Shakesville

FlashForward

Is anyone else watching FlashForward, the new ABC series that was fashioned from leftover parts of Lost and the remnants of Joseph Fiennes' unremarkable career?

Well, I certainly hope so—because I want to talk about it! The thing is: I almost love this show...

[Spoiler warning! Spoilers below!]

Almost, but not quite. I love Courtney B. Vance and John Cho and Sonya Walger. I love the premise and the pacing so far. But I can't love the show because I HATE JOSEPH FIENNES AND HIS TERRIBLE AMERICAN ACCENT AND HIS DREADFUL EYEBROW ACTING! And the problem is that he's the main character. And he keeps getting in the way of my liking the show.

And then there's this other problem: The writers don't seem to understand how the time-space continuum works. See, if it's 10:00 in LA, that means it's after 10:00 in about 3/4 of the country, which means that most of the country is going to be asleep, especially kids, so this whole idea that Americans are feverishly sharing stories of what they saw themselves doing during the flashforward to 10:00pm Pacific time, no less that kids are "playing flashforward" on playgrounds, is just absurd.

Also: If it's 3am Pacific time, and Agent John Cho is talking to some lady in what appears to be an Asian or European city, it's not going to be nighttime where she is.

So that bugs me. As does the idea that Agent Token Lady is getting an ultrasound at 10:00 at time. On what planet is that happening?

Suspension of disbelief I can do, but that stuff just seems like lazy mistakes.

Anyone else got any love or hate or a little of each for FlashForward?

Quote of the Day

"There's plenty I don't understand about myself, but nothing nags. Paradoxically, the deeper I got into neuropsychology the less interested I became in the details of my own inner workings. I'm not sure why. It certainly is not because I arrived at any great insight or understanding. I still experience the almost visceral sense of puzzlement over matters of brain, mind and selfhood that first drew me to the field. What happened, I think, was a shift – let's imagine a neural switch somewhere in the frontolimbic circuitry – from one preoccupying question, What am I? to another, What should I do? It left me less inclined to bother about self-understanding than to consider the value of things, moral and aesthetic. How best to live? But here's a nagging thought: might those two preoccupying questions turn out to be one and the same, like the evening star and the morning star?"—Dr. Paul Broks, a clinical neuropsychologist at the University of Plymouth, one of a group of prominent psychologists asked by the British Psychological Society's Research Digest to "look inwards and share, in 150 words, one nagging thing they still don't understand about themselves." [Via.]

Daily Kitteh

Is there a cat in there?

National Equality March

The National Equality March is in DC this weekend, on the 11th.

I know there are some Shakers in the DC area, and some who may be traveling to DC for the event, so I figured I'd open a thread, in case anyone wanted to organize a Shaker meet-up.

A Correction on "How to Apologize: An Example From Life"

I have a minor correction to make to a post I made last week, How to Apologize: An Example From Life.

The show's Technical Director reached me at Livejournal to let me know (emphasis mine):

I read your blog pointing back at Elizabeth's and while I am not part of the discussion (I couldn't agree more with Elizabeth and she's much better with words than I am) I realized in reading your post there were some minor details that appear to be a bit mixed up in your understanding. There were two noticeably black-appearing POC in the show, both female, one in the chorus and one as the evil fairy. There are other people who may or may not identify or be identified as POC for their Hispanic ethnicity who were also in the show two of which had more major roles (one the love interest and one the stable boy who was in love with the lead).

In the grand scheme of the healthy discussion bits, it's not all that important, but I thought you might appreciate the more accurate information.

And she was right - I do appreciate it, and I offer my apologies for my errors to the good folks at Theatre@First for being kind enough to point them out to me.

Today's Edition of "Conniving and Sinister"

Inspired by an idea of Deeky's.
Strips One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42. In which Liss reimagines the long-running comic "Frank & Ernest," about two old straight white guys "telling it like it is," as a fat feminist white woman and a biracial queerbait telling it like it actually is from their perspectives. Hilarity ensues.

Speech Impediments Are Hilarious

To Republican surrogates:

Few Virginians would describe Creigh Deeds as a great speaker. The Democratic candidate for governor frequently fumbles his words in press conferences and on debate stages. The Washington Post has described him as "stammering."

Now a top surrogate for Republican candidate Bob McDonnell is drawing some unwanted attention for outright mocking the Democrat's halting manner of speech.

