Have I Mentioned Lately...

...that I don't like Jay Leno and think he's a bully? Hmm, I think I might have. Well, let me mention it one more time: Jay Leno is a contemptible bully.

Dave Letterman teed off on Jay Leno earlier this week in relation to the NBC 'Tonight' mess, and now Leno is fighting back directly at his nemesis -- only this time, it's personal instead of business. While Letterman generally kept his Leno insults showbiz-related, Leno fired off a marriage joke on Wednesday night that will surely hit close to home -- literally -- for Letterman, who last year admitted to having extramarital affairs.

During his monologue, Leno admitted that "Letterman has been hammering me every night," addressing the attacks to his crowd and band leader Kevin Eubanks. Leno continued, asking Eubanks: "Hey Kev, you know the best way to get Letterman to ignore you? Marry him. He will not bother you. He won't look you in the eye."
This joke shows you exactly what kind of misogynist asshole Leno is. He takes a swipe at Letterman's marriage that, in trying to hit Letterman, sprays collateral buckshot all over Regina Lasko, who is married to Letterman. And that's not a bug of the joke; it's a feature. Leno's the kind of nasty bully who will take aim at another guy in a way that hits his wife, too.

It's a construction that treats Lasko like Letterman's property, which is why this jibe has the same cowardly feel as a guy who keys another guy's car in the dark parking lot of a bar, instead of taking a swing at him.

I have no love for David Letterman, but that is some low-ass shit, right there.

Open Wide...

This is Very Bad News.

Very bad news (emphases mine):

The Supreme Court has given big business, unions and nonprofits more power to spend freely in federal elections, a major turnaround that threatens a century of government efforts to regulate the power of corporations to bankroll American politics.

In a 5-4 ruling, the court's conservative majority crafted a narrow overhaul of federal campaign spending Thursday that could have an immediate effect on next year's congressional midterm elections.

"Our nation's speech dynamic is changing, and informative voices should not have to circumvent onerous restrictions to exercise their First Amendment rights," Justice Anthony Kennedy wrote for the majority.

The conservative-led opinion radically alters the election calculus, offering greater spending flexibility for a broader range of for-profit and nonprofit groups seeking a voice in the crowded national political debate.

In dissent, Justice John Paul Stevens wrote, "In a democratic society, the long-standing consensus on the need to limit corporate campaign spending should outweigh the wooden applications of judge-made rules."
This decision absolutely makes my blood run cold. It is not hyperbole to say this decision is paving the way for America to become a fully-fledged corporatocracy, which, depending on your perspective, is a sibling to fascism or a version of it.

When we look at the two major parties and see that there is so little difference between them that a stream of sunlight can barely eke through, when we see the GOP gleefully and unapologetically doing the business of corporations, watch with horror Democrats enthusiastically voting for massive hand-outs to Big Pharma and funding the adventures of the military-industrial complex and turning healthcare reform into a giant gift to the insurance industry and approaching environmental issues with the sort of shrugging trepidation that makes Big Energy grin, that is because the majority of Congress is already held in the thrall of corporate donors.

That was their power before the Supreme Court further eased restrictions on corporate campaign spending.

And, yes, unions and progressive non-profits are getting the same benefit, but I don't guess I need to note that unions and progressive non-profits aren't flush with cash the way corporations are. Even without government bail-outs.

This decision further diminishes any voice that isn't backed with a fuckload of money.

Someday, we may look back on this day and realize it was the day our democracy died.

Open Wide...

Edwards Confirms What We Already Knew

Under the subject header "Good Christian," and with the attached note, "I hope the corrupting influence of your salty language isn't to blame for this," Iain emailed me about John Edwards finally admitting he fathered a child with a woman other than his wife:

In a written statement provided exclusively to NBC News, the former North Carolina senator and Democratic presidential candidate says he's taking responsibility for the child, Frances Quinn Hunter:

"I am Quinn's father. I will do everything in my power to provide her with the love and support she deserves. I have been able to spend time with her during the past year and trust that future efforts to show her the love and affection she deserves can be done privately and in peace.

