularly.
In 2001, we were, for the first time in human history, treated to the spectacle of skyscrapers collapsing. Now we may observe how a city disintegrates in a real-life version of I Am Legend.
Once Dubai runs out of cash, it runs out of oil to fire its desalination plants, and then, without water, human life will be impossible there. That's what happens if you build on sand, credit, and slavery, instead of on true capitalism, reason, and liberty.
Of course that's not the conclusion the commie author draws: "Dubai is Market Fundamentalist Globalization in One City."
Well, stealing passports and investing other people's money in unsustainable projects is not "market fundamentalism" or capitalism, it's force and fraud, the very antithesis of capitalism (voluntary cooperation to mutual advantage).
Capitalism cannot work if a country is ruled either by delusional monarchs or by equally delusional mobs. (Think of the mob rule in the US, the Fed the mob government appointed, and the bubble it created.) Capitalism can only work if the world is ruled by enlightened plutocrats, by entrepreneurs who act in the best long-term interest of their corporations, who rise to power not by birth or by populism, but by merit and productivity.
Monday, October 05, 2009
Fucker from Winnemucca
Nick Parker responds:
We don't smoke opium in Winnemucca
We slipped shrub a trip on LSD.
That's how we deal with each fundie sucker
'Cause we like livin' right 'n' bein' free.
I sure make a party out of lovin'!
Holdin' hands? You ain't seen nothing yet.
It lasts till my hair's grown long and shaggy,
Like the hippies out in San Francisco get.
I'm proud to be a fucker from Winnemucca,
A place where balls can even have a square
We still wave Old Glory but burned the courthouse,
Yeah, tequila sure's the biggest thrill affair.
Leather boots are still in style for manly footwear;
Though beads 'n' Roman sandals can be seen.
Football was the roughest thing on campus,
Till me and the kids here killed the college dean.
I'm proud to be a fucker from Winnemucca,
A place where balls can even have a square.
We still wave Old Glory but burned the courthouse,
Yeah, tequila sure's the biggest thrill affair.
Yeah, tequila sure's the biggest thrill affair,
In Winnemucca, Nevada, USA.
We don't smoke opium in Winnemucca
We slipped shrub a trip on LSD.
That's how we deal with each fundie sucker
'Cause we like livin' right 'n' bein' free.
I sure make a party out of lovin'!
Holdin' hands? You ain't seen nothing yet.
It lasts till my hair's grown long and shaggy,
Like the hippies out in San Francisco get.
I'm proud to be a fucker from Winnemucca,
A place where balls can even have a square
We still wave Old Glory but burned the courthouse,
Yeah, tequila sure's the biggest thrill affair.
Leather boots are still in style for manly footwear;
Though beads 'n' Roman sandals can be seen.
Football was the roughest thing on campus,
Till me and the kids here killed the college dean.
I'm proud to be a fucker from Winnemucca,
A place where balls can even have a square.
We still wave Old Glory but burned the courthouse,
Yeah, tequila sure's the biggest thrill affair.
Yeah, tequila sure's the biggest thrill affair,
In Winnemucca, Nevada, USA.
Labels:
Kevin Traynor,
love,
music,
W,
writing
Hooker from Toluca
Today (or rather, tonight) Reason and Liberty Central salutes a minority marginalized, nay, criminalized by the fascist fundie scum: the oldest, best, and most important profession in the world.
BTW, as sex is a spiritual experience, it is protected from government interference by the First and Fourteenth Amendments. So all laws against prostitution are null and void.
No spurious right to privacy necessary. Not that I expect the man to get that, as being a moron is a requirement for becoming a constitutional scholar or a judge.
Anyway, here goes (with apologies to Merle Haggard, Chinga Chavin, and Kinky Friedman):
We don't smoke marijuana in Toluca
We just take our drugs against VD
We got from that wannabe Chewbacca.
We like lovin' right, which ain't free.
We sure do turn finance into romance:
No money, no funny bunny honey.
We can't let our hair grow long and shaggy:
Gettin' your hair done sure costs fuckin' money.
And I'm proud to be a hooker from Toluca,
A place where even squares can use a ball.
We still flip off the pigs down at the courthouse,
And Hugh Grant, he's still the bestest john of all.
Fuck-me boots are still in style for girly footwear;
Beads and Roman sandals won't be seen.
BJs ain't the roughest thing on campus,
And Toluca still hasn't got a college dean.
I'm proud to be a hooker from Toluca,
A place where even squares can use a ball.
We still flip off the pigs down at the courthouse,
And Hugh Grant, he's still the bestest john of all.
And Hugh Grant, he's still the bestest john of all,
In Toluca, California, USA.
BTW, as sex is a spiritual experience, it is protected from government interference by the First and Fourteenth Amendments. So all laws against prostitution are null and void.
No spurious right to privacy necessary. Not that I expect the man to get that, as being a moron is a requirement for becoming a constitutional scholar or a judge.
Anyway, here goes (with apologies to Merle Haggard, Chinga Chavin, and Kinky Friedman):
We don't smoke marijuana in Toluca
We just take our drugs against VD
We got from that wannabe Chewbacca.
We like lovin' right, which ain't free.
We sure do turn finance into romance:
No money, no funny bunny honey.
We can't let our hair grow long and shaggy:
Gettin' your hair done sure costs fuckin' money.
And I'm proud to be a hooker from Toluca,
A place where even squares can use a ball.
We still flip off the pigs down at the courthouse,
And Hugh Grant, he's still the bestest john of all.
Fuck-me boots are still in style for girly footwear;
Beads and Roman sandals won't be seen.
BJs ain't the roughest thing on campus,
And Toluca still hasn't got a college dean.
I'm proud to be a hooker from Toluca,
A place where even squares can use a ball.
We still flip off the pigs down at the courthouse,
And Hugh Grant, he's still the bestest john of all.
And Hugh Grant, he's still the bestest john of all,
In Toluca, California, USA.
Labels:
capitalism,
love,
music,
religious fanatics,
writing
Monday, September 28, 2009
Interview with the Vampire, Frank Walter Steinmeier
Speaking of foreign ministers, the loser of the German election for village idiot, outgoing (in the bad sense) foreign minister Frank Walter Steinmeier, graciously granted Reason and Liberty Central an audience in the palace of the dictatorship of the people in Berlin, capital of fascism.
RLC: Given that emasculating election result, do you feel discriminated against? Do you think that the people voted you out on account of your name, Herr Swinemeier? Did you ever consider changing your name?
