Thursday Hunk BloggingYour Vote Counts Edition

Well, if you voted by the rules (no double-voting, no late voting).

May we have the envelope please? :::Drumroll as Aquaria opens the envelope to view the tally as compiled by the prestigious accounting firm of Her Own Two Eyes and Rudimentary Counting Skills::::

And the winner is:

Rorschach of No Capital!

Hey, it's always sexy when a man marries for love. Just look at those dimples. And those gorgeous eyes. He even has the Jesus look going, and we all dig that.

Congratulations, Rory! Now don't cry while NTodd puts the Eschaton Hunk tiara on your head. It'll make your mascara run. NTodd, give him the scepter. No, don't be that way. It's not sportsmanlike. Ooh, Rory, that cape and those rhinestones are YOU, you hunkalicious Leo Kingly-type man! Here's your bouquet. Ready to take your walk down the runway? Somebody cue the There He Is song, for us, huh?

MetaProtesting

Look closely at the photo, and get ready to laugh your ass off:




Dig the blonde's reaction. Now that's how to protest. Infiltrate the protesters!

A band of brothers pulled this stunt, with the signs, "Dying is for Wussies," "Judge Greer=Poo-head" and this classic, "We Are Idiots," and somebody across the street to take the picture.

More pictures at the protestors' blog. Give them some love, y'all.

Vote Here for Hunk of the Week

Nominations are now closed for Thursday Hunk. This thread is for voting only.

Our nominees are (with links to pictures of hunkiness):

Adrian Brody
Charley of When the Music's Over
Eli of Multimedium
Hugh Jackman
Mr. Left Rev
John Lynch
MattF of Neither Wrong Nor Right
Paul McGann
Timothy Olyphant
Adrian Paul
Rorschach of No Capital (scroll down and look for the groom!)
Screwy Hoolie
Jon Stewart
Surfdork of Daily Dork
Kiefer Sutherland

Voting opens with this post and ends at 12:01 a.m. March 31. One vote per person in the comments thread. I can check IP addresses. I'd rather not, but I will if I suspect hanky-panky.

I'll announce the winner sometime Thursday. Hope there isn't a tie...

Vote-a-Hunk Blogging Is BackLimited Edition

Yes, it's everyone's favorite feature, Vote-A-Hunk, when you the readers nominate and vote for whoever you think is a studly hot hunk of man flesh.

First, let's establish the rules, especially for the jokers in the crowd. And I'll remind all with such pretensions who has deleting capabilities around here. That's right. Me. I'm in an off-with-your-head mood. It's that kind of PMS. You'll get over it.

Anyway, here are the rules:

1. This thread is ONLY for nominations--no votes. If you vote here, your vote won't be counted. Voting here makes you shorter by the head.

2. Please submit pictures of the not-so-famous nominees. We're not taking anybody's word for who's hot.

3. The Eschaton rule: Nominees must be HUMAN. No pets. No cartoons.

4. Nominees must be male. No, Ann Coulter, trannies and drag queens do NOT count.

5. Nominees must be hot. Don't submit pictures of your grandfather, unless he's Robert Redford. I'll throw them out, too.

6. The previous vote-a-hunk (NTodd) is hereby disqualified from contention. You're adorable, darling, but let others have a chance to shine, m'k? I'll throw out nominations for him, too.

Rules for the comprehension-impaired:

1. Nominations = Good. Voting = Off with your head!

2. Pictures of not-famous = Good. No pictures of not famous = Off with your head!

3. Human = Good. Not human = Off with your head!

4. Real men = Good. Trannies, drag queens and the confused and/or confusing of gender = Off with your head!

5. Hot men = Good. Not hot men = Off with your head!

6. New man flesh = Good. NTodd = Off with your head!

Now have at it.

Weekender

This is my last free weekend before I return to work. I plan to enjoy it, so light blogging (if any) all weekend. It's not like that many people notice anything I have to say anyway. For the majority of visitors, just look at the pictures and giggle or snicker like you usually do, then go away. The rest of ya, have a good one.

Sex Toy BloggingRestrain Yourself!

Or maybe not. ;) It's all how you look at it.



Figure it out. I'll give the answer in comments later. Having, uh, fun here in the real world which makes the internet not so attractive.

What Blogger Type Are You?

I was over at one of my personal favorite sites, No Capital (Rory), and he had an Indian Name Generator. This reminded me of a test site I'd seen a few days ago, and had some fun with for Blogger Personality Type!

Click in the header and find out what kind of blogger you are.

I'll reveal my results later. :)

Updated to get the link to Rory to $@##% work!

Coincidences of Life

At the risk of seeming dreadfully depressing and dull, in a domestic manner, I'd like to talk about my second-favorite mother-in-law. I've had three of them, y'see. I like my current one best. Why? I've never met her. She's 1500 miles away, and never shows up unexpectedly. Doesn't nag about when we'll vist, either. I don't think I've even talked to her on the phone. How did I ever get so lucky?

