Our Senators have been looking at revolting sado-porn images of US military and mercenary personnel abusing Iraqi prisonerss, and they are telling us how disturbing this is.
What, and we don’t get to see? Come on. We like to look at sick shit too, ya know. Can I get a little democracy and transparency in this fucking place?
Author: Professor B
speaking of the Sopranos….
I predict that Johnny Sac will crush that malapropism-using, pretentious prick Little Carmine.
I predict something bad is gonna happen to our good friend, that homocidal genius, the erudite murderer, that clever assassin and would-be massage therapist known as Tony B. I think Johnny Sac might take his revenge on him for wacking Joey Peeps, and tell Tony S to just deal with it.
Oddities of Product Placement
If you were Snapple, would you want to have an empty bottle from one of your products smashed into someone’s face on the Sopranos? Seems to me that smashing people’s faces with a bottle is kind of negative.
Then again, what do I know about marketing. Perhaps they’re thrilled to get their brand in front of those eyeballs regardless of the context
Deadwood: A New Drinking Game
Required equipment: whiskey, a TV, and an episode of Deadwood.
Number of players: a minimum of one.
Rules: Play begins when the Deadwood episode starts. Every time a character on the program does a shot, players are required to do a shot. Last player standing is deemed the winner.
We’ll miss ya, Bob Edwards
I know I wasn’t the only one who got a little teary when Bob said his goodbyes.
On literally thousands of mornings I’ve stood there trying to cut through the fog, pondering my coffee, my day, my life, and listening to Bob and to whomever he was interviewing. And I have almost invariably enjoyed listening. There’s something about his voice, his style, his technique, and the workings of his intelligence that make you genuinely like the guy. Or at least, you’re sure you would if you knew him personally. It seems inconceivable that the man is an asshole in real life.
I should note that I am not unconditionally in love with NPR. They often provoke my more-radical-than-thou leftist wrath with their pussy-liberal establishment optic and spin. But still I’m a habitual listener.
Let us digress. Because I live where I do, a real lefty radio alternative is available: WBAI. Problem is, their production quality and indeed their content is often just too shitty, and I lose patience. I recall one morning turning them on and hearing some guy chanting and playing bongoes. When he was done, the host of the show was like, thank you man that was really good. Guess what: no it wasn’t. It sucked. Then came a woman reading dreadful poetry in a 1960s jive voice that was supposed to make us think she was cool. That’s when I said fuck this I’m outa here, I’d rather listen to white males discuss the stock market.
Back to the matter at hand: you did a helluva job, Bob Edwards. We’ll miss you buddy.
speaking the unspeakable about US casualties
I remember reading somewhere in Howard Zinn’s history of the US that in the run-up to the Mexican war, a shameless imperial land grab if ever there was one, there was ferocious opposition to the war. An American newspaper editorial of the time said, in substance, we deplore bloodshed and violence, but this is inexcusable, and if someone’s blood has to be shed, let it be the blood of the invading American forces. Let them be defeated and turned back in complete disgrace. Can you believe they actually published this? Nowadays everyone who thinks this way keeps his mouth shut about it.
Everyone except your servant Professor B, that is. Whenever US soldier or private sector mercenary comes home from Iraq in a body bag, I feel immense sympathy for the families and friends of these people. But on an a purely, heartlessly military and political level, I don’t feel a bit sorry for the invaders, nor for the employees of profiteering corporations, who end up getting wacked. In fact I route for the resistance. The US has no business there, and never did, and should get the hell out now, and beg the UN on hands and knees to step in, and offer to pay the bills. Cut military spending in half and use some of the savings to rebuild the place and pay reparations.
“presidential” press conference
Well well well. Can’t think of any mistakes you made in the so-called War on Terror, George? Need a little help? OK, how about the criminal invasion and occupation of Iraq? Under the false pretext of the WMD you now can’t find, not even under the desk in your office? Remember that?
Seriously, though. You otherwise acquitted yourself brilliantly. You laid out all those distortions, lies and rabble-rousing button-pushing jingoistic propaganda just like Karl R. and your other handlers trained you. I bet you’ll get a nice little bump in the poll numbers (which don’t concern you, of course).
Oh by the way: fuck you.
Rock, Paper, Scissors, Deadpan
Is is just me, or is there note something funnier-than-shit about this deadpan treatment of rock-paper-scissors: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rock%2C_Paper%2C_Scissors
I Can’t Fix Shit
I can’t fix shit. I can’t install, assemble, repair, maintain, build or otherwise perform any manner of mechanical activity on any physical object whatsoever.
I am a klutz.
There, I said it, and I don’t regret it.
Now I can go back to trying to install a gate to keep our eleven-month-old from tumbling down the stairs.
PS: I exaggerate. In fact, I have: assembled stuff — furniture, baby equipment, gas barbecue grill — that still has yet to fall apart; patched and replaced bicycle tubes; replaced all manner of computer parts; done very basic plumbing repairs without fucking up (and have also done them with fucking up); and so forth. But it’s slow, painful and perilous, because I am a klutz. Though I read instructions and how-to books, usually something comes up that is undocumented. That’s when a person needs creativity, courage, imagination, balls, talent, skill. I have a little of the first three, but very little of the last two.
Sunday again, oh my….
