Category Archives: Jude

More Adventures In Social Media; or, Please Let Me Find Out That I’m Adopted


Apparently, this is George Clinton’s DNA; I don’t think you or I are funky enough to have major AND a minor groove in all of our cell nuclei.Via.

In my ongoing quest to get disinvited from all future family reunions, I’ve started responding to moronic things that relations post on line. If you know anything about my family, you’re probably thinking that I’ll need to take a sabbatical from work for a while if this hobby is going to continue.

Today’s idiocy comes from a first cousin, with a special guest appearance from my older brother (they are anonymized in red and yellow, respectively. Behold!



Logic is your friend. Well, my friend, anyway.

Not to defend the person in the original accusation–if indeed that is true, and I’m betting it’s not–but I just don’t get the goddamn mental disconnect here. Then again, there’s a lot about zealots that I don’t understand.

I fully expect to be de-friended by almost all family members by election day. I can only imagine that I will cry myself to sleep every night after that happens. Anyway, my current working theory is that I was switched with another baby in the hospital when I was an infant; there’s pretty much no other way to explain how I have so little in common with so much of my family.

One final note: Of all my relatives that I know are conservative, pro-war, pro-gun, and (so they assume) pro-military, precisely zero of them were in any branch of the armed forces. The two of us who are liberal (myself and my younger brother) both did hitches as enlisted folks. Make of that what you will.

Adventures In Social Media; or, Dear Meteor, Come Quickly


Ah. Vesta. You’ll do nicely.Via.

Hey there, good people. I know it’s been a while since I’ve been by here, but, you know, life keeps us busy. Until we get a sick day! Then it’s time to catch up on all the crazy you’ve seen for a while, and maybe–just maybe–to write a thing or two about it. First of all, here’s hoping the effects of Hurricane Sandy won’t be as bad as advertised, and that those people without power and water get those services reconnected pronto. Now–on to the adventure.

I begin, as many such stories of crazy do, with my family. Specifically, one of my first cousins. She’s a full-on Vatican fetus-sniffer. She’s always posting crazy anti-choice shit with the oh-so-clever tag “RESPECT LIFE.” Then it’s a link to “GodVine” or “LifeNews” or some other completely reputable source about, oh, aborted fetuses being burned in a regular incinerator at a hospital as opposed to a crematorium at a funeral facility.As if that makes half a fuck’s worth of difference. I mean, they’re not alive, right? Who give a shit what you do with the remains? I know some people are more sensitive about corpses than I am, but it’s not like they’re turning them into cat food–they’re doing the exact same thing, just in an incinerator that at other times burns trash. Well, I don’t begin to understand the mind of the religious fanatic. In fact, to show all you good people exactly what I mean, let’s go to a screencap, shall we?


Well. That’s pretty self-explanatory.


Somehow, I resisted the urge to post anything in reply–anything like, say, “Romans 3:23” or “Matthew 7:1.” I also managed not to call her an astonishingly arrogant asshole for presuming to be the arbiter of who is and is not a “serious” Catholic. Does that mean you can’t ever tell a joke about god? What about if you go to a Catholic school or university, and there’s a cafeteria there? Do you get to go in? Or do you have to subsist on that little cracker they gave you in the chapel? While that would do a lot for obesity in this country, I’m not sure that’d be okay with Jesus–I mean, after all, “Man shall not live by bread alone,” right? Anyway, I didn’t comment, because getting in a theological discussion with a zealot is a lot like pissing up a rope, but you don’t get to get the relief of emptying your bladder.

A further word about this cousin: this
is a person who unfailingly supports the Republican Party. While one
may find one’s own reasons for doing so, one can’t back a party that is
disdainful of the poor, supports the death penalty, works to increase
income inequality,
and relentlessly warmongers and then call oneself a “serious” Catholic
who agrees with all of Holy Mother Church’s teachings. What you have
here is just garden-variety hypocrisy.

So, I passed that one by, but this is getting a little long, so why not have a jump? Trust me, people–you will want to hit that link.

Continue reading

Adventures In Social Media; or, Dear Meteor, Come Quickly


Ah. Vesta. You’ll do nicely.Via.

Hey there, good people. I know it’s been a while since I’ve been by here, but, you know, life keeps us busy. Until we get a sick day! Then it’s time to catch up on all the crazy you’ve seen for a while, and maybe–just maybe–to write a thing or two about it. First of all, here’s hoping the effects of Hurricane Sandy won’t be as bad as advertised, and that those people without power and water get those services reconnected pronto. Now–on to the adventure.

I begin, as many such stories of crazy do, with my family. Specifically, one of my first cousins. She’s a full-on Vatican fetus-sniffer. She’s always posting crazy anti-choice shit with the oh-so-clever tag “RESPECT LIFE.” Then it’s a link to “GodVine” or “LifeNews” or some other completely reputable source about, oh, aborted fetuses being burned in a regular incinerator at a hospital as opposed to a crematorium at a funeral facility.As if that makes half a fuck’s worth of difference. I mean, they’re not alive, right? Who give a shit what you do with the remains? I know some people are more sensitive about corpses than I am, but it’s not like they’re turning them into cat food–they’re doing the exact same thing, just in an incinerator that at other times burns trash. Well, I don’t begin to understand the mind of the religious fanatic. In fact, to show all you good people exactly what I mean, let’s go to a screencap, shall we?


