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Monday Blogaround
Hey your gay blogaround!
Recommended Reading:
Elle: What the Election Means and OMG (Make sure to read 'em both.)
Kevin: Dear DL Hughley
Renee: Hey KFC—Newsflash: Women Get Hungry
Chris: McCain Supporters
YeomanPip: Bring America Back
Cara: When Self Defense Doesn't Count
Leave your links in comments...
Feminism 101
Our Father Who Art In Heaven by Echidne.
Discussion Question: In what ways has the male-centeredness of the "major guy religions" affected you?
[This is the third in a series created by the goddess Echidne about why she became a feminist, which I'm just mirroring with discussion threads. Echidne's first post was here and her second here. Mine were here and here. If you have trouble loading those pages because of the heavy comments threads, try reading the Disqus pages instead, here and here. The Disqus page for this thread is here.]
Obama Racism/Muslim/Unpatriotic/Scary Black Dude Watch, #103
Nice, Amazon:
In case you missed the problem (or can't see the image), that's an Obama mask listed under the header "terrorist costume."
Via Ali at Think Progress, who also notes: "The Obama terrorist page listed related searches as 'arab costume, terrorist'."
Btw, that mask looks fuck-all like Barack Obama.
[Obama Racism/Muslim/Unpatriotic/Scary Black Dude Watch: Parts One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-One, Twenty-Two, Twenty-Three, Twenty-Four, Twenty-Five, Twenty-Six, Twenty-Seven, Twenty-Eight, Twenty-Nine, Thirty, Thirty-One, Thirty-Two, Thirty-Three, Thirty-Four, Thirty-Five, Thirty-Six, Thirty-Seven, Thirty-Eight, Thirty-Nine, Forty, Forty-One, Forty-Two, Forty-Three, Forty-Four, Forty-Five, Forty-Six, Forty-Seven, Forty-Eight, Forty-Nine, Fifty, Fifty-One, Fifty-Two, Fifty-Three, Fifty-Four, Fifty-Five, Fifty-Six, Fifty-Seven, Fifty-Eight, Fifty-Nine, Sixty, Sixty-One, Sixty-Two, Sixty-Three, Sixty-Four, Sixty-Five, Sixty-Six, Sixty-Seven, Sixty-Eight, Sixty-Nine, Seventy, Seventy-One, Seventy-Two, Seventy-Three, Seventy-Four, Seventy-Five, Seventy-Six, Seventy-Seven, Seventy-Eight, Seventy-Nine, Eighty, Eighty-One, Eighty-Two, Eighty-Three, Eighty-Four, Eighty-Five, Eighty-Six, Eighty-Seven, Eighty-Eight, Eighty-Nine, Ninety, Ninety-One, Ninety-Two, Ninety-Three, Ninety-Four, Ninety-Five, Ninety-Six, Ninety-Seven, Ninety-Eight, Ninety-Nine, 100, 101, 102.]
Blub
Shaker Tobes just emailed me a heads-up that CNN is reporting the body of a child they think is Julian King has been found.
King is the nephew of actress and singer Jennifer Hudson, whose mother and brother were killed over the weekend. King was the subject of the Amber Alert about which Shark-fu posted, below.
I feel so profoundly sad for Julia Balfour, who is Julian's mother and Hudson's sister. I can't even begin to imagine how you deal with losing your son, your mother, and your brother all at once.
News from Shakes Manor
On the Road with Chris Martin and Barack Obama Edition
Yesterday was one of those spectacular autumn days I just live for—blue skies, crisp air, changing leaves in brilliant colors, the ideal temperature for a wool sweater and jeans. Iain and I went out for a drive on one of our favorite country roads, past the local apple orchard, under a canopy done in a fall palette and pierced with sunlight from a high sun.
I rolled down my window and let the cool wind tousle my hair. Iain put Viva la Vida on the stereo.
Liss: Remember your first fall here? You always requested this route when I drove you to work, because you loved how beautiful this road is in the autumn.
Iain: That's right. I couldn't drive yet that fall.