Steinmeier: Excuse me. My name isn't Swinemeier. It's Steinmeier.
RLC: Oh, you already changed it?
Steinmeier: No. I didn't change anything. I've never been called Swinemeier.
RLC: Really? Did you ever consider changing your name into Swinemeier? It might be good luck. The people might even elect you village idiot in four years.
Steinmeier: &?%$!*$$!!
RLC: That was really uncalled for, Herr Swinemeier. There's no need for such language. Though of course one can forgive a lot to a man whose own parents named him Wank Wanker.
Steinmeier: Gaaa!
The doctors' consensus is that Mr. Swinemeier may be released from his padded cell in time to run in the next election for village idiot, though he may have to keep wearing his straitjacket.
Reason and Liberty Central intends to interview more politicians.
RLC: Given that emasculating election result, do you feel discriminated against? Do you think that the people voted you out on account of your name, Herr Swinemeier? Did you ever consider changing your name?
Steinmeier: Excuse me. My name isn't Swinemeier. It's Steinmeier.
RLC: Oh, you already changed it?
Steinmeier: No. I didn't change anything. I've never been called Swinemeier.
RLC: Really? Did you ever consider changing your name into Swinemeier? It might be good luck. The people might even elect you village idiot in four years.
Steinmeier: &?%$!*$$!!
RLC: That was really uncalled for, Herr Swinemeier. There's no need for such language. Though of course one can forgive a lot to a man whose own parents named him Wank Wanker.
Steinmeier: Gaaa!
The doctors' consensus is that Mr. Swinemeier may be released from his padded cell in time to run in the next election for village idiot, though he may have to keep wearing his straitjacket.
Reason and Liberty Central intends to interview more politicians.
Fundies, Meet the Big Gay Foreign Minister!
Traditionally, the head of the smaller party in a German coalition government gets appointed foreign minister. That happens to be Guido Westerwelle, who happens to be gay.
If he has to travel to Iran, that's gonna be big fun. Either the Iranian fundies tolerate a homosexual debauching their holy land instead of murdering him like all their own gayety, or they do murder him. Then it'll be interesting to see if those kraut cowards go to war with Iran over a dead gay politician.
What would be the politically correct thing? What will win out, pacifism or gay rights? (One hopes, gay rights.)
If he has to travel to Iran, that's gonna be big fun. Either the Iranian fundies tolerate a homosexual debauching their holy land instead of murdering him like all their own gayety, or they do murder him. Then it'll be interesting to see if those kraut cowards go to war with Iran over a dead gay politician.
What would be the politically correct thing? What will win out, pacifism or gay rights? (One hopes, gay rights.)
Labels:
fun facts,
Libertarianism,
love,
religious fanatics
Krauts Getting Collective Head from Ass?
Wonders never cease. Yesterday, the krauts elected their new village idiot, and the libertarianish Free Democratic Party (try this for an oxymoron) walked away with 14.6 percent of the popular vote, the best result ever. True, they will have to govern together with the most popular party, the looters, fascists, and mystics of the Christian Democrats, who suckered 33.8 percent.
The left looters, however, split into the once powerful Socialist Democrat Party and the openly communist and loony Left party, remain in disarray. The Socialist Democrats have to deal with their worst performance in history, 23 percent. Thus, this mainstream populist looters' party is left just a few percentage points ahead of a "fringe, capitalists', rich people's" libertarianish party.
One wonders whether those stupid krauts finally managed to pull their collectivist, collective head out of their fucking ass and are beginning to understand that their national character, collectivism and socialism, is evil, or whether they were simply fed up with the concrete politics of the outgoing coalition government of looters left and right.
The left looters, however, split into the once powerful Socialist Democrat Party and the openly communist and loony Left party, remain in disarray. The Socialist Democrats have to deal with their worst performance in history, 23 percent. Thus, this mainstream populist looters' party is left just a few percentage points ahead of a "fringe, capitalists', rich people's" libertarianish party.
One wonders whether those stupid krauts finally managed to pull their collectivist, collective head out of their fucking ass and are beginning to understand that their national character, collectivism and socialism, is evil, or whether they were simply fed up with the concrete politics of the outgoing coalition government of looters left and right.
Labels:
capitalism,
Libertarianism
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Some Words from Our Faithless Sponsors
And now even Reason and Liberty Central has to make a commercial break…
I particularly like #3… And did you notice that the happy chick in #7 is a blonde?
I particularly like #3… And did you notice that the happy chick in #7 is a blonde?
America without Atheists Is like…
Imagine that fundie scum could have its way…
America without atheists is like a Christian Iran. Iran got everything America got — natural resources, fundies, plenty of morons — but one thing: religious liberty, i.e. freedom from religion.
Go ahead, fundie scum, and make my day. If you succeed, Jesusland will be a filthy third-world backwater without even the technological capabilities to build its own nukes or jetfighters. Realistan will kick your ass.
America without atheists is like a Christian Iran. Iran got everything America got — natural resources, fundies, plenty of morons — but one thing: religious liberty, i.e. freedom from religion.
Go ahead, fundie scum, and make my day. If you succeed, Jesusland will be a filthy third-world backwater without even the technological capabilities to build its own nukes or jetfighters. Realistan will kick your ass.
Monday, September 21, 2009
The Equalizer Shoots Back
To celebrate John Stossel's move from ABC to Fox and his own show, my favorite Stossel segment.
Who knows, that might be just the way for Fox to find some friends, after all. :P
Who knows, that might be just the way for Fox to find some friends, after all. :P
Labels:
gun rights,
Libertarianism
Monday, September 14, 2009
Obama Care Kills
Ever wondered what socialized medicine would look like? If the disasters in Limeystan and Canuckistan aren't enough, there was one country that totally socialized medicine: the Soviet Union. Here's what it looked like:
Peed skills. Skeed pills. Speed kills. And so does Obama Care.
Please, Obama, stop caring. It hurts less.
Peed skills. Skeed pills. Speed kills. And so does Obama Care.
Please, Obama, stop caring. It hurts less.
Labels:
Ayn Rand,
capitalism,
horror,
movies,
Obamastan
Monday, September 07, 2009
Colonel Sanders Won't Be Amused
Alex is pleased to announce that he came up with the new advertising slogan for one of America's proudest products: "W Ketchup — It's pretzel chokin' good!"
