In an incident reminiscent of the UCLA student who was tasered by police last November, a University of Florida journalism student, Andrew Meyer, was tasered yesterday at a John Kerry speech during a Q&A session after "rushing" an open microphone and demanding the Senator answer his questions:
The student claimed that University Police Department officers had already threatened to arrest him, and then proceeded to question Kerry about why he didn't contest the 2004 presidential election and why there had been no moves to impeach President Bush.
A minute or so into what became a combative diatribe, Meyer's microphone was turned off and officers began trying to physically remove him from the auditorium. Meyer flailed his arms, yelling as police tried to restrain him.
Meyer was then pushed to the ground while he screamed for help and demanded to know what he done that warranted arrest. The police threatened to taser him, and, when he resisted being cuffed, though he was being held on the ground by several officers, he was tased, at which point he writhed and screamed in pain.
Throughout the incident, Kerry urged the audience to "cool down" and acknowledged that Meyer had raised an important question. As officers escorted Meyer from the auditorium into the lobby, Kerry went on to explain that he did not think there was sufficient evidence of voter suppression to justify contesting the 2004 election.
"We just couldn't do it in good conscience because we didn't have that evidence," he said.
Speaking of good conscience, I'm curious as to where it falls on the "conscience spectrum" to let a kid who might well be an asshole, but has ultimately appears to have done nothing aside from express his opinions, be detained, handcuffed, and tasered by police without saying a goddamned word to stop it.
Was that auditorium so huge that Kerry couldn't grasp what was happening? I mean, you can see the edge of the stage in the video clip.
If Meyer was being annoyingly, undeterrably disruptive (which, given the scattered applause that erupts as he's detained, he likely was), it's understandable that the police would attempt to remove him. But when they start threatening to employ weaponry against him, and certainly when they do and the kid starts yowling in pain, that's when it's time to intervene. If those cops had been kicking the shit out of him, I can't imagine everyone would have stood idly by.
Indirectly suggested by Nik E. Poo via email: When was the last time you struck up what turned out to be a great conversation with a stranger?
The last time for me would be just the weekend before last, when Mr. Shakes and I went to the USA-Brazil football match in Chicago. The whole extended group met up beforehand at a local pub that does a Sunday brunch, and we ended up sitting next to a superbly nice couple with whom we just chatted away effortlessly and had a good few laughs. Mr. Shakes and I (in case it isn't yet evident, ha) can amuse each other pretty much all the time, so if we're "alone" in a big group, we hardly notice—but we like to end up talking to other people, and frequently do.
On my own, I was recently on my way home on the train when I was seated beside a young woman who was feeling chatty. We had a great conversation about education and politics and who all knows what else, which I enjoyed greatly and which irritated Mr. Shakes, who was bored out of his gourd, stuck in another seat with someone grim and elbowy because the train was packed when we embarked.
A federal prosecutor from Florida was ordered held in custody Monday after he appeared in U.S. District Court in Detroit on a charge that he flew to Detroit intending to have sex with a 5-year-old girl.
John David R. Atchison, 53, of Gulf Breeze, Fla., an assistant U.S. Attorney in Florida's northern district, is expected to appear again in court for a detention hearing on Tuesday.
This charming fella was arrested over the weekend when he arrived at Detroit Metropolitan Airport after conversing with a sheriff's deputy posing online as "a mother who was interested in finding someone to have sex with her children."
According to the complaint, Atchison reassured the sheriff's deputy who was posing as the child's mother that he would not hurt the 5-year-old because he goes "slow and easy," and "I've done it plenty."
Gross.
Given the enormous scandal that erupted over the administration's insistence that every federal prosecutor's office be staffed with administration lackeys, it's probably safe to assume that Atchison is a Republican. Just saying.
Quickie paraphrase/transcript below. Thanks to Petulant for the video.
Jon Stewart asks Stephen Colbert why he has a gas-powered leaf-blower when it's supposed to be the green Emmys, and SC says it runs on alternative fuel—Al Gore's tears, which are highly flammable and plentiful enough to run his power tools because Al Gore "is a big crybaby, Jon. We're so lucky he's not our president."