..."We need people who can communicate," [Sheila Johnson, the co-founder of BET and a high-profile African-American McDonnell backer] said at the event, as McDonnell stood by in the audience. "And Bob McDonnell can communicate."

Johnson then said other politicians she talks to can't communicate, "especially his op-op-op-op-opponent."

The McDonnell campaign had no comment.

Deeds spokesman Mo Elleithee said: "Creigh's the first person to admit that he's not the smoothest talker and that he sometimes stumbles over his words. But at least you know that what's he's saying is authentic, honest and true." Oh, SNAP!

You can donate to the Deeds campaign here.

[H/T to Shaker Azzy.]

Monday Blogaround

The blogaround brought to you by Shaxco, celebrating five years of bringing you stuff.

Recommended Reading:

Resistane: Because White People Are the Fairest

Andy: Student Defends Kevin Jennings as Right-Wing Attacks Continue

Joe.My.God.: Obama to Speak at HRC Dinner on Eve of National Equality March

RVCBard: Stuff White People Do: Question Non-White Knowledge and Authority

Esme: Pink Problems

Angry Asian Man: Cheng Ho Leads Harvard to Victory

Leave your links in comments...

This is a real thing in the world.

Voiceover: The action's real, in an all-new real-life series. Steven Seagal: Lawman.

[bunch of urgent yelling, like "Get him! Get him!" and "Calm down!" over montage of random police shit]

Voiceover: It all began twenty years ago, when Seagal, a world-renowned seventh-degree aikido expert, was shooting a movie in Jefferson Parish. The sheriff asked him to teach his men some self-defense and weapons skills. The training was so successful, Segal was deputized. And for twenty years, between films, he's been serving as a full-fledged member of the force.

Seagal: Well, the show is real. I mean, it's—this is not a joke.

[bunch of urgent yelling, like "Get out! Get out!" and "That's what I'm talkin' about!" over montage of random police shit]

Seagal: This is real police officers down here in life-and-death situations. Worst-case scenario: Many of them are forced to actually defend themselves. Every day.

Voiceover: No scripts. No stunt doubles. No second chances. Steven Seagal: Lawman.

Some Random Voice: It's not a job—it's an adventure!

The best part is certainly "Well, the show is real. This is not a joke." Okay, I'm sold! But the next best part is the voiceover about it being unscripted over footage that looks totally scripted, lol. December can't come soon enough.

I bet the commercial breaks are just going to be two-minute block adverts for Steven Seagal's Lightning Bolt.

Rape Is Hilarious, Part 43

Or: "I Can't Believe the SHIT I've Got to Sit Through Just to See Lady GaGa."

[Trigger warning.]

So, Saturday night, we're watching SNL, because I weirdly love Lady GaGa (and one day hope to have a beer with her and explain to her what feminism actually is so she can understand she is a feminist; btw, her second performance was amazing). Anyway, we're only half paying attention, because: A. It's SNL; and B. It's SNL hosted by megadouche Ryan Reynolds; and even only half paying attention, we notice that the entire show (which is viewable here, or individual skits here) is like a giant rapejokefest.

There was a long skit of a 1981 episode of the Family Feud pitting the Osmonds against the Phillips clan, with high-larious! jokes like John Phillips offering "Secrets!" as his answer to "Things You Keep for a Long Time," and an advert for Celebrity Press Your Luck with Roman Polanski.

There was also a skit of a Court TV show called "So You Committed a Crime...and You Think You Can Dance?" in which convicts were paired with professional dancers for a competition reality show. And, naturally, the first convict was a sex offender who was being creepy with his dance partner. Ha ha! The threat of rape is so damn funny, amirite?!

The SNL Digital Short featured Andy Samburg doing a number about throwing things on the ground, which was funny as hell—until the last part where he is thrown on the ground and repeatedly tasered. But not just anywhere: He is repeatedly tasered in the asshole. By Ryan Reynolds and Elijah Wood. Who both apparently thought that was hilarious.

And during the Weekend Update, Darrell Hammond did a bit as Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger, saying that Roman Polanski should not be afforded special dispensation just because he's famous. Now, of course, Schwarzenegger himself has been accused of sexual harassment and being a, ahem, "womanizer," especially back in the 1970s, which is referenced in the skit with this side-splitting commentary:

I was around in the seventies. I also had the sex with the ladies. There was the grabbing and the groping of the hams and the glutes and all of these body parts. These were not thirteen-year-old girls! And I did not give these ladies the champagne or the quaaludes! I did not have to! I would just flex my muscles! [flexes right arm] This was my champagne! [flexes left arm] This was my quaaludes!