Well. That’s pretty self-explanatory.


Somehow, I resisted the urge to post anything in reply–anything like, say, “Romans 3:23” or “Matthew 7:1.” I also managed not to call her an astonishingly arrogant asshole for presuming to be the arbiter of who is and is not a “serious” Catholic. Does that mean you can’t ever tell a joke about god? What about if you go to a Catholic school or university, and there’s a cafeteria there? Do you get to go in? Or do you have to subsist on that little cracker they gave you in the chapel? While that would do a lot for obesity in this country, I’m not sure that’d be okay with Jesus–I mean, after all, “Man shall not live by bread alone,” right? Anyway, I didn’t comment, because getting in a theological discussion with a zealot is a lot like pissing up a rope, but you don’t get to get the relief of emptying your bladder.

A further word about this cousin: this
is a person who unfailingly supports the Republican Party. While one
may find one’s own reasons for doing so, one can’t back a party that is
disdainful of the poor, supports the death penalty, works to increase
income inequality,
and relentlessly warmongers and then call oneself a “serious” Catholic
who agrees with all of Holy Mother Church’s teachings. What you have
here is just garden-variety hypocrisy.

So, I passed that one by, but this is getting a little long, so why not have a jump? Trust me, people–you will want to hit that link.

Continue reading

Today In Scab History

What in the ever-loving fuck was that. Just–what was that?

Today In Scab History

What in the ever-loving fuck was that. Just–what was that?

Because I Can

And I’m awesome:


So awesome.

Because I Can

And I’m awesome:


So awesome.

The War’s Never Over

Never.

Ever.

As part of my job, I talked to a young man today who had recently been fired. He is 26 years old. We sent him to Iraq when he was 19 years old. Yes, “we.” You and I. Everyone who lives in the United States of America sent him there. And he got broken. Ruined. He has post-traumatic stress disorder and a traumatic brain injury that you and I are responsible for. He did not incur those injuries defending our freedoms, or securing weapons of mass destruction, or “fighting them there so we won’t have to fight them here,” or any of the other reasons we were told that we had to send young men and women to Iraq.

No.

We sent him to go get ruined for the biggest bunch of bullshit I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

And ruined is exactly what he is. He got fired from a job for some chickenshit reason. That was the longest employment he’d had since returning to the States in 2006. He’d worked there 17 months. He can’t remember things on a day-to-day basis. He has problems dealing with what most of us would think are simple situations. He gets very nervous when he hears sudden, loud noises. And his wife has to help him with what you and I would think are simple tasks.

We did this to him. We ruined him. We destroyed his life and the lives of those who care for him and deal with his disabilities on a daily basis.

That’s on us. We simply cannot put him back together again, because what was broken is no longer something that can be reassembled. And we did that. We let people send him, and thousands of men and women like him, to a pointless war. We did that because people thought that we needed to look strong, or that there wasn’t any appreciable difference between electoral choices, or that we just needed to teach Those People In That Part Of The World a lesson.

But we ruined that man. And his wife. And his parents. And his siblings, cousins, in-laws, and everyone else who has been personally touched by this fucking ridiculously unnecessary problem. Us. We did that. I’m not saying that he’s a hero, or a “wounded warrior,” or any other stupid platitude we use to refer to the people we ship off to fight our stupid wars.

What I am saying is that if we, as a people, hadn’t decided that there wasn’t a difference between Bush and Gore, or that we needed to “send a message to the Arab street” after 9/11, or that Saddam Hussein (a secular dictator who imprisoned and killed people we would refer to as “Islamic extremists”) was in cahoots with Osama bin Laden (an Islamic fundamentalist who thought Saddam Hussein was an affront to Islam), then this man wouldn’t be in the situation he is today. He probably wouldn’t be reviewing his investment portfolio, and he might be looking at four years upstate for a stupid felony, but that doesn’t matter–we didn’t give him those choices, because we took those options from him.

Yes, that’s right. We created a society where this bullshit outcome was not only possible for some people, but likely. And that makes me sick. I drove to work today, and I had to stop on the way home, open the door, and puke on the road. Because this shit makes me sick.

I’m sick to fucking death of dealing with the people that we have broken, or given up on, or just never even acknowledged existed in the first fucking place. Not because that work isn’t important, but because it never ends. Because we refuse to acknowledge that we are all in this together, and to see that, as the boss so eloquently says, your fate is our fate. That’s what makes me despair. And to see that we have a large percentage of the population that has decided that these people–the people who live nearby, that serve you food, or drive you places, or clean your hotel rooms, or pick your orders, or do any of a thousand other tasks that are necessary to the functioning of a society–not that they don’t matter, but that they are somehow taking shit that is yours that doesn’t belong to them–that just makes me want to go to the liquor store, buy all the whiskey that I can afford, and go outside and drink until I’m dead.

