Monthly Archives: July 2010

Unfuck The Gulf

I’ve been worried that I haven’t been swearing enough in my posts. We’re obviously falling behind on ourfuck quota for the year.So, I decided to link to this faintly amusing site with a fucking good name. I’m not planning to buy any of their kitsch but it may be for a good fucking cause. Fuckin’ A or is that unfuckin’ A?

Finally, exactly how does one go about unfucking something? Beats the hell outta me. Guess I’ll leave that to the philosophers among you.

It’s Not Always About Happy

I thought of my grandmother, and my mother, and my great-aunt LaVerne, and all the women I’ve known and their white-knuckled strength in the face of the unspeakable, when I read this:

your daughter is nine months old, a neurosurgeon will say to you, “We
believe resecting the left side of her brain will help control the

seizures that she has all day, every day, dozens, hundreds; she was
born with a massively deformed brain, what did you expect?

think a minute, and you realize the doctor is saying they are going to
take out half your daughter’s brain, and throw it away, so much trash,
and you’re supposed to sign the consent form for this.

after the surgery, when the seizures come back, you will sit across the
table from the man who is now your ex-husband, the man you adored, but
life can kick the ass out of any romance, even yours, and you will
order a very large glass of tequila, and you will say, “What the hell
are we supposed to do now?”

And you hope the answer is going to be about slaying ten men and Satan, because you’re capable of that.Yes.Heroic
action? You are totally down with that. But the answer is, you are
going to go home and do the best you can to make a life out of what
you’ve been given.

You want to read the whole thing.


The Assassin

(Ed. Note: Thanks to Athenae for letting me post on an off day. I couldn’t let this pass without a timely requiem. — Doc.)

He was about my height and had a graying mustache. His eyes
were soft and his smile was friendly. On his gnarled right hand, a relic of his
glory sat perched on his third finger. It was the only thing that distinguished
him from the other men in their 50s who wandered around the Sam’s Town casino
that repressively hot afternoon in Las Vegas.

For the $5 Dad and I each spent that day, we could have gotten a
lousy steak dinner or five minutes at a nickel slot.

Instead, we got a moment with Jack Tatum, the hard-hitting NFL safety who died
today of a heart attack.


If you played for the Oakland Raiders of the 1970s, you had
a nickname, and usually a colorful one at that. You had The Snake calling
plays, the Mad Stork at middle linebacker, the Tooz on the line
and four maniacs in the secondary known as the Soul Patrol.

Peel that nickname back a layer and you had Old Man Willie,
Dr. Death and Butch.

And then there was Tatum a.k.a. The Assassin.

He had an amazing football pedigree. He played for Woody Hayes at
Ohio State and John Madden in Oakland. He made the Pro Bowl three times and was once named the NFL’s defensive back of the year.

He was a member of the team of
heartbreak: The Raiders owned the 1970s, with the best winning percentage from
1969 to 1976. Still, they could never break through. In the playoffs, they
consistently lost to the eventual Super Bowl Champions, usually Miami or

Instead of being known for those things, the Raider players
were known as a dirty team of cast offs and felons, an image codified by their
maverick owner Al Davis and their colors of silver and black.

He wasn’t a felon, but Tatum was a killer to say the least.

In his first NFL game, he knocked not one but two of the
Baltimore Colt tight ends out of the game.He drilled Sammy White so hard in
Super Bowl XI that White’s helmet came flying off.

In a day and age of guys who hit first and asked questions
later, Tatum separated himself from the pack.

In a time in which the Oakland Raiders were viewed as
outlaws, The Assassin spread fear in receivers more than any other man.

Unfortunately, the lasting image of Tatum isn’t of his Super Bowl hit or
even his hit on Frenchy Fuqua that triggered the “Immaculate Reception.” It is
the hit that didn’t even count on the stat sheets.

In a pre-season game against the New England Patriots, he
hit a leaping Darryl Stingley and crushed Stingley’s spine
. Stingley was
paralyzed from his chest down for the rest of his life.

