The new feline hot spot in our host is a tile covered coffee table that was in my former shop. Oscar and Della barely fit on it together but when did that ever stop an intrepid cat?
Today is Dr. A and my anniversary. We’re low keying it tonight by eating some homemade (by lil ole me) beef stew and celebrating tomorrow. I thought it was only fitting to dedicate this Waterboys song to her. The lyrics are quite appropriate. I’m not quite sure where the bumper cars fit in but Mike Scott is as cryptic as Matthew Weiner so there you have it:
You may have heard that potholes are a longstanding problem here in New Orleans. I suspect the rest of you lot have your share as well. A New Orleans group called Fix My Streets has declared today National Pothole Day. There’s already such a day in the United Kingdom, which is celebrated on January, 16. It’s bound to be a perennial holiday there after the re-election of the Tory austerity government. Repeat after me: Posh Boys = Potholes.
I know what you’re thinking: another man/woman made holiday. All holidays are created by someone and this beats the hell out of the ones that want you to reach for your wallet. This holiday asks the guvmint to reach into its pocket and spend our tax money on infrastructure.
What’s an ode to National Pothole Day without some pictures? We begin with one from my yellow blogger buddy Jeffrey who has become a Twitter legend as @skooks. Jeff’s pothole was there from July, 2010 to January, 2015. This still life dates from March, 2011 and is called Pothole sofa:
Speaking of the Tweeter Tube, this is an amusing one:
Now that I’ve got you all riled up and ready to storm the barricades, it’s time to cool you down and give Nick Lowe the last word:
MATTHEWS: You’re the briefer for the president on intelligence, you’re the top person to go in and tell him what’s going on. You see Cheney make this charge he’s got a nuclear bomb and then they make subsequent charges he knew how to deliver it…and nobody raised their hand and said, “No that’s not what we told him.”
MORELL: Chris, Chris Chris, what’s my job, right? My job—
MATTHEWS: To tell the truth.
MORELL: My job—no, as the briefer? As the briefer?
MATTHEWS: Okay, go ahead.
MORELL: As the briefer, my job is to carry CIA’s best information and best analysis to the president of the United States and make sure he understands it. My job is to not watch what they’re saying on TV.
I’ll tell you what your job was. Your job was the same as anybody else’s in the entire fucking White House, the entire government of the United Goddamn States, is today: To keep as many Americans alive as humanly possible for as long as you could. That is the job of the president, his entire staff, every agency established by the government in the history of this country. That is the job. Keep as damn near close to everybody alive as you can. Keep them from dying. That is your basic obligation. That’s it.
Everything else is just smoke-filled coffeehouse crap. The government runs to make sure that people can live. That’s the point. So if you think your job is to push paper or print agendas or make things efficient or do what the president wants, I have news for you: It’s not more important than that basic obligation. That basic obligation is why you are there. Your paychecks may be signed by your boss or your agency director or whoever, but your purpose is something else.
And in this particular case, Mr. Morell, you watched on TV as the president and vice president said shit you knew wasn’t true, and at the time you said nothing.
And thousands of Americans died in the sand.
As they were dying, you still said nothing.
Year after year after year.
So now you come to us with this revelation and expect, what? To be treated gently? To be patted on the head and comforted, as if you were the victim of a terrible crime?
Have you lost your fucking mind? I don’t love Chris Matthews, okay, and he was as guilty as anyone of weaseling around taking a stand on the war one way or the other, but in this case? He’s righter as a human being than you ever were. You were still a human being with an immortal soul, by the way, while you were a CIA briefer, and taking care for that soul’s disposition was your job as well.
You said nothing. Back when you could have stopped it, you said nothing. People were putting their bodies in the streets and getting fired left and right for saying based on their best guess what you could have said with certainty, with force, with full faith and credit. You could have called someone, anyone, even some filthy hippie blogger, and said this isn’t right. They’re lying. And you could have stopped it, or at least done what you could under your obligation as a human being.
What was your job? What was your JOB? What was your life? Two third of all the evil in the world comes from convincing ourselves we are powerless. Nobody could have stopped it, you’d say. Maybe so. But your job was to keep everyone alive. Your job was to try.