Labels:
capitalism,
fun facts,
W,
writing
Monday, August 31, 2009
Quote of the Day
"If it falls your lot to be a street sweeper, sweep streets like Michelangelo painted pictures, sweep streets like Beethoven composed music, sweep streets like Leontyne Price sings before the Metropolitan Opera. Sweep streets like Shakespeare wrote poetry. Sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will have to pause and say: 'Here lived a great street sweeper who swept his job well.' "
— Martin Luther King
— Martin Luther King
Labels:
capitalism,
quotes,
values
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Alex Helps Addicts
As someone who's dealing with severe addiction (You remember my blondphilia, right? No, I'm keeping it.) I feel for those poor gambling addicts who are defenseless even against one-armed bandits.
Now I'm introducing a novel, 100% effective cure for gambling addiction. It involves setting up the addict with a limitless supply of empties in front of a reverse vending machine, where every gamble is a win.
Now I'm introducing a novel, 100% effective cure for gambling addiction. It involves setting up the addict with a limitless supply of empties in front of a reverse vending machine, where every gamble is a win.
Labels:
capitalism,
love,
values
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
What's Good for the Gunmen Is Good for the Thugs
For some people, civilization means being defenseless to the point where you love to kiss the jackboot in your face.
So being a disarmed victim of jackbooted thugs is a hallmark of development? I guess I don't have to tell you where you can shove that brand of "civilization."
The Old West was the only truly civilized society that ever existed. But I guess it's not hard to understand why the jackbooted thugs want to be the only ones who are "intimidating."
So what are you packing, you jackbooted moron? Yep, thought so.
Maybe so. So what?
The President has the power to kill innocent people with cruise missiles and nukes. So why should he not live in fear, too?
Fair is fair. He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword. If you don't want to be a bull's-eye, don't run for President.
Yeah, somewhere some donuts would have needed to get eaten. Or somefool citizen would have needed to get ass-raped.
Maybe. But again, fair is fair. Then the pigs and jackbooted thugs need to leave their guns in their sty, too.
Like in Limeystan. Most cops there are unarmed.
And guess what? Those bobbies are friendly.
As they should have. For that would be open tyranny. If what little gun rights still exist are trampled into the dust so that Obama can feel a little safer, it is definitely time to fertilize the tree of liberty.
"Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both." The particularly bitter irony here is that this isn't even the usual case of depriving the minority of their liberties so that the majority can feel a little safer. This is plain and simple depriving all the people but one of their rights so that exactly one person, who gets a private 747 and much undeserved respect free of charge, can feel a little safer on top of that.
If Prince Obama can't enjoy his sinecure on account of the pea of gun rights, he should resign. I guess America will do just fine without anyone around to socialize medicine.
The fact that protesters at President Obama's political events have begun showing up bearing arms may be disquieting, but it's perfectly legal — and the Secret Service, charged with protecting the President, insists that it is not unduly alarmed by the development. That's because while the Second Amendment guarantees Americans the right to carry guns, federal law also gives the Secret Service the right to keep gun-toting folks away from the President.
…
But former Secret Service agent Joseph Petro thinks his former employer may be trying to put the best face on a bad situation. "The Secret Service is very concerned about this," says Petro, who spent 23 years as an agent, including four guarding President Reagan and his family. "It's hard enough to protect the President, and this is not helpful." He pauses. "We are not a Third World country."
So being a disarmed victim of jackbooted thugs is a hallmark of development? I guess I don't have to tell you where you can shove that brand of "civilization."
While protesters in certain states may have the right to carry weapons to spots near presidential visits — and the Secret Service may blanket the President with protection — Petro says the guns' presence changes the atmosphere surrounding such events. "They're intimidating people like it's a western saloon," he says.
The Old West was the only truly civilized society that ever existed. But I guess it's not hard to understand why the jackbooted thugs want to be the only ones who are "intimidating."
And the weapons could turn a verbal clash between demonstrators into a shoot-out. "In a heated atmosphere," Petro argues, "it's a recipe for disaster."
So what are you packing, you jackbooted moron? Yep, thought so.
Most critical, according to Petro… is the message the guns send. "These guys aren't going to shoot the President," he says of the protesters. "But it's putting the idea in some nut's head that maybe he can get a gun and try to shoot him."
Maybe so. So what?
The President has the power to kill innocent people with cruise missiles and nukes. So why should he not live in fear, too?
Fair is fair. He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword. If you don't want to be a bull's-eye, don't run for President.
A second man outside that event displayed a gun holstered to his leg. "I wanted people to remember the rights that we have and how quickly we're losing them in this country," William Kostric later told MSNBC. "It doesn't take a genius to see we're traveling down a road at breakneck speed that's towards tyranny." Kostric, who used to live in Arizona, said he voted for Ron Paul in the last presidential election. He carried a sign saying, "It Is Time to Water the Tree of Liberty," a reference to Thomas Jefferson's quote that "the tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants." …
Both Arizona and New Hampshire are "open-carry" states in which it is legal to carry visible weapons in public. But every gun-bearing protester requires the attention of the Secret Service and the local and state police who reinforce their efforts. "If the local police are drawn away to deal with these fools, then there's a vacuum somewhere," Petro says. "Perhaps one of those cops was supposed to be in a critical place where he or she could have stopped someone from doing something to the President. That's a real problem."
Yeah, somewhere some donuts would have needed to get eaten. Or some
But Paul Helmke, who heads the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence, says such an act "endangers all in attendance" and that even if their actions are legal, "common sense" should dictate that gun owners keep their weapons away from such gatherings. "Loaded weapons at political forums endanger all involved, distract law enforcement and end up stifling debate," he says. "Presidential protesters need to leave their firearms at home — no exceptions."
Maybe. But again, fair is fair. Then the pigs and jackbooted thugs need to leave their guns in their sty, too.
Like in Limeystan. Most cops there are unarmed.
And guess what? Those bobbies are friendly.
Extending the perimeter, he suggests, makes more sense than handcuffing those with guns. "If the Secret Service started arresting these people," he says, "they'd have battles on their hands."
As they should have. For that would be open tyranny. If what little gun rights still exist are trampled into the dust so that Obama can feel a little safer, it is definitely time to fertilize the tree of liberty.
"Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both." The particularly bitter irony here is that this isn't even the usual case of depriving the minority of their liberties so that the majority can feel a little safer. This is plain and simple depriving all the people but one of their rights so that exactly one person, who gets a private 747 and much undeserved respect free of charge, can feel a little safer on top of that.
If Prince Obama can't enjoy his sinecure on account of the pea of gun rights, he should resign. I guess America will do just fine without anyone around to socialize medicine.