The two men never spoke from that day until the day Stingley
died in 2007. Tatum refused to play up the incident to enhance his image, nor
did he play it down when people asked why he never apologized. Over the years
he explained that there was a difference between sadness and guilt.

He felt sad
about what happened to Stingley. Guilt would imply he had done something wrong on a play that didn’t even draw a penalty flag.


Later in life, Tatum’s health began to fail.He fought
diabetes, losing all the toes on his left foot after a staph infection set in.
He also lost his right leg to an arterial blockage and was fitted with a
prosthetic limb. It was as if God were claiming him one piece at a time.

When I met him in that casino, it was before he started
going down hill.

He had a reputation of being a killer on the field and did
little to disabuse people of that notion. He wrote three books: They Call Me
Assassin, They Still Call Me Assassin and Final Confessions of NFL Assassin
Jack Tatum.

I knew about Stingley and I’d met more than my share of
athletes. Most of the ones who people REALLY knew about tended to fall into the
Tired Legend or Bitter Legend category. They’d answered the same question
87,354,253 times and didn’t want to answer it anymore. They were here for a
paycheck and that was about it.

Tatum was one of those rare exceptions: a kind man who was
signing for almost no money. The line was fairly decent, but he never seemed

When I talked with him a bit, I got the sense he was
comfortable in his own skin. He was working with various diabetes foundations
at the time and still loved his fans.

He signed an autograph that was longer than about half the
essays I get from my students. He personalized it to me, added a personal
message, his name, his nickname and his number. He then posed for a couple
pictures. When Dad’s turn came up, he did the same thing. He probably would
have spent the rest of the day with us had his handler not pushed the line

As we put our stuff away and packed up for home, I looked
back at him. He was chatting with a lady who’d brought a book for him to sign
and the woman’s male companion who had a Raiders helmet. The helmet was covered
in autographs from the Super Bowl team and Tatum was talking about each guy who
had signed. They all laughed and smiled as he reveled in sharing their moment
with him.

In thinking about this today after I heard he died, I
realized I was happy I didn’t get what I had expected that day.

I expected the legend.

Instead, I was grateful to have met the man.

Support for News Culture

A tale of two Romenesko-featured stories that make me want to say fuck it, spend the day on the beach, and hope a magic dolphin arises from the waters and carries me off to FUCKING DROWN.

First, if we don’t all uncritically love newspapers, our only other choice is some total douchemook:

A note to the notably angry, sarcastic American, the “snarlygaster”
who, in letters to this columnist or in postings on
talk forums, expresses glee at the troubles of the U.S. newspaper
industry and the hope that the nation’s dailies disappear:

Be careful what you wish for. You may end up with Andrew Breitbart.


Daily newspapers make mistakes. They usually deal with the basic facts
of stories — the title someone once held, the name of a suspect in a
criminal matter — and corrections appear in print every day. Newspapers
have had some reporters and columnists who made stuff up (years ago, aWashington Post reporter won a Pulitzer for a fabricated story) or copied the work of others. Those people were all fired.

Had any producer at a local TV station, network or cable newsroom
cobbled together a video like the one Mr. Breitbart posted of Ms.
Sherrod, that producer would be among the nation’s unemployed today.

At least until CNN, Fox or the Washington Post picked them up as regular commentators because of their unerring instinct for igniting firestorms of controversy and getting people talking about phenomenony phenomenal things! Fingers! On the pulse of stuff! Oh, sure, they’d spend a few minutes in the wilderness, but really:

Miller will be an on-air analyst and will write for Fox’s Web site.
“She has a very impressive resumé,” says Senior Vice President John
Moody. “We’ve all had stories that didn’t come out exactly as we had
hoped. It’s certainly something she’s going to be associated with for
all time, and there’s not much anyone can do about that, but we want to
make use of the tremendous expertise she brings on a lot of other
issues. . . . She has explained herself and she has nothing to
apologize for.”

From the Sun story:

Only with public support of a news culture grounded in the fundamentals
of journalism — solid reporting, fair and informed analysis, respect
for the truth and the public good — does this democracy survive.
Settling for less means settling for Andrew Breitbart.