Wow…just…wow…the degree of self-delusion. Hell, at least the Pistols admitted it was all a big farce — though one that’s aged a lot better than the shit-burger served up by Team Junior and Dick, along with their waitstaff Judith, David, et al.
The half-assed defense of “but Kerry and Clinton voted for it, too” is just icing on the cake. Do they really think we’ve forgotten, the obvious lying, the smug expressions of contempt for anyone who suggested, one, there simply weren’t any WMDs (even as they admitted it was “just a convenient excuse”), and two, who considered the long term policy ramifications of shattering a very fragile “nation” glued together as a post WWI convenience and primed to fall apart…as we’re seeing right now, and will be paying for, one way or another, for a long time. Christ.
In any reasonable world where accountability actually meant anything, the likes of David Brooks — not to mention Cheney, Wolfowitz, Shrub, and all the rest, would, at the very least, find themselves exiled to some far off, distant, frozen wasteland to live our their remaining years in abject humiliation and contempt, a testament to the consequences of massively lethal fraud…
This post started off as another trip in the Adrastos Wayback Machine to February 8, 2007. That’s when I published one of my favorite Bobby Jindal posts; comparing him to a teevee character both of whom are psalm singing sons of bitches like Diaper Dave. We’ll get there eventually, but Gov PBJ remains the Eddie Haskell of politics: a smarmy creep who kisses up and kicks down.
PBJ is back in the news with his latest pander to religious bigots and the far right of his party. A Louisiana house committee killed the so-called religious freedom act, which spurred the Governor into spurious action:
Just hours after a Louisiana House panel overwhelmingly voted Tuesday to effectively kill one of his priority pieces of legislation, Gov. Bobby Jindal issued an executive order that he said would continue to give life to the Louisiana Marriage and Conscience Act’s intent.House Bill 707 had sought to carve out protections for people who oppose same-sex marriage. The executive order is much narrower in scope, Jindal admitted, and some opponents of the measure have questioned whether the order will have much impact. But after the House Civil Law Committee’s 10-2 vote Tuesday to end the measure’s chances this session through a procedural move, Jindal argued that his possibly temporary order was the “next best thing.”
“It applies to all of the executive branch of state government,” Jindal told reporters minutes after issuing the order. “It will offer good protections for the people of Louisiana.”
Y’all have heard of a fig leaf, right? This is one. Despite all the outrage this action has inspired in the easily outraged sectors of social media, this order is of limited scope and will lapse when PBJ leaves office in 2016 unless his successor gives it CPR.
This is what happens when a Governor has a 32% approval rating, they lose key votes. I’m not sure who’s more delusional, Jindal or Chris Christie. At least Christie is a talented stump performer whereas Jindal has all the charisma of a Jello salad. PBJ keeps serving himself up at church suppers in Iowa but it’s not working. When you’re that unpopular back home, it’s hard for voters to take your candidacy seriously.
Politico ran one of the least surprising political stories ever last week: everybody in Washington hates David Vitter. Hell, I’ve hated him for years. His lead in the polls in the 2015 Gret Stet Goober race isn’t based on likability either, which you would never know from the headline on a piece by Gregory Roberts in the Advocate: Vitter on top in state polls, under fire in Washington.
That headline is silly BUT this quote belongs in the absurdist hall of fame:
It could be that is just the way Vitter is: a stickler for the rules, even if that makes him a contrarian. Everyone’s high school class included at least one kid like that.
A stickler for the rules? The David Vitter who’s best known for a prostitution scandal? David Vitter who I call Diaper Dave and others call the Sinator? Vitter is more like the tattletale who feigns innocence and lets his buddies take the fall when he’s caught than a contrarian. In short, he’s the consummate hypocrite; something one would hope that Roberts, who is the Advocate’s DC bureau chief, would be well aware of.
There’s an old school term for sanctimonious hypocrites like Bitter Vitter: psalm-singing son of a bitch. There are a lot of them around, pretending to be conviction politicians. I wish the MSM would stop falling for their absurd nonsense, but that’s unlikely. They feel obliged to treat the David Vitters of the world as serious people instead of what they really are: players in the theatre of the absurd.