Oh my aching sides.

That's just what I noticed/recall.

SNL is, on any given week, rife with misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, racism, fat hatred, disablism, and other bigotries, about all of which I've written before. But I've never seen an episode so egregiously rapetastic.

Contact NBC and ask them why they support the minimization of the severity of rape and mockery of rape victims. And before anyone says, "Well, SNL sucks, whaddaya expect?" let me go ahead and give you a preemptive answer: I expect more.

[Rape is Hilarious: 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.]

Open Thread on Healthcare

Los Angeles Times—Obama quietly tries to shore up Senate support for public option:

Despite months of outward ambivalence about creating a government health insurance plan, the Obama White House has launched a behind-the-scenes campaign to get divided Senate Democrats to take up some version of the idea for a final vote in the coming weeks.

President Obama has cited a preference for the so-called public option. But faced with intense criticism over the summer, he strategically expressed openness to health cooperatives and other ways to offer consumers potentially more affordable alternatives to private health plans.

In the last week, however, senior administration officials have been holding private meetings almost daily at the Capitol with senior Democratic staff to discuss ways to include a version of the public plan in the healthcare bill that Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid (D-Nev.) plans to bring to the Senate floor this month.

The Hill—Reid, Baucus ready to split on public option as vote nears: "Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid (D-Nev.) and Finance Committee Chairman Max Baucus (D-Mont.), once in polite disagreement over the idea of a public option component in healthcare legislation, are approaching a breaking point over the issue. Reid and Baucus have staked out opposing positions on the central question of a government role in health reform — Reid has consistently stood in favor, but Baucus has consistently said the idea doesn’t have enough Senate support."

WaPo—Democrats Wyden, Rockefeller Withhold Support of Panel's Bill:

At least two Democrats on the Senate Finance Committee have refused to pledge support for the health-care reform bill scheduled for a vote this week, underscoring the hard work ahead for President Obama as he tries to enact the most ambitious domestic policy legislation in more than a generation.

Although Chairman Max Baucus (D-Mont.) said he has the votes to pass the 10-year, $900 billion bill out of the committee, Sens. Ron Wyden (D-Ore.) and John D. Rockefeller IV (D-W.Va.) remained undecided Sunday. If all 10 Republicans on the panel vote no, two Democratic defections would be enough to send Baucus and the Obama White House scrambling to regroup.

"More needs to be done to hold insurance companies accountable, to hold premiums down for the American people," Wyden said in an interview Sunday. "I want to continue these discussions."

And for the comic relief...

WaPo—The Conservative Case for Reform by Bobby Jindal: "Memo to Washington: The debate on health care has moved on. Democratic plans for a government takeover are passé. The people don't want it."

Discuss.

Five

Five years ago today, young bones groaned and Shakesville was born.

It was originally christened as Shakespeare's Sister, which was not an allusion to delusions of grandeur, but the name of one of my favorite Smiths' songs, which contains a line that stuck me—and strikes me still—as being beautifully apposite to my feelings about blogging: "I thought that if you had / An acoustic guitar / Then it meant that you were / A protest singer." Whatever clever old Mozza actually intended with that lyric, it suggests to me something about authenticity; having the accessories and tools of someone who does something meaningful doesn't make you someone who does something meaningful. Calling this blog Shakespeare's Sister was meant to remind me, always, that I started it to try to make some kind of difference in this world and that only what I put into it could make it so.

And then there was the Virginia Woolf essay, "A Room of One's Own," from whence Mozza nicked the name; I borrowed it, too, because I am the heir of all the Shakespeare's Sisters before me, who carved out rooms of their own, tiny pieces of space and time, in which they formed the habit of freedom and mustered the courage to write exactly what they thought. I took up their legacy with breathless gratitude and compelling need, and I created a room of my own, built of 1s and 0s, where I try to honor them, as best I can.

After other writers joined me in this space, and a community started to grow up around this blog, Shakespeare's Sister, which was also my handle when I started in anonymity, seemed too personal somehow, and so we became Shakesville.

When I first started the blog, I never imagined that it would grow into such an awesome (in the original meaning) and complex and vibrant community. What has emerged in this space absolutely floors me.