Liss: Yeah, I used to drive you, and every morning you'd be amazed all over again about how lovely this drive is.
Iain: That's right. I canny believe that was six years ago.
Liss: OBAMA SIGN! HUGE OBAMA SIGN!
Part of this excursion was to go Obama sign-spotting, because there are hardly any Obama signs around here—although very likely not because of a lack of support. (There are tons of signs supporting the reelection of our Democratic rep in this blue corner of a formerly very red state.) Every election year, because I am a huge nerd, I like to look for evidence of Democratic support in the week or so before the election, and it makes me unreasonably happy when I find it.
Seeing the gigantic 5'x7' sign reading "HOPE," with the telltale Obama "O," made me nearly jump out of my seat.
Liss: Did you see it?!
Iain: Yes, I saw it.
He tried to sound like he wasn't all excited, but I saw the huge grin playing at the corners of his mouth.
Both of us are scared shitless that Obama will let all of us down; and both of us also have an irrepressible suspicion that he could be great—and a fervent desire that he will be. It's nothing like the staid confidence we had in John Kerry, who would have been perfectly functional and competent. It's a jittery combination of pessimism—rooted in a general cynicism of all politicians and the reasons Obama has given us himself to be apprehensive—and optimism, rooted in an embarrassingly simple-minded wish for goodness and greatness in our leaders and the reasons Obama has given us himself to be enthusiastic.
Liss: It was HUGE!
Iain: He's tootally gooing tae win.
We gave each other a terrorist fist bump of H
PE. The sun, as it has a wont to do on autumn days like yesterday, gleamed brighter for just a moment. "Strawberry Swing" came on. It's such a perfect day…
Liss: If we were in a movie, two characters driving down this road, on this day, feeling just like we do, happy and content and excited about the possibilities held by the future, this is the exact song that would play on the soundtrack.
Iain: Tootally.
Liss: Especially if Zach Braff were the director.
Iain: [laughs] I was just gon tae say that!
Liss: I'd prefer Hal Ashby, but he's been dead 20 years.
We don't ask Maude for much, but we'd sure like it if Obama won next week—and that his presidency gave lots of people the chance to have perfect days of their own. Happy, safe, and hopeful. America needs more of all three, especially after the last eight years.
Failing that, I request Hal Ashby. And a song by Cat Stevens.
Jesus Called Me
I was at home working on some writing yesterday when the phone rang. I checked the Caller ID. It said Area Code 281, and the name was "A AND T". Figuring it was some pollster or something, I answered and was greeted with the bible verse that goes "For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, Jesus Christ, etc." It lasted for only a few seconds, then hung up.
I looked up the area code and found that 281 is Houston, Texas. The only person I know in Houston -- even if it's only over the internet -- is Steve Bates of The Yellow Doggerel Democrat, and if he was going to call me, that's not how he'd do it; he'd be much more original. So I dialed the number back and got -- of course -- a busy signal. I guess someone in Houston is frantically trying to evangelize via robocall. Either that or it's the Jesus-freak version of Prince Albert in a can.
I am sorry I didn't get to talk to a real person. I would have told them that "Frodo gave his finger for you!"
(Cross-posted.)
Urgent! Missing Child - Julian King...
As Melissa mentioned, the nephew of actress Jennifer Hudson (Julian King) is still missing after the murder of her mother and brother in Chicago over the weekend.
Hudson has offered a $100,000 reward.
Please click here and read the Amber Alert information about Julian King.
Julian is a black male, 7 years old, 4 feet 11 inches tall, 130 pounds, with black hair and brown eyes, wearing a brown polo shirt with stripes and khaki pants.
If you see Julian or have any information about this case call 9-1-1 and advise that they have an Amber Alert for him.
Sunday Book Club
D'oh!
Sorry I forgot today. I am a complete doofus.
Let's make this a thread for recommendations about our next book. Should we do fiction next time?
I nominate Middlesex. I will not be offended if no one else agrees, lol.
Are Neiman purchases like Ebay?