By implying that the only problem with the Iraq War was faulty intelligence, Marco Rubio implies that when the United States has compelling evidence that a hostile dictator is building “weapons of mass destruction,” the correct response is war. This represents a dramatic departure from historical American practice. In the 1940s, Harry Truman—a president Rubio admires—watched Joseph Stalin, one of the greatest mass murderers in modern history, build not just chemical and biological weapons, but a nuclear bomb. And yet Truman did not attack the U.S.S.R. In the early 1960s, John F. Kennedy, another Rubio favorite, watched Mao Zedong build a nuclear weapon, and made the same decision.
What if the response to “he/she/they have nuclear weapons!” was YEAH. AND. SO. WHAT? I mean, we’ve got a shit ton of them and despite the agitation of the Oathkeepers I see no NATO troops in my yard.
The U.S. Supreme Court is expected by the end of June to make a landmark ruling that could make gay marriage the law of the land or return the decision to individual states.
“It’s at the core of the Catholic faith and to imagine how we are going to succeed in our country unless we have committed family life, (a) committed child-centered family system, is hard to imagine,” Bush told the conservative Christian Broadcasting Network show, The Brody File, in an interview broadcast on Sunday.
“So, irrespective of the Supreme Court ruling because they are going to decide whatever they decide – I don’t know what they are going to do – we need to be stalwart supporters of traditional marriage,” said Bush, who converted to Catholicism 20 years ago.
Unless we have committed family life? The fuck do you think people are trying to get married for? What on earth is wrong with you? As for a child-centered outlook, God, you know, it really would help with our success as a country. I look forward to your advocacy for things like universal paid parental leave, expansion of food subsidies for poor children, and meaningful immigration reform.
You fucking schmuck. Child centered family life. So couples who can’t have or don’t want kids don’t contribute to the success of America? Say it to their faces, I dare you. So gay couples who adopt, will they be allowed to get married? How will we prove they really, really want to adopt? Should they have to sign a contract?
Keep making less and less sense, dumbass.
So Chris Cillizza of the Washington Post — whose mission in life is to explain to us how things really work in politics — is rolling along in his “Hillary Clinton is shamefully avoiding the press” column when he cries out to us:
Do you not think it is of value to know how Hillary Clinton spent her time since leaving the State Department? And how the Clinton Foundation handled its business with various donors who would, undoubtedly, still be in the picture if she was elected president? Or what she thinks of the Trans-Pacific Partnership and the fight currently happening in Congress? Or Iran? Or the Middle East?
You get the idea. The role of the media in this process is to show voters who these people are, really, and to explain how these people would govern the country if elected. Like the media or not, that’s a very important role — and one that is essential to a functioning democracy. (My italics.)
The role of the media in this process? What on earth are you talking about, Chris?
You’re supposed to be our super-savvy guide to the way things are in the power game that isnational politics. You are the least sentimental creature to walk that system’s halls… remember? No one can out-realism you! You’re Mister “let me tell you how it really works.” That’s your whole franchise. And yet here you are, bawling about “the role of the media” as if it had some sort of guaranteed status within what reporters (mindlessly) call the process.
Ugh. Whenever I hear somebody bitching about a lack of access all I can think is WORK HARDER.
The most important thing Matthew Weiner learned from David Chase was this: Leave the Russian in the woods. In short, it’s okay to be subtle, ambiguous and leave something to the viewers’ imagination. That’s exactly what Weiner did in the Mad Men series finale, Person To Person. It was something that was lost on the twitterati. It’s one reason I never live tweet Mad Men. That’s okay for sports but Mad Men requires that you put the fucking phone down and pay attention.
Unlike The Sopranos where people didn’t change because it was easier to be a wise guy, the characters on Mad Men *have* changed and evolved over the years. I just re-watched the first two seasons and was stuck by how jerky most of the guys in the bullpen were, even my main man Deadeye Cosgrove. He was not a monumental asshole like Pete Campbell but he was an entitled jerk who thought he was God’s gift to women. It was before he became a GIF dancer I suppose. Oddly enough, Harry Crane was the least jerky guy at Sterling, Cooper so he changed for the worst.
The ending has occasioned the most discussion online and elsewhere, but we’ll get to that after the break. First, a picture of Pete and the Pegster’s farewell:
Suit up, everyone! There’s some drums of Freeper sludge that I’ve pulled out of the “tribalism” section of storage that need to be opened and flushed, so let’s have at it!