My first MIL wasn't too bad, but she's the least favorite. No, she wasn't a shrew. She was a sweet lady, and I liked her. We just didn't have very much in common, besides her loser son.

But my second mother-in-law... Well, we hit it off, immediately, and soon became close friends. Heck, we got along better with each other than we did with her control-freak son. But, alas, she was a Gemini, and, just like all my relationships with Geminis, the stab in the back came over something she believed to be right but she was actually all wrong about. I was not amused, and the chill set in. When I turn to ice, it's permafrost. Ask a long string of men in my past. Oh. Sorry. You can't. Some archaeologist will find them perfectly encased in crystalline ice, preserved in the moment of time when I decided they weren't worthy of my presence any longer. But if you can find a room of your house to hold them just like that, they'd make interesting conversation pieces, like one of those bugs fossilized in amber.

Speaking of a long string of men, MIL #2 and I now have a trait in common: a past, as they would have said in the good old days, two of them husbands that we decided we didn't like anymore. Shameless hussies were we, marrying men and casting them aside when they no longer served our needs.

One day, we were talking about the hypocrisy of thinking a woman with a past = icky slut, while a guy with a past = cool dude. MIL #2 frowned a bit and said maybe we were wrong after all, because she really didn't like it when the past came back to haunt her. I of course wondered if someone had thrown her past in her face (a favorite rhetorical trick of Mr LJ #1), she sighed, ever so daintily, and shook her head. Then she unloaded this one on me:

"About 5 years ago on Christmas, I heard the phone ring, and I picked it up. This voice said, 'Hi, honey, it's me.' I said, 'I'm sorry, I don't know who you are.' 'Aw, come on! How could you forget your cuddle bear (he MUST have been a Taurus or Libra)?' Well, Aquaria, when he said that to me, I knew who it was. It was my first husband and I screamed! What in the hell was he doing calling me, on Christmas? I thought I was rid of that chump forever!"

"Maybe he wanted to talk to his kids."

"Oh, no, that wasn't it at all. He told me he was calling from a bar in Wyoming, and he'd just met this guy. They'd gotten to talking, realized they had both lived in California...then realized they'd both been married to me! And he put my second husband on the line! There I was, on Christmas day, dealing with those bastards again. Right about then, I was thinking, I wish I'd joined a convent when I was 16, rather than giving that first husband a second look."

Nearly 15 years after she told me that story, it still makes me laugh. I mean, what are the chances...?

Oh hell. If Mr LJ #1 and Mr LJ #2 ever met... [Shrug] They both know better to call me.

Thursday Hunk Blogging™

Because there's no such thing as too much Aragorn.



Still want to thigh-lock his face...

We're All Human

I had some fun yesterday with a News of the Weird story (He Shoots, He Scores?, but I made a colossal error in relying on one source for information, rather than looking into a subject more deeply, from more sources. In my glee at finding such a crazy story, I didn't bother to get the other person's side of what happened. Hey, I can admit when I goof.

In the post, one Dr. Richard Phillips has accused his former lover, Dr. Sharon Irons (they were both internists), of accepting his sperm during oral sex and using it later to impregnate herself. A daughter was conceived, and now he wants damages for theft of his sperm.

Alassra (I thought it was Alyssa!) in the comments thread pointed out that Dr. Irons had a side in this, and I realized I hadn't seen it nor bothered to look for it. According to this Associated Press article (and others), Dr. Irons's contention is that the child was conceived in the usual way (intercourse), and that the father has made up this weirdo story to get out of paying back child support. Furthermore, she sued him for paternity, not for money but to encourage a relationship between daughter and father

In addition, Dr. Phillips (mind if we call you Dick from now on, honey?), claims in other stories I've found that he ended the oral-sex only relationship when he found out his lover was married, not divorced as she claimed. Okay. That's not a very nice line. Sharon, what do you have to say? Dickie knew she was separated from her husband at the time. And it gets better.

Not only did Phillips know she was still married during their affair, she said, he also knew she was pregnant with his child. He even watched her do several pregnancy tests, she said.
"He was very supportive and very happy about it," she said. "He said, 'You need to hurry up and get your divorce.'" He promised to marry her and asked her to quit her job, she said.

But several days before her last day at work, Phillips informed her that he "couldn't go through with it," she said.

Hm. The plot thickens, and not in Dickie's favor.

I was still a bit skeptical because she was letting this man make this allegation. I mean, really, who would make up something like a blow job pregnancy, and who would let him get away with it? Sharon explained her reasoning, thusly:

In her motion to dismiss the case, Irons claimed the alleged actions, even if true, did not meet the legal standard of "truly extreme and outrageous" conduct necessary to sustain the lawsuit. Her attorneys further argued that Phillips' pain wasn't bad enough to merit a lawsuit. The circuit court agreed and dismissed Phillips' suit in 2003.

So she's wanting the case argued on its legal merits. Well, okay. I'd just say flat-out, "We did the nasty, your honor." It's her call, though.