It was wrong for me ever to deny she was my daughter and hopefully one day, when she understands, she will forgive me. I have been providing financial support for Quinn and have reached an agreement with her mother to continue providing support in the future.

To all those I have disappointed and hurt these words will never be enough, but I am truly sorry."
To quote Deeky, "this is the same douchenozzle who had the temerity to lecture Liss on ethics." When I recall that phone call, in which Edwards explained to me how my Big Girl Language about religious misogyny and homophobia (used totally before I was in his employ and totally unrelated to the campaign) wasn't the sort of thing that he would say and wasn't appropriate and blah blah blah, my teeth clench together so hard I feel like I may spontaneously generate a new universe between my molars.

What. A. Wanker.

Open Wide...

Open Thread


Hosted by a Dalek cutaway.

Open Wide...

Two-Minute Nostalgia Sublime



Joan Armatrading: "Drop The Pilot"

Open Wide...

Question of the Day

Who is your least favorite comedian?

There are a lot of comedians I absolutely cannot stand, about many of whom I've written before (Dane Cook, Jeff Dunham, etc.), but for his unique combination of being totes horrible and having such a massive platform, I've got to cast my vote for Jay Leno.

HORRIBLE!

Open Wide...

The Wanker King (Literally)

In case you'd forgotten in the last two seconds that John Mayer is a huge dipshit who emits a constant stream of fuckery from his squalid mouth, he's Rolling Stone's latest coverboy, and there's plenty in the accompanying article to recharge the pistons of contempt. I've seen a bunch of excerpts 'round the internetz today, and there are some real gems—like his search for "the Joshua Tree of vaginas" and how he'll "be happy when I close out this life-partner thing. It's been a long time since I've felt attached. Think of how much mental capacity I'm using to meet the right person so I can stop giving a fuck about it."—but nothing is quite as priceless as his treatise on masturbation:

I am the new generation of masturbator. I've seen it all. Before I make coffee, I've seen more butt holes than a proctologist does in a week. I mean, I have masturbated myself out of serious problems in my life. The phone doesn't pick up because I'm masturbating. And I have excused myself at the oddest times so as to not make mistakes. If Tiger Woods only knew when to jerk off. It has a true market value, like gold bullion. First of all, I don't jerk off because I'm horny. I'm sort of half-chick. It's like District 9. I can fire alien weapons. I can insert a tampon. No, I do it because I want to take a brain bath. It's like a hot whirlpool for my brain, in a brain space that is 100 percent agreeable with itself.
Brilliant. All hail the Wanker King.

[Related Reading: John Mayer Thinks Rape Is Hilarious.]

Open Wide...

Panic Attack

I have recently discovered that thrashing through Dream Theater's "Panic Attack" on Rock Band 2 in hard mode, requiring my fingers to move faster than I thought possible and leaving me breathless and exhilarated, is a good way to avoid having an actual panic attack, as it engages my PTSD-riddled brain so thoroughly that an otherwise inexorable crescendo of anxiety is left no option but silent retreat in the void of my attention.

There is no such thing as an infallible "good trigger" for me—not even Eddie Izzard, my most faithful companion for crawling out of a spiral; I am covered in bees!—but "Panic Attack" is quickly becoming one of my most reliable distractions, an irony I find quite amusing and delightful.


[Lyrics below.]
All wound up
On the edge
Terrified

Sleep disturbed
Restless mind
Petrified

Bouts of fear
Permeate
All I see

Heightening
Nervousness
Threatens me

I am paralyzed
So afraid to die

Caught off guard
Warning signs
Never show

Tension strikes
Choking me
Worries grow

Why do I feel so numb
Is it something to do with where I come from
Should this be fight or flight
I don't know why I'm constantly so uptight

Rapid heartbeat pounding through my chest
Agitated body in distress
I feel like I'm in danger
Daily life is strangled by my stress

A stifling surge
Shooting through all my veins
Extreme apprehension
Suddenly I'm insane

Lost all hope for redemption
A grave situation desperate at best

Why do I feel so numb
Is it something to do with where I come from
Should this be fight or flight
I don't know why I'm constantly reeling

Helpless hysteria
A false sense of urgency
Trapped in my phobia
Possessed by anxiety

Run
Try to hide
Overwhelmed by this complex delirium

Helpless hysteria
A false sense of urgency
Trapped in my phobia
Possessed by anxiety

Run
Try to hide
Overwhelmed by this complex delirium

Open Wide...

