Thursday, September 30, 2004

The New York Times > Books > A Windfall of Modern Poetry for Scholars

The New York Times > Books > A Windfall of Modern Poetry for Scholars

wow. this makes my dorky toes tingle.

sigh. the fall always makes me think of school - crossing the Diag at 7.30 am, holding a cup of coffee, running through a lesson plan, my face tingling from the cold ann arbor air.

(hoping for a glimpse of knightley, but whatever.)

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

i'm postponing packing for my trip to la (please don't let anything weird happen on my flight).

so that means A-- and i are watching the bachelor. already it's pissing us off. he asked 4 women to set up his room - and they actually did it. like, no one actually had the presence of mind to refuse. jeezus. (A-- just farted.) what's an A-game and whoever thinks a date to a private brandy concert has been watching too much WB.

A's word to the nekkid bachelorette in the kitchen: don't be near my food naked. (A-- farted again. 'hey, i'm sorry, i'm sorry!! i had two cups of steamed broccoli, cauliflower - rabe!!')

[commercial break] you know what's so maddening about this stupid show? it's like the women on it haven't learned anything from past seasons. they're still stupid. they're still giving women everywhere a bad name. they are still as empty as socks on a floor. they are utterly useless...wow...crazy filipina girl confession. what's with the tears?? their little rustic cabin looks like something on the General Hospital set. hee.

i can't take it anymore. i gotta pack.

Brainy Wednesday: Why do we still fall for Mr Darcy?

was he domineering?
remote?
cold?
rigid?
patriarchal?

yes to all of these.

but he was also *discerning.* yes yes yes, there was all of that hating eliza's mother, but didn't elizabeth, as well? it's not as if eliza and darcy are so very different - both are acutely aware of the bennet's shortcomings.

what's hot about darcy is that he discerns how *exceptional* eliza is over all women of his acquaintance. she is the wit, she is the sparkle in an otherwise dull setting.

we love darcy because he had the sense to really see elizabeth. if i had to say what it is women really want it's to be seen, to be recognized. not looked at. SEEN. see us, see what's really there - the nuts, the craziness, the hardness, the bitter, the sweet. the creamy nougat center inside the dark chocolate and chile powder shell.

and really, who's our choice here? frank? (that limp noodle) wickham? (please - 19th century baby daddy.)

preferable to darcy would be the captain in 'persuasion' - oh, that letter he writes after nursing a broken, throbbing heart for over 10 years!! geez. i watch that film just for that one scene and i just dissolve. give me words!! lots and lots of heaving, throbbing words!

for my taste, though, i prefer knightley from 'emma'. he administers discipline (badly done, emma, badly done!) but then sacrifices his patriarchal seat to live with emma and her doddering old dad. love me, spank me - but then adore me. heh heh heh.

sick, but totally hot.

WASHINGTONIAN - Best & Worst of Congress '04

WASHINGTONIAN - Best & Worst of Congress '04

i love they ask assistants. heh - we know all your secrets.

t r u t h o u t - FOCUS: Al Gore | How to Debate George Bush

t r u t h o u t - FOCUS: Al Gore | How to Debate George Bush

the bitter al gore is a lot more fun than the righteous al gore.

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

things accomplished today:

-threw a snit fit at scottish pastor for being an administrative dimwit
-recalibrated Madame's calendar so she will be in the air for the next month
-fell asleep on the toilet

bollocks to this - i'm going home.
yesterday totally blew. parts of my body ached, in places no man had ever gone before. the backs of my knees, under my right butt cheek, my knees felt like they faced outward, even my achilles heel. my posture was ramrod straight but who cared if i couldn't walk upright?

and Madame had a mysterious rash yesterday. she barely moved. which meant i moved for her. blew blew blew.

and today is more of the same.

blowage.

Monday, September 27, 2004

Chicago Tribune | Kerry's big lead in state shrinks

Chicago Tribune | Kerry's big lead in state shrinks

kerry still leads by 49% but the lead has diminished. if we want to win, we have to be vigilant and fight for every single vote - even in a solidly dem state like illinois.

so pass it on, people. get ALL of your friends to vote - even those slack jawed apathetics who got us in this mess by voting for nader.

(unfair? perhaps, but that's just the mood i'm in today.)