I think by now we're all aware about the $150,000 or so the RNC spent for Gov. Palin's wardrobe since the convention. This fact (released by the GOP itself, btw) has caused enormous embarrassment and political damage to the GOP ticket and Gov. Palin personally. So I blundered across an odd defense of the governor here while reading about tensions between McCain and Palin factions. The whole article is worth a read, but the relevant quote is:
"She never even set foot in these stores," the senior Republican said, noting Palin hadn't realized the cost when the clothes were brought to her in her Minnesota hotel room. "It's completely out-of-control operatives," said the close ally outside the campaign. "She has no responsibility for that. It's incredibly frustrating for us and for her."
The question that leaped to my mind is whether or not this is plausible. Wouldn't you want to get fitted for very nice clothing like that? Hey, for $10 off Ebay, I'll take my chances on "XXL" being an accurate size description. For 5 grand, I want a tailor-made fit. After all, weren't they spending the money to make their candidate more presentable? Also, how would the operatives know what style and colors worked best for the governor if she weren't there to participate in the selection? Furthermore, wouldn't you be able to tell from the garment itself (or the NM bags they came in, at least) that it was a very expensive item? To be blunt, it sounds like another weak excuse by Gov. Palin's camp to try to deflect blame elsewhere, and not a very believable excuse at that.
Of course, I am no clothes maven at all, so I am curious about the thoughts of anyone here who is. Is it likely that they'd spend that kind of money without any input in advance from the recipient of the clothes?
The question that leaped to my mind is whether or not this is plausible. Wouldn't you want to get fitted for very nice clothing like that? Hey, for $10 off Ebay, I'll take my chances on "XXL" being an accurate size description. For 5 grand, I want a tailor-made fit. After all, weren't they spending the money to make their candidate more presentable? Also, how would the operatives know what style and colors worked best for the governor if she weren't there to participate in the selection? Furthermore, wouldn't you be able to tell from the garment itself (or the NM bags they came in, at least) that it was a very expensive item? To be blunt, it sounds like another weak excuse by Gov. Palin's camp to try to deflect blame elsewhere, and not a very believable excuse at that.
Of course, I am no clothes maven at all, so I am curious about the thoughts of anyone here who is. Is it likely that they'd spend that kind of money without any input in advance from the recipient of the clothes?
Saturday Rat Terrier Blogging
Rory, Rat Terrier... of the Future! would like to wish you all a Happy Halloween.
"Now get this goddamn thing off me!"
Quote of the Day
"She is a diva. She takes no advice from anyone... Also, she is playing for her own future and sees herself as the next leader of the party. Remember: Divas trust only unto themselves, as they see themselves as the beginning and end of all wisdom."—An anonymous McCain adviser on Sarah Palin "going rogue" by veering off-message and rejecting advice from her campaign-appointed handlers.
The McCain campaign has said a gazillion times that Palin was chosen because she's a maverick, then bought her a $150,000 wardrobe, and now they have the temerity to call her a diva like it's a bad thing?! LOL.
From the moment McCain put Palin on his ticket and made out like it was because he cares oh-so-much for the ladiez, I've been saying we'll see what a great feminist he is when he loses and starts blaming Palin. Uh-huh.
Saturday YouTubery
For the illustrious J.Goff:
My favorite Decemberists songs...
I Voted Today
Early voting began for this election season on Monday, October 20, at twenty locations throughout Miami-Dade County. All the reports were that there were long lines and people waiting three and four hours to vote. Since early voting doesn't require that you vote in your precinct, the twenty stations can accept voters from anywhere in the county. When you get to the clerk's station and give them your registration and ID, they print out a ballot for your precinct.
Because of my work schedule and out of curiosity, I decided to vote early this time. I've been voting since 1972, and although early voting has been around for a while, I was a traditionalist; I felt there was something significant about casting my ballot on the actual Election Day. It's not that I hadn't made up my mind about my choices, but I'm also the kind of person who will wait until Christmas morning to open my presents, too. So throwing tradition to the winds and going along with the idea that this is a "change election," I grabbed my car club ball cap and drove over to my nearest Early Voting site, which is the Coral Reef Library. Early voting was open today from 9:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. It was a nice Florida fall morning; partly cloudy, around 82, and a little humid.
