Driftglass: "Their model public servant is Dirty Harry, their motto for public debate is 'Shut the Fuck Up!', and they know deep in their brownshirted little hearts that only queers and Mama’s Boys want to grow up to be Parliamentarians… [but] I’m a shameless process whore."
Me, too—for all the same reasons as my man Drifty, reasons which are neither gallant nor sexy, but "the daily public business of maintaining a constitutional democracy" never is.
Anyway, go read the whole thing. It’s a good'un.
Shameless Process Whores Anonymous
sing, sing a song
Here's something funny to start your week:
See also: The Complaints Choir of Birmingham
(compliments, not complaints to John fo this one)
The War on Peace
Fought with the best weaponry no money can buy—staggering stupidity:
A homeowners association in southwestern Colorado has threatened to fine a resident $25 a day until she removes a Christmas wreath with a peace sign that some say is an anti-Iraq war protest or a symbol of Satan.
Devilry!!!
The president of the association said that “three or four” residents complained about the wreath, because they have children serving in Iraq and/or because they believe the wreath is a Satanic symbol. When the association’s architectural control committee failed to order the dastardly wreath-hanger to remove the highly offensive holiday item, the association president fired all five of them. Nice one.
So, parents whose kid is serving in Iraq are offended by a peace sign, even though our troops are themselves ostensibly trying to secure peace in Iraq, and, by all accounts, peace is usually the key ingredient to saving soldiers’ lives. And some “other” people are offended, because the peace sign is Satanic—a common misperception among members of the fundamentalist Christian community, in which has been promulgated the myth that the peace sign is an upside-down broken cross. Unable to read any language of symbols but their own, and content in their ignorance, they’ve no idea the peace sign was created as a merging of the semaphoric signals for the letters N and D, short for nuclear disarmament. But why bother with the facts when screaming “Satan!” like the Church Lady is so much easier?
“Peace” is an important component—or is meant to be—of the Christian Christmas celebration: Peace on earth, pray for peace people everywhere, his gospel is peace, in his name all oppression shall cease, peace peace, heavenly peace! Jesus Christ is referred to as the Prince of Peace! The peace sign itself may not be a Christian symbol, but the desire for peace is certainly part of the Christian tradition and very specifically part of the Christmas “holyday.” But instead of looking at their neighbor’s peace sign and seeing the spirit of their holiday, these good Christians had to start a war.
Over a peace sign.
Tell me again who’s fighting the war on Christmas…?
Here's Lucy...
When I watch stuff like this, I realize just how much today's television sucks by comparison. It's not like you're ever going to tune into "The View" to see a conga line being led by John Waters and a slightly dazed Maya Angelou bringing up the rear. You could have seen that shit back in the day, though. Just ask Dr. Joyce Brothers.
The Virtual Bar Is Open
If you've got any room left over in your belly,
might as well fill it up with booze, right?
Drink up, Shakers!
And please welcome a dear friend of mine,
And please welcome a dear friend of mine,
who's agreed to perform one of my favorite songs
at the virtual pub tonight. Take it away, E.
Quote of the Day
"You know what the good news is? Judith Regan is now on a plane to California, trying to sign Michael Richards to a book deal: If I Were a Racist, Here's What I Would Have Said." — Kenny Kramer, the man on whom Richards’ Seinfeld character was based.
The Violence in Iraq Continues Unabated
Shiite militiamen doused six Sunni Arabs with kerosene and burned them alive as Iraqi soldiers stood by, and killed 19 other Sunnis in attacks on their mosques Friday…That’s a civil war. I don’t know how the administration and its brain-dead supporters can continue to argue what’s happening in Iraq is anything but. They are completely delusional. Just look at this asinine response from the White House:
The Baghdad attacks appeared to have been a reaction to the deaths in Sadr City on Thursday, when Sunnis unleashed bombs and mortars that killed 215 people and wounded 257 in the deadliest assault since the U.S.-led invasion.