Yeah, about that news culture of decency and truth being ruined by all us unwashed Internet assholes:

The court-appointed examiner inTribune Co.‘s
Chapter 11 bankruptcy case determined that the company’s 2007 leveraged
buyout was “marred” by the “dishonesty and lack of candor” of its
then-senior management and that the deal rendered the media
conglomerate insolvent from the moment the two-step transaction closed.

So our only other choice is Andrew Breitbart?

Is death an option?



That Old Devil Called Tony

He may be on his way out as BP’s CEO but Wayward Hayward’s foot and mouth have been reunited incomments made to the British press:

BP formally confirmed today that it hadaxed its boss Tony Hayward in an attempt to appease mounting anger in the US but risked undermining the move by insisting it had been a “model ofcorporate social responsibility“.

further comments unlikely to go down well in Washington, Hayward said
he had been “demonised” in the US, adding that he might be “too busy”
to attend future US hearings into the disastrous Gulf oil spill.

Explaining his decision
to leave the group he has led for three-and-a-half years, Hayward said:
“I believe this tragedy will leave BP a different company. I believe
for it to move on in the United States it needs new leadership and it
is for that reason I have stood down as the CEO. I think BP’s response
to this tragedy has been a model of good social corporate
responsibility. It has mounted an unprecedented response.”

Tony, I thought the idea of your stepping down was to change the
perception of BP in the US and A, which means that you should STFU.
It’s all cosmetic anyway asStephanie Grace pointed out in her column in today’s Picayune:

behavior since the spill has cast him as public enemy No. 1, but,
ironically, it’s also made him an ideal fall guy for his troubled
company. As such, his inevitable departure is meant to turn the page,
to wipe BP’s slate at least somewhat clean.

the problem with that scenario: Hayward wasn’t hired to have all the
answers or to come off as a nice, sympathetic guy. His charge when he
took the job three years ago was to change the corporate culture, to
focus “like a laser” on making BP’s operations safe.

that all-important mission, Hayward failed spectacularly, and we’ll all
be grappling with the consequences long after he exists the scene.

appears to be convinced that it can PR its way out of this mess. I hope
they’re wrong but people’s memories are short so eventually we’ll get
back to the really vital stories like thebarracking amongst pols aboutJersey Shore. I’ve never seen the show myself: one trashy show about Jerseyites is more than enough for me:

p align=”center” class=”asset asset-video” style=”margin: 0pt auto; display: block;”>

p>Cross-posted at Adrastos.

Small Town News

Small town newspapers crack me up. In the midst of the BP
oiltastrophe, the Houma, Louisiana paper found time to run a feature
that should have been called Local Woman Has Blog. I
got the link from my friend Kevin and I kept waiting for there to be
some sort of point to the piece but in the end it’s about some nice
woman who writes a mommy blog who has fallen behind in her scrap
booking. Bloggers are, apparently, everywhere; perhaps even next door…

That’s small town news, Terrebonne Parish style, for today.

Make the Decisions, CNN

This, so much:

CNN’s unexpected success in covering the Gulf War led to an American
love affair with twenty-four-hour-a-day news, but, only a decade later,
a CNN foreign correspondent told Ken Auletta, when he was working on a
biography of Ted Turner, that news editors at the network ” ‘equate
serious with boring.’ ” Executives told him that “there was no big news
overseas,” which Auletta interpreted as another way of saying that “in
order to get ratings, we need wars or some kind of crisis.” Of course,
there are crises all the time, everywhere, but to cover them properly
you have to decide that it’s important to cover them, and damn the
ratings. All the organizations that have cut back their staffs in
recent years are rich enough to cover the world. (Let’s not forget that
the three broadcast networks are able to pay their anchorpersons a
combined forty million dollars a year.) CNN is owned by Time Warner;
though the company’s revenues went down by eight hundred million
dollars between 2007 and 2009, it still managed a profit of nearly five
billion dollars last year, and CNN, despite dreadful prime-time
ratings, had its best year ever.

It’s all there. This is what continues to infuriate me about the way people at the top of the trade behave: All the tools are there to do what everybody agrees needs to be done, and yet here we sit.