I got there at 9:38 a.m. I had to park in the lot of a medical office two buildings over. The berm in front of the library was packed with people waving signs from every campaign, and after I parked, I had to wade my way through the forest of signs for Barack Obama, John McCain, Raul Martinez, Vote Yes on Amendment 2, Vote No on Amendment 2, Vote for Judge Colodny, and every other county-wide name you could think of, plus some I'd never heard of. The line started at the front of the library, went out onto the sidewalk, then turned north and went 100 yards to the back of the lot, which was marked by a cement wall about five feet tall. The line continued west another 100 yards or so past the open lawn behind the library, then turned south and went another 100 yards back to the street. I got in the line about half-way down the southbound wall behind a couple of ladies with small children in tow. The people in line were young, old, black, white, Hispanic, straight, gay (well, at least one -- me), and appeared to be from every walk of life in both Miami-Dade County and the rest of the country. There were families with small children, teenagers voting for the first time, elderly couples with lawn chairs and books to read, and everywhere were campaign workers passing out literature (I declined each one with a polite "no, thanks," including the sweet little lady passing out the fliers from the Christian Coalition). There were also some people handing out bottles of water, which were gratefully accepted. (No one, however, had the foresight to rent a Porta-Potty. That would have come in very handy.)
After forty-five minutes, the line had moved about 100 yards, and while I had brought along a book to read (Brideshead Revisited), I found myself passively eavesdropping on my fellow queuers; the young couple behind me who switched between Spanish and English were apparently planning to cancel each other's votes; he was for McCain while she was for Obama. The lady in front of me with the small children patiently entertained them, and her son, who was almost three, found a stick so he ran around the lawn doing an amazing imitation of a lawn guy with a Weed-Eater, right down to the sound.
After an hour, I noticed that no one in the line was expressing any sort of impatience. Like me, they seemed to be content to wait their turn, and we noticed that one of life's little mysteries was that the line moved faster when we were in the shade of the live oak trees and slowly when we were in the sun. Some compared it to standing in line at Disney waiting to get to ride on Space Mountain.
Another hour went by. I talked to Boatboy on the phone for a while, and then noticed that while I was talking I had actually moved up to the point where I was standing on the sidewalk in the parking lot. Another fifty yards or so and I would make the turn to the sidewalk in front of the library and actually see the front door. Campaign workers were now passing among us with more water and candy and a couple of candidates from local races such as the Pinecrest City Council were doing some handshaking, well outside the "no campaigning beyond this point" line.
Poll workers were now visible, counting us out and moving us up in the line in small groups. The election officials announced that anyone in the line at 1:00 p.m. would be allowed to vote. Finally, at 1:10 I was ushered into the library and the relief of the air conditioning, and I handed one of the clerks at the seven or eight computer terminals my registration and picture ID, got my customized ballot, and was escorted to one of the twenty or so privacy booths to fill out the two pages of my ballot, making sure to mark both sides, and making sure to fill in the little "bubble" mark completely, just like doing the answer sheet on an SAT. I was then taken to a scanner where I inserted the ballot pages and watched as the optical scanner read and tallied my vote. The nice little man handed my my "I VOTED TODAY!" sticker, and at 1:30 p.m., approximately three hours and fifty minutes after arriving, I was done.
As I walked out of the library and back to the parking lot, I noticed that the line still stretched around the building, and standing where I had stood four hours before was a man in a baseball cap reading a book, waiting in line to vote.
(Cross-posted from Bark Bark Woof Woof.)
Jennifer Hudson's Mother and Brother Killed
Last night, the mother and brother of Oscar-winning actress and singer Jennifer Hudson were murdered in Chicago. An Amber Alert has been issued for her 7-year-old nephew, Julian King, son of her sister Julia.