Living (as I do) in Texas, I was shocked and horrified this week as I discovered that – Texas has gone faggot!
Attempt to block same-sex marriages in Texas is turned back
Washington Post ^ | 05/15/2015 | Sandya Somashekhar
Posted on 5/15/2015 9:43:14 PM by GIdget2004
The Texas legislature early Friday failed to advance a proposal to prohibit local officials from granting marriage licenses to gay couples, a measure viewed as an effort to preempt an expected U.S. Supreme Court ruling next month regarding gay unions.
The measure died when a Republican campaign to push it through the Texas House before a midnight deadline was stymied by Democratic delaying tactics.
If the measure had reached the floor, it appeared to have sufficient support to clear the Republican-controlled chamber.
To: GIdget2004And Dell Computer fought against this bill? I’m posting on a Dell machine – but not for long!
When Kick was about 10 months old, we were out with her at restaurant. She was fussing, and I got out one of these things to feed her. She ate, shoved it away, fussed some more, and ate again, and I noticed an elderly lady at the next table giving us the side-eye.
I know my kid is loud. I’m sorry. If she doesn’t shut up in a second I’ll take her outside for a walk around the scenic, diesel-stinking parking lot. I promise you I’ve got this.
Eventually Kick settled down and noshed, and after a few minutes the lady came over to the table and said, “Can I ask you a question?”
I braced myself and nodded.
“I had my children 60 years ago,” she said. “What are you feeding her?”
Turns out she’d never seen a pouch of baby food — portable, no mess, baby can suck the stuff right out — before and was curious. We chatted for a while about what babies ate then and now, and she looked at the ingredients: organic this, kale that, quinoa all over the place.
One bill directs the state workforce agency to drug test some layoff victims applying for unemployment insurance. Another bill calls for a separate agency to implement drug screening for a variety of income support programs, including the federal Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program. And the third bill restricts two-thirds of SNAP purchases to “healthy” foods, while also banning the purchase of “crab, lobster, shrimp, or any other shellfish.”
- Any package not equal to 16 oz
- Healthy Life 100% whole wheat (high fiber)
- Bagel bread, bagels, pita bread
- Muffins, English Muffins
- Frozen dough, frozen bread and rolls
- Sugar-free or with Splenda, double fiber,with flaxseed, or gluten-free
With regard to cheese:
• Displayed in the dairy case • 16 ounce package only
• Reduced fat is allowed
- Cheddar (mild or medium only)
- Sharp or extra sharp cheddar, swiss, fresh mozzarella
- Shredded, sliced (except American), crumbles, cubes, sticks, and other shapes
- Cheese foods, spreads, products
- Specialty, goat cheese, smoked, herbed, flavored, cheese from deli case, imported, organic
- Reduced sodium, reduced cholesterol, lactose-free
- Kosher (unless printed on check)
With regard to baby food, and this is where I lost the plot:
• Any container not equal to 4 oz • Organic
• Squeeze pouches
• Added cereal, granola, or yogurt • Meat or poultry, rice or pasta(for example, dinner, casserole, soup or stew)
• Casseroles, creamed vegetables
• Desserts (for example, juice & fruit blends, pudding, or cobbler)
Because do you have any idea what it’s like to feed a baby?
I’m not a food Nazi with regard to the kid. I feed her organic food because on average it’s just as easy as non-organic, because I’m lucky enough to live in a place with access to food like that, that isn’t that much more expensive than other kinds of food. (Kick eats plenty of french fries and loves mac and cheese. This is my kid. There will never be a time when she turns her nose up at a potato chip.) She gets the food pouches just to ensure she’s getting regular fruit and vegetables — it’s a guarantee, as opposed to the general crapshoot that is getting a toddler to eat regular-sized-human food.
While I was learning to feed her solids, she would inhale something one day, then refuse to eat it the next. It was infuriating. I would go out and buy half a dozen jars of some turkey flavored thing because “ooh, she loves it” only to open it up and have her throw it at me. She loved oatmeal, each and every single day, oatmeal mixed with applesauce, until one day she decided she was never eating that shit again. (I refuse to have toddler food battles. That way madness lies. You get in a war of wills with a 15-month-old, you deserve the shellacking you’re going to take.)