I've never believed that blogs will change the world, but I do believe most fervently that even a single blog has the capacity to change the world for individual people in big and small ways, can turn people on to and connect them with a global community, offer a much-needed laugh on a bad day, provide support and validation from like-minded people, open its readers' minds to new ideas and persuade them to let go of prejudices and give them a new way of understanding and loving themselves. I do believe in expecting more and being engaged and striving for safe spaces and teaspoons. I believe most passionately in teaspoons. I'm happy and grateful to have found people who believe in them, too.

I am a better person than I was five years ago. I know more about myself, both the good things and the things that need changing. I've made great friends and had great teachers. I've learned more in this space than I ever could have imagined, and this is, by far, the toughest job I've ever had, and the most rewarding. I am forever changed because of Shakesville, and the people who visit or come to stay.

The Shakers are a great lot. That's about the long and the short of it. Thank you, everyone.

I'm going to continue to try to make this a space you enjoy visiting. I'm going to fuck up and disappoint you and piss you off once in a while, but I'll endeavor to balance that with some good stuff, too. I am, still, as I was the day I started, just a grrl with a metaphorical guitar who knows it takes more to be a folk singer, fumbling to find her place and her voice. I don't know what the hell I'm doing most of the time, so we're all pretty lucky when it seems like I do.

Thanks to the other contributors, for everything you put on the page and everything you do for me behind the scenes.

And thanks to my beloved Iain, who first suggested I start this blog, and who makes Shakesville possible in every conceivable way.

Onward...

Open Thread

Hosted by Georgia O'Keeffe's An Orchid, 1941.

Two-Minute Nostalgia Sublime

I Spy

Running for the Cure

This was my Sunday: running for the cure (to breast cancer, particularly in this case; that link leads to a page where you can donate, if you feel like doing so, and my thanks if you do). the_pixie_mouse and I turned out for the local adjunct to this national event, a 5k run/walk along the streets and later the riverside trail. I'm on the left, the_pixie_mouse to the right. This was taken in Tim Horton's, of course, because where else would a Canadian go on their way to or from an event like this?

Being someone who uses a cane, I chose the walk side, while she went for a run. We were sure not alone in being there, though!
This is Your Humble Narrator's back half, showing the name of one of the people for whom I walked today: wilfulcait (her LiveJournal name), a woman who shared a birth year and a name with me, who died a little over two years ago after the cancer overcame her fightfulness.

She's far from the only one: there's my friend's mom (who's still fighting), and my ex's mother (in remission), and my Evil Twin (still fighting), and my former teammate (in remission), and too many others. I think what affected me most on the day, and I did kinda cry a few times about it, was the sheer number of people there - and the awful truth of how many different names they wore on their bodies - mothers, sisters, colleagues, teammates, so many, many women. It was wonderful to see so many people out, but it was also grueling to realize what it meant about the toll this disease takes.

It took me well over an hour to get through the course, but I wasn't exactly going for speed - honestly, just finishing the last km was hard, as my hips and S-I joint and back were all competing to see who could hurt more. Thankfully, my knees took it well, with the second half of the course on a dirt trail by the river, through a lovely semi-wild area full of trees and birds and bushes.

We went early on to get registered, then came back to my apartment to rest for an hour before heading back to the park for the start. When we got there the first time, I realized that everyone was wearing pink of some sort, so when we went home, I got my pink Pooh pyjamas, and I did the walk in them:

This was about half a kilometre into the walk, I stopped for a bit of water, and looked back on a river of people (not sure how this one got weirdly compressed, but I'm running out of body-vertical time here).

This is a shot of the trail as we walked along it. The river is to the right, out of the frame, because of the thick belt of trees.

And one I took of the river, during another brief water stop, about 4km through the course.

Sunday Open Thread

Hosted by Frank.

Saturday Open Thread

Hosted by astronauts.

The Virtual Pub Is Open

Belly up to the bar,
and name your poison!

Let's make it a hot
one tonight, Shakers!

Izzard Blogging: Fruit

[Full transcript below.]

Now, um… Oh, yes! And supermarkets, yeeeees… As soon as you go in—have you noticed?—they do psychological tricks on us. As soon as you go in, you hit fresh fruit and veg. You noticed that? Every single time! You go to France, Germany—fresh fruit and veg. And it's psychological, you go in, thinking, "This is a fresh shop! Everything here is fresh! I will do well here…"

It is—think about it! You never go in to the toilet paper section, with the loo brushes and the squeezy [mimes cleaning toilet—'cause then you go, "This is a poo shop! Everything here is made of poo! I'm not shopping here; I'm—I'm going to Azerbaijan!" [mimes walking away, then stops and freezes in a pose; walks back to center-stage] I knew I didn't need to mime it any further; you got the drift.

