Now here's some gall

Apparently, the city officials in New London, CT, can't imagine why they got, uh, unusual Christmas cards from Susette Kelo. Here's a particularly choice reaction:

"It's amazing anyone could be so vindictive when they've made so much money," said Gail Schwenker-Mayer, a development supporter who received one of the cards.

Umm...maybe because she wanted her home more than the money? Hey, Ms. Stupid-Hyphenated-Name! Some people might possibly value something like a home over a bunch of money. Folks are just crazy that way, I know. And check this out:

"I still feel bad for Susette," Burdick said. "The sorry part of this is that the things she's angry about were not done to be mean-spirited toward her personally."

He's right. I can't imagine why she would take personally being kicked out of her home so that the city could put in condos she most likely could never afford to buy. Lighten up, Susette.

Burdick and Stupid-Hyphenated-Name, in my view, are so out of touch with reality that you'd have to bitch-slap them from now until mankind evolves into pure energy beings before they'd understand how wrong they were.

Attention last-minute shoppers!

Has Colombia got a deal for you!

As hulking as they are, hippos can outrun humans on land, which helps explain the periodic deaths of unsuspecting safari travelers in Africa. That speed, and their highly aggressive disposition whenever their turf is invaded, makes them a threat and is the main reason authorities are offering the animals, or at least most of them, free to anyone who will come and take them off their hands.

Sounds neat, but I'm not sure where I'd actually keep sixteen of these bad boys. I hear that VisMajor now has a backyard...

Miscellany

I've obtained a username for Redstate.com, and, yes, I've been posting there. I don't expect to change opinions, but I'm enjoying myself for now. I'm a fish out of water there not only because I'm damned liberal (unless of course you ask Mediagirl), but also because those folks hew closely to conservative political philosophy. Personally, I don't think most Americans worry overmuch about political philosophy; instead, they go with what seems to work. Case in point: Mississippi, among the reddest of red states and a foe of gub'ment intervention was happy to take the federal dollars it was offered for Katrina relief. And I'm not saying they shouldn't be, but if they do I don't want to here any more whining about the "evil" feds. Let's face it: When Uncle Sam wheels out the government trough, every little piggy - rich or poor, liberal or conservative - is happy to put in a snout.

Dan and I are flying to Florida on the 25th. I'm sometimes asked, "Isn't it kind of depressing to have Christmas without cold and snow?" My answer? Nope. In my view, nothing says "Seasons Greetings" quite like eighty-degree weather and palm trees. I can drink egg nog just as enjoyably in shorts, t-shirts and bare feet, thank you very much.

Can I say how good freshly ground peanut butter is? We've been buying it at the Reading Terminal, and it's delish. I've had spoonfuls of that heavenly treat for dessert and been completely satisfied. Why the hell does Jiffy add sugar?

Does this entry seem kind of frantic? It's a good reflection of my current state of mind, which runs frantically from distraction to distraction to avoid slipping into thoughts that, for now, are just not good for me to think.

A little good news...

...and some is long overdue, I'd say. I got permission to substitute for a required course, which means that (assuming all goes well) I will finally finish my graduate certificate this spring. I'm totally hardened by last summer's schedule-busting, seven-week proposal writing course, too, so right now I fear no graduate work.

Sex Dwarf was fun Friday, despite the drunken yuppies who managed to shove people around, drop several glasses (making the floor a jagged peril), and get creepy with Babs. At one point the bouncer was leaning on a nearby ledge, staring right at them, but they refused to get the hint that maybe they should tone it down a bit. They left shortly after midnight, off to annoy and grope other clubgoers, no doubt, but in any case I was glad to see the back of them. They couldn't diminish my gratitude in seeing that the beloved Sex Dwarf DJ team had festooned the walls with silver stars, in remembrance. It was like Star was with us, even if not in the way we would have chosen.

Another Day

The services were yesterday, and they were both heartbreaking and strangely uplifting. Not sure how those two things go together, but they did. Sooo many people attended...it was a real testament to the lives Star touched.

When I got home around 5pm, I remembered that my department's office party was that evening at a bar in Center City. Remembering that the party featured an open bar, and needing a drink* after the day's events, I decided to go and at least put in an appearance (and down some free booze.) I had promised the party planners that I would do karaoke there, but I was reconsidering it given that I'd spent the last four days in a daze. Then I thought of what Star would have counseled, which was that I should not only do karaoke, but that I should bring that motherfucking place down. So I took the mic and belted out "Dancing With Myself", with a mental nod towards an invisible Billy Idol, and I did bring that motherfucking place down. When I was done I threw the horns, which I expect my coworkers took for bravado. I knew who those horns were for, though, and my Movie Night peeps, had they been there, would have known too.