Sunday, September 26, 2004

The New York Times > Magazine > Fear and Laptops on the Campaign Trail

The New York Times > Magazine > Fear and Laptops on the Campaign Trail

hm. political bloggers - thumbs up or down? wanna know what josh marshall looks like in a hotel room? wanna confirm wonkette is a fame whore? does kos really look like jon cryer? (yes)

rawhide

in fear of sounding like a 12 year old girl, today was the best birthday ever.

we rode horses, we ate lunch in lake geneva, WI; we took pictures of the igloo shack, we stepped in horse poop, we drank beer. i sat on my horse, sam, and while we ambled through the woods and the underbrush, i thought, 'yeah, i could totally live on a ranch.'

i smell like horse. i want to do it again.

Friday, September 24, 2004

it did pass

The Well-Timed Period

so the right of refusal bill passed quietly earlier this month.

the blog above has details on the new language in the ANDA and the FRC.
the guardian has the story here.
last night i did a bad thing. it was so bad, if i had been catholic, i would have gone to confession today and asked for penance.

i watched showgirls.

woefully awake, i found myself slouched on the couch wondering if it could be as bad as everyone had said. i had only seen it once so my mind blunted the tackiness. and then i saw it again.

what was it about this film that filled me with ICK? was it the awkward Tiffany-esque dancing? the bad dialogue, the putrid portrayals of women? the bad nail art, the breasts? the (bad)lap dancing? the girl on girl voyeurism? that messed up scene in the pool? the horrific sexual assault of nomi's best friend? joe ezterhaus?

it was kyle mclachlan: his kalimera olive spray-on tan, shark-like eyes and that weird Less than Zero haircut.

creepy creepy creepy.

oohh, scandal

Herald.com | 09/23/2004 | Bacardi charged in Texas election scandal

the whole story of delay's little PAC and all its little pies is a little complicated (compared to the bush national guard story) but it's worth it to trace the not so little corruption of the republican party.

it's this kind of stuff that invites karma to come on over and give you a big bite on the ass.

outing continues

outing continues

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

brainy wednesday, cont'd: what if?

Informed Comment : 09/01/2004 - 09/30/2004

brilliant. what if we were living in iraq conditions, would bush still say things were improving?

it's brainy wednesday: iraq & the philippines

ZNet Commentary: The Philippine Model

thanks to J-- who thought i was getting a little soft and emailed me this article on the mode of colonial intervention our government practiced with the philippines - and how it foreshadows our actions in iraq.

the article is a year old but it's still relevant.

The New York Times > Kerry in a Struggle for a Democratic Base: Women

The New York Times > Washington > Campaign 2004 > Kerry in a Struggle for a Democratic Base: Women

how is this possible?

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

hands off the ovaries

XX - Right to Refuse 'Immoral' Medical Treatment Passes Through Congress With Nary a Word: "http://xxblog.com/index.php/archives/2004/09/20/right-to-refuse/trackback/"

this makes me mad. very very mad.

what happens when a texan moves in

Doug Grow: Political calling put religion into the mix

one day you're just minding your business is quiet minnesota.
the next some texan fundamentalist moves in and calls you anti-god.

let's hear it for compassionate conservatism.

the wire

it's coming down to the wire in campaigns across the country. i went to kos's site on Act Blue and kicked in some cash to help some hard races in new mexico and pennsylvania.

why? the presidential campaign is on its own course and i'd be less crazy about a bush win if we could hand the House to nancy pelosi.

it's a quick and easy way to help out.

something less quick and easy - in october A-- and i are going up to wisconsin to do some old-fashioned door to door work. it's a nightmare for me (i hate rejection) but i'll do it just for kerry. what are y'all gonna do?

The New Bodice-Rippers Have More God and Less Sex

The New York Times > Books > The New Bodice-Rippers Have More God and Less Sex

just what we need - a neurotic christian woman...

In October Harlequin will kick off its new Christian chick-lit line, Steeple Hill Café, with "The Whitney Chronicles,'' the tale of an endearingly neurotic Christian woman trying to deal with her stressed-out coworkers, comfort a friend who has breast cancer, handle her pushy mother's efforts to set her up and keep off pounds through a church diet group.

(thanks to A)

Monday, September 20, 2004

I have come to the conclusion that the female sex is, to put it bluntly, crazy. Over the weekend I had the dubious pleasure of witnessing not just one female friend melt down, but two! And – they hailed from opposite ends of the sexual spectrum! So it’s official – gay or straight, women are nuts. (and, yes, to a lesser extent, I include myself in this group.)