"We condemn such acts of senseless violence that are clearly aimed at undermining the Iraqi people's hopes for a peaceful and stable Iraq," said White House spokesman Jeanie Mamo.Okay, first of all, they need to stop talking about “the Iraqi people” as if the Shiite and Sunni militia members aren’t Iraqis. Some of them may not be, but most of them are. Such a misstatement of reality helps facilitate the administration’s oft-cited flypaper theory to define “the Iraqi people” in contradistinction to militias, thereby subtly reinforcing the claim that terrorists are pouring into Iraq from the outside, as opposed to being created within Iraq’s borders by a variety of pressures, not least of which being our occupying presence. It’s an obscenely mendacious habit of Team Bush to frame nationals who do their will as “the X people”—when Bush gives a speech on the Federal Marriage Amendment, he says “the American people” want marriage to be between a man and woman, as if the LGBT community and its allies aren’t actually “American people.” The same thing’s going on here. Some Iraqi people certainly do have hopes for a peaceful and stable nation. Some clearly have hopes to exploit the chaotic morass we recreated to fight a centuries-old sectarian war. And some just want us the hell out of there and think that using bombs is the best way to accomplish that goal. They’re all Iraqi people—not just the ones who aren’t making our little nation-building endeavor not quite as easy as was foolishly predicted.
Secondly, this constant reference to “senseless violence” is illustrative of a deeply immature reluctance to speak about this war in a grown-up way. The violence is not senseless; it does indeed have a rationale and a purpose—which, of course, Team Bush plainly knows, since they inevitably follow up their accusations of senselessness by substituting the only explanation for the violence acceptable to them. The violence is “aimed at undermining the Iraqi people’s hopes for a peaceful and stable Iraq.” Any other explanation is intolerable to them (as it might begin to suggest a catastrophic policy failure), and is therefore not to be seriously examined.
It is absolutely stunning—stunning—that at this point Bush would still rather pretend that everything hasn’t gone desperately, irrevocably wrong, than show the merest glimmer of interest in engaging reality and beginning, at long last, to figure out how to start making things right—or if that’s even possible at this point. (Probably not.)
Thank You From the Heart of My Bottom
At Shakes Manor, we were trying to decide what would be a perfect Thanksgiving song to post this evening. I suggested Morrissey's Now My Heart Is Full, because, in the end, I have so much for which to be thankful, not least of which being the Shakes community, that my heart really is full.
Mr. Shakes agreed it was a good choice. "Especially becoose my belly is fooll, too!"
Wise words from a very soulful Scot. Happy Thanksgiving, once again, Shakers.
Do they know it's Thanksgiving?
Iraqis celebrating the seasonGeorge Bush, November 16, 2006:
At this time of great promise for America, we are grateful for the freedoms guaranteed by our Constitution and defended by our Armed Forces throughout the generations. Today, many of these courageous men and women are securing our peace in places far from home, and we pay tribute to them and to their families for their service, sacrifice, and strength. We also honor the families of the fallen and lift them up in our prayers.Our citizens are privileged to live in the world's freest country, where the hope of the American dream is within the reach of every person. Americans share a desire to answer the universal call to serve something greater than ourselves, and we see this spirit every day in the millions of volunteers throughout our country who bring hope and healing to those in need. On this Thanksgiving Day, and throughout the year, let us show our gratitude for the blessings of freedom, family, and faith, and may God continue to bless America.
Six car bombs killed more than 130 people Thursday in Baghdad's Sadr City, according to Iraq's health minister.Police had conflicting numbers for those killed and wounded, but Health Minister Ali Shummari said the death toll is 133, with 201 wounded.
(Waveflux notes: Fatality estimate later revised to 144. More revisions possible.)
Earlier, police said three car bombings and a mortar round firing occurred within a 30-minute period in Sadr City, a densely populated Shiite slum in northeastern Baghdad.
The minister said a missile was fired in addition to the car blasts.