Then SC accuses JS of traveling in a private jet sandwich, which JS says he has to do because he likes "to meander around three different cabins." Then JS suggests that maybe even green awards shows are a waste of resources, and SC admonishes him: "If entertainers stopped publicly congratulating each other, then the Earth wins!"
JS then asks what if winners were notified by phone or email or wev, and SC exclaims, "Like common MacArthur Genius Grant winners or Nobel Prize recipients?! No, no—not on my watch, Jon. As long as Stephen T. Colbert is alive—and eligible for an Emmy—comedic and dramatic actors will gather to applaud each other yearly, be it by SUV or speedboat or stacked private jet." At which point, JS resolves to purchase a carbon credit after the show "that, when redeemed, will allow some underage Peruvian boys to partially re-sod the Andes."
Then the nominees were read (and Colbert deliberately mispronounces Steve Carell's name) and Ricky Gervais was announced as the winner. After realizing he's not there, JS says: "Ah. Ricky Gervais couldn't be here tonight, so instead we're going to give this to our friend Steve Carell."
Hi all -- I'll introduce myself for those of you who don't know me already. I'm Portly Dyke (frequent commentor, first time-contributor). I'm honored to be joining the Shakesville gang, and may I just say, I feel like Queer Queen For A Day.
I also blog at Teh Portly Dyke and in terms of my typical topicals, you can probably expect me to post about:
Activism for the Horrifically Jaded
Post-Menopausal Feminism
Skeptical Optimism
Hanging Onto Your Humanity (er, Huwomanity?) -- oh fuck it -- Hanging Onto Your Humanity During a Difficult Political Spasm
I tend to alternate between being funny and deadly serious. Just my little nod to the paradoxical universe we inhabit.
I'm honored to be included at Shakesville, and I take requests. Enjoy the buffet.
"I learned early on that if you don’t want your memos to get you in trouble some day, just don’t write any."
Heckuva lesson, Dickie.
I have to say that I am really curious as to what he would be writing in those memos. From the sounds of it, my guess is that all of them would contain enough evidence to throw him in the slammer for consecutive sentences.
C/o Petulant, here's Douchy von Turd at this morning's presser, introducing his nominee for Gonzo's replacement. I swear he's getting more mush-mouthed by the freaking minute.
Liss: Hey, you know how there's like a million and a billion and a trillion and a quadrillion and a quintillion and a sextillion and a septillion and an octillion and decillion? What the nine one?
Mr. Shakes: [stunned by the nonsequitur of the century] What?
Liss: You know, like multiples of a million. I know all the way up to ten, except for nine. Million, billion, trillion, quadrillion, quintillion, sextillion, septillion, octillion…what comes next?
Mr. Shakes: What the fook are ye talking aboot, wooman?
Liss: Okay, like I just read this article not long ago saying that we'd have 1.2 septillion ancestors without inbreeding, if there hadn't been so much of your-uncle-who's-also-your-cousin kind of stuff. And I got to thinking about septillion, and how I knew all the multiples except the nine one.
Mr. Shakes: It's impoossible tae have fooking sepjillion ancestoors oor whatever that stupid noomber is because there are moore people alive today than there have ever been—
Liss: I know, I know! I said that's how many we'd have without inbreeding, like if it was a straight shot backwards: Two parents, four grandparents, eight great-grandparents, and so on. But it doesn't work out that way, because of people marrying cousins and wev. But never mind all that. That was just where the thought about septillions came from and how I didn't know the prefix to indicate a multiple of nine.
Mr. Shakes: It doosn't matter, because noo oone uses thoose woords. They say 10 tae the poower oof soomething. Noo scientist says "quintillion" oor whatever the fook you're babbling aboot, ye wee mad thing.
Liss: Okay, just forget multiples of a million, Mr. Literal Brain. Let's make it multiple births. Twins, triplets, quads, quints, sextuplets, septuplet, octuplets, and then…?
Mr. Shakes: Noontuplets.
Liss: Non? Really? That doesn't sound right.
Mr. Shakes: It is. Noo be shooshed; I'm trying tae goo tae sleep.
Liss: I don't think it's non. Are you telling me a nine-sided figure is called a nonagon?
Mr. Shakes: Aye. Noonagoon.