H—showed up to poker on Friday night one hour late and 3 sheets to the wind. Tricked out in a ruched blouse, skinny trousers and strappy sandals, she was the fanciest poker player ever. She’d breathlessly extricated herself from an event at Marshall Fields and was ready to … do something. Not play poker, that’s for sure. We were already in the middle of a very casual and EDUCATIONAL warm up game with T—and had eased into a nice rhythm. Then H—plopped down, started flailing about like a low-rent Holly Golightly and the evening became (how shall I say?) strained. It was like playing poker with a senile aunt. Stories ended in mid-thread, topics mis-matched, giggles erupted out of nowhere. And then there was the plain weird capriciousness:

‘why aren’t there blue chips?’
‘because we’re using red and white.’
‘but there should be blue chips.’
‘why?’
‘more leverage.’
‘what?’
‘well, more to play with. Blue chips. Blue chips.’
‘what?’

T—was so nice, he gave her a whole stack of blue chips while the rest of us just burned and went all in. And then there was C--. I won’t be totally indiscreet but there’s something wrong when, in the middle of poker, there are 2 frantic and emotionally intense phone calls (to different girls) in the bathroom while everyone else just sits and tries not to talk about what’s happening in the bathroom. Sample sentence: “And so I told her I loved her. And I do! I think. Anyway, yeah, I love her. But then there’s X. I think she’s cute, too. So I love Y and I like X. And now I’m going to lose both! I never win!”

Not when you play love-poker, darling.

Another weekend epiphany: one cannot drink copious amounts of alcohol without your liver finally collapsing in exhaustion. If I see another Cosmo, I will slap whoever’s holding it.

I am on my way to 4th for a new tutor orientation (tutoring kids from Cabrini Green). 2.5 hours. Sweet baby jesus. I will be surrounded by earnest college grads with floppy hair.
best. sentence. ever.

It's considerate of this baby whale version of Rush Limbaugh to be saving himself for some lucky gal, but I fear that when he finally does mate with Woman he may explode from years of self-denial in a spermatic supernova.


you must read him.

Friday, September 17, 2004

caleb crain on cornel west's new one here. it sounds like his 'race matters' was tighter.

am curious how the new judith butler reads, but i'm still wading through 'jonathan strange & mr. norrell.' gosh that's a big book. i've skipped a few chapters (i'll go back) but it still seems like i'm in the same place i was before.

as is my custom, i've read the ending but i'm still so behind i've forgotten it.

G-- has lent me 'devil in the white city.' have no idea when i'll get to that. and Madame has given me dan brown's 'angels and demons' to read on my morning/evening commutes. i'm positively inundated with books.
...
Had a rare good time last night with G-- and her friends in lincoln square (writers, scientists, med students, coworkers, an arrtist or two) - got lost taking the brown line - got off at the wrong el stop, stumbled into the cutest little stationery store, bought a card and some candles for G--, asked directions, walked through a lovely neighborhood, met G-- for drinks at the daily grill, skipped bowling, drank more at Huetenbar, a brown bar full of old world...charm, i guess. Stayed out chattering about politics (is there any other topic?) until 1.30 am.

Totally passed out when I came home - glasses on face, book on face, light on face , drool on face--lovely.

But am wearing new suit jacket and it looks great! however, nothing actually matches.
hm.
they're looking for writers.

Thursday, September 16, 2004

as long as you get a deal...

from the nyt -

this explains it all:
"It's more of a novelty thing," Mr. Risbeck said of his motivation. "I can play with all these different toys now and not get in trouble."

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

whoops - appended

ABCNEWS.com

like this says, a little perspective is needed on the whole forgery thing with CBS.

rather, some perspective on the response to this story is needed. where was the outrage when the white house used forgeries to make their case for the war? where was the outrage when ALL of the media turned on the clintons and gore with stupid rumors and unproven allegations (remember vince foster, anyone?)?

let's not forget the merits of the story: bush ducked out of duty. period.

what's the lesson here? if you actively lie about a democrat, you get a pass. if you're a republican who has only passing familiarity with FACTS you get a pass. if you smear a republican with (cough) less than totally vetted materials (cough) be prepared for a can of whup-ass to be opened all over your backside.

Tuesday, September 14, 2004

glad i went to grad school

hint: read it slowly. you can move your lips if you need.
(and look at the source article from stoler)

another one bites the dust

The Blue Lemur - Progressive Politics and Media News � Outing site implies Rep. Dreier is gay

this latest leads to a question about 'outing', which has become an interesting political tool.

using my yay/boo thing: yay, there's the unveiling of hypocrisy within the republican party. yay, there's the universe balancing itself out when a republican goes down in the muck of scandal.

then there's the boo: boo, it still implies that homosexuality is something outrageous to be pointed at, that it IS scandal. boo, it's icky. boo, it means that a politician's private life will forever be more important than real issues.

however, when one has voted for certain policies that will have a detrimental affect on a sizeable portion of the population, then one's private life (that contradicts one's public life) becomes material, right?