Yeah, so, uh… And all these fruits have got vitamins—vitamin A, of course, which is good for [mumbles deliberately inaudibly]. Vitamin B, which we all know is very good for [mumbles deliberately inaudibly]. Vitamin C is good for scurvy, isn't it? Yeeeees! There's a lot of scurvy around these days. People phone in [mimes using telephone], "Can't come in to work; I've got scurvy, yeeees… Yeah, well, I live on a houseboat and, uh… Yeah, frothing at the mouth, yeah, the old Captain Cook problem there." Um, there's vitamin D, which again is good for [mumbles deliberately inaudibly]. Vitamin E, which is good for skin—and then that's it, no more vitamins. The whole vitamin-naming committee are going, "Ladies and gentlemen, vitamin F. Suggestions? Oh, fuck it! [throws up hands] I'm off down the boozer. Azerbaijan."

And all these people made food, like Granny Smith. Granny Smith made apples. Who was this woman, Granny Smith? "Ah, 'ello, my name is Mrs. Smith—I've made apples out of bread, a dripping, a bit of green paint, and corrugated iron."

"No, these are horrible apples, Mrs. Smith. Go away, Mrs. Smith! Go away until your daughter has a baby."

"Ohhhhh." [mimes walking away] "Shag, daughter, shag! It's a marketing idea, shag for babies!" [mimes running back] "My daughter's had a baby—I'm Granny Smith now!"

"Come in, Granny Smith! You're a wonderful idea, you! Come in with your shiny apples."

"Brought a friend with me—I brought Mr. Delicious. He's got apples—Gold Delicious."

"Come in, Gold."

"King Edward, abdicated the throne, took up potato-making, there we go… Mrs. Simpson, jewelry… And, uh, and there's Hitler as well. They used to hang out together. And Jeff Broccoli, of the Broccoli family." Well, there's only about three, isn't there? [laughs]

Apples are great; apples are user-friendly—just big, hearty. You grab 'em, and you go "Arr, arr, arr, arr, arr, arr, arr!" [mimes chomping on the apple] and then you start to eat them, and—always do the dog impression first!—and when you get into, when you get close to the pips in the middle, you go, "Ewweeargh!" [mimes throwing apple core away] and you throw it away, in case you swallowed a pip and a tree comes out of your head. We know this to be true.

And oranges! There's a big war—don't know if you know about this—but there's this sort of internal war going on between the big, old-fashioned oranges, big, fuckoff, [harrumphing fascist sounds] kind of [harrumphing fascist sounds] Stalinist, big, fuckoff [big roundy sounds] kind of oranges, and the new baby Satsuma, Manolo, kumquat, benunda duddah, chunchuh, MG [makes sports car sounds] Satsumari, kind of [makes zippy sexy noises] waheyyy! woooheyyy!

Big fight going on there, 'cuz to eat a Satsuma, it's a piece of piss—you just go [mimes opening the fruit, taking a piece, and popping it in his mouth] floomp and then floomp aaaaand floomp. And you break off these one by one, don't you? And you've got so much of it, and if there's people in the room, you go [mimes offering pieces], "Oh, go on, go on!" It's like a very cheap round, isn't it? "Go on, Satsuma for everyone!" And if you're that other person in the room, you go, "No, no—well, all right, yeah!" [mimes accepting piece] "Thank you very much."

Yeah. So Satsumas are great; eating 'em's a piece of piss, but you can't do it with an orange. You go, "You want a bit of orange? Have you got—I've got—fucking 'ell!" [mimes hammering on an orange] "Can't fucking…get in…" 'Cuz inside an orange—it's like the film Das Boot in there! With Jürgen Prochnow going [puts on German accent]: "Don't let them get in to the orange! It's most important! Or the juice will get out, and it will not be good. They're breaking in with finger depth charges! Let the peel come off only in small chunks!"

[mimes peeling orange with peel coming off only in small chunks] "Shit! Jesus Christ!"

[as Prochnov] "They're breaking in! Push all the pips into bits they wouldn't expect! That'll do!" [mimes pushing seeds around]

'Cuz it is—there's never a chance of someone eating an orange, going [mimes chatting someone up], "Yeah yeah!" [mimes choking on the seed and juice running all down face; then mimes person being chatted up looking impressed] "You're very nice…" [laughs] There's not a chance of someone who speaks like that anyway.