Early reports suggested that Julia's estranged husband William Balfour was the responsible party and may have abducted Julian, but I just saw the superintendent of Chicago police Jody Weis being interviewed on CNN, and he said that Balfour is talking to police and is just a "person of interest," not a suspect; the police wanted to speak to him because they thought Julian may have been taken in Balfour's vehicle. Weis also said the FBI has been called in as a precautionary measure because Chicago is on the Indiana border, though they don't currently have any evidence that Julian was taken across state lines.
I just feel so sad for Jennifer. I'm sure it doesn't make a damn bit of difference to her, or how much this hurts, but it just seems extra horrible from an outside perspective that this happens while she's on top of the world—a #1 single, a hit record, a new movie, a recent engagement. Fuck. It's so brutally unfair.
My heart is breaking for her—and I hope they find that little boy soon.
Ladies, They're Onto Us
Geniuses at the National Review Online have figured out what's behind women's criticisms of Sarah Palin: "the collective grief, shame, and guilt from personal involvement in the abortion of an unborn child."
Hmm. I've never had an abortion, never performed an abortion, never accompanied a friend or relative to get an abortion, never even spoken to a friend or relative about an abortion, don't even know if any of my friends or relatives have ever had an abortion (though I'm pretty sure all of them know damn well I wouldn't judge them if they had).
So what's my excuse?
The Virtual Pub Is Open
TFIF, Shakers! What's your poison?
"Why shouldn't I work for the N.S.A.? That's a tough one, but I'll take a shot. Say I'm working at N.S.A. Somebody puts a code on my desk, something nobody else can break. Maybe I take a shot at it and maybe I break it. And I'm real happy with myself, 'cause I did my job well. But maybe that code was the location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East. Once they have that location, they bomb the village where the rebels were hiding and fifteen hundred people I never met, never had a no problem with get killed. Now the politicians are sayin', "Oh, Send in the marines to secure the area" 'cause they don't give a shit. It won't be their kid over there, gettin' shot. Just like it wasn't them when their number got called, 'cause they were pullin' a tour in the National Guard. It'll be some kid from Southie takin' shrapnel in the ass. And he comes back to find that the plant he used to work at got exported to the country he just got back from. And the guy who put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job, 'cause he'll work for fifteen cents a day and no bathroom breaks. Meanwhile he realizes the only reason he was over there in the first place was so we could install a government that would sell us oil at a good price. And of course the oil companies used the skirmish over there to scare up domestic oil prices. A cute little ancillary benefit for them, but it ain't helping my buddy at two-fifty a gallon. And they're takin' their sweet time bringin' the oil back of course, and maybe even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes to drink martinis and fuckin' play slalom with the icebergs, and it ain't too long 'til he hits one, spills the oil and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic. So now my buddy's out of work and he can't afford to drive, so he's got to walk to the fuckin' job interviews, which sucks 'cause the shrapnel in his ass is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids. And meanwhile he's starvin' 'cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat the only blue plate special they're servin' is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State. So what did I think? I'm holdin' out for somethin' better. I figure fuck it, while I'm at it why not just shoot my buddy, take his job, give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? I could be elected president."—Good Will Hunting
Have I mentioned recently that I love Matt Damon?
Matt Damon's children were born into privilege, but they'll learn about those less fortunate, the actor vows.And if talking about using his privilege to give his three daughters the gift of experiencing the world wholly wasn't enough to make me blub:
"It's a hard thing to explain to a kid," Damon said at San Francisco fund raiser for the OneXOne children's charity Thursday. … "The way you have to parent them is to show them the world. Explaining the world can only go so far," he said. "You can read about devastation every morning – it's on the front page of the newspaper – but when you actually go there and see it, you realize this isn't something you can turn the page on."
Damon is the sole male in [their household]. His wife, Luciana, gave birth to their daughter, Gia, over the summer. She joined big sisters Isabella, 2, and Alexia, 10.That might not seem like a special sort of comment, until one stops to consider how many times a guy asked the same question will take the opportunity to make a joke about it, usually involving some reference to estrogen or menstrual cycles.
"It's great," Damon said about being outnumbered at home. "It is really great."
Previous Damon-lovin' here, here, here, here, and here.