In a separate incident, police also said U.S. forces killed four people Thursday when they opened fire on a minibus in Sadr City.
I imagine that the gratitude of the people of Iraq - for the blessings bestowed unto them - simply cannot be expressed in words.
(Cross-posted.)
Question of the Day
What’s your most memorable Thanksgiving?
Mine’s got to be the year we went to my aunt and uncle’s house in Cincinnati for the then-annual huge family gathering, and something (a batch of undercooked sausage stuffing was the suspected culprit) gave half of us food poisoning. So in a house filled with about 20 people, a dozen or so were hurling—after, of course, eating the single biggest meal we eat all year. My cousin (now in his 20s, but then about two) was going from bucket to bucket held at faces and saying, “What’s in dere? What’s in dere?” as if we were hiding mysterious treasures from him. My mom and sister were fine; my dad and I were yakking it for days. Pops and I spent most of the 5-hour drive home with our heads buried in garbage bags.
I know that sounds like a terrible Thanksgiving, and, at the time, it was—but it’s provided many, many years of laughter at subsequent Thanksgivings, so it was all worth it.
Gore
ABC News' Teddy Davis Reports: Former Vice President Gore told ABC Radio's David Blaustein today that he has not yet heard an "adequate" environmental platform from any potential presidential candidate. He added, however, that he thinks that will change.So, here’s my suggestion*: Edwards runs, and makes, along with poverty, the environment a key issue of his campaign. Poverty. Environment. Poverty. Environment. And Gore doesn’t run, but says he’d be interested in being the veep for any candidate who makes the environment a centerpiece of his/her campaign, because the veep slot would allow him to be an energy guru in a way the presidency wouldn’t. Then Edwards says he’d love to have Gore as his #2. Edwards/Gore 2008.
"I haven't heard any of them make definitive and clear statements of a platform on this that I think is yet adequate," said Gore. "But I'm confident that many of them will."
…When Blaustein asked Gore if he would obey his own advice to "rise above yourself and rise against history" by making another White House run, Gore said, "I'll reflect on what you say" and promised to keep his "eyes open all along the way" while adding that he does "not have plans to be a candidate again" and that he is "involved in a different kind of campaign to change people's minds."
This plan may involve Hillary being abducted by aliens. I’m still working that bit out.
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* From the Home Office in Fantasyland.
Is our children learning?
Mr. Shakes and I have been having fun watching the Celebrity Jeopardy tournament these past few weeks, particularly the episode featuring competitors Joely Fisher (a box of rocks), Martin Short (dumber than a box of rocks), and Mario Cantone (clever but insanely hyperactive), which looked like a parody of the SNL parody of Celebrity Jeopardy.
And even though we missed it yesterday for a damn good reason, I’m seriously lamenting have missed Margaret Spellings getting trounced.
What’s more embarrassing than being Secretary of Education and having your ass handed to you on Celebrity Jeopardy? Being Secretary of Education and having your ass handed to you on Celebrity Jeopardy by Lenny from “Laverne & Shirley.”Heh. Hot Air’s got some video of the slaughter. And because it’s No Celebrity Left Behind on Celebrity Jeopardy, she still got $25,000 for whatever her chosen charity was. Probably some faith-based literacy initiative. Hooked on Philippians.
She was more than twenty thousand dollars behind at the start of Final Jeopardy.
(Btw, Michael McKean has always struck me as a very intelligent fellow. I’m not surprised at all that he won.)
Colour
Usually I'm pretty skeptical and critical of advertising, but this is one of the most beautiful ads I've seen in a long time.
Even with the clown running through it.
(Tip 'o the Energy Dome to my friend Kobb.)
How sad is Bill Frist?
So sad that this is the actual dream house the presumed 2008 GOP presidential candidate is building in Nashville.
Who needs the popular vote to get into the White House, when you can just build one for yourself?
