Quick News Carousel

Second edition in the recently launched series of my “quick news” carousel collection.  Pause the slideshow and peruse at your own pace.

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Gaming the Gamergate GangSistas

Appended to add: I am not for harassing or raping anyone and if you’re doing that you’re no friend of mine. That said, for all the ongoing and constant rapity rape rape rape  claims and overly sensitive threat assessment tactics from the delicate flowers of gamer feminism (or atheismplus) I’ve yet to see one actual police report in support (evidence?).  If there was one police report or actual attempted rape for every 50,000 words spewed by these WATB, it would be a different story.  I’m just dam tried of their grabbing the stage and using it to promote self serving balderdash.

Yesterday I reposted a comment on my blog that I had dropped on a website trumpeting an ability to mock and track the “new” misogyny!  I used the opportunity to express my thoughts on (the ginned up) “gamer gate” controversy.  It was received with the usual (expected) mix of ad hominem malarky and knee-jerk bile.  What the replies lacked in total were any honest attempts at refuting the issues I leveled. There were plenty of feminist keyboard warriors who found the time to partake in my metaphorical stoning while simultaneously love bombing each other. This is a technique borrowed from religious cults and bolsters the mind-lock within the clammy confines of their heavily bunkered internet silos.  

It’s not like I don’t have other things to tend to, but I do find the Gamergate brouhaha to be at least as interesting a time-waster as FarmVille or Bejeweled.  It’s “CoffeeGate” all over again.  Get out the porn and potato chips.  This is going to be another doozy.

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Election Roundup 2012

I have a Facebook and Twitter feed to prove I was up REAL late here in Germany, watching the election and putting my bony fingers of contention to good use. In fact, the night of the election my fingertips were bouncing off my keyboard faster and harder than a midget cowboy riding a Dutch hooker.   For the record, I am only willing to shell out for food for the hungry, universal healthcare for the masses and a nickel more for a pizza so the delivery guy can afford $4 gas AND a dentist.  If any of you oversexed Democrats high on legalized hippy lettuce wants to see that rodeo in Amsterdam, you’ll have to pony up for your own ticket.  I promise you’ll get a far more graphic demonstration of the metaphors applied in the aforementioned simile.

Election Tweets

I have some Tweets from the evening that are more precious to me than my kids.  I’ll pull more screen shots out later and mix them in with my old vacation photos, either on a future blog post, or over at my house when we’re finished with sanctifying Christmas by stuffing our faces with cranberry sauce, before the start of the sacred NFL Xmas game extravaganza.   Just in case you think my football analogy as sui generis:

It’s times like these that are made to reminisce on things that happened back in the “good old days”.  If you can’t wait to see my full set of tweets, they are out there in the wild, but take caution.  Think of my tweets as “highly concentrated snark”.  Reading a couple of them is equivalent to chugging two large Red Bulls.  Do not read them while driving or operating heavy machinery.

The Setup

Things weren’t looking good for Romney even before the sun came up on election day.  His commie-loving son had just been caught trading arms for hostages with Putin in Russia, and only days after his Dad was on TV trying to scare everybody in America about the missing Czarist WMD’s in his foreign policy debate with Obama.

The Main Event

The spectacle of visible human suffering on election night 2012 was one I shall never forget.  A shot heard round the world.  The carnage was so total, and the chaos so complete, that at least one news anchor sprang from her perch running wildly about, on a frantic search to find somebody, anybody, who would confirm Karl Rove’s theory of a flat Earth.  This theory, bolstered by more than a quarter billion dollars of the most sophisticated research the Creation Science Institute could muster, added that extra touch of schadenfreude we’ve all come to expect in reality TV shows (or Slasher movies) produced over the last decade, so we at home were all thoroughly prepped for a big twist.

Nobody Could Have Predicted

That is, if we TOTALLY ignore this guy who had been repeated phoning, texting and emailing the Romney/Fox campaign extolling them NOT to volunteer to go down into that dark basement, but the promo trailers had been blasting America for months and it was clear from seeing those, that the Republican party was married to a stale plot device with the same loving ferocity Mitt has expressed towards the dim-bulb blonde he chose as his wife.  What a conundrum!!

Republican Reaction (Aftermath)

Dixie hadn’t experienced a November event anything nearly this tragic since Sherman’s March to the Sea in 1864.  Obama, like Sherman had “destroyed much of the South’s physical and psychological capacity to wage war”.