Liss: "I am a nonagon. I have nine sides." Nonagon's a crappy name to have.
Mr. Shakes: Dae ye knoo hoo many sides a doodecahedroon has?
Liss: A nonillion?
Mr. Shakes: Och aye, wooman. Enoough with the illions!
Liss: Hmm, yeah, a dodecahedron has twelve sides. I guess that makes a 1 followed by 39 zeroes a dodecillion. I don't know the eleven one, though.
Here's the latest thing that states and municipalities are worrying about.
It's a fashion that started in prison, and now the saggy pants craze has come full circle -- low-slung street strutting in some cities may soon mean run-ins with the law, including a stint in jail.
Proposals to ban saggy pants are starting to ride up in several places. At the extreme end, wearing pants low enough to show boxers or bare buttocks in one small Louisiana town means six months in jail and a $500 fine.
A crackdown also is being pushed in Atlanta, Georgia. And in Trenton, New Jersey, getting caught with your pants down may soon result in not only a fine, but a city worker assessing where your life is headed.
"Are they employed? Do they have a high school diploma? It's a wonderful way to redirect at that point," said Trenton Councilwoman Annette Lartigue, who is drafting a law to outlaw saggy pants. "The message is clear: We don't want to see your backside."
The bare-your-britches fashion is believed to have started in prisons, where inmates aren't given belts with their baggy uniform pants to prevent hangings and beatings. By the late 80s, the trend had made it to gangster rap videos, then went on to skateboarders in the suburbs and high school hallways.
"For young people, it's a form of rebellion and identity," Adrian "Easy A.D." Harris, 43, a founding member of the Bronx's legendary rap group Cold Crush Brothers. "The young people think it's fashionable. They don't think it's negative."
But for those who want to stop them see it as an indecent, sloppy trend that is a bad influence on children.
"It has the potential to catch on with elementary school kids, and we want to stop it before it gets there," said C.T. Martin, an Atlanta councilman. "Teachers have raised questions about what a distraction it is."
Where have these people been? The low-riding pants fashion has been around for years, and these folks are just catching up? Hand these people a copy Rolling Stone, somebody.
It's also extremely old news that the whole point of teen fashion is to drive the parents and older generation nuts. My grandmother scandalized her parents with the flapper look in the 1920's, the bobbysoxers did it to theirs in the 1940's, and kids faced expulsion from school in the 1960's for refusing to cut their hair. This gangsta look is just the latest, and who knows what the kids will come up twenty years from now. (With any luck, it'll be bell-bottoms and wide lapels. I still have some of those in the closet.) I just wonder what the hell the kids use to hold the pants up? Velcro? Thumbtacks?
Frankly, I think the people in these towns who are coming up with these laws and fines are just jealous that they can't wear the hippest (sorry) fashion... and thank Dog they can't; I'd hate to see some middle-aged guy going around with his butt-crack showing. That kind of fashion statement is below the belt.
Today is the 220th anniversary of the adoption of the United States Constitution in its original form by the Constitutional Convetnion in Philadelphia.
We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.
Celebrate it, cherish it, honor it, and don't let anyone tell you that the first three words -- We the People -- aren't the most important words in that entire document.
At least not women with a shred of dignity who have the audacity to believe that every aspect of their bodies and lives shouldn't be subject to the whims of "libertarians" like old Billy Boy.
The final (rant) section of his New Rules on Friday (which begins about midway through the below video) was on the subject of breastfeeding. And what I bet you didn't know is that women who breastfeed in public aren't good mothers—they're annoying narcissists! Annoying narcissists who are "too lazy to either plan ahead or cover up." (Yes, breastfeeding mothers of America—why do you consistently fail to plan for your infant children's hunger better? You selfish whores.) Worse yet was Maher's classification of breastfeeding as "an intimate act," and lest you think he didn't mean that as a euphemism for a sex act, he quickly clears it up by joking, "I don't want to watch strangers performing intimate acts. At least not for free," and then comparing it to masturbating in public.