*I've drunk more alchohol in the last four days than I have in the previous four years. No regrets.

Is this getting by?

I'm at work today. I didn't want to go, but since I didn't want to stay home either and white-water rafting wasn't an option, I decided to work. Not sure if that was a good idea for me, and I know it wasn't a good idea for the coworker whose head I nearly took off over pretty much nothing.

Anyone else having trouble sleeping? Takes forever to drop off, and then you wake up a hundred times a night, always thinking of the same thing? I haven't had any bad dreams, though; I guess my subconscious decided that Sunday morning was nightmare enough.

I've found food a wonderful method of coping, and Monday I said to myself, "If some of a good thing helps a little, way too much will help alot!" That sent me on a junk-food frenzy until I felt sick and realized what I was doing to myself.

Another coping method has been busywork. Monday night I decided that those summer clothes I'd neglected to put away just couldn't wait another minute. Tuesday Dan and I did housework. Actually, the place needed it; after Sunday we did nothing to clean up, and there was food sitting out getting grosser by the day. I usually don't do stuff like that, but then this week's not been very usual. The place is clean now, though, so Movie Night people can be assured they won't be walking into a mess tonight. Would that the hosts were as tidy.

I don't know what to say

Most of you reading this know that Star Foster, a.k.a. Sarcasmo, died yesterday morning of a pulmonary embolism. Those of you who didn’t…well, I’m sorry you had to hear it this way. I’m at work today, because I can’t take another day of thinking about it. That’s small of me, but over the past 24 hours I’ve learned that the small things are what get you through. Of course, I’m here at work blogging about it, so I guess I didn’t do myself much good after all.

Dan and I got the call around 11 am, and we were at Graduate Hospital shortly afterwards. We walked down Lombard to get there, and it was a beautiful winter day, which somehow seemed wrong. You know what else seemed wrong? There were all these people out enjoying the (relatively) mild day, and it struck me that they had no idea what had happened. Dan and I were in a completely different world, and I almost expected them to be able to walk right through us. I don’t know if they were the ghosts or we were.

All I’ll say about how things were in the ER is that no matter how bad you think it was, it was worse. I don’t know how those ER nurses and doctors do it, witnessing that kind of awfulness every day. Maybe you get hardened to it, but I don’t know if I want to get hardened to that. I never know what to say in these circumstances, so I settled for looking at the ground or – really close up – at the shoulder of Dan’s coat. I’ve been told that I’m very diplomatic, but when Star’s folks approached Dan was the one who said the right thing, while I hid my face in the crook of his arm.

We invited everyone who was interested to gather at our place, which turned out to be a better idea than I at first realized. On the way back I found myself fretting endlessly over what we should have in terms of food. Food happens at these times, I knew. (Remember, the small things.) Mouserobot held down the fort while Dan and I went out and bought pasta and chicken and cheese and chocolate cake. The pasta turned out badly because I screwed up boiling it, which sounds funny. How do you screw up boiling stuff? You screw it up by putting in too much pasta and not enough water, that’s how. Given my state of mind at the time I guess it’s fortunate I didn’t stick my head in the pot. Bad pasta notwithstanding, lots of people came over, the Movie Night crowd plus others who’d known Star. Two people were missing, the first being VisMajor who had very kindly volunteered to help go to upstate New York and get Star’s younger sister. The other was Star herself, who I kept expecting to walk in at any moment.

The knowledge of Star’s death keeps coming at me from different directions. I’ll try to get my mind off it and think of something else, but the knowledge just pops up right along each train of thought and slams into me. I’ll think about the concert I was planning to attend that weekend (the one Star wanted to see), or the next episode of Battlestar Galactica (Star will never get to see how it comes out), or about Sex Dwarf (Star was so excited about the New Year’s Eve bash). It’s like the knowledge is saying, “Howdy doo! You thought you could lose me by distracting yourself, but here I am. I think I’ll settle in and stay awhile. A good, long while.”

I guess this is the time to say nice things about Star, but others have done that more eloquently than I’ve a heart to. As I said, I’m not very good at coming up with the right words at these times. I’m pretty much just thinking one thing.

I wish that Star wasn’t dead.

If I were to convert to theism...

...this is the kinda think that'd do it. The God Squad's all worked up and they can't do anything about it. Nice.

