Archive for April, 2008
Not that I ever believed a word out of his pretty little mouth, but Barack Obama has gotten on my last long-suffering, its-fun-to-watch-them-implode nerve. There is a reason why he is doing so well against Hillary’s machine: he’s as cynical, jaded, ruthless and callous as the Clintons.
That people even attribute any doe-eyed optimism to the hope-change man baffles me. Obama just strikes me as hard and smooth–like the head of a hammer.
So rather than blab endlessly about this Chicago phenom, I’ll just link to what other, smarter people are saying and everyone is saying something. Oh! And that’s something else that bugs me. Do you notice how the whole Reverend Wright blab-fest keeps one name on everyone’s lips? Obama. Obama. Obama. It’s like musack to Obama’s ears. It doesn’t matter that what’s being said is bad–it just freaking great that everyone is talking about him. Makes me wonder if he’ll trump up a love child or past crack buddy just to keep his name front and center.
The Anchoress smells the Clintons. And did you know that Hillary is going to have to testify in a fraud case? Sigh. Obama and Clinton are the best the Dems can do.
Dan Collins is writing teh ghey love sonnets to Barack. It’s really quite sweet.
Rachel has the best headline. Duh! “Obama snaps his fingers and says,”Oh no you didn’t!” Oh yes, she did.
John Hawkins notes that the Kos Kidz are kalling Kobama (ok, that just got old) an Uncle Tom. Maybe I’m not so sick of Obama. This is fun!
Jim Hoft reports that Obama has turned to another suspicious character for love and wisdom. It all feels so Oprah. But hey, the new guy is white. Is Obama building his white cred, now?
Michelle Malkin on jive talkin’. Money quote, “It’s not Wright who has changed his loony tune.” I just thought it was time for some musical entertainment.
Yes, Beth, Obama does think we’re that stupid. He has from the beginning, though. And damn, if he hasn’t been right so far.
Ann Althouse reads the whole thing this way:
Surely, we’ll have a movie someday that will flesh all this out. Jeremiah and Barack. In my screenplay, Jeremiah the main character. He’s the one with the fire and the complex problems and emotions, the jealousy that turns him to villainous betrayal.
I don’t know. How betrayed can you feel when your bud’s stock in trade is vile venom? It seems to me to display an ignorance of human nature.
Enough for now. Update later.
You guys have known, for some time, that my blog husband is Brendan Loy. Yes, yes, we’ve discussed the minor detail that he’s married and spawned a cute little turnip with his wife, Becky. But whatever! Oh, and there’s the small issue that he’s jones’n for Obama. And oh yeah, he likes some Catholic team that sucks…can’t. place. the. team. Ah well, we have our minor differences and I ignore them, because, otherwise, Brendan is super fantastic and shares so many of my arcane interests it’s like we’re twins, but then, we couldn’t be blog married. That would just be nasty.
Watch out, Brendan, you have competition. I’m officially in love with Rachel Lucas. I’m shocked, too. Men have always been my thing, but sometimes, you just are caught unawares. You guys saw it coming, probably. The crash helmets for safety. The ebullient use of the word “fuck”. The insightful opinions on everything political. The crush became too much to hide when she made it first on my list of lady bloggers. Rachel is so much more than a super awesome blogger: she’s a super awesome TV watcher. She binge watches TV. She hears about good shows, ignores them and then gulps them down in a spasm of gluttony. All my life, I’ve traversed this little blue marble thinking I was the only, only one. And today I found my TV soul sister and I just feel….complete somehow.
I’ve binged watched TV shows multiple times. Only one show gave me gastronomic distress: Sex and the City. Like chocolates, the SATC episodes are meant to be taken one at a time over time. Watching them altogether made me physically ill, killed some IQ points and basically turned me into a cynic about all things women and single, but I digress. Back to Rachel and her awesomeness. She has finally decided to imbibe in the perfection that is Serenity and Firefly. She knows now, like Adam knew Eve, the sublime, frakking fantasticalness of Battlestar Galactica. And yes, she learned the way it’s best to learn (the way I learned, so of course it’s the best), by gulping them down whole. Here’s what she says:
So I decided to post about it, because I know some of you nerds watch that show and maybe sometimes you want a nice, safe place to go to where you can talk about Cylons and Lords of Kobol and frack and how intriguingly sexy President Roslin is. So here you go. You’re welcome.
UPDATE: I can’t believe I forgot to mention this, but guess what is driving me completely fucking bonkers? Check it out. About a year ago, I watched one episode of Firefly. Loved it, then got busy. At birthday time last week, I remembered it and how bad I NEED to see the whole series (one season! it’s a travesty!) and the Serenity movie, so I put them both on my Amazon Wish List. Both were bought (thank you, givers – you will be getting a personal card in the mail), and the Serenity disc has arrived, but not the Firefly disc!
Do you see my agonizing dilemma? It takes ALL MY WILL not to go ahead and watch the Serenity movie just to get my fill of Nathan Fillion and Summer Glau and Jewel Staite (I have serious borderline lesbionic crushes on those last two). But I know it will be better if I wait and watch Firefly first. So I am waiting, and it hurts. Hurts so bad.
You know, Rupert, I don’t want to frighten you, but you really picked a horrible time to decide to be called up by Uncle Sam and go serve in Iraq. I hear that you get a long weekend with Rachel coming up. You better make it count, buddy. I hope it’s comforting, to know that she’ll be well cared for–at least in cyber fantasy land.