Labels:
capitalism,
gun rights,
Obamastan
Monday, August 17, 2009
Ugly in, Ugly out
In the past, there's been some criticism about the black and white characters in Atlas Shrugged. The heroes are beautiful and the villains are ugly.
Well, move over, wing nut and moon bat critics. Here comes life imitating art.
Look at Injustice Sonia Sotomayor. I won't even mention her elephantine proboscis (which isn't her fault, unless you want to call failing to get a nose job a fault).
But what did she do to her face? Around the clock tanning? Chain smoking? Or maybe it's just gravity.
Suffice it to say that, putting it charitably, she's way uglier than Miss Pigskin, Pamela Anderson. And, taking a page right out of Atlas Shrugged, she has some pretty ugly things to say:
Even Sarah Palin wouldn't say, nay, even think of something that stupid and evil. If Palin is Hitler in lipstick, then Sotomayor is Hitler in all his/her/its unvarnished ugliness.
And Sotomayor didn't graduate from some backwoods college, but summa cum laude from Princeton. So much for the quality of moon bat schools.
If there's no Constitutional right to self-defense, the Constitution is just a piece of worthless toilet paper. The right to self-defense is the only fundamental right there is. Without it, any other rights are meaningless. If you don't defend yourself, no one will.
From the streets of Washington, DC — where the pigs have been empowered by the courts to do nothing if you get raped and murdered because they'd rather have another donut — to the concentration camps of Germany — where the pigs will even actively assist in raping and murdering you — one thing is certain: You only have the rights you personally fight for. Or, as Henry David Thoreau had it: "Government never furthered any enterprise but by the alacrity with which it got out of its way."
If you have to leave defending yourself to the government, you're at the mercy of any punk on the street and of any Hitler in government. The only question is, is this one ugly villain motivated by love of punks or by love of Hitlers?
Well, move over, wing nut and moon bat critics. Here comes life imitating art.
Look at Injustice Sonia Sotomayor. I won't even mention her elephantine proboscis (which isn't her fault, unless you want to call failing to get a nose job a fault).
But what did she do to her face? Around the clock tanning? Chain smoking? Or maybe it's just gravity.
Suffice it to say that, putting it charitably, she's way uglier than Miss Pigskin, Pamela Anderson. And, taking a page right out of Atlas Shrugged, she has some pretty ugly things to say:
…Sen. Tom Coburn, R-Okla., asked Sotomayor about a 2004 opinion, which she signed, that found that "the right to possess a gun is clearly not a fundamental right."
Coburn wondered how courts cannot see the explicitly stated Second Amendment "right to keep and bear arms" as fundamental, yet can hold as fundamental the unexpressed right to privacy. Sotomayor answered: "Is there a constitutional right to self-defense? And I can't think of one. I could be wrong, but I can't think of one."
Even Sarah Palin wouldn't say, nay, even think of something that stupid and evil. If Palin is Hitler in lipstick, then Sotomayor is Hitler in all his/her/its unvarnished ugliness.
And Sotomayor didn't graduate from some backwoods college, but summa cum laude from Princeton. So much for the quality of moon bat schools.
If there's no Constitutional right to self-defense, the Constitution is just a piece of worthless toilet paper. The right to self-defense is the only fundamental right there is. Without it, any other rights are meaningless. If you don't defend yourself, no one will.
From the streets of Washington, DC — where the pigs have been empowered by the courts to do nothing if you get raped and murdered because they'd rather have another donut — to the concentration camps of Germany — where the pigs will even actively assist in raping and murdering you — one thing is certain: You only have the rights you personally fight for. Or, as Henry David Thoreau had it: "Government never furthered any enterprise but by the alacrity with which it got out of its way."
If you have to leave defending yourself to the government, you're at the mercy of any punk on the street and of any Hitler in government. The only question is, is this one ugly villain motivated by love of punks or by love of Hitlers?
Labels:
Ayn Rand,
capitalism,
gun rights,
horror,
Sarah Palin
Thursday, August 06, 2009
Downtown Dawn?
Those years of impasses that are the World Trade Center rebuilding saga left developer Larry Silverstein, as Johnny Cash would put it, with no tenants, no loans, no chance. Yet the whole project boils down to government and private incompetence of epic proportions.
Here's the epic. (With apologies to Tanya Tucker.)
Chris O. Ward, what's that tower you work on
Could it be the faded plans from days gone by?
And did I hear you say they was a-meeting you here today
To take off your hands some floors in the sky?
It's been eight years and folks here 'round still call them ugly
All the folks around New York say you're crazy
'Cause you walk around town with tax rebates in your hand
Looking for that mysterious tenant man
In the olden days they called it Libescheme then
Ugliest buildings you ever laid eyes on
Then some men of low degree hijacked the site
And promised us they'd sure rebuild it right
Chris O. Ward, what's that tower you work on
Could it be the faded plans from days gone by?
And did I hear you say they was a-meeting you here today
To take off your hands some floors in the sky?
Chris O. Ward, what's that tower you work on
Could it be the faded plans from days gone by?
And did I hear you say they was a-meeting you here today
To take off your hands some floors in the sky?
Chris O. Ward, what's that tower you work on
Could it be the faded plans from days gone by?
And did I hear you say they was a-meeting you here today
To take off your hands some floors in the sky?
Chris O. Ward, what's that tower you work on
Could it be the faded plans from days gone by?
And did I hear you say they was a-meeting you here today
To take off your hands some floors in the sky?
(FADE)
Chris O. Ward, what's that tower you work on
Could it be the faded plans from days gone by?
And did I hear you say they was a-meeting you here today
To take off your hands some floors in the sky?
Here's the epic. (With apologies to Tanya Tucker.)
Chris O. Ward, what's that tower you work on
Could it be the faded plans from days gone by?
And did I hear you say they was a-meeting you here today
To take off your hands some floors in the sky?
It's been eight years and folks here 'round still call them ugly
All the folks around New York say you're crazy
'Cause you walk around town with tax rebates in your hand
Looking for that mysterious tenant man
In the olden days they called it Libescheme then
Ugliest buildings you ever laid eyes on
Then some men of low degree hijacked the site
And promised us they'd sure rebuild it right
Chris O. Ward, what's that tower you work on
Could it be the faded plans from days gone by?
And did I hear you say they was a-meeting you here today
To take off your hands some floors in the sky?
Chris O. Ward, what's that tower you work on
Could it be the faded plans from days gone by?
And did I hear you say they was a-meeting you here today
To take off your hands some floors in the sky?