AND, when we add up all the lies bruited about by the republicans in the past 12 years, i think a little karmic payback is due.

but still, it's complicated.

for today

The anniversary for 9-11 came and went in my corner of the world with little fanfare or notice. Standing in the cool grey stoned foyer of 4th Presbyterian Saturday morning, preparing to smile at visitors and offer them cookies and coffee and invite them to tour the sanctuary (we have a beautiful church on Michigan Avenue), I was briefly reminded of the day when Calum said that some people might want to meditate. I asked why and he said, “It’s the anniversary.”

Later that afternoon, I rode the bus to Wicker Park and Bucktown to see the art fair, Around the Coyote, and A— and I rode trolleys, collected postcards, ate lunch, signed guestbooks, stood in hot tiny studios and sat by Wicker Park fountain, watching a beautiful afternoon fade into dusk.

The towers were the farthest thing from my mind.

Instead, other thoughts occupied me. I still thought about last weekend with DD – and the uncomfortable possibility that he could read this. My father had returned from his cruise and I wanted to catch up with him. My checking account had only $20 in it. My dental bill still had to be paid. I needed shoes. The invitation list for the Election Party had to be written.

Besides, there are other anniversaries that year other than 9/11. 10/25 – the day I was laid off from Deloitte (or fired, whatever.) 7/8 - the day my mother died, a loss that hangs on me. Her death is my ground zero; hers is the great black gaping hole that can never be filled. Of the thousands who died that year, I really only mourn one.

I’ve seen my mother’s grave only once on the day we buried her. I don’t visit it when I’m in LA. My sister doesn’t take her kids to touch the cold marble and fill the vase. The absence is enough for me. I don’t care if that seems uncaring or unfeeling; my family has never been sentimental. (This is what happens when your father grows up in the projects and your mother came from a poor Philippine village. Sentimentality is a middle class luxury you can't afford to cultivate.)

And so I carry the same unsentimentality to our national period of mourning. Not that I’m unaffected by that day. In the opening minutes of Michael Moore’s film, over a black screen, I heard the sounds of that day – the sirens, the rumbling, the disbelief, the cries. I shook. My skin prickled and my throat closed. I cried again. But despite my obvious physical reaction to that day I will not visit ground zero. I will not touch the wall and cry. I will not attend another prayer service. I will not listen to another speech that invokes it.

Perhaps my clear contempt and anger toward the Bush administration bolsters my refusal to memorialize this date. Perhaps I’m just too tired of the manipulative nature of these anniversaries. Perhaps I just don’t care anymore. Or maybe I can’t deal anymore. I’m overloaded. I’m saturated in mourning: Mom, 9/11, Afghanistan, Iraq, Abu-Ghraib, Darfur, Madrid, Beslan.

I could wallow in the Sunday afternoon my mother died. I could indulge in the sweet comfort of breaking down, the numbness, the hysteria. Writing this now, some of that has creeped back. But I choose not to – it's the most important event in my life and I push it away. The absence is enough. The lack is enough.

Because to take it all in again – to revel and wallow in the sounds, the tastes, the insane everythingness of it all –would be too much.

Monday, September 13, 2004

Body and Soul

Body and Soul

she's smart, sharp and fills me with blogging envy.
(and my boss is out of town, so i'm taking advantage. i'm so glad blogging didn't exist when i was in grad school. i never would have passed my prelims!!)

there's a post about lefty-guy bloggers calling political opponents 'bitches and pussies'. the discussion gets a little wonky (everyone seems to be very well-versed in gender studies) but it's good. (not as good as the online feminist essays about 'yentl' - but that's another entry.)

my take: go ahead, use the words 'pussies' and 'bitches' in political discourse. it merely highlights intellectual laziness.
(and i'm very conscious of my own profane tongue.
well - i am NOW.)

nostalgia

Bitch. Ph.D.

sigh.
i used to be a slut.
nowadays the only thing i go down are stairs.

Moulton woman says she lost job for sporting Kerry sticker on car

Moulton woman says she lost job for sporting Kerry sticker on car

two things:
1. alabama needs to fall into the sea.
2. UNION

daily kos has a link to the article and helpful advice (even the email address of the asshole boss who fired her) but this poor lady needs a lawyer. and another job.

great compassion there.