But any skepticism I had of her side of events evaporated when I saw this, in another AP story over at CBS-2 Chicago:

Phillips is representing himself in the case.

Okay, this is the end of any wiggle room Dick had. They say only a fool represents himself in court. Well, maybe, but here's why the self-representation makes zero sense: A doctor, a specialist, doesn't have an attorney? Right. How about no lawyer with a working brain would take such a loser case? My Gawd, when a well-to-do person doesn't have an attorney to represent him in any court case, you know something's wrong. This guy needs to consult with one of his medical colleagues. Like the kind who will put him in a nice padded cell.

I'm not normally so lax with a story that I want to comment on that I don't double check it. I know better. Thank you, Alassra, for pointing out just how dumb I was with that post (although I still think some of it has some merit and some laughs). I owe you one. By the way, mainstream media, this is what a correction needs to look like: Up front (page one, even!) and thorough and honest. Try it sometime. You might like it.

MoDo Finally Gets a Clue

Most of the time, I just want to grab Maureen Dowd of the NY Slime--Er, Times, and tell her, "Girlfriend, quit trying to get people to like you. You're rude and obnoxious, and everybody knows it. So quit pretending. Use it to your advantage!"

And, boy can she dish out the snark, when it suits her, like she does in today's column about the Schiavo case, entitled DeLay, Deny and Demagogue (Link in header/title--requires NYT subscription).

Oh my God, we really are a theocracy.

Are the Republicans so obsessed with maintaining control over all branches of government, and are the Democrats so emasculated about not having any power, that they are willing to turn the nation into a wholly owned subsidiary of the church?

The more dogma-driven activists, self-perpetuating pols and ratings-crazed broadcast media prattle about "faith," the less we honor the credo that a person's relationship with God should remain a private matter.

As the Bush White House desperately maneuvers in Iraq to prevent the new government from being run according to the dictates of religious fundamentalists, it desperately maneuvers here to pander to religious fundamentalists who want to dictate how the government should be run.

Maybe President Bush should spend less time preaching about spreading democracy around the world and more time worrying about our deteriorating democracy.

Some of us have been screaming that we're becoming a theocracy for months, but would anybody listen? Did anybody care to wonder what letting these religion addicts would do to a country, if they got out of control? Nooooooo. You can pity junkies, but you don't let them run loose where they could hurt others or themselves.

While Senate Democrats like Hillary Clinton, who are trying to curry favor with red staters, meekly allowed the shameful legislation to be enacted, at least some Floridian House members decided to put up a fight, though they knew they couldn't win.

I know a lot of people defend or despise everything HRC does, but she is neither perfect nor evil. That being said, she's certainly not my kind of Democrat. If she's a liberal, I'm Arwen, and I get to have sex with Aragorn until I get tired of him. Anyway, MoDo nails Hillary as the shameless huckster she has become. You don't sell out your base, as her husband repeatedly did during his Presidency and as she does as a Senator, far too often. We have to stop being Republican-lite. It's killing the party, and it's hurting millions of Americans, every single day. Believe in something and stand up for it! How difficult is that to comprehend? Good for MoDo for nailing Hillary on this one. HRC deserved it.

Republicans easily abandon their cherished principles of individual privacy and states rights when their personal ambitions come into play. The first time they snatched a case out of a Florida state court to give to a federal court, it was Bush v. Gore. This time, it's Bush v. Constitution.

MoDo stumbles here by assuming Republicans have principles anymore. Maybe some of them do, as individuals, but collectively? Um, no. Still, I like how she dragged out that old dog of the Bush-Gore fiasco. No, Republicans we STILL aren't over it. We knew what it was: A warm-up before the big game. You're the ones who didn't see it for what it was.

The president and his ideological partners don't believe in separation of powers. They just believe in their own power. First they tried to circumvent the Florida courts; now they're trying to pack the federal bench with conservatives and even blow up the filibuster rule. But they may yet learn a lesson on checks and balances, as the federal courts rebuffed them in the Schiavo case.

Hey, we need every voice sayiing this as loudly as he or she can. We cannot quit hammering on the separation of powers threat. Not for a second. And whoa, MoDo, the snark about packing the benches? Girlfriend, you hide some sharp knives in your boots!

Mr. DeLay moved yesterday to file a friend of the court brief with the Supreme Court asking that Ms. Schiavo's feeding tube be restored while the federal court is deciding what to do. But as he exploits this one sad case, Mr. DeLay has voted to slash Medicaid by $15 billion, denying money to care for poor people in nursing homes, some on feeding tubes.

Hit him with the chair! The chair! Of course, it would be better to get a dig in about the funny timing of ranting about this when DeLay has so many ethical problems oozing from his pores, but this will do. It's pathetic that DeLay cares about this one person, but is working simultaneously, and vengefully, to deny to others what he screams about wanting for this one sad case. If that's not enough, the Roach needs to look a lot closer to his own backyard for sentient people being pulled of life support, just because they're poor, disabled or brown. No pