I hate this Sarah Palin chick. But I get it – her job is to woo impressionable voters with a bombastic geyser of
agitprop (or woo oil executives – who knows whose vote counts anymore); she’s here to blaze McCain’s campaign trail, or something.
Really, she wants to drill for oil everywhere; she’s ok with teaching creationism in schools; she opposes sex-ed (and has, consequently, a pregnant 17-year-old daughter); she’s in favor of a constitutional amendment denying rights to same-sex couples; she supports capital punishment; she’s in the NRA; she wants to take polar bears off the endangered species list? She’s a member of Feminists (sic) for Life who … please do not mistake them for actual feminists … oppose abortion in all circumstances, including when the woman’s life is in danger. So where does this woman get off running for office? She should be home popping out babies. Right? Isn’t that what her god put her on this earth for? I really hope I never run across this woman in a dark alley.
Interestingly,
her Wikipedia page has been protected from editing due to repeated violations of their biography policy, which I can only hope means that so many people (besides me) wanted to commit their venom to print that they could no longer trust anyone to say anything nice, and would like us not to say anything at all.
Anyhow, enough about her, but another thing getting my goat is that journalists are being arrested at the Republican convention, illegally searched, personal items (notebooks, etc. – whatever might make the news) confiscated, and so on; the most notable arrest:
Amy Goodman. What? I’m sorry, but … what are they so afraid of?? Cause it’s really hard to imagine (pick your right-wing poison, but I'll say)
Anne Coulter being arrested, for instance, while covering the Democratic convention. Go, Homeland Security. I feel very fucking secure. I’m sure of lots of things now. Thank you.
(kate covertly puts head into pillow, then screams).
ok. ok. I’ll be alright.
an exchange from
shopgirl:
Lisa: You want some advice? you never call him. But if he calls you, you talk to him, but then act like you have another call. Keep him on hold for a long time. Like longer than you think is possible. And break dates. Always break dates. Right around the holidays, cause then he’s just stuck. And fellatio. The sooner the better. And a lot. Act like you love it. After he’s addicted, cut him off. That’s when you got him.
Mirabelle: yeah, I couldn’t do all that.
Lisa: How come?
Mirabelle: I’m from Vermont.
*sigh*
On a different note, I’ve noticed things that bore me (jobs, say) are a ton more intolerable on the first day than on subsequent days. What does this mean? Are we evolving to adjust to discontent? Is complacency something that takes getting used to?
Am I an abstract pile of defense mechanisms masquerading as a human being?
Does anyone remember Dwight Twilley?
I never thought I’d say this (I like Abba, too, while we’re clearing the air here) but I miss the 80’s. It was ok to hate disco and the rich. And to want our next president not to be totally geriatric. And there was Square Pegs.
Marshall (playing The Family Feud board game in study hall): Things you keep out of the reach of children ..
Johnny Slash: Jars of tarantulas.
I have a (cassette) tape somewhere of ridiculous things people left on my answering machine. I don’t know how to preserve voice mail in the digital age, other than leaving it on my phone too long. Some things were easier in analog. Good thing my friends aren’t as funny as they used to be.
Hm .. anyway, my favorite thing on the tape is “Kate, it’s Joe. I’m in jail,” whereby a guy cancels his first date with me and asks me to call his landlord in for questioning. But here’s a close runner-up (paraphrased), left by the impossibly hilarious Scott Puhl for my then-roommate Jodi, who was his girlfriend at the time:
‘Substances you scrape off of a pitchfork.’ Hm. Substances you scrape – I know! I know!! FAR marmarmarmar .. ‘ … and the survey says, “ding ding ding ding ding! FAR marmarmarmar”’ (click)
Then there was that episode of Square Pegs where Johnny Slash was in the lunch line and said with no irony, “Can I have some more of the yellow runny stuff? And some brown lumps?”
ah .. those were the days.