So oranges—oranges can fuck off, that's what I say! And pears can fuck off too! 'Cuz they're gorgeous little beasts, but they're ripe for half an hour—and you're never there! They're like a rock, or they're mush! In the supermarket, people are hammering in nails [mimes hammering]: "We're just putting these shelves up, mate, then you can have the pear."

Really, 'cuz you do do that squeezy-squeezy thing on fruit, where you go, "Ohhhh! Squeezy, ohhhh…" [mimes squeezing fruit] It's a test- squeezy thing, that you've seen French chefs do on telly. "Ohhhh! Squeezy, ohhhh…" But I have no frame of reference, so I'm going, "Oh… Is that good? I'm squeezing it about this much—is that a good squeezy?" It such an expert thing, isn't it? They seem to go [mimes squeezing fruit without looking]; "This one!" They don't even look at it, they just… Sometimes they go [mimes squeezing fruit until it bursts] "Oh, shit! No, it's got a hole in it, I'm not really…" Or just put it on the end of a broom. "Yeah…it's the manager!"

Yeah, so fuck pears. But pears are like a rock, so you think, "I'll take them home and they'll ripen up," but you put them in a bowl at home, and they sit there going [mimes steadfast solidness], "No! No! Don't ripen yet! Don't ripen yet! Wait 'til he goes out of the room! Ripen now now now!!!" [mimes pears ripening and then instantly spoiling] And you come back in, and you go, "I'll just have one of these…" [mimes touching a spoiled pear] "Hey, these pears are dead! These are dead pears, man. Hey, what happened, guys?" They're all going… [laughs like Muttley]

And then there's banana skins as well. There's bananas and their skins; there's all this sort of slipping on a banana skin and hilarity that's been out and around for many years. Now I don't know about you, but I've never actually, in my life, ever seen anyone actually slip on a banana skin in reality. I've never seen documentary footage of anyone slipping on a banana skin; I've heard the stories—oh, yes! People have told me stories! The Nazis did propaganda!

So it's all those fruits there, and we've got South African fruit we can have now, without going, "Oh, the guilt!" And, um, and star fruit, which are from Mars! So it's great. So you've got all this fruit, and you get a selection, you take it home, you arrange it in a bowl…and then you watch it rot! You never eat it, really. Occasionally, you go up to it, and go [mimes looking at fruit bowl], "Ehhhhhh, I don't think I will." [mimes walking away] "Ooh, Mars bar, there we go!" [mimes eating bar] "Oh, I'm full-up now!" And they all rot from the bottom up, you go [mimes picking up various fruit and looking at the rotty bottoms, "Eww, eugh, ugh, yeargh." Except for the oranges, that sit in the back going, "Nope!" [blows up cheeks in what is apparently an imitation of an orange] You chuck all the rest away, and the oranges are sitting there, going [repeats imitation]—for months it sits there! [repeats imitation; waves up at person looking into bowl] In a kind of Stalinist kind of way. So, yeah.

And there's also labels in supermarkets; you've got labels on the food stuffs now, so you can tell—it says: "Four grams of protein," you go, "Ahhhhh. Is that good?" Is that far too little protein? Is it you're gonna die of protein shortage, or you're gonna overdose on it? "Naught-point-naught two milligrams of sodium." Sodium explodes in water. Do I need 0.02 milligrams of that? Calcium—can you overdose on calcium? Can you go [grins hugely, miming having gigantic teeth, and sticks out arms, as if to have rigid bones]?

"Well, I think there's too much calcium in your diet."

"Yes, that's what I thought."

"Are you eating a lot of chalk salad?"

"Yeah…"

Holy See Better Get the PR Dept. on the Horn

[Trigger warning.]

Back in August, Bishop Raymond Lahey of Nova Scotia oversaw

a multi-million dollar settlement over child sex abuse allegations by priests in the diocese dating back to the 1950s.

At the time, he apologised to the victims and their families on behalf of the Roman Catholic Church, saying he hoped "to never again have to deal with such reprehensible behaviour".

I can only imagine the level of Lahey's surprise when he found out he had to once again deal with such reprehensible behavior, this time on his own laptop.

Prosecutors say the charges of importing and possessing child pornography stem from allegedly pornographic images found during a random search of Bishop Lahey's laptop by border agents as he returned from a trip abroad.

Following the Church's recent brilliant statement on sex abuse, I can't wait for their press release on this one.