The money is there. The expertise is, if not there right now, impossibly easy to find (just take six or seven of any of the cast-off newspaper journalists in every given city and don’t worry so much about if they’re prom queens because people like schlubby news junkies and if they didn’t I wouldn’t get hit on at parties). The stories, God almighty, the stories are there. They’re all out there waiting for you to just dig your claws in and rake them apart. The world is a fucking gorgeous nasty snake pit of glory for the storyteller, always has been always will be, so the stories are there.

Everything is there to get the job done that everyone agrees needs to get done. And yet it doesn’t get done.

And you know, I’m past blaming the audience (stoopit kids reading Perez Hilton), and I’m past blaming the tools (print is dead), and I’m past blaming the economy (ooh, car dealerships aren’t advertising as much) and I’m so far past blaming the Internet I can’t even remember its name. When we look back at this supposed journalism “crisis” we will marvel at how easy it would have been to say fuck the supposedly inevitable, let’s do what we want and cover what we want and let people come or not come as they please. In the history of the world, has passionate, determined pursuit of one’s clearly stated goals in service of decency and truth ever been a losing strategy? Yet we’ll marvel, we will, at how determinedly we did not do that, how we avoided it at every turn and found ways to twist ourselves into rhetorical knots to make out like there was some other path we were bound to, but the right one.

Make the decisions. Look at the positively giganto piles of money you could roll around in like Scrooge McDuck if you wanted to do that, and decide to spend it on what you say matters to you. Just be who you wanted to be when you grew up. It isn’t that hard. Okay, it’s horrendously hard, but on balance it is not harder than making your whole life about why you aren’t the person you wanted to be and why you don’t have the life you wanted to have. That, and believe me I speak from experience, isexhausting. Everyone I know who has had their soul sucked out had it happen as a result of a moment when they knew the right thing to do, and did the opposite. This is the same thing. They’ll make a pile of excuses and every last one of them will be some desperate attempt not to do what they know in their bones needs to be done.

Blaming the audience, the economy, the medium, the Internet … it takes precisely and exactly the same amount of time to just NOT SUCK, so why don’t we do that? The money, the stories, the people are there.

Here we sit.



Happy Kerry Photo: Suck It Up Edition



“However illegally these documents came to light, they raise serious
questions about the reality of America’s policy toward Pakistan and
Afghanistan. Those policies are at a critical stage and these documents
may very well underscore the stakes and make the calibrations needed to
get the policy right more urgent.”

And to peoplewhining who should know better:

“The United States strongly condemns the disclosure of classified
information by individuals and organizations which could put the lives
of Americans and our partners at risk, and threaten our national
security,” National Security Adviser Gen. Jim Jones said in a
statement. “Wikileaks made no effort to contact us about these
documents – the United States government learned from news
organizations that these documents would be posted.”

Oh, God Almighty, calm down. Your president got elected on the premise that the war was fucked up and he’d have to unfuck it. It’s not like you didn’t know this stuff. And to be allI do declare Miss Scarlett about the rest of the American public getting to know this stuff strains credulity and moves the focus from what could have been, “Yeah, this is why you elected us, to fix this shit” to “no no no no bad journalism!” is just amateurish. Anyone paying attention knows how this works.

Surprise us, wouldja, and for once deal with the substance instead of the bunting it’s wrapped in?



What? No Mustard?

Photo by Timothy A. Clary AFP/Getty Images

p>Posh boy and British Prime Minister David (Just call me Dave) Cameron indulged in somestreet food on his visit to the US and A last week. Cameron likes to pass himself off as a man of the people despite his Eton and Oxbridge background but the “small people” tend to put mustard on their hot dogs. I asked my favorite Lucky Dog vendor, Harold, what he thought about this and he said: “Well, at least it’s not ketchup. That belongs on burgers, not dogs.”

There you have it: Cameron. Hot Dog. Fail.

In Which I Defend Andrew Breitbart

No, really.Because it’s Mitch Fucking Albom:

But Breitbart lit the fire. He blew on the flames. As Sherrod would later tell CNN, “He knew exactly what would happen.”