I don't have any sympathy for Mary Cheney, by the way. I think she's a mealymouthed orientation traitor who's happy to feather her own nest by stepping on every gay person in the U.S. Yeah, yeah, I know Dick Cheney can't legalize gay marriage, but for Pete's sake, he doesn't have to oppose it to gain traction among the bigot set. Yet he does, and he and his master have profited handsomely from it, and so has his daughter Mary. As far as I am concerned, she and her partner can fall off the earth into some heterosexist hell, leaving behind their baby to be raised by people who won't teach it that treachery for profit is fun.

Oh, and Andrew Sullivan, who makes an appearance at the article's end, is quite the fool. He thinks liberals are wrong, wrong, wrong, yet he ignores that liberals are the ones who make it possible for a gay man to be Republican. Kinda like Ann Coulter decrying feminists; if she really hates feminism she should get married, stop earning money and just stay the hell in the kitchen.

Election Dreaming

I had a really vivid dream a few weeks back, the details of which I'll relate here. It was Election Night, and while watching the returns on CNN I was surprised to see myself projected as the winner of the congressional race in my district. This was particularly surprising since I wasn't running. Apparently (I knew this in the way you just know stuff in dreams) someone had mounted a write-in campaign on my behalf, and that campaign was successful.

Cut to the first day of the 110th Congress, with me in a waiting room with dozens of other freshman reps, all waiting to be sworn in. I'm chatting with reps from Iowa and Arkansas and such, and in comes my friend Cathy with congressional cupcakes. Those of you who know Cathy have experienced her tasty and creative treats, so you'll believe that she could make cupcakes appropriate to a congressional swearing-in ceremony. She passed them around to all the freshman reps, making me (for an hour at least) the most popular congressman on the Hill.

Congressional cupcakes...heh, heh...

I can't believe I just remembered this...

...but apparently typesetting utility industry catalogs makes you think of embarrassing situations. Here goes.

A friend of mine had just moved into his house, so I went over to check out the new place. After the tour and renovation/decoration talk was finished, we put on music and starting dancing. (Gay guys do this. Don't ask.) Anyway, one of the albums was "Television Hits of the 70's", with theme songs from stuff like "Welcome Back, Kotter" and "Barney Miller", etc. When the theme for "Laverne and Shirley" came on, we started acting out the stuff Laverne and Shirley do in the montage: opening the doors into each other, putting the glove on the beer bottle, running out of the apartment, and all that. We were having a blast, and just as we were imitating the gals on the bike - me Shirley bent over the handlebars pedaling, and my friend being Laverne behind her standing up, arms raised - in comes my friend's cousin. He thought to surprise my friend with a housewarming gift, and walks in on us in a posture that I'm guessing did not immediately remind him of that lovable TV duo.

He didn't ask any questions, and we didn't explain. It was an object lesson in how innocently acting out a 70's sitcom montage can be badly misinterpreted.

A little bit of disillusionment

In case you thought that wiretapping was bad, check this out. Here are some of the highlights:

The scores are assigned to people entering and leaving the United States after computers assess their travel records, including where they are from, how they paid for tickets, their motor-vehicle records, their previous one-way travel, their seating preference, and what kind of meal they ordered.

Better think twice before pre-ordering that kosher or vegetarian meal. Everyone knows that Jews and vegans are soft on terrorists.

The government notice says ATS data may be shared with state, local and foreign governments for use in hiring decisions and in granting licenses, security clearances, contracts or other benefits. In some cases, the data may be shared with courts, Congress and even private contractors.

Well, there's something to be said for near-total disclosure, even if the subject of the record is the only one who can't see it.

The Homeland Security privacy impact statement added that "an individual might not be aware of the reason additional scrutiny is taking place, nor should he or she" because that might compromise the ATS' methods.

Or it might, you know, reveal that the criteria are pure bullshit. Either or.

Nevertheless, Ahern said that any traveler who objected to additional searches or interviews could ask to speak to a supervisor to complain. Homeland Security's privacy impact statement said that, if asked, border agents would hand complaining passengers a one-page document that describes some, but not all, of the records that agents check. It also refers complaints to Custom and Border Protection's Customer Satisfaction Unit.

Does it take a whole page to write out, "Fuck you, it's a secret"?

"If this catches one potential terrorist," he said, "this is a success."

Uh-huh. Does that mean if it doesn't catch a potential terrorist we get to can it? Also, exactly what is a "potential terrorist"? Someone who intends to attempt a terrorist act? Someone who plots one? Someone who might be sympathetic to someone either attempting or plotting one? Nothing like deliberately vague language!

Some of my favorite people

I'm going to list a few of my favorite people*, because I feel like it.

Margaret Cho: She's hilariously funny and is a great friend to the gay community. She shoots her mouth off, sometimes unwisely but always in the right cause. Go Margaret.