Vloggin' with Blogginz, Episode 10

[Episodes One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine.]

In which we discuss the late-night talkshow wars. The password is: horrible.


[Also available at Daily Motion. Full transcript below.]
Title Card: Vloggin' with Blogginz

Liss: Hello!

KBlogz: Hey!

Liss: How's it goin'?

KBlogz: Pretty great.

Liss: We haven't done a vlog in a really long time.

KBlogz: I knooooow!

Liss: It's been far too long.

KBlogz: It really has.

Liss: Um, I see that Olivia is joining you this evening, as is Sophie.

KBlogz: Hi, Olivia! Hi, Sophie!

[KBlogz reaches out to pet Olivia, who's next to him on the couch; she turns and hisses at him. Liss and KBlogz both laugh.]

Liss: Oh no! A little bit of an attitude problem from Olivia. That was not very nice of her!

[KBlogz grins and shakes his head, because he's used to it.]

Liss: It's weird how sometimes she's like your best friend [KBlogz nods], and sometimes she's like that.

KBlogz: I know; she turns on a dime.

Liss: [sighs] Yeah, she's a little, um, mercurial. [KBlogz nods] Sophie, on the other hand, is your BFF.

KBlogz: [nods and points at Sophie] It's true.

Liss: There she is. [KBlogz laughs] So, I was wondering if you could give me your take on the late-night talkshow wars at NBC, which have been raging lately…?

KBlogz: Okay. [edit] Um, this just feels like the new, you know, war between Team Jacob and Team Edward, so, it's like— [Liss laughs] It's, you know, it's like the new Twilight.

Liss: Yeah. Whose team are you on there?

KBlogz: Um, ooh. Jacob…? I dunno. I don't like to take sides. It's just—I, I enjoy both sides in that debate.

Liss: I agree with you.

KBlogz: Very difficult.

Liss: I mean, how can you choose between glitter and snarl? They're both sexy.

KBlogz: Two very hot dudes.

Liss: Yeah, exactly.

KBlogz: Who are monsters.

Liss: Which is actually the same thing that you can say about Leno and Conan.

KBlogz: Yeah, they're both monsters…but, it's like, Coco is kind of like Frankenstein, in that he—his intentions may be good…?

Liss: Mm-hmm.

KBlogz: But he still causes harm.

Liss: Mm-hmm.

KBlogz: Whereas Jay Leno is more like just an evil, horrible beast [Liss laughs] that just destroys all good things.

Liss: He really is. As you may recall, I actually, uh, organized a campaign of people flipping him off because I hate him so much.

KBlogz: I regret that he never addressed that on his show. Although, that would be kind of weird for you.

Liss: Well, he did say in an interview at one point that, you know, people on the internet are crazy and stupid or something; I don't know. [KBlogz laughs] You know, it was one of those defenses like, you don't have to take it seriously 'cause it's the internet, which isn't…"real."

KBlogz: Right. Well, you should say that teevee isn't real.

Liss: Yeah! Yeah, Leno!

KBlogz: Leno, nobody watches teevee anymore! [Liss laughs] You d-bag.

Liss: [laughing] He really is a d-bag; I can't stand him. I don't understand why he has, like, this likable guy reputation, because I think he seems like such a bully, and there's a really mean undertone to everything he says and does.

KBlogz: He's a horrible, despicable asshole. [laughs]

Liss: Yeah. And his show sucks, let's be honest.

KBlogz: He's not funny.

Liss: No.

[edit]

KBlogz: He has a really horrible delivery—

Liss: Mm-hmm.

KBlogz: —and, um, he will just— It's just so aggressively formulaic and so—

Liss: [laughs] Yeah!