Breitbart is where this sad story begins, where the blame lies and
where the punishment should be doled out — if there were any you could
dole out.

Sadly, how do you punish a blogger like Breitbart? He
simply slithers back into the muck that some confuse with journalism.
Who does he have to answer to?



“I believe that I’m held to a higher standard,” Breitbart told
Politico. “If this video showed a picture of a caucasian talking in the
exact same way but talking about a black person with an audience
affirming and clapping that behavior, the reporter would be getting a
Pulitzer Prize right now.”

Response: 1) No, he wouldn’t. 2) Showing an edited video is not “reporting.” 3) You, Breitbart, are not held toany standard.

And that’s the problem.

This middlebrow schmaltz-merchant spends most of his column calling Breitbart an asshole, but these are the parts I’d like to focus on, because once again, it’s not about what Breitbart does or doesn’t do. This is America. He has the right to be as big a douchecanoe as he can possibly be. That’s on him, as will be the eventual lawsuit. You know what’s not on him? The decision to listen to his bullshit and take action based on it.

Let’s be clear about this: He didn’t put a gun to Tom Vilsack’s head and make him fire Shirley Sherrod. He didn’t put a gun to the heads of the assignment editors of the TV talking heads and make them jump all over the story like a bunch of teenage girls screaming about the quarterback’s abs. He didn’t do anything but what he and countless other conservative bloggers do every day, which is to peddle absolute horseshit and then whine when nobody kisses their asses for it.

So bitching that HE isn’t held to a standard is ridiculous. Better to hold the people to whom standards are supposedly their stock in trade to some. How do you punish a blogger like Breitbart, American media? Instead of taking away his Magical Internet Bullshitting License, you could just … ignore the next piece of bullshit he comes up with. You could just have those standards yourself, and not worry so much about what standards someone else has.



Today on Tommy T’s Obsession with the Freeperati – Bad Week at Black Rock edition

p>Good morning, gentle people!

Well, take comfort in the knowledge that however crappy your week was, it was better than the week the Freeperati had. Suits on, everybody – it’s gonna get nasty.

Just to start the week out right – Sue – weeeee!!!‏

p>Conservative website among 3 sued over R-J copyrights (Free Republic sued AGAIN)

Las Vegas Sun ^

| Tuesday, July 20, 2010 | 9:12 a.m.
| By Steve Green

Posted onTuesday, July 20, 2010 1:52:30 PM byLazamataz

A conservative news-sharing website with plenty of experience in
dealing with copyright issues has been sued for copyright infringement
after Las Vegas Review-Journal stories allegedly were posted on its

Free Republic LLC, James C. Robinson and John Robinson, who
are associated with the website in Fresno, Calif.,
were sued in federal court in Las Vegas on Monday over the postings.


Don’t see how this can happen, with the technology we have in place.
Looks like Messr. Reid is attempting a shutdown of his critics.

posted onTuesday, July 20, 2010 1:52:32 PM

Yep – there’s no flight of paranoia too deep for the Freeperati.

Apparently, Harry Reidowns the newspaper. Or at least he controls its legal department with his Jedi mind tricks.

To: Jim Robinson; John Robinson; kristinn

Here we go again. Grrrr.

posted onTuesday, July 20, 2010 1:53:17 PM
(“We beat the Soviet Union. Then we became them.” — Lazamataz, 2005)


To: Lazamataz


posted onTuesday, July 20, 2010 1:53:46 PM
byJim Robinson


To: Lazamataz

Might be a good time for people to make a donation.

posted onTuesday, July 20, 2010 1:54:00 PM
(I could eat it raw, but why do that when I have a fire.)

Or maybe juststop breaking the goddamned law!

/Jim Carrey

To: Lazamataz

The Democratic Party of Nevada was sued for copyright
infringement Friday after Las Vegas Review-Journal stories allegedly
were posted on its website without authorization this spring.

posted onTuesday, July 20, 2010 1:56:17 PM
(“Conservatism is the antidote to tyranny…its principles are the founding principles.” – M. Levin)

Damn you, Harry Reid! You and your wheels within wheels! What a clever ploy.