Maher also reduces the incident on which he's basing his rant to "the case of a woman who was breastfeeding in public and asked by an Applebee's manager not to leave but just to cover up a little bit," which is a mendacious misrepresentation of what happened. Brooke Ryan was discreetly nursing in the restaurant when she was asked to cover up with blanket in violation of Kentucky state law, which flatly states: "No person shall interfere with a mother breastfeeding her child in any location, public or private, where the mother is otherwise authorized to be." Nonetheless, Maher insists "Look, there's no principle at work here, other than being too lazy to either plan ahead or cover up," and "It's not fighting for a right, it's fighting for the spotlight." I didn't realize it's fine for people to be denied their legal rights if Bill Maher finds the exercise of those rights distasteful. (I guess he really is a libertarian, after all.)
And after his demeaning tirade about women's breasts being seen in public actually doing what they were designed to do, he tries half-assedly to turn it into a comment on the Iraq War, saying "there will be no end to this dumb war until there is a draft," without a hint of irony or seemingly any recognition of the classic images associated with the draft, e.g. wives cradling fatherless infants and mothers collapsing in grieving heaps at the news of a fallen son.
Transcript: And finally, new rule—and I never thought I'd be the one to say this—but don't show me your tits! [laughter] Last week the world's first nurse-in was held to protest the case of a woman who was breastfeeding in public and asked by an Applebee's manager not to leave but just to cover up a little bit. Because the wait staff got tired of hearing, 'I'll have what that kid's having!' [laughter]
I'm not trying to be insensitive, here. I know your baby needs to eat, but so do I and this is Applebee's, so I'm already nauseous. [laughter] Breastfeeding a baby is an intimate act, and I don't want to watch strangers performing intimate acts. At least not for free. [laughter] It cheapens it.
But breastfeeding activists—yes, breastfeeding activists, called Lactivists [laughter]—say this is a human right and appropriate everywhere, because it's natural. Well, so is masturbating, but I generally don't do that at Applebee's. (laughter and applause) Not in the main dining area, anyway. I mean next thing, women will be wanting to give birth in the waterfall at the mall! [laughter]
Look, there's no principle at work here, other than being too lazy to either plan ahead or cover up. It's not fighting for a right, it's fighting for the spotlight, which you surely will get when you go all Janet Jackson on everyone [laughter] and get to drink in the oohs and ahhs from the other customers because you made a baby! [laughter] Something a dog can do. (laughter and applause) Only in America do women think they deserve a medal for having a kid. In China women give birth on their lunch hour and that afternoon they're back on line painting lead onto Barbie dolls. (laughter and applause)
But this isn't really about women taking their breasts out in public—as much as I'd like them to. It's about how petty and parochial our causes have become, and how activism has become narcissism. It's why Al Gore can't get people to focus on global warming unless there's a rock concert. Melting icebergs, brought to you by Smashing Pumpkins. It's why there will be no end to this dumb war until there is a draft, because at the end of the day, Iraq is somebody else's problem.
And by the way, there is a place where breasts and food do go together. It's called Hooters! (laughter and applause)"
-----------------------------
Hilarious. Meanwhile, I'm wondering how much of both the original complaint and Maher's "New Rule" was influenced by the fact that Brooke Ryan is fat?
So this woman, Tracy Lynn White, was a hospital secretary who had bariatric surgery at The Georgetown Bariatrics Center in Lexington, KY, and
became friends with patients and doctors at the clinic. She eventually observed two surgeries and offered advice to other patients in a support group.
She also wore a stethoscope and white lab coat that identified her as an M.D., told some people she was a medical student from the University of Louisville, and gave patients advice on surgery and medication.
Now, here's the kicker:
Georgetown police Detective Michael Littrell said doctors at the clinic became suspicious of White's behavior and called police.
GEE, WHAT TIPPED THEM OFF?
In all seriousness, I'm pretty confused about what exactly went down here, and I wish some intrepid journalist would go find out for me. How does a secretary/patient get invited to observe surgeries? How does a secretary/patient who's supposedly friends with the staff at a clinic get to WALK AROUND IN A LAB COAT TALKING TO PATIENTS?
Meanwhile, there's one more good reason not to trust a "doctor" who gives you weight loss advice.
Too bad he didn't switch parties years ago. He's probably still be in the Senate if he had.
Lincoln D. Chafee, who lost his Senate seat in the wave of anti-Republican sentiment in last November’s election, said yesterday that he has left the party.