KBlogz: —horrible, and you've got your lowest common denominator business going on—

Liss: Yeah.

KBlogz: He'll just go: [in Jay Leno voice and cadence] "Hey, did you guys hear about Paris Hilton this weekend? Yeah, meh meh meh, apparently, a slut!"

Liss: [bursts out laughing] That's totally right! That's it! He always says apparently, and then says the most "obvious," ridiculous thing ever—that's exactly right. Have you also noticed that he always repeats his punchlines like 50 times?

KBlogz: Yeah. [as Leno] "Meh, slut! Kevin! [as if looking at bandleader/sidekick Kevin Eubanks] Kevin, a slut!"

Liss: [bursts out laughing] That's right! And that's the joke.

KBlogz: Yeah, it is. [shakes head] And people can't get enough of it apparently.

Liss: [laughs] I know; it's horrible. He's so horrible.

[KBlogz laughs; edit]

KBlogz: [as Leno] "Yeah, so, this weekend I was driving around in my classic car, and I came up behind Tim Allen, and he went 'Arugh arugh arugh' and we high-fived each other! Meh meh! [edit] Yeah so, uh, Charlie Sheen and Jon Cryer stopped by my house the other day, and, uh, they told me they were going to start filming for the next season of, uh, Two and a Half Men. And, uh, I don't have any joke for that; I'm just really excited. [edit] I was watching TMZ this weekend with my daughters, and, uh—"

Liss: He doesn't have any daughters.

KBlogz: Oh.

Liss: With his wife, Mavis.

KBlogz: [as Leno] "I was watching TMZ by myself in my giant airplane hangar full of cars [Liss laughs] and saw a news story about, uh, you know, Denise Richards, and she's a dumb idiot! Meh meh meh meh! [giggles as Leno] She doesn't know nothin'! [edit] Feh feh feh feh! Meh meh meh meh meh! Meh! Heh heh heh heh heh! [edit] Anyways, uh, you know, living in California is just crazy. Uh, you get to see a lot of Hollywood stars, and they're all dummies, and sometimes I like to call it Hollyweird! [edit] You know, I'm America's Sweetheart! I'm a really nice guy, I'm the nice guy of late night, I'm Jay Leno, everybody loves me, I got so many cars, I wear blue jeans, and a blue jeans shirt—it looks like a jumpsuit! I'm so nice!" [makes mean face]

[edit]

Liss: If his show were, like, a comic strip, what comic strip would it be?

KBlogz: It would be like a lot of comic strips, actually. [Liss laughs] Like, Marmaduke, and—

Liss: Ziggy.

KBlogz: Crack—Crankshaft, and Ziggy. Cathy—except Cathy's a woman, so yeah.

Liss: ACK! ACK!

Title Card: The End!!!

Open Wide...

Quote of the Day

"Women are psychos."—Professional wankstain Glenn Beck, on his radio show earlier today.

What makes this quote particularly amusing is the context in which he made it, which was a discussion of how newly-elected Massachusetts Senator Scott Brown used the occasion of his acceptance speech to announce that both of his daughters are "available." And the commentary is that there's something wrong with women. Okay.

You know, if women are "psychos" (nice disablism there, buddy), maybe there's a reason for it. Like the fact that it's still considered acceptable for their fathers to treat them like chattel on a national stage. Just sayin'.

Last night, after the victory speech, [Brown's] family is up next to him, and his daughters were there. Now, I have three daughters, so I have a little bit of experience of saying and doing the wrong thing, with my— Every dad has done stupid things that, you get home, and your wife says [puts on cartoonish nagging female voice and babbles incoherently]. 'Cause guys just—I mean, you cannot figure women out. You can't, you don't know the psychosis that is chickdom. Psychosis! Guys, you can figure out. Food, sex—that's it. Feed me, make love to me, let me sleep. That's pretty much it. We're simple.