Chris O. Ward, what's that tower you work on
Could it be the faded plans from days gone by?
And did I hear you say they was a-meeting you here today
To take off your hands some floors in the sky?
Chris O. Ward, what's that tower you work on
Could it be the faded plans from days gone by?
And did I hear you say they was a-meeting you here today
To take off your hands some floors in the sky?
(FADE)
Chris O. Ward, what's that tower you work on
Could it be the faded plans from days gone by?
And did I hear you say they was a-meeting you here today
To take off your hands some floors in the sky?
Labels:
architecture,
capitalism,
music,
skyscrapers,
World Trade Center,
writing
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
The Face That Burned a Thousand Homes
Well, maybe not a thousand, more like a couple dozen, but it got some people murdered, too. So I guess it somehow adds up.
That face belonged to one Fannie Taylor, who was afraid to admit to her husband that she had a lover. So when that lover beat her up, she blamed a fictitious black trespasser. The upshot: The predominantly black hamlet of Rosewood was burned to the ground by a white mob, which murdered several black people in the process.
Today everybody's favorite joke of an encyclopedia features an article on the Rosewood massacre. Well, I have to admit that that "encyclopedia" is good reading, despite its subjective, collectivist standards of truth.
(They hold that as an encyclopedia, they are bound to exclude "original research." Yet, they apply that rule even to trivial and obvious facts, and to conclusions that logically follow therefrom. I.e., everyone can see that grass is green — or maybe yellow or brown sometimes. But if there were no books that say so, but only a book that says grass is striped pink and blue, Wikipedia would write that grass is striped pink and blue.)
Anyway, this article is definitely required reading. Obama would call it a teachable moment.
We learn that:
(A) Jealousy is indeed, as the word itself proclaims, lousy.
(B) Lying can have unintended consequences (unless you hold that Fannie was aware her lie would get local blacks into trouble, but didn't care shit).
(C) We're barely out of the Dark Ages: This happened in the US four score and seven years ago, not in medieval Europe.
(D) Man is nothing but a sub-animal if he doesn't think. If he doesn't think, his scheming mind and his ability to use tools make him even more dangerous than the worst animal monster.
— Friedrich Schiller
In context…
…this, like the Wikipedia article's harping on the "extra-legal" nature of the crimes, would imply that "the rule of law" and submission to "legitimate authority" are any better than "extra-legal" action.
So we finally learn that:
(E) Nothing could be farther from the truth. Often, legal action is at least as bad as extra-legal action. Whether an innocent black man is lynched for "raping" a white woman or whether he is sentenced by an all-white jury to be murdered, he's just as dead.
Likewise, sometimes extra-legal action is superior to the rule of law. Look, once again, at Bernie Goetz.
The law demanded that Bernie do nothing while he got assaulted and mugged, and maybe raped and murdered, and the law did nothing to protect him, but everything to protect hoodlums. When Bernie fought back, it was the only possible moral action.
(This is, ironically, from a racial point of view, the diametrical opposite of the Rosewood massacre: an innocent white man attacked by black hoodlums. Goes to prove that neither of the races is superior.)
Likewise, if an innocent black man is on death row, about to be murdered by the government, and there is no appeal left, what other moral action can there be but to break him out of jail?
That face belonged to one Fannie Taylor, who was afraid to admit to her husband that she had a lover. So when that lover beat her up, she blamed a fictitious black trespasser. The upshot: The predominantly black hamlet of Rosewood was burned to the ground by a white mob, which murdered several black people in the process.
Today everybody's favorite joke of an encyclopedia features an article on the Rosewood massacre. Well, I have to admit that that "encyclopedia" is good reading, despite its subjective, collectivist standards of truth.
(They hold that as an encyclopedia, they are bound to exclude "original research." Yet, they apply that rule even to trivial and obvious facts, and to conclusions that logically follow therefrom. I.e., everyone can see that grass is green — or maybe yellow or brown sometimes. But if there were no books that say so, but only a book that says grass is striped pink and blue, Wikipedia would write that grass is striped pink and blue.)
Anyway, this article is definitely required reading. Obama would call it a teachable moment.
We learn that:
(A) Jealousy is indeed, as the word itself proclaims, lousy.
(B) Lying can have unintended consequences (unless you hold that Fannie was aware her lie would get local blacks into trouble, but didn't care shit).
(C) We're barely out of the Dark Ages: This happened in the US four score and seven years ago, not in medieval Europe.
(D) Man is nothing but a sub-animal if he doesn't think. If he doesn't think, his scheming mind and his ability to use tools make him even more dangerous than the worst animal monster.
'Tis dangerous to wake the lion,
Destructive is the tiger's tooth,
But far more fierce, and far more fiendish,
Deluded man bereft of ruth.
Woe to them who lend the sightless
The heavenly torch to light the way!
It guides them not, it can but kindle,
And towns and lands in ashes lay.
— Friedrich Schiller
In context…
The master, with judicious training,
Knows when 'tis best to break the mold;
But woe! when streams of ore, all glowing,
Rush unchecked from out their hold!
Blind raging, like the thunder's crashing,
It bursts its fractured bed of earth,
As if from out hell's jaws, fierce flashing,
It spewed its flaming ruin forth.
Where forces rude are madly reigning,
There can no perfect form be framing;
When nations would themselves be freeing,
The common weal will soon be fleeing.
Woe, when in the heart of cities
The smoldering embers heaped-up lie,
When the people, fetters bursting,
Help themselves with savage cry!
Rebellion, at the bell's strong cable,
Sendeth out a howling sound;
Though consecrate to peace and quiet,
The tocsin rings the signal round.
"Equal'ty and Freedom!" men are shrilling,
To arms the peaceful burghers fly,
The streets and halls with crowds are filling,
And murd'rous bands around there hie.
Then women, to hyenas turning,
'Mid horrors mock and jeer and jest,
And tear, with panther's frenzy burning,
The heart from every hostile breast.
There's naught that's sacred more, for breaking
Are all the bonds of pious fear?
The bad the good one's place is taking,
Vice knows no law in its career.
'Tis dangerous to wake the lion,
Destructive is the tiger's tooth,
But far more fierce, and far more fiendish,
Deluded man bereft of ruth.
Woe to them who lend the sightless
The heavenly torch to light the way!
It guides them not, it can but kindle,
And towns and lands in ashes lay.
…this, like the Wikipedia article's harping on the "extra-legal" nature of the crimes, would imply that "the rule of law" and submission to "legitimate authority" are any better than "extra-legal" action.