So we wound up with lots of half-open jars. Luckily Bucky ate baby food. Until we discovered the pouches, we were playing a percentage game, figuring that if we got more food, on a daily basis, IN THE BABY than we did ON THE BABY, she would grow and her brain would develop and it would all be okay. Sometimes she ate 2 ounces, sometimes she wanted more. I stopped calculating how much all the baby food cost because it made me want to do things like wrap her up in a towel and syringe the stuff into her.
“I’ve force-fed Claire,” I said to her once, when she was being particularly reluctant to take sustenance. “You’d be a piece of cake compared to her.”
This is a kid without any known food allergies. Without any major disorders or diseases we have discovered. She is not lactose intolerant or reactant to gluten or dyes, and her likes and dislikes are ordinary. AND IT WAS STILL A COLOSSAL PAIN IN THE BALLS TO GET FOOD INTO HER.
So imagine, if you will, my coming home from one of my two jobs, and not only having to grocery shop in 6 minutes because her sitter leaves in 10, but to do the complicated math that says, “this but not that, and only this much, of this color, from this place.”
Imagine my having to contend with buying specific sizes of food that pretty much guarantee I would be wasting some of it if not most of it since most baby food jars/packages tell you the baby has to eat it RIGHT NOW OR IT WILL GROW SALMONELLA AND THE BABY WILL DIE. Imagine my taking my $200 or so a month, and blowing half of it on stuff I knew she would probably not eat, even if I couldn’t calculate particularly which foods those were at the moment.
Imagine my discovering something she WOULD eat, which some fucking busybody asshole in the legislature has decided she cannot have, because I don’t feel bad enough about myself that day apparently.
How in the CHRIST.
There are a number of unanswered questions in these bills, which are all over the country — no spending on this, because it makes us feel virtuous to say so, and no spending on that, because we would blow cash on it if we were poor and you can’t be anything like us or the earth will cave in — the most pressing of which is, why the fuck are we bothering?
Do we think parents just aren’t bugged enough about the fact that they can’t feed their babies without help? Do we genuinely think that? Because I know the imaginary welfare queens are just out buying bling with all their government checks, and the imaginary pimps are filling their grocery carts with soda and steak and charging it back to You, Mr. Hard-Working Taxpayer, but I know of no actual parent who rejoices in the need to navigate benefits to keep his child from starving.
And making those benefits harder to navigate — my local grocery store has just started putting labels right on the shelves as to what is allowed and what is not, to save people embarrassment at the checkout line — does not feed those kids. It doesn’t employ their parents or even in the cases where their parents are irresponsible fucksticks, it doesn’t teach their parents anything. It just makes the people who want to feed their babies work harder to do something that shouldn’t be hard to do at all.
The woman who approached me in the restaurant smiled at my happy, fed baby and her pouch of food. “I wish we’d had those when I had kids,” she said.
I’ve made a few tweaks to this Saturday feature. Calling it Saturday Odd & Sods was so obvious that it didn’t occur to me until I had a Homeric insight yesterday. Homer Simpson, that is. D’OH.
In honor of the Mad Men series finale tomorrow, I have substituted the season-6 poster above for the usual Who in football helmets album cover. I’m either a substitute for another guy or the face, I’m not exactly sure which.
There will be some rather interesting Mad Men material after the break. But first this week’s theme song, which appeared in the pilot episode way back in 2007:
Don’t get all “sexually charged” with your interns.
I think I’ve said some version of this about 1,002 times on this blog alone, but apparently John Diehl wasn’t reading us. The Missouri Speaker of the House stepped down the other day after the KC Star revealed he had engaged in a “sexually charged” texting scandal with a 19-year-old intern.
Some have referred to this as “sexting,” which is apparently true as Katie Graham sent Diehl at least one bikini shot. Diehl then explained how he was in bed looking at her photo, wishing he could “have her.” She replied that she wished for that as well. Other exchanges have similar innuendo, ranging from the “satisfy” and “take care of me” jokes to the “can’t stop” side winks. Add that to the emojis and, well, you get the idea. Others have referred to this as a “tryst,” which seems a bit beyond what can be proven at this point. What’s odd is that, although it’s hard to believe that the sexual tension only went on in cyberspace, no one has definitively published a “Monica Moment” for the now-departed speaker.