Women are psychos. I can't— There are times that I just walk into, uh, you know, um, you know what? I feel like, you know in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, and he's running out and he's got the, um, you know, he's got the statue— "Throw me the statue!" "Throw me the whip!" And he throws the statue and the guy doesn't throw the whip…? And then he goes underneath the door and he sees the other guy impaled, you know what I mean? And he's like, "Oh, yeah. He shoulda thrown me the whip." Um, that's the way I think dads feel once in awhile if you have daughters—that you'll just all of a sudden step into it and just like whoosh! And you're impaled on the side of the cave. Am I right?

So, as a guy who has experienced that before, I understand. But I don't understand the thinking of Scott Brown last night, with his two daughters, and national TV audience, when he says this:
[audio of Brown speaking] Just in case anybody who's watching throughout the country, yes, they're both available.
Speaking of his daughters here.
[Commenting Guidelines: Disablist comments musing about Beck's psychological state or outright calling him crazy, nuts, deranged, delusional, unstable, a lunatic, in need of commitment, etc. are both unwelcome and not on-topic. I have a mental disorder, for example. It doesn't make me a lying rightwing dipshit.]

Open Wide...

Today's Edition of "Conniving and Sinister"



Blank

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, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98. 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.

Open Wide...

Photo of the Day


Tourists marvel at colorful ice palaces created by Swiss artist Karl Neuhaus in a small forest near Schwarzsee Lake, Switzerland.

Open Wide...

Daily Kitteh

OK, so Ms. Sovereign McHammerson is not much of a hunter (which we are happy about, as one of our household pleasures is bird-watching). Turns out being a cat so blazingly white that photographers are hard-pressed to even snap you in correct exposure is also not the greatest advantage as a predator (unless we move to Antarctica).


So, a couple of weeks ago, I'm sitting on the side porch, and see this, out by our raspberry patch:


You might not be able to tell from the photo, but Sovereign and the squirrel are like, nine inches apart. (It was hard for me to get a decent shot, because every time I came out, the squirrel would run away, but then would come right back, within inches of Sovereign, turn it's back on her, casually eat some of the sunflower seeds that had fallen from the bird-feeder, twitch its tail in her face, etc.)

This went on for a number of days. Sovereign showed interest, but no real hunting behavior -- usually she was in Kitteh Meatloaf position.

So, about the third time I see it, I decide to get the camcorder and shoot a little "Lions and Lambs Why Can't We All Just Get Along?" video, when this happened: (TW video below the fold may increase adrenal activity in wild-life-lovers)


So, now I'm thinking that it will never be the same between them -- the squirrel has now learned that this big white fluff-ball would like to chow some sunflower-stuffed Sciurus griseus.

But no. The next day, I look out the kitchen window and see this:


Let me enhance that for you.


OK, bad photo, so I go out to get a better angle, and once again -- the squirrel runs away from me, not the cat.


I honestly believe they are just playing. Or the squirrel is messing with her mind. Or both.

Open Wide...

I Writes Pomes, I Does

In the course of a) procrastinating writing my piece for Friday night, and b) also not usefully putting in work hours, I started looking for some of my older work that I might be able to use if I don't come up with something in time.

(I always do this, by the way, write things on deadline day; it's like the pressure opens the valve in my head that lets stories out)

While doing so, I found this work from a year ago. I should also point out that, as per the subject, I do write poetry, and I'm particularly fond of structured formats. I attended a local coffeehouse competition once bearing a limerick, two sonnets and a villanelle (the latter about pirates stealing the host's pants, no less!).

Anyway, I think it was New Year's Day of 2009 that I happened to be watching a channel showing all six Star Wars movies in a row. By the time I got to IV (the original first movie), I was getting a bit cabin-fevered, and decided to take up the pen to render the movie in a series of seven sonnets.

And so I present to you:

Star Wars IV: A New Hope, in sonnets1 2

Attacked, a Rebel freighter flees a shot
Of searing light and energies most dire;
The Star Destroyer's troops aboard in fire
The Princess stashes plans in a robot.

Though Rebel soldiers grimly choose a spot,
Soon under blasters' goad they must retire,
While Leia's caught by troopers' stunning fire,
And laid upon a steely prison cot.