Richard Dawkins: This guy always knows how to answer those smarmy you-atheists-think-you're-so-smart questions, as well as the questions that are more honestly intended. He comes off as a dick, it's true, but that's because he feels free to call foolishness by its name. Would that more of us shared that predilection.

Sister Helen Prejean: This lady's a great mixture of compassion, common sense perspective and a tart Lousiana wit. You might know her as the nun who wrote "Dead Man Walking", but if you've ever heard her speak you'll probably join me in wishing she'd run for president, or at the very least the U.S. Senate. The highest praise I can say is that the first time I heard her speak in person I went away thinking, "Ahh...so this is why my friends are Catholic!"

Thomas Frank: He's a long-time political junkie and writer, and a few years back released a book entitled, "What's the Matter with Kansas? How Conservatives Won the Heart of America." That book strongly influenced my view of politics, and I strongly recommend it. He's a great speaker, combining a sharp political insight with a healthy sense of humor.

*This list does not include folks I know personally, many of whom are also among my favorite people.

How screwed are we?

Britain is finally doing what the majority of its citizens have demanded for years: pulling its troops out of Iraq. Poland and Italy will follow suit, leaving the U.S. holding the bag in Baghdad. I'm sure the Kingdom of Palau will stand with us, though.

NBC has decided to start calling the Iraq mess a civil war, a decision that was late in coming if you ask me. A conflict that centers on one religious group systematically killing another, and that has resulted in as many as 600,000 deaths...well, if that isn't a civil war, what the hell is? I expect that the White House will counter by attempting to redefine the term "civil war" so narrowly that what was fought between the Union and the Confederacy in 1861 will have to be re-designated as sectarian violence.

In other news, my foot still hurts. Apparently, it can take up to a year for plantar fascitis to go away. That right; in the time it takes my poor tendon to heal, a human could go from "Hi Sperm! Hi Egg!" to being cooed over at grandma's house. Where's Dr. Crusher with her little blue light?

I'm reading Richard Dawkins' "The God Delusion." Dawkins is definitely what you might call an evangelical atheist, and from what I've seen and heard in debates the man does not suffer fools gladly. However, he makes some pretty good points in his book; so many, in fact, that I'm taking my sweet old time reading it, to make sure I get everything.

I was reading yesterday about a local deli owner who foiled would-be robbers when he produced his own handgun and chased them out of his store. Apparently, tho, one of the robbers was frightened and hid in the back of the store where the owner found him. The owner then marched him into a back room, called police, and took his boots. I'm not crying over the fate of a bunch of thugs, but why would he take the guy's boots? I've been trying to figure that out and I just can't. Comment if you can, please.

And here I claim...

...the right to feel superior. I never understood why anyone would shop on Black Friday, but this?

Feh, I say. Feh. I grew up sufficiently poor than having fruit juice in the house was a rarity, and frozen waffles a luxury, so perhaps I'm biased. Or perhaps some people are frakkin' nuts. Growing up poor wasn't fun (although to be honest as a kid it seemed normal to me), but it gave me a nice perspective on the word "need." You need heat. You need food. You need electricity. You do not need cable. You do not need an SUV. You do not need a vacation. Proceeding from this is the very simple conclusion that most of the stuff people camped out Thanksgiving afternoon to buy was a bunch of crap they could just as easily have gotten later. Or - radical thought - been just as happy without.

Holy moley!

I never followed the OJ Simpson trial, and in fact did everything I could to avoid seeing or hearing anything about it. Those of you who are over 25 will remember well how ubiquitous and unending the coverage was, and can hopefully sympathize. However, I heard enough to know that most Americans pretty much thought OJ was guilty. With that in mind, you can imagine my surprise at this.

If he had done it? Umm, OJ? Most Americans think you did. May I suggest some alternate titles for this interview?

"The Way I Wish I'd Done It"
"My Confession"
"You Won the Civil Suit but I Still Killed Your Son"
"Rubbing It In: Gotta Love that Double Jeopardy"

Who told OJ this was a good idea? Maybe he's hard-up for money, or maybe he's just a fool. If it's the latter, he's in good company at Fox News.

A comforting familiarity

Check out Charles Krauthammer's pathetic attempt to spin the last election into a conservative gain. What I find particularly funny is this little gem:

Because both houses have gone Democratic, the election is correctly seen as an expression of no confidence in the central issue of the campaign: Iraq. It was not so much the war itself as the perceived administration policy of "stay the course," which implied endless intervention with no victory in sight.