Update: Kerry hired her!
jp's blog

jp is a complicated guy. he travels to latin america and europe a lot, so he's not your average american 30-something guy (who, being average, would rather drink beer, wear a baseball cap and talk about his golf score). he looks aslant at american policy but he's not gonna let some euro get away with being...euro. once he was on a french radio show that tried to get him to say on air that america was racist - they had a certain difficulty with that and cut him off when jp started mentioning little things like imperialism and algeria. when his chinese landlady puzzled over his spanish last name, he snapped "Thanks to 300 years of Spanish colonization!"

anyway, the story of the bullfight made me laugh.

WTF?

Ron DiCianni Open Edition Canvas:"Praying For Peace" - Ron DiCianni

jeebus.

Friday, September 10, 2004

The Weekend, Or Why I’m a Bad Girlfriend:

* I’m totally uncomfortable being a couple in public (and I’m a little icky about it in private, too).

That’s about it; that’s the source of everything. I don’t like being identified as part of a couple. It's like living in a glass bowl. I thought everyone was looking at us. I was looking at us. I kept mentally checking in with where we were on the Couple Scale: are we touching each other enough? Can people tell we're together? Is it bad that we're just reading - shouldn't we be in the throes of how much we like each other? Why aren't we talking? Are we walking too far apart? Should I wait to see where he wants to sit on the bus? I became a mental case.

I couldn’t even relax enough in front of my own roommate to hang out with Dewey unless alcohol was involved. After the afterfest set at the Jazz Showcase, I was tanked – I chatted a storm. But after poker I was sober and was as silent as a monk.

It wasn’t as if there was anything wrong with him. There wasn’t. He was totally great – dry, funny, polite, used all the towels which was weird but whatever; all my friends liked him – they thought he was the right height, the right humor, the right intelligence; they thought he had beautiful eyes (which he has). He was attentive, frolicsome, passionate, generous, patient, and everything a guy on a long weekend should be – he helped me cook!

Why was I such a dud? I could blame it on PMS mood swings, bloating and such but that’s a bit lame. I just shut off. Huh. Strange.

Debriefing it later, A— said that I wasn’t like that when I brought previous flames over – even the ones who were plainly short termers. I was bright, funny, flirty – ON. But this time, I was OFF.

This does not bode well for this or other relationships.

dirty pool

Daily Kos :: Political Analysis and other daily rants on the state of the nation.

so we thought the new documents coming out about shrub's dereliction of duty would finally put an end to all this crap.

but no - now the right is saying the documents are forgeries and dan rather is on cnn defending himself.

what bullshit that we have to spend time deflecting the desperate acts of a lying party.

the link is to a fascinating discussion of fonts and ibm selectric typewriters (my mom used those at work). if you wanted to know the history of Times New Roman, well this is the perfect place.

cowards

i used to like the nytimes a lot more than i do now, considering how completely weak they are.

jeebus.

Thursday, September 09, 2004

and i'm not the only one who loves the apl song on the new black eyed peas!

tagalog! hip hop!

(i'm stupidly still at work...decompressing. surfing. on the company dime.)

the Onion was right!!

The Onion / CHAK | Bush: 'Our Long National Nightmare Of Peace And Prosperity Is Finally Over'

there's something wrong when the line between satire and reality utterly dissipates.

new!

hey, look! Comments!!
so last night i was so exhausted by work, i had the mother of all dreams:

i had just graduated from some university in new york. i was young, eager and apparently couldn't wait to work in a big soulless corporation. and that's how i land a job with dick cheney in a more evil halliburton.

it's so bad, there i am in an orientation meeting, looking at a film of how much ore, coal, oil, and stuff they've ripped out the earth and the other new people are salivating at the opportunity to join in this ripping. i just think all the mugs and pens and patagonia-wear are tacky and bulky.

so i'm working directly for cheney and he takes his whole staff to a corporate junket at one of the big mining facilities. it's a hellish building built over a great big hole in the ground and there are gears and cranes and smoke and flames - you know that scene in Two Towers and the bad wizard tears down the trees to make the Orcs and the weapons? that's that this looks like; there are all these men and women in suits drinking wine while the screaming and the smoke billows out the hole and cheney is giving a speech while demonstrating how to disembowel the earth. i'm sickened.

and then barack obama, dressed in a demure pink tweed chanel suit, gets up and shares how he hates being a republican and just wants to do good things for people.

outraged, my dream self quits her job instantly.

gen x = destruction of all mankind

MSN Money - Why we're not having enough babies

as our eggs and sperm wither, choking in wrinkled, used condoms everywhere, the future of our society dies with them.

heh.