Two droids escape from Vader's grasping hand;
A stolen pod falls from a burning sky,
To Tatooine, a dry and dusty place.

C-3PO and R2 on the sand:
The golden droid is caught, R2 they fry,
The Jawas drive a huge and mobile base.

-=-=-

Skywalker's uncle leads him from the farm:
Some droids to help them gather vap'rous trace.
The first R2, though, shortly comes to harm,
So R2-D2's taken in its place.

Now Luke would join the Rebels out in space,
And cleaning droids, he whines about his lot;
R2 projects a holo, Leia's face:
A message begging help, sealed in the bot.

"Show me the rest", says Luke, "she's kinda hot!"
R2 suggests removal of a bolt
Would fix the ever-looping show he'd got.
But R2 flees; Luke knows he's been a dolt.

The name Kenobi rings a bell for Luke;
An ancient hermit, Dune Sea-living kook.

-=-=-

Though R2's found, the Tusken strike with speed;
Poor 3P0 completely falls in parts.
Kenobi's roar clears Sandmen and their steed,
They're shaken to their dusty Tusken hearts.

Back in Kenobi's hut, Luke starts,
Examining his father's ancient sword.
But though he wants what Obi-wan imparts,
To Uncle Owen, Luke's more son than ward.

The Jawas dead: it seems, by Tuskens gored?
Kenobi says, "Young Luke, you must look twice,
The Sandmen never formed so large a horde;
No, only Stormtroopers are so precise."

Luke races back to find his life destroyed:
To Alderaan with Ben he'll take the droid.

-=-=-

Mos Eisley now, a passage must be bought.
Patrols seek droids, but weak minds cannot see -
Kenobi's wave can change a trooper's thought;
"These aren't the droids we're looking for", says he.

Cantina music tinkles softly out,
From sunken inn comes, too, a reek of beer;
Kenobi takes them in despite Luke's doubt -
No droids though, "We don't serve their kind in here!"

A local is disarmed by Obi-Wan;
A Wookiee says he just might have a ship.
A quick deal's made, but soon they must be gone -
In space the Falcon soon gives Imps the slip.

While Leia suffers torture by a droid,
And soon must watch her Alderaan destroyed.

-=-=-

Kenobi teaches Luke, the sword to use;
R2's dejarek skills make Solo grin.
"You'll lose your arms," he says, "should Chewie lose."
C-3P0 says "Let the Wookiee win."

At Alderaan, no planet found, just space;
A short-range fighter out this far? Oh please!
A moon nearby might be the hidden base -
But "That's no moon!" is what Kenobi sees.

The tractor beam pulls Falcon into bay;
A smuggler's trick eludes the troopers' search.
Kenobi knows how they can get away
But Luke can't leave the Princess in the lurch.

While in cell block eleven thirty-eight
In darkened cell does Leia grimly wait.

-=-=-

The rescue goes awry, the hall's a trap:
To freedom can the heroes find no path.
Til something in the Princess seems to snap -
She blasts a way into a stinking bath.

Kenobi's cut the tractor's fearsome grasp,
While Luke and Leia swing across a shaft.
The Wookiee, droids and Solo flee the rasp
of Vader testing Old Ben's sabercraft.

The Jedi smiles; he knows the time is near
To move beyond life's day-to-day concerns
He stands up straight, his saber raised, no fear;
At Vader's stroke, Ben to the Force returns.

The Falcon flies, Kenobi dies, alone;
Skywalker's Jedi skills he now must hone.

-=-=-

Han Solo's unaware of Vader's trace -
The Grand Moff's station follows Falcon's lead.
Though Leia's worry's written on her face,
The Rebels soon will have the plans they need.

The briefing room is stuffed with pilots true.
The Rebel forces' task seems much too hard -
In one-man fighters, to the shield and through,
A tiny six-foot port, they fly toward.

Reb after Reb falls to the flashing fire,
As Vader flies his Tie with eerie skill.
But Luke is just as finely-skilled a flyer:
His torps fly true, the Death Star for to kill.