Not that anyone’s asking for one…
And probably most of us are praying that we never have to hear about it…
I’ve covered murders, car wrecks and fires. I’ve seen disasters and I’ve read through Jeffrey Dahmer’s police report. I’ve managed pretty well, but the idea of this “family values” shithead working into a sexual lather with a kid who is probably younger than at least one of his own children is enough to make me shake like a junkie who swears roaches are crawling under his skin.
It’s not just that the guy makes Wooderson from “Dazed and Confused” look normal by comparison.
It’s not just that at the age of 49, he’s 30-some years older than she is.
It’s not just that this guy is all “family values” one minute and Horny the Elf the next minute. (“I have exercised poor judgment” is apparently the new way of saying, “Whoops, you caught me.”)
It’s that I can’t fathom the idea that a) he didn’t think he’d be caught, b) he didn’t watch at least some TV in the 1990s, when Bill Clinton spent a year on public display for a blowjob, c) he would think ANYTHING good would come of this.
Anyone out there in FD-land ever fuck an intern and end up getting something positive out of it? (Other than maybe a VD test?)
Anyone go home to a spouse and say, “Honey, I banged that new kid in my office” and have your spouse say, “Well, that’s great! Let me try to out-do him/her!” or words to that effect?
I come to this castigation from two perspectives: Having been young and horny and having been old and surrounded by younger people.
First, I don’t know why, but I really don’t blame Graham for this as much as I probably should. Part of me thinks that I should be upset with her and her behavior. She’s an adult, capable of voting, going to war and getting a marriage license. It’s not like Diehl enticed her to come into his van with promises of a Fun Dip or something. She was taking part in this, so it wasn’t as if he was forcing this on her with her begging for him to leave. I would also be really pissed if I were one of the other interns in the program. They all got yanked out of the Capitol because of this twisted Daddy-Daughter Dinner Date.
Still, I remember being this age and the adrenaline of awesome college opportunities. Between the freedom of college, the chances to do new things and my own libido, I think I once almost fucked a stop sign. The pre-Internet days of fucking up sexually, racially or any other way that is really low on the social-approval scale and living to tell about it are long gone. Whenever I hear that the university is thinking about scanning and archiving my old college newspaper, I get hives thinking, “What kind of stupid shit did I write when I was 20 that could come back to haunt me?” As long as she doesn’t try to turn her newly found fame in to “Dig Me! 2.0,” I (and most people) will probably be fairly likely to give her a pseudo-pass.
Second, I spent my whole adult life around college students and I have some how managed to not fuck one of them. Oddly enough, despite what Diehl seems to be indicating, it’s not that hard to do. I get angsty just thinking about one of them thinking about me in any way other than, “Hey, that’s my professor. He’s a pretty good guy and he’s kind of funny.” One year, many eons ago, a student asked me to meet her about an internship letter. When I did, I found her telling me that she was attracted to me and wanted to date me. I laughed at first, thinking this was something one of my friends set up. She persisted. I got the hell out of there, reported it to three people and stayed way the hell away from her until she graduated.
I think she’s still in my “Facebook Friend Request” queue for going on five years now. I delete her from time to time and she pops back up.
Again, a case of the hives…
But if you don’t have the “Danger, Danger Will Robinson” sense about you, or if you can’t just see these kids as androgynous little food tubes that take in caffeine and shit out homework, it is still possible for you to avoid getting all “sexually charged” with your interns and ruining your life.
A) Don’t think about them as a smorgasbord of pussy that’s set out in front of you
B) Focus on helping them in the way you were meant to, not in the way porn seems to indicate all college students want to be helped
C) Put their lives in perspective: When you were their age, they weren’t even sperm.
If none of that helps, may I suggest a quiet room and some fantasy porn? Feel free to rub one out as you watch the “young girl who needs guidance” stuff or the “boss gives it to the new secretary” stuff. It’s everywhere online, it’s mostly free and you probably won’t have to rebuild your entire life as a result.