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

she's 33!!!

aagh! aagh!
the woman my dad met on the cruise is 33 years old and her name is molly!

thank god he has a vasectomy.
have started reading ' jonathan strange & mr. norrel' by susannah clarke.
it's the best thing ever.

it reminds me of a big white chocolate bar with crunchy rice krispies in it. ingulgently good.

it explains so much

Political Victory: From Here to Maternity (washingtonpost.com)

ever wonder why there's so much stupid in the world? well, now we know.

we practice safe sex and they don't.

seriously, though, while the idea of the world becoming retro makes me rethink (for a teeny millisecond) my adamantine resolve to remain child-free - after all, no one wants the world to be populated by culturally conservative republicans - i can't get behind this behest to breed.

breeding to maintain a political advantage is just as creepy as breeding to fulfill a vague culturally relative biological imperative. and it smacks of that weirdo imperialist domestic crap from the early 20th century - home and hearth all for the good of the nation!

no thanks. my eggs die with me.

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

some lessons:

1. never buy condoms made in india.
2. never send your tuxedo'd widower father on a cruise to alaska or he'll totally have a Lost in Translation experience with a bartendress who is YOUR AGE!!
3. never read Cargo magazine in a cafe while your lover slumps across the table from you smoking marlboro reds and there's lint in his beard: he'll never survive the comparison
4. never assume lesbian girlfriends share information
5. never make your friends pick out your boyfriend from a crowd of gay men
7. never buy condoms made in india. (Inspiral, you can kiss my ass!)
8. never eat indian food then go to punk rock night at delilah's (belch)
9. never forget (and reconcile somehow) that your girlfriends are ALWAYS going to be cooler and funnier than your lovers
10. however, never underestimate the improved quality of sleep when there's another warm butt in bed with yours.

later

it was a long weekend and i think i was slightly traumatized by it all.

however, A-- gets a prize for being a cool roommate.
(and for manfully spearheading a conversation with Dewey Darko while i took a nap from sheer exhaustion.)

Friday, September 03, 2004

uh...the nerve

i don't know if this is a record, but for the 4th time, i am Nerve Ad of the Day.
holy crap.

(action taken: immediately hid my profile.)

Thursday, September 02, 2004

resources

for those whose heads are about to explode, some resources to get the FAST word out against bush and the republican agenda:

The Center for American Progress has a Talking Points page (updated daily) and an archive. Use it!

The Gadflyer has Ammo Dump (they haven't updated since May but I think they've been busy...)

You want facts? You want figures? Then you want Donkey Rising - a copious breakdown of numbers from a guy who knows - Ruy Tuxeira.

[think you'll be challenged on the numbers? ask if they know anything about statistical methodology. when they say no, turn on your heel and mutter "cretin." if they say yes, which is unlikely, force 'em to prove it. everyone will be so bored they'll tune out immediately.]

when i find more, i'll post them.
grr! grr!!

loving jon stewart (again)

i don't have the link to the video but if anyone caught the 'film' last night on the daily show about george bush's 'powerful words' and their battle against fact, tell me it wasn't genius and more effective than the dnc's 'rapid response' team's not so rapid responses.

and apparently stewart smacked down a smug ted koppel, too.

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

i'm not the only one!!

matthew: So True

remember that dream i had about the Republican Blessing? some clean cut republican chased me in my backyard, tackled me and kissed me?

clearly, i'm not the only dem dreaming of sleeping with the enemy.
totally disturbing.

and now i have my hair appointment.

and while i'm on the topic...

where the fuck is our party's Rapid Response Team??

no one calling them on their shit about compassion, the economy, 9/11, the war on terror, the 'reform' of medicare that screws everyone. come on people, take the gloves off!

if our response gets any more rapid, we might as well just give 'em the damn white house!

jp's pain

you don't have to read

oh jp, now you know why i wasn't at home when you called. i was in a bar getting pissed while the bush twins made millions everywhere cringe.

i look at the republican party and can't help but think that it's full of women who'd lick a blood splatter off a boxing mat and men who can't wait to force someone to pull a train.

blogging the convention

blogging the convention

have you vomited enough? be thankful - at least you're not there.

the entry about gender is especially sharp. and apparently the bush twins reeked. classless, tacky AND unfunny. a chip off the old block.