Perceived administration policy? Umm...how about explicitly stated administration policy? Bush himself said something like this in last week's speech when he said he couldn't imagine how it "seeped into people's heads" that he ever advocated staying the course. I guess all those times he said "stay the course" don't count. Still, just as it's comforting to know that tomorrow the sun will rise and objects will still fall down, it's good to know that the GOP is still adept at distributing shockingly untrue but oft-repeated talking points.

On other matters, did anyone think that last week's "Battlestar Galactica" concluded with a hit on the old reset button? In my view, we found out very little that was new, and ended up pretty much where we began.

Nope…it still feels good

I keep clicking over to CNN today to make sure that what happened Tuesday night hasn’t, you know, un-happened. Not only has it not un-happened (try that double negative!), with George Allen conceding Virginia, it’s gotten better!

According to Redstate.org, Republicans suffered losses because they weren’t conservative enough, and that to regain power they must become even more conservative. I find that line of reasoning…well, pretty fucked. Personally, I think the reason the GOP got spanked is not because the American people all of a sudden discovered liberalism, but because Republican congresspeople had proven themselves arrogant, incompetent and corrupt. To regain power, they might want to focus on being less arrogant, more competent, and a teensy bit less corrupt.

Another idea floating around the conservative blogs is that everything will revert to Republican control come 2008. I’m not going to say that’s impossible (after Tuesday’s smashing success I guess anything can happen), but I wouldn’t bet on it. Come 2008, Senate Republicans are defending 21 seats, while the Dems are defending only 12.

In other news, I’ve discovered a new medical condition called plantar fascitis, which translates to “really annoying foot pain.” Those of you who have seen me rolling a metal candlestick under my foot at Movie Night have witnessed one of many home remedies for this malady.* Sigh. Getting old sucks.

* “Remedy malady” is like “taxi-Nazi”, isn’t it? I grow increasingly fascinated with these near-rhymes.

Oh frabjous day!

Obviously, I am elated about last night’s results, which I stayed up into the wee hours to witness. It’s been so long since my side had any electoral success that this kind of victory is hard to accept. Well, actually it’s delightful to accept. Even more delightful is the response of right-wing bloggers, who are doing their level best to blame their loss on anything – the media, the exit polls, the Democrats – other than the GOP itself. Given how poorly they’ve lost, I feel I deserve a little secret online gloating. If you want to join the fun, try Redstate.org., which I feel is particularly sour-grapey.

Dan and I totally did a victory dance when Santorum conceded. I hope you did as well.

The Value of Hypocrisy

Check out David Frum's defense of drug-using, gay-sex-having evangelist Ted Haggard. Here are a few juicy excerpts:

We admire the Arthur Vandenbergs and (someday) the Joe Liebermans who can reach past party feeling to support a president of the opposing party for the sake of the national interest.

Uh-huh. I'll bet From was incensed when Jim Jeffords bolted the Republicans, but when Lieberman does it to the Dems, it's "reaching past party feeling."

If a religious leader has a personal inclination toward homosexuality - and nonetheless can look past his own inclination to defend the institution of marriage and to affirm its benefits for the raising of children - why should he likewise not be honored for his intellectual firmness and moral integrity?

Hmm...according to this, the bigger the hypocrite Haggard is, the more virtuous we should hold him. Maybe Haggard should have gone for the gold and fucked a transvestite whom he afterwards beat to death with a platform shoe. Then Frum would likely nominate him for sainthood.

A hell of a guy

Check out Santorum-shill Romanelli’s lame excuse for going on the GOP payroll:

“Yes, well, the bottom line is that I needed money. I have been trying to fundraise for the Greens for five years, and Democrats and progressives just aren’t giving us any. It was my intention to elevate the level of discourse on the issues in this senatorial race. And let’s not give Rick Santorum credit. Let’s not blame the Green Party. Carl Romanelli put this operation together, and I had the understanding with a handful of Republican friends of mine who helped me that we were both using each other. I needed money, because I had none, and I was well aware that they thought that my presence would help their candidate. I didn’t ascribe to that point of view, but it was mutual, because for five years the Green Party of Pennsylvania has been lobbying our legislature for more fair ballot access and for campaign reforms. It’s fallen on deaf ears.”

Well, the guy’s intelligent, certainly intelligent enough to realize he was a mere Republican sock puppet. And I admire his courage in taking credit for selling himself out. Carl Romanelli doesn’t hide behind lackeys, no; when he offers his integrity to the highest bidder, he personally sits behind the cash register. I’m also impressed by the bipartisan spirit Romanelli demonstrated; it’s heartwarming to see conservatives and progressives coming together to use each other as tools to satisfy twisted ambition.

Hmm…intelligence, courage and a sense of bipartisanship, all in one Romanelli-shaped package. In a Bizarro world, I could vote for him.