So we finally learn that:
(E) Nothing could be farther from the truth. Often, legal action is at least as bad as extra-legal action. Whether an innocent black man is lynched for "raping" a white woman or whether he is sentenced by an all-white jury to be murdered, he's just as dead.
Likewise, sometimes extra-legal action is superior to the rule of law. Look, once again, at Bernie Goetz.
The law demanded that Bernie do nothing while he got assaulted and mugged, and maybe raped and murdered, and the law did nothing to protect him, but everything to protect hoodlums. When Bernie fought back, it was the only possible moral action.
(This is, ironically, from a racial point of view, the diametrical opposite of the Rosewood massacre: an innocent white man attacked by black hoodlums. Goes to prove that neither of the races is superior.)
Likewise, if an innocent black man is on death row, about to be murdered by the government, and there is no appeal left, what other moral action can there be but to break him out of jail?
Labels:
capitalism,
gun rights,
history,
horror,
love,
Obamastan
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Quote of the Day
"Nothing in the world can take the place of perseverance. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Perseverance and determination alone are omnipotent."
— Calvin Coolidge
— Calvin Coolidge
Labels:
capitalism,
quotes
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Crowley Should Get Fired
The only reason to have a police force in the first place is that, unlike stereotypical vigilantes, the police are supposedly able to disinterestedly enforce objective laws that equally apply to everyone. That's what the people pay taxes for.
A vindictive agent that bends the law to boost his own ego, to take revenge on some insurgent who insulted him, need not be purchased at the price of tax money. "Vigilantism" like that can be had free of charge.
(In fact, Bernie Goetz is a far better agent of justice than Sergeant Crowley. I mean that seriously, without any prejudice against and with all respect due to Bernie.)
Sergeant Crowley has clearly demonstrated that he is unable to remain disinterested and professional under provocation. That ought to disqualify him as an officer of the law.
If they keep the likes of Crowley as police officers in Massachusetts, they might just as well introduce anarchy and save a lot of money. Crowley ought to be fired now before he gets a chance to ass rape or shoot somebody he doesn't like.
In fact, there ought to be a database for crooked cops like Crowley, a blacklist (excuse the pun) from which any community that wishes to call itself civilized refuses to hire. Furthermore, as long as dishonorably discharged soldiers are denied the right to keep and bear arms, it should also be denied to dishonorably discharged cops. I would rather see bears armed and kept than something like Crowley.
A vindictive agent that bends the law to boost his own ego, to take revenge on some insurgent who insulted him, need not be purchased at the price of tax money. "Vigilantism" like that can be had free of charge.
(In fact, Bernie Goetz is a far better agent of justice than Sergeant Crowley. I mean that seriously, without any prejudice against and with all respect due to Bernie.)
Sergeant Crowley has clearly demonstrated that he is unable to remain disinterested and professional under provocation. That ought to disqualify him as an officer of the law.
If they keep the likes of Crowley as police officers in Massachusetts, they might just as well introduce anarchy and save a lot of money. Crowley ought to be fired now before he gets a chance to ass rape or shoot somebody he doesn't like.
In fact, there ought to be a database for crooked cops like Crowley, a blacklist (excuse the pun) from which any community that wishes to call itself civilized refuses to hire. Furthermore, as long as dishonorably discharged soldiers are denied the right to keep and bear arms, it should also be denied to dishonorably discharged cops. I would rather see bears armed and kept than something like Crowley.
Labels:
Ayn Rand,
capitalism,
going postal,
gun rights
Gates Got Suckered
"Cambridge police acted stupidly in arresting somebody when there was already proof that they were in their own home." — The Obama
In fact Obama was charitable calling Sergeant Crowley stupid. Obviously, he was applying Heinlein's Razor: Never attribute to malice that which can be adequately explained by stupidity, but don't rule out malice.
But I'm afraid, this time around the latter caution is true and it was malice. Crowley admitted as much in his own police report and hoped to get away with it.
By his own admission, Crowley asked a fuming Henry Louis Gates to talk with him outside. When Gates complied, he arrested him for "disorderly conduct."
If there were any truth to Crowley's flimsy excuse that he had to go outside due to the acoustics of the kitchen and his radio reception, he ought to have warned a Gates not fit for polite society to stay behind, in his house. Under no circumstances should he have asked Gates to follow him, inevitably inviting the scene that ensued outside, and that Crowley then called "disorderly conduct."
This is called entrapment. The police inviting you to break the law is always immoral, but Crowley didn't even do it to wage that foolish government-sponsored war on drugs, but he did it to quench his own personal thirst for vengeance. This is called corruption.
Crowley very obviously decided to retaliate against Gates' unruly threat, "You don't know who you're messing with!" So what is abody cop pig to do to get an excuse to shoot or at least use some sort of physical force against an unruly peon?
Much as Crowley may hate it, it's perfectly legal to shout at a police officer in your own home. (Except in Soviet Russia and Prussia, where contempt of cop was a capital crime.)
Crowley also knew he could never arrest Gates for breaking and entering on his own property without the city losing a million-dollar lawsuit. Leaves that catchall charge, that crooked cop's best friend, "disorderly conduct."
But Crowley knew he could only arrest Gates for some barely credible semblance (see below) of disorderly conduct if Gates was in an at least semi-public place. So, knowing or hoping that Gates would not calm down, Crowley lured him outside — and taught "Leroy Brown" a lesson about messing with the man.
Obama should not apologize to Crowley. He should kick him in the ass, so Crowley learns a lesson about how it feels to get abused by an authority figure.
In fact Obama was charitable calling Sergeant Crowley stupid. Obviously, he was applying Heinlein's Razor: Never attribute to malice that which can be adequately explained by stupidity, but don't rule out malice.
But I'm afraid, this time around the latter caution is true and it was malice. Crowley admitted as much in his own police report and hoped to get away with it.
By his own admission, Crowley asked a fuming Henry Louis Gates to talk with him outside. When Gates complied, he arrested him for "disorderly conduct."
If there were any truth to Crowley's flimsy excuse that he had to go outside due to the acoustics of the kitchen and his radio reception, he ought to have warned a Gates not fit for polite society to stay behind, in his house. Under no circumstances should he have asked Gates to follow him, inevitably inviting the scene that ensued outside, and that Crowley then called "disorderly conduct."
This is called entrapment. The police inviting you to break the law is always immoral, but Crowley didn't even do it to wage that foolish government-sponsored war on drugs, but he did it to quench his own personal thirst for vengeance. This is called corruption.