Chafee said he disaffiliated with the party he had helped lead, and his father had led before him, because the national Republican Party has gone too far away from his stance on too many critical issues, from war to economics to the environment.
“It’s not my party any more,” he said.
I guess that pretty much sums it up.
Chaffee is currently serving as a distinguished visiting fellow at the Thomas J. Watson Jr. Institute for International Studies at Brown University.
God help me, I watched the entire Emmys broadcast last night. I was only going to watch a little bit, and then stick on a movie, but it was such a trainwreck that I couldn't tear my eyes away from it.
First of all, the whole "theater-in-the-round" concept was just insane, because the cameras were all one on side, so half the audience just got backs all night, which defeats the entire "in-the-round" concept. When James Spader collected his Emmy, he noted that he's been to thousands of concerts but "these are the worst seats I've ever had."
Then there were the strange, silent cutaways to the ceiling whenever someone said a naughty word, like Sally Field during her acceptance speech, because America's head might explode if they heard the word "goddamn." Particularly ironic, given that the entire phrase was "goddamn wars," so why not censor it since we're currently censoring coverage of the two goddamn wars we're fighting, right?
Then there was the usual sadness—Brad Garrett making lame jokes about Joely Fisher's boobs; Ryan Seacrest (who really is a good presenter) slowly trying to inch his way out of the closet—and some unusual sadness: a musical number by the cast of the Broadway musical The Jersey Boys singing a medley of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons tunes to a backdrop of Sopranos footage. I don't know who the fuck conceived this mad idea, but they obviously didn't stop to consider how unbelievably disturbing it would be to juxtapose lines like "Can't take my eyes off of you / I love you, baby!" with images of a man chasing down and killing a woman in the woods, or "Who loves you, pretty baby?" with images of Tony beating up Carmella. Is that supposed to be ironic? WTF?
Oh!—and I almost forgot about the montage of "topical one-liners," which pulled together a series of mostly unfunny political quips (including probably every joke Jon Stewart has made about the Democrats in the last year) then segued immediately and without explanation into excerpts of the same folks (Stewart, Leno, Letterman, etc.) honoring the recently passed Tom Snyder. Zuh? It made no sense. There was literally not a break in the footage; apparently solemn comments about his death are considered "topical one-liners" by Fox producers.
In good news, the brilliant Terry O'Quinn won for Best Supporting Actor in a Drama for his role as John Locke in Lost, which was cool. And I loved his awesome fuckoff pink shirt.
Finally, the best moment of the night was when Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert presented the Emmy for Best Actor in a Comedy Series, and it went to Ricky Gervais for Extras. Gervais wasn't there, so Stewart announced: "Ricky Gervais isn't here, so we're giving it to our friend Steve Carell!" Carell, who was nominated for The Office (but obviously lost to Gervais) raced onto the stage and a fabulous celebration ensued:
President Bush has selected retired federal judge Michael B. Mukasey as his new attorney general, sources said yesterday, moving to install a law-and-order conservative at the Justice Department while hoping to avoid a confirmation fight with Senate Democrats.
The nomination of Mukasey, considered an authority on national security issues, could come as early as this morning, the sources said. The White House was already seeking over the weekend to tamp down concern in the conservative legal world about Mukasey's views, assuring allies that he shares Bush's views on executive power and the need for strong action against terrorists.
The Dems are saying they're not going to put up a big fight against Mukasey, because he's got the highly important qualification of not being presumed to be as big a brainless, drooling lackey as Alberto Gonzales.
But it is true is that Mukasey's history -- unlike that of, say, Ted Olson -- has been that of an independent-minded (albeit quite conservative) judge, not a political hack at the center of partisan wars. He has -- at least at times -- displayed an impressive allegiance to the rule of law and constitutional principles over fealty to claims of unlimited presidential power.
In other words, he's someone to whom Democrats might have objected during a normal administration, based on his entrenched conservatism alone, but given that this is the Bush administration, Mukasey looks pretty damn good. Sigh.
Also stop by to see Jeralyn Merritt and Steve Benen, who also notes that Mukasey is a partisan hack who's "playing an active role in Rudy Giuliani’s nutty presidential campaign."
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