No word on whether it comes prefitted with gorilla testosterone-scented air fresheners, but my top secret anonymous sources tell me that his wife Karyn plans on requiring the help to refer to her as “the Frist Lady.”
Via Maru, who calls Frist pathetic, but notes “that's just my diagnosis from watching him on video footage.”
Don't Forget the Songs...
To a lonely soul
Is so easily outgrown
…But don't forget the songs
That made you cry
And the songs that saved your life
Yes, you're older now
And you're a clever swine
But they were the only ones who ever stood by you
—The Smiths, “Rubber Ring”
Morrissey decided, for some inexplicable reason, to do only a single US show on his world tour in support of his latest album, Ringleader of the Tormentors, since its release in April. And because he didn’t want me to plunge myself into a fit of despair, he chose Chicago, of course. So last night, I got to spend the evening with my dearest love, Mr. Shakes, and my longest love, Morrissey.
I’ve written before about seeing the video for How Soon Is Now on 120 Minutes, and hearing Viva Hate for the first time, and how The Smiths’ and Morrissey’s songs have provided the soundtrack to my life, so familiar, such a part of me, that I regard them with the same wonder, and take them as much for granted, as my own thoughts. I’ve been told I sing them in my sleep. If you’ve ever heard a song that makes you feel it must have been written just for you, that climbs inside you and stays there, never losing its meaning and ever being able to inspire as a new idea yet comfort as an old blanket, you know what I mean. About every last song Mozza has ever given me.
Even the bad one.
What I love about the concerts is all the people who feel the same. I always hope I am surrounded by people who will dance and swoon and sing at the top of their lungs, who will laugh knowingly and cheer when he cheekily changes the lyrics, as is his wont. (Upon hearing for the first time the lyric off the newest album, “Living longer than I had intended / Something must have gone right,” I commented to Mr. Shakes, “He’ll sing ‘something must have gone wrong’ at the concert,” and he did.) I look down, from the first row balcony seats overlooking the stage for which I race to plant my ripe old arse these days, at the desperately outstretched arms at the front the ballroom floor, and I root for them to graze their fingertips against those of the man who means so much to them. They’re so unlucky, I think, with contemptuous regard for the six-foot barrier now standing between them and the stage. We held him, and he held us, back in the day.
I always hope that I’m surrounded by people whose eyes will well with tears at an encore consisting, simply, of Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want, just like mine did.
To love music, and a man behind it, so profoundly is a very personal thing, particularly when the source of that adoration is so firmly rooted in that about which he sings—human experience, love, loss, pain, joy—so specifically, from the perspective of a mute witness, or a disfigured girl, or a young man struggling to come to terms with his sexuality. The concerts afford me the chance to see that deep appreciation for his gentle insistence on empathy flowing through so many others, and they make me hopeful and happy. The only thing that can make me tear my eyes off of Morrissey is the crowd.
Last night’s show was his ninth stop in Chicago over the course of five tours since 1991, including three others at the same beautiful venue—the Aragon Ballroom—and I’ve been at all of them. I always will be.
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A bit of amusement: This was, truly, one of Morrissey’s best concerts I’ve ever attended. He was in splendid form—his voice was spectacular, the staging was spot-on, and his band was smoking. And he was unusually chatty, though predictably mischievous. During I Will See You in Far Off Places, which contains the lyric, “…and if the USA doesn’t bomb you,” he changed the line to “…and if George Dubya Bush doesn’t bomb you,” to much cheering and applause.
Random Grousing
I was wrong.
This is the day before Thanksgiving; how foolish of me. I should have known that the top stories everywhere would be the same two goddamn stories we see every year:
1. "Gosh! A lot of people are traveling! Look at all these people waiting! Let's hear what they have to say about their wait!"
2. "Gosh! A lot of people are shopping! Here's how to best deal with the crowds!"
Cut and paste in 2007.
And by the way, isn't it about time we gave this stupid tradition the heave-ho? I'm sure after doing this, the President just has a nice salad the next day, right?