To: Lazamataz

We’ve won before….

posted onTuesday, July 20, 2010 1:56:20 PM
(Proud member of the Republican wing of the Republican Party)

Um, no.

No you didn’t.

L.A. Times v. Free Republic is a 1998 United States district court copyright law case. Severalnewspaperssued theInternet forumFree Republic for allowing its users to repost the full text ofcopyrighted newspaper articles, asserting that this constituted copyright infringement. Free Republic claimed that they under thedoctrine offair use and theFirst Amendment guarantee offreedom of speech the reposting of articles were notliable. Thefederal courts ruled in favor of the newspapers.


The defendants waived their remaining defenses andstipulated to the entry of final judgment in district court with a stay on execution, preserving their right to appeal to theUnited States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit
only on fair use and First Amendment grounds. The stipulation that
defendants agreed to on November 16, 2000, gave plaintiffs a permanent
injunction against posting full-text versions of copyrighted materials,
ordered archived articles be removed, and awarded the plaintiffs $1
million in damages, but noattorney’s fees. Robinson claimed to be judgment-proof, saying “Practically speaking, we were alreadybankrupt long before any of this got started. We just did not have, and still do not have any assets to protect…”

If that is winning, what does losing look like?

To: Lazamataz

We have complied with every copyright request received.

posted onTuesday, July 20, 2010 2:06:07 PM
byJim Robinson

And paid them the money they got awarded. Sulky little bitch, aintcha?

And now –best post of the thread!!

To: Lazamataz

Is Orly Taitz available?

posted onTuesday, July 20, 2010 2:08:16 PM
byCyber Liberty
(Build a man a fire; he’ll be warm for a night. Set a man on fire; he’ll be warm the rest of his life)

Hooold tha rimshots!

More on the Freepers’ Very Bad Week after the flying leap.

Tagged , , ,

These Kids Today with their Playgirl Centerfolds and Filthy Whore Babies

America’s nosy neighbor lady peers through the blinds again and is shocked, SHOCKED, that we no longer ship unwed mothers off to homes for whores anymore:

One can laugh at and with them, if only because the American
“celebrity” that surrounds them like smothering arms at times is so
patently absurd and even pitiful, as proud unwed mothers and unwed
fathers display their children before the world. But in the final
laugh, it isn’t very funny at all. Unwed mother spokeswoman Bristol and
Playgirl centerfold Levi are the most disastrous examples the U.S.
could provide for young people today — and the problems have only begun.

(I will admit to a soft spot for Bristol Palin. During the campaign I thought she should come over to my house and I would feed her and her dopey boyfriend and we’d talk about everything BUT how she was a whore and a bad example. It’s hard enough being a teenager, without all your mistakes being dissected on CNN. Plus, her mom seems like kind of a drag. I felt this way about Jenna Bush, too. If all the stupid shit I did in my early 20s was on TV I’d STILL be grounded.)

So let’s have a go at this. First of all, the U.S. is not providing them as examples. They’re people living their fucked-up snowbilly circus lives as best they probably can, and magazines are offering them lots of money for photos of their baby and each other. You are free not to buy US Weekly or whatever, to turn off Access Hollywood, to ignore all this shit and thus avoid feeling put upon and concerned about Our Children. Unless, of course, you have a column due and need to bag on callow youth to meet your deadline.

The big change — the serious transformation — lies in the sharp
increase in male teens’ attitudes about having babies out of wedlock.
Between 2002 and 2007, for instance, the percentage of boys who did not
have sexual relations with girls because of fear of pregnancy fell by
half, to 12 percent from 25 percent, indicating, the spokesman said, a
newly “cavalier attitude” about unwed pregnancy on the part of young

Nor are the indications positive for girls. Journalist and
TV hostess Bonnie Erbe revealed recently that 17 percent of young
American women depend upon the famously undependable rhythm method (the
Vatican’s favorite), which fails 25 percent of the time.

what we are seeing across the board is a landslide of irresponsibility
that is worst among young males, but is certainly not limited to them.
What we are seeing is a world without shame.