Hey, don’t judge the love.
Plus, just to remind you guys of my dork cred:
Tigerhawk asks, “Is John McCain a cylon?” My only thing is this: Why’d they go and make a cylon with a faulty arm? Does it have some special fighting capability? Is the arm actually weaponized? That’s my theory. It’s not just an arm, it’s a diversion and a weapon. Makes him look old, but he could kill you. I believe that anyway. McCain scares me.
And there’s this about Joss Whedon’s possible misogyny. And if you’re not a big enough nerd to know who Whedon is, I guess I’ll just have to tell you. He’s the writer/director of Firefly and also of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
I’m sorry, mom. I really am sorry. Why couldn’t I be like other girls and watch Desperate Housewives? It’s a relief to be out of the closet.
Key word: player. I know a couple women who were baseball groupies. That is, they knew the players and carried on with certain men of certain teams. Two things seem to be par for the course, or is that home run for the field, in baseball: drugs and women.
I know, shocking. Athletes will do anything to get an edge and like living on the edge. It is the rare athlete who doesn’t do those things. It now seems like Roger Clemens wasn’t all that rare.
By the way, the woman pictured at left isn’t the woman he supposedly carried on with since she was 15. The woman pictured is his wife.
Do Neil Diamond’s songs not translate well? Simon was right about the first five. Ew to all of them.
Jason Castro’s soulful eyes cannot overcome his sucky, sappy vocals. Bleh.
David Cook. First, who does his hair because so splattered on the side of his head it’s distracting. But he does a great job with this song. He’s a rock star. Period.
Brooke needs to go. I’m sick of her. She has pretty blond hair and blue eyes that look they’ll cry all the time.
David Archuleta–Blech! And everyone loved him. Why? I don’t get it. I realize who he reminds me of: Rick Astly. Oh yeah, that’s him. Weird voice going with a little body.
Syesha needs to go too. She’s beautiful. She has a nice voice. She doesn’t stand out.
Here’s the order as I see it: 1) David Cook 2) David Archuleta 3) Jason Castro 4) Brooke White 5) Syesha Mercado.
UPDATE: Sister has some good stuff about AI.
I think I’m sick of American Idol again. (But Sister Honeybunch is in love.)
I told you peeps this a month ago, but you know it’s official when Dilbert agrees with you.
This was my thought exactly when I saw the Miley Cyrus aka Hannah Montana cover for Vanity Fair:
Last night, I decided to show the Vanity Fair photo to my daughter, because I knew she’d eventually hear about it from friends. Her reaction was what I expected from a third grader. “Mom, she doesn’t look that good,’’ she told me.
I agree, but for different reasons. To my daughter, Ms. Cyrus just looks unkempt without the trademark cute clothes and hair she sports on the Disney show “Hannah Montana.” But to me, the photo of a 15-year-old wrapped in a bed sheet with tousled hair has a disturbing Lolita quality.
She looks like she’s just recovering post-sex from a vigorous romp in the bed. I think that image is exactly what Ms. Cyrus and probably her parents, too, were going for. They want Miley to grow up and growing up in Hollywood land means morphing from childlike innocence into slut.
At fifteen, fifteen!, Miley isn’t a little girl anymore, but is she this image? It just feels wrong.
Even as a blogger, I tend to view them as mythical creatures. Bloggers are these special species of humans that think deeper thoughts, know more knowledge, and have secret access to cryptic information.
Today I met a real. live. blogger. Turns out that we live near one another, have very similar political philosophies and feel the same way about Jeremiah Wright. Of course, at this point, I’m pretty sure Barack Obama feels the same way about Jeremiah Wright as I do.
Will Obama’s backpedaling work? Kathleen says yes. Regrettably, after that delightful lunch, I’d like to agree with Ms. Sparkle, but I just can’t. Obama’s tap dancing is a little too little too late. Jeremiah Wright damaged him before and he hung in. Now, Wright has taken his narcissistic, hate-filled rants and pointed them at Obama. Obama can throw the “crazy uncle” under the bus, but it’s too late. Crazy Uncle did some major damage. It won’t hurt Obama in the primary. It will hurt him in the general.
By the way, do you think Hillary is paying Jeremiah Wright?
Yep. I got mumps. My husband and his brothers got mumps and we were all immunized. Here’s the study showing the biggest outbreak of mumps in recent American history and most of the people were immunized:
In a study reported in last week’s New England Journal of Medicine, researchers from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and several Midwestern state health departments examined the 6,584 cases in the Midwestern outbreak. They found that the incidence was four times higher among people 18 to 24 years old than in all other age groups combined. This was despite the fact that 84% of the mumps patients in that age group (and 63% of the patients overall) had received the recommended two doses of mumps vaccine.
Immunization does not confer 100% immunity. And the problem with this outbreak is that mumps is relatively harmless in children. Uncomfortable, yes. Miserable, yes. Deadly? No. But in young adults, it can cause sterilization and reproductive problems.
John McCain’s personality quirks (aka his explosive temper and small man’s complex) will be ameliorated by the separation of powers. So says Christopher Hitchens. I don’t know. Will the separation of powers diminish Hillary’s paranoia or Barack’s passive aggression? Doubtful.
The president’s personality does affect the tenor and vibe of America’s image in the world. No separation of powers can help that.