Just like Lincoln in the aftermath of the Great Northern War of Aggression, Obama still has a bit of mopping up in order to ensure a proper southern reconstruction.  This task is particularly difficult considering the unrepentant and thoroughly unreconstructed “Sons of the Confederacy” pictured above in Oxford Mississippi.  This strapping band of Brooks Brothers racists were busy going Johnny Reb, burning Obama campaign material in pseudo effigy, just on the off chance they could re-inspire the spirit of nineteenth century racism.  The only thing missing were the white robes and official seal of the KKK, though to be honest, I think at least half of those folks had some type of cross dangling from a gold chain around their necks.  They try to keep their racism tucked under their tshirts, but sometimes there’s an accidental “nipple slip” that makes it past the seven second delay.

Insane US politics is only one of the many minor perturbations that I have been dealing with lately, though to be fair, the 2012 election seems to have consumed the entirety of the last four years.  The megaphones on Bullshit Mountain began blaring immediately after Obama was overwhelmingly swept into office back in 2008 (in lieu of the old soldier & his organ grinder monkey sideshow act).  Good times?  You Betcha’).

Just to give the Republicans a port in the very stormy seas of their defeat, I finally found an EXCUSE for them to pass around that doesn’t rely on Karl Rove under-counting the Black kids crowding the candy aisle at Walmart.  They can thank me later:

I’m out.


No Experts Needed

This information is old news in the world of political junkies, but since Santorum is (momentarily) the hottest notRomney on the ticket, I’ll give Santorum the fifteen minutes of attention (it won’t go past that I guarantee you) he so desperately craves.

The Santorums took their miscarried fetus home for the night to meet the rest of the family.  Exerts think this is unusual.  I wonder if ABC thought to ask the cast and crew of their newsroom what they thought about it?  I asked twenty of my non-expert friends if they had ever heard of such a bizarre thing.  These folks are, on average, about fifty years old, so between the group of twenty, there is something like a thousand years of recent American cultural history to be culled.   None could provide an example of any person they’d ever heard of doing something so bizarre.  When asked to select a single word to describe such a practice, no one said “unusual”.   Weird,  freakish and bizarre were the modifiers most prevalent in the responses.  A couple of my friends also thought it bordered on child abuse to submit his living children to such an ordeal, but Santorum is a devout Catholic so I’ll give him a pass on that.  After all, child abuse is pretty low on the radar of Catholic mortal sins which Santorum is so passionate about.

There are also screams of disgust from the usual rightwing apologists, not about the incident itself, but the sudden high profile exposure of this extremely aberrant incident.  “Why are you prying into the private affairs of family?” and “Have you no shame?” seem to be about the best that the rightwing sycophants can come up with.  Their protestations of media exposure might hold some water if the “bring dead fetus home for the night” story had been born of a late night paparazzi stalking the Santorum household instead of being included in his wife’s book:

In her book, Karen Santorum wrote about bringing the body home to their other children.

This freakish incident was something his wife thought was worth sharing to the rest of the world, so it’s hardly a reasonable argument that people shouldn’t be talking about it!  So let’s talk but let’s not judge.  Just because 99.9% of Catholics probably don’t follow the ‘bring dead baby home for the night’ sacrament doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with it.  It’s not like Rick was really electable anyway, given his bronze age beliefs in so many other areas, but there is no way people are going to vote for a FREAK and whatever else you think about Rick, this incident with the dead fetus is definitely freakish.

Here’s a great example of an apologist post I ran into while researching this entry.  I still have the taste of astroturf in my mouth from reading it.

So Romney is a shoo-in unless people actually take that tired, old worn-out cliche of “Who would you like to drink a beer with? to heart.  Romney is part of a “suspect” religion that doesn’t allow drinking and Santorum is too freakishly up tight to enjoy it.  Under that scenario the nomination is either going to Ron Paul or Sarah Palin.

Seriously:  At the end of the day, Romney will get the nomination precisely because the religious extremist movement in this country isn’t strong enough to stop the corporate interests behind him.   Obama will crush Romney of course, but in the meantime it’ll be fun to watch all the religious extremists go absolutely bonkers at being shoved back into the shadows once more.  Thank goodness the religious crazies are doing the work of undermining and ridiculing themselves better than Christopher Hitchens even dreamed of.



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