Maybe I’m just a little too drunk to make sense tonight, but that’s what I’ve got to say. Be well, everyone, and take care of your fellow people. That’s all you can do that matters worth half a shit in this world.

Merry Christmas, You Bastards


Someone please make sure that Questlove wins the Grammy for entertainer of the year. Seriously. He’s so awesome.

Okay, I don’t really give a rat’s ass about Xmas, and I can’t stand being around children, but even I thought this was cute.

Enjoy the non-wintry start of winter, everyone.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


Picture via WWL.com

Jesus, this sucks. The Hubig’s Pie factory burned to the ground today.

What a pisser.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


Picture via WWL.com

Jesus, this sucks. TheHubig’s Pie factory burned to the ground today.

What a pisser.

Just A Thought


This is a 100-round magazine for 5.56 x 45 mm ammunition.

You do not need that. No one outside of an infantry engagement needs that.

 

That is all.*

 

*Cue gun fetishists telling me that I don’t know what I’m talking about, others accusing me of wanting the eeevil gub’mint to enslave us all, others saying that I’m a traitor to the Constitution, and still others rationalizing that this maniac would have murdered a dozen people with Matchbox cars if he hadn’t had 100 rounds of .223 Remington ammo at his disposal. Yes, I’ve been down this road before.

Just A Thought


This is a 100-round magazine for 5.56 x 45 mm ammunition.

You do not need that. No one outside of an infantry engagement needs that.

 

That is all.*

 

*Cue gun fetishists telling me that I don’t know what I’m talking about, others accusing me of wanting the eeevil gub’mint to enslave us all, others saying that I’m a traitor to the Constitution, and still others rationalizing that this maniac would have murdered a dozen people with Matchbox cars if he hadn’t had 100 rounds of .223 Remington ammo at his disposal. Yes, I’ve been down this road before.

Just A Reminder


Yep. Power in a union.

Remember–this happened. And that energy, and that power, is still out there. We’ve had some wins lately, and a lot more losses, but the people are still there, and will always, when push comes to shove, tell the powerful where to stick it.

Further Adventures In Social Media; or, We Just Can’t Be Educated


Instead of engaging these dopes, I think I’m just going to have this. ALL OF THIS.

Well, I’m back for one more pre-election go with Adventures In Social Media. Please kill me now. Anyway, today I bring up an acquaintance from high school, who gives us the following:




I just stopped at this point.

Folks, that guy is under the impression that he was right. If there are any of you out there who think that this world can actually see a riot that “upholds violence,” please–take a few minutes to say goodbye to your family and friends, then swallow your cyanide pill.

And the hell of it is, I didn’t even bring up the RACIST AS FUCK underlying assumption. Hmmm…what could it possibly be about Obama supporters that would make these crackers think that they’re more prone to mindless violence. What could it be? What could they be assuming?

You know what they’re assuming–the same thing white folks have been assuming for almost half a millennium in this fucked-up part of the world. They assume that BLACK PEOPLE ARE NOT RATIONAL HUMANS. Period. End of story. End of fucking story. That’s been a constant trope for centuries now: the wild savage blood, the jungle lust, the frantic dancing and trance-like states of The Negro mean that they’re not nearly as intellectually advanced as us calm white folks. These people are so familiar with it they don’t even recognize it. You know, like how a fish is unaware of water. But the unstated assumption is just hanging there for anyone with eyes to see.

I didn’t even call them out, because they would instantly deny that they could ever think such a thing, and then I’d hear a chorus of how I’m the real racist because I think they’re racist, and I’d blow my fucking brains out.

So thus ends my pre-election jaunt through social media. It’s done a good job of convincing me that education is a lost cause. If you need me, I’ll be over by the liquor cabinet.

So It Begins


Indeed.

Well, today’s the day. Did you vote? I went for the anti-dickhead slate myself.

So It Begins


Indeed.

Well, today’s the day. Did you vote? I went for the anti-dickhead slate myself.

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things


For true.

So, as everyone in the world has noted by now, the President has affirmed his support for marriage equality.

This would seem to be, to borrow a phrase, a big fucking deal. It’s time for those of us on the progressive side of things to down a shot, do a victory lap, and shout WOOOOOOOO in the face of the nearest homophobe we can find (I’d suggest checking the glory hole in the local GOP clubhouse restroom).

But of course that can’t happen. At least 1/3 of the people commenting on my Facebook feed said something along the lines of “Finally” or “At last” or “Dick Cheney said this in 2004” or “His record on equal rights is abominable” or the like.

People: Enjoy this. It’s called victory, and it’s a big one. The goddamned President of the United States of goddamned America just publicly stated that he’s in favor of marriage equality. Of course he said that it should be a state matter, becausemarriage is a fucking state-by-state matter. DOMA is some unconstitutional bullshit that would get struck down by any SCOTUS that wasn’t peopled by the insane hacks that currently sit in five of the seats.

Yes, this should have happened sooner; really, it never should have been an issue at all. But we don’t live in a utopia. The fucking President of the United States is on the record as being on the correct side on this one.This has never happened for this issue before.

Smell that? It smells like victory. And wedding bouquets.