A big hurrah, a fanfare blown in praise
Now Luke must learn alone, the Jedi ways.

-=-=-

1 Some of them are Petrarchan, some of them Spenserian, some of them Shakespearean. And yah, I may have dinged the scansion in a few places. Come on! It's not bad for something I managed to write before Lando even flew into Death Star II...for the curious, it's Petrarchan, Spenserian twice, then four nice easy Shakespearean. While I like the Petrarchan, the squishiness of the eight-line conflict, and the wastefulness of six lines of resolution, make it unsuitable for this form (part of a sequence). I think when I do the other movies, I'll move the Petrarchan to the end, where a six-line resolution would be more appropriate.

2 Yes, I clearly had too little to do today.

Open Wide...

Let's Play BasKKKetball

This story is not from The Onion. More's the pity.

A new professional basketball league called the All-American Basketball Alliance (AABA) sent out a press release on Sunday saying that it intends to start its inaugural season in June, with teams in 12 U.S. cities. However, the AABA is different from other sports leagues because only players who are “natural born United States citizens with both parents of Caucasian race are eligible to play in the league.” AABA commissioner Don “Moose” Lewis insists that he’s not racist, but he just wants to get away from the “street-ball” played by “people of color” and back to “fundamental basketball.” Lewis cited the recent incidents of bad behavior by NBA players, implying that such actions would never happen with white players:

“There’s nothing hatred about what we’re doing,” he said. “I don’t hate anyone of color. But people of white, American-born citizens are in the minority now. Here’s a league for white players to play fundamental basketball, which they like.” [...]

He pointed out recent incidents in the NBA, including Gilbert Arenas’ indefinite suspension after bringing guns into the Washington Wizards locker room, as examples of fans’ dissatisfaction with the way current professional sports are run.

“Would you want to go to the game and worry about a player flipping you off or attacking you in the stands or grabbing their crotch?” he said. “That’s the culture today, and in a free country we should have the right to move ourselves in a better direction.”

The AABA is targeting Southern cities, but one proposed city — Augusta, GA — is opposed to the league.
Proposed team names are The Grand Dragons, The Kluxers, The Imperial Wizards, and The Flaming Cross.

Welcome to post-racial America.

Crossposted.

Open Wide...

Wednesday Blogaround

This blogaround brought to you by Shaxco, canners and distributors of Deeky's Crab Stew.

Recommended Reading:

Echidne: Fear of Feminism

Chally: Disability Is Not Your Analogy

SarahMC: Work: Ur Doin it Rong

Sean: The Truth Still Matters

Andy: Gavin Newsom: Obama Position on Same-Sex Marriage is 'Fundamentally Inexcusable'

Marcella: Carnival Against Sexual Violence 86

Anji: Eighth Carnival of Feminist Parenting

Tigtog: Ukraine's Got Talent Winner

Leave your links in comments...

Open Wide...

Today in Rape Culture

[Trigger warning.]

Smack in the middle of a new profile of Neil Gaiman in The New Yorker:

He was one of the first writers to have a blog—he started it in 2001, and had, at last count, some 1.4 million readers—and he often posts to his Twitter feed a dozen or more times a day. He attributes his recent No. 1 débuts to his ability to communicate directly with his fans: he tells them to buy a book on a certain day, and they do. "It means I'm nobody's bitch," he told me.
The hat tip goes to Latoya, who notes in her piece that Gaiman's success is largely attributable to "his wide appeal to female readers," which makes his use of misogynist slurs all the more tragic.

But let us be honest: The use of "bitch" here is not merely a misogynist slur. To be someone's "bitch" is to be sexually subservient to hir, and the phrase is typically associated with nonconsensual sexual subservience, i.e. rape. (Specifically, it originates with prison rape.)

I understand, quite keenly, the value of being a writer who is able to communicate directly with hir readership. That is a priceless freedom.

But...

Mr. Gaiman, I have been a writer beholden to other people with agendas, constrained in my work by forces I could not control. I have also been someone's "bitch." And they are not the same thing.

Not at all.