Yes, and shame would be so much better a method of birth control than, say, CONDOMS.

It would be interesting if Bristol and Levi could tell us sometime what
exactly it was that made them — a couple who obviously had every
capacity for exploring and using any kind of birth control — so
careless about their and others’ lives. Bristol has talked publicly
about how difficult it was being a single mother, but she did not, so
far as I have seen, address the more sobering initial problem. As for
Levi, he was so busy showing off his body and thinking up insulting
zingers to getSarah Palin that he said nothing at all about what he had so carelessly done.

Well, and that would have led to a discussion about uber-religious loonies who think the sight of a Trojans box is going to provoke middle schoolers into orgies, which certainly isn’t something we want, now is it? It’s more than just birth control being “available” to wealthy teens. They have to be taught and encouraged to USE it, and we all know how Jesus feels about the pill.

He probably hates it even more than he hates Playgirl.


Saturday Night Music

Bonnie is something of a bust thus far, I’m relieved to say. Folks in the midwest got more rain today than we did. This tune’s for them:

Weekend Question Thread

What was the first concert you ever attended?


Saturday Blogwhoring Thread


Post away.



The Onion or Politico?

Headline of the day:Hayworth Ties McCain To Obama.

Sound like a winning strategy to you? Or is it some weird Tailhook inspired game?

Enquiring minds want to know…



Death to the Trend Story

WHOOMP there it is!

1.Online Dating Grows, Sheds Its Stigma.”

Next: Tattoos not just for sailors anymore.


The MSM: Yesterday’s trends tomorrow.


Friday Ferretblogging: Tricks

Some friends recently went on a cable-access show and demonstrated how they taught their ferrets to roll over on command for treats. I haven’t gotten there with Bucky yet, but he does sit up and beg pretty well:



Generation ‘Dryl

I read this about four times, hoping that in some way, by
clicking on some link, this would take me to The Onion’s home page and that
this whole thing would be a prank. Apparently not.

Not only are parents drugging their kids with Benadryl,
cough syrup and other over-the-counter meds when the kids don’t need them, but
they are doing in because the kids have “become too much to handle.”So many parents have taken to medicating
their kids in this way that doctors could put together a large enough sample to
conduct research on the phenomenon.

According to a study in the Journal of Pediatrics, almost
1,500 cases this abusive act occurred between 2000 and 2008. And those are only
the ones that the researcher found and examined. Something tells me this is
like roaches: see one and you know you’ve got hundreds more hiding.

Parents were likely to use the drugs to keep kids quiet on
long car trips, airplane rides or when they just needed some peace and quiet.
Approximately 14 percent of the kids studied were hurt and 18 of them died as a
result of Mommy or Daddy needing some “down time,” the results showed.

If we ever wondered why kids seem to be more and more fucked
up, this is probably a good place to start.

When you’re shooting your toddler up with cold medicine at
age 2, pumping them full of Ritalin at age 5, slapping anti-depressants on them
by age 10 and so forth, is it any wonder they see medicine as a cure all?

When it comes to real medical needs, I have no problem with
meds. We’ve given The Midget cough syrup before when she’s sick and Mom has
taught classrooms full of kids who really NEED Ritalin to stay focused. Totally

However, as much as I like peace and quiet on a long car
ride, I’m not going to install a Cryogenic chamber in the back of the Civic and
use it to freeze dry my kid until we get to Milwaukee.

Instead, we find things that can help time on the ride to
Gramma’s house pass easier.

We always have a car bag for The Midget: Snacks, water,
books, toys and more go in there. When things get beyond the bag, we’ve got kid
apps the Missus downloaded on to her iPhone. And yes, if The Midget gets tired,
she actually falls asleep.

When she gets too twitchy or loud, we actually tell her to
knock it off and there are consequences for failing to do so. It’s not that

I’ve said this a million times before: Be a fucking parent.

And parenting doesn’t start by pushing a medicinal snooze
button on your kids.