Crowley very obviously decided to retaliate against Gates' unruly threat, "You don't know who you're messing with!" So what is a
Much as Crowley may hate it, it's perfectly legal to shout at a police officer in your own home. (Except in Soviet Russia and Prussia, where contempt of cop was a capital crime.)
Crowley also knew he could never arrest Gates for breaking and entering on his own property without the city losing a million-dollar lawsuit. Leaves that catchall charge, that crooked cop's best friend, "disorderly conduct."
But Crowley knew he could only arrest Gates for some barely credible semblance (see below) of disorderly conduct if Gates was in an at least semi-public place. So, knowing or hoping that Gates would not calm down, Crowley lured him outside — and taught "Leroy Brown" a lesson about messing with the man.
Obama should not apologize to Crowley. He should kick him in the ass, so Crowley learns a lesson about how it feels to get abused by an authority figure.
The stilted language in the Gates police report is intended to mirror the courts' awkward phrasing, but the state could never make the charge stick. The law is aimed not at mere irascibility but rather at unruly behavior likely to set off wider unrest. Accordingly, the behavior must take place in public or on private property where people tend to gather. While the police allege that a crowd had formed outside Gates' property, it is rare to see a disorderly conduct conviction for behavior on the suspect's own front porch. In addition, political speech is excluded from the statute because of the First Amendment. Alleging racial bias, as Gates was doing, and protesting arrest both represent core political speech.
Labels:
going postal,
Obamastan
Who's Laughing Now?
Investor Peter Schiff predicted the recession all along, but got laughed out of the studio. Who's laughing now?
No one. Least of all the fine tuners of economies and rulers of men left and right.
(Hat tip to Joshua Zader of The Atlasphere):
No one. Least of all the fine tuners of economies and rulers of men left and right.
(Hat tip to Joshua Zader of The Atlasphere):
Labels:
capitalism
Sunday, July 26, 2009
BrĂ¼no Will Brew No Tempest in a Teapot
You know that cliché about that freight train carrying a couple thousand tons of iron ore, pulled by four locomotives, bearing down on a Japanese subcompact car? You know, something that's in no way a pretty sight, but you keep looking anyway, for its sick entertainment value?
That's BrĂ¼no for you. You might as well skip this movie if it's not too late and you watched it already. (In case you've been living on the moon, the movie chronicles the misadventures of the eponymous gay, Austrian fashion reporter, embodied by Sacha "Borat" Baron Cohen.)
There's nothing good about that movie: I didn't expect a plot, but even the "acting," costumes, and mock German dialogue are too silly and over the top to be entertaining or credible to anybody but maybe to Palinesque hillbillies. You only keep watching and laughing at the reactions of allegedly real people that have to bear the brunt of this shit load of bad taste. (Whatever they paid that medium wasn't nearly enough.)
Unfortunately (?), nothing much happens. If there's one thing you can learn from this movie it's that these days even the worst kinds of people are more tolerant and less violent than I would have thought.
Or am I the only one who's not in on the joke here? I can't shake the feeling that those "real" people were mostly actors. Those references to Milli Vanilli must be Cohen's way of thumbing his nose at his credulous viewers.
It's hard to believe that that homophobic (mostly) white trash from Alabama and beyond let themselves get hit on and provoked by "BrĂ¼no" without killing him. But if that footage is genuine, it's fair to say that some day soon Cohen will probably get himself killed for his antics.
Whatever laughs you get out of BrĂ¼no are certainly too few to justify the movie's spreading of silly homophobic stereotypes. Dude, not funny.
That's BrĂ¼no for you. You might as well skip this movie if it's not too late and you watched it already. (In case you've been living on the moon, the movie chronicles the misadventures of the eponymous gay, Austrian fashion reporter, embodied by Sacha "Borat" Baron Cohen.)
There's nothing good about that movie: I didn't expect a plot, but even the "acting," costumes, and mock German dialogue are too silly and over the top to be entertaining or credible to anybody but maybe to Palinesque hillbillies. You only keep watching and laughing at the reactions of allegedly real people that have to bear the brunt of this shit load of bad taste. (Whatever they paid that medium wasn't nearly enough.)
Unfortunately (?), nothing much happens. If there's one thing you can learn from this movie it's that these days even the worst kinds of people are more tolerant and less violent than I would have thought.
Or am I the only one who's not in on the joke here? I can't shake the feeling that those "real" people were mostly actors. Those references to Milli Vanilli must be Cohen's way of thumbing his nose at his credulous viewers.
It's hard to believe that that homophobic (mostly) white trash from Alabama and beyond let themselves get hit on and provoked by "BrĂ¼no" without killing him. But if that footage is genuine, it's fair to say that some day soon Cohen will probably get himself killed for his antics.
Whatever laughs you get out of BrĂ¼no are certainly too few to justify the movie's spreading of silly homophobic stereotypes. Dude, not funny.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Whither Iceland?
Iceland applied to join the European Union. Given her position in mid-Atlantic, one wonders why she didn't apply for statehood in the United States instead of joining the European slave states?
But then, with Obama in office, there's probably not much of a difference anymore.
But then, with Obama in office, there's probably not much of a difference anymore.
Labels:
Obamastan
A Boy Named Well
Alex extends his heartfelt congratulations and good wishes to the thousands of couples who named their baby son for him last year. (What? Conceited, me?) Anyway, I was considering sending y'all a toaster oven in recognition of your good taste, but then I thought you may not want to have a toaster oven with a baby in your home.
BTW, word is that one poor baby boy goes by the moniker of Bronx Mowgli now. If I ever have a son, I'm gonna name him Staten Island Chuck.
BTW, word is that one poor baby boy goes by the moniker of Bronx Mowgli now. If I ever have a son, I'm gonna name him Staten Island Chuck.
Labels:
fun facts
Monday, July 13, 2009
And Her Name Is Bobbie Brown?
(With apologies to Frank Zappa.)