------------------------------

Commenting Note: This thread is not a referendum on Gaiman's work or popularity, and comments dismissing him on the basis of his talent—"I always thought he was a shitty writer, anyway."—or on the basis that he's not famous enough—"Who?"—as well as comments defending him on the basis of his talent or popularity—"But he's a brilliant artist!" or "He's famous! Who the fuck are you?"—are irrelevant, unhelpful, and will be considered off-topic. Comments about being a disappointed fan, based on the content of his work, or quoting text, interviews, etc. that make this surprising or unsurprising for you, are on-topic.

[Related Reading: On "Bitch" and Other Misogynist Language; Rape Culture 101.]

Open Wide...

Every Single Time...

...I read another interview with Gabby Sidibe, I love her more.

Lee Daniels is best known as the producer of the Oscar-winning Monster's Ball. He made his directorial debut in 2006 with Shadowboxer, ostensibly a thriller about contract killers starring Helen Mirren as the stepmother (and lover) of Cuba Gooding Jr. Precious is a million miles away from being thriller material.

"I don't think Lee got Precious at the start," says Sidibe. "He assumed what she was like. He thought bigger girls were dumb. Is he ever wrong!" she laughs.

So you understood Precious better than him? "Hell, yeah. I'm a girl – so I knew what Precious was like a little bit better than him. Plus, he's from Philadelphia and I'm from Harlem, so I brought New York to this character."

More importantly, she understood how Precious would present herself to a hostile world in a way that the director couldn't. "He assumed she wouldn't try to be presentable – but I knew she would. She wouldn't wear – as Lee initially thought – pink yellow and orange and flannel. He wanted to tie my hair into ponytails to make me look poor – but I would never have looked like that. I'm not a rich girl but I would never dress like that. And I knew Precious wouldn't. So he changed her wardrobe."

But what about the hunched and truculent way Precious carries herself – so very different from the way beaming Gabourey Sidibe swept into the room an hour ago? "I channelled her anger and her daunting disposition. She walks into the room and her shoulders are hunched. She disappears into her own world. It's called acting, sweetie," she says.

Open Wide...

Massachusetts Election Open Thread

When we saw the results last night, all I could do was shake my head. I know there will be all sorts of postmortem debate about how Coakley's campaign was run shittily and changing demographics and blah blah blah, and some of it will be right and some of it will be wrong, but my visceral reaction was that a Republican taking Ted Kennedy's seat was somehow a perfect (if terrible) symbol for the Great Bipartisan Presidency.

And now the media is all aflutter with the opportunity to write its "GOP COMEBACK!!!1!eleventy!" story, just in time for midterm elections. Swell.

And right on cue:

AP: Democrats seek back footing after epic Mass. loss.

New York Times: G.O.P. Senate Victory Stuns Democrats.

Politico: Forces of change now target President Obama.

USA Today: GOP win in Mass. toughens task for Obama.

New York Times: Democratic Loss Imperils Health Care Overhaul.

And here come the defeatocrats:

TPM: Health Care Comes to Screeching Halt—Sen. Webb: No HCR Votes Until Brown Seated and Frank: I Hope Some GOP Senators Will Support Health Care Reform—Because Without Them, Bill May Be Toast.

ABC: Bayh Warns "Catastrophe" If Dems Ignore Massachusetts Senate Race Lessons.

If you'd like to read something written by someone with some sense:

Peter Daou: We Told You So.

Discuss.

Open Wide...

Personal Note: Stage Appearance

If anyone in southern Ontario is interested in making it out to this, I'll be appearing Friday night at Cliterature, a local event in KW for several years now. I've performed several times, usually reading my own work, as indeed I will be this year. Either show would be good, though, I know Charlene Russell is performing both nights, and Nairn Holz is reading her work on Saturday, and she's outstanding.

The show - actually shows, this year there will be two nights, with a different lineup each night - presents a variety of different acts, including burlesque, comedy, readings, dance, film and photography, all focused on women's sexuality.

The event isn't really suitable for children, as one might expect from the focus and name.

Open Wide...