Hey there, people, I'm Sarah Brown
They say I'm the cutest chick in town
My truck is fast, my gun is shiny
I tell all the Brights they can kiss my heinie
Here I am at a backwoods school
I'm dressing sharp 'n' I'm acting cool
I got an ice skater here wants to help with my daughter
Let him do all the PR 'n' maybe later he'll wed her
Oh god I am the American Dream
I do not think I'm too extreme
And I'm a handsome sort of a bitch
I'm gonna get that prez job 'n' be a real witch
(Get that prez get that prez get that prez get that prez job)
Black men's liberation
Came creeping all across the nation
I tell you people I was not weighty
When I got fucked by this dyke by the name of Katie
She made a little speech flat,
Aw, she tried to make me say what
She had my brains in a vice, but she left the trap
I guess it's still hooked on, but now it shoots just crap
Oh god I am the American Dream
But now I smell like turkey cream
And I'm a miserable sort of a bitch
Am I an ass or a lady… I don't know which
(I wonder, wonder, wonder, wonder)
So I went out 'n' bought me a business suit
I jingle your change, but I'm still kinda cute
I got a job doin' radio promo
And none of the cops can even tell I shot a homo
Eventually me 'n' a friend
Sorta drifted along into bailout land
I can sell you an hour on the tower of power
Long as I gets a little golden shower
Oh god I am the American Dream
With a bible up your butt till it makes you scream
And I'll do anything to get ahead
I lay awake nights sayin', fuck you, Kate!
Oh god, oh god, I'm so fantastic!
Thanks to Katie, I'm an intellectual spastic
And my name is Sarah Brown
Watch me now, I'm goin' down,
"Country first" is sort of brown
Watch me now, I'm goin' down,
And this dame, her shirt is brown
Watch her now, she's goin' down
Hey there, people, I'm Sarah Brown
They say I'm the cutest chick in town
My truck is fast, my gun is shiny
I tell all the Brights they can kiss my heinie
Here I am at a backwoods school
I'm dressing sharp 'n' I'm acting cool
I got an ice skater here wants to help with my daughter
Let him do all the PR 'n' maybe later he'll wed her
Oh god I am the American Dream
I do not think I'm too extreme
And I'm a handsome sort of a bitch
I'm gonna get that prez job 'n' be a real witch
(Get that prez get that prez get that prez get that prez job)
Black men's liberation
Came creeping all across the nation
I tell you people I was not weighty
When I got fucked by this dyke by the name of Katie
She made a little speech flat,
Aw, she tried to make me say what
She had my brains in a vice, but she left the trap
I guess it's still hooked on, but now it shoots just crap
Oh god I am the American Dream
But now I smell like turkey cream
And I'm a miserable sort of a bitch
Am I an ass or a lady… I don't know which
(I wonder, wonder, wonder, wonder)
So I went out 'n' bought me a business suit
I jingle your change, but I'm still kinda cute
I got a job doin' radio promo
And none of the cops can even tell I shot a homo
Eventually me 'n' a friend
Sorta drifted along into bailout land
I can sell you an hour on the tower of power
Long as I gets a little golden shower
Oh god I am the American Dream
With a bible up your butt till it makes you scream
And I'll do anything to get ahead
I lay awake nights sayin', fuck you, Kate!
Oh god, oh god, I'm so fantastic!
Thanks to Katie, I'm an intellectual spastic
And my name is Sarah Brown
Watch me now, I'm goin' down,
"Country first" is sort of brown
Watch me now, I'm goin' down,
And this dame, her shirt is brown
Watch her now, she's goin' down
Labels:
music,
Sarah Palin,
writing
Sunday, July 12, 2009
United Breaks Guitars
Something very much like that happened to me when I flew United from LA to San Francisco some years ago. And that was before those terrorists flew jetliners into buildings. Nowadays I'd probably be arrested and tortured for complaining…
Who's the #1 villain here? The lowlifes on the tarmac that throw musical instruments?
Or their employer, which pays them minimum wage, motivating them to become lowlifes that break passengers' property? Or us passengers, who want the cheapest tickets, making it impossible for airlines to pay more than minimum wage?
Anyway, as long as airlines' service remains as bad, and security fascism as paranoid, I can only say: If you can't afford a private jet, don't fly, unless you absolutely have to. Go by car, or if possible, by train.
Dave Carroll stuck it to the man. So should you!
Labels:
capitalism,
law of causality,
music
Friday, July 10, 2009
The Second Coming of Tess McGill
Or, there are barracudas in the typing pool.
In other words, capitalism is a two-way street. (Given the definition, voluntary cooperation to mutual advantage, that should be a no-brainer.)
If your employer screws you over, you screw him in the ass.
Well, not just the psychological contract (there's such a thing as an oral contract), and they don't.
No, you don't. Your employer has decided that, as the ship is sinking, it's every man for himself, so you don't have to ask before you bail out.
Stick it to the man!
In other words, capitalism is a two-way street. (Given the definition, voluntary cooperation to mutual advantage, that should be a no-brainer.)
If your employer screws you over, you screw him in the ass.
At a time when so many companies are laying off workers, slashing wages and benefits, and instituting furloughs, it's not surprising that some employees feel no obligation to be nice when they head out the door, says David Kaplan, management professor for Saint Louis University. "It's understandable," he adds, "because they feel the employer has violated the psychological contract with employees, and they don't feel they owe them anything."
Well, not just the psychological contract (there's such a thing as an oral contract), and they don't.
"If your employer has cut your salary and benefits to where your family is struggling financially, do you owe your employer that two weeks' notice when you leave?"
No, you don't. Your employer has decided that, as the ship is sinking, it's every man for himself, so you don't have to ask before you bail out.
Whether it's giving notice, training your replacement or abiding by noncompete agreements you may have signed, these post-employment niceties that were expected once upon a time are not a given in today's workplace.
"I think it's a function of the economy," says Lewis Maltby, president of the National Workrights Institute. "If your employer has been treating you well, morally you should give as much notice as you can. On the other hand, if your boss is screwing you, you don't want to be nice.
"It's a dog fight out there. No one is playing nice anymore. This is more ethics than law."
Indeed, you're not legally obligated to give notice, unless you have a detailed employment contract that says you have to.
Stick it to the man!
Labels:
capitalism,
law of causality
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
We Don't Need Michael Jackson!
This space was previously wasted by an article agreeing with the fascist swine, Peter King.
It has been shown that everything Pete King says is wrong. Whenever he says something, the opposite is true.
Thus, this article must have been wrong and has been duly removed.
It has been shown that everything Pete King says is wrong. Whenever he says something, the opposite is true.
Thus, this article must have been wrong and has been duly removed.
Labels:
capitalism,
music,
values
Monday, July 06, 2009
The Opposite of Sarah Palin
Did you ever notice that the diametrical opposite of Sarah Palin is parasailing?
Phonetics aside, one is tropical, fun, and modern, and the other is…
Phonetics aside, one is tropical, fun, and modern, and the other is…
Labels:
fun facts,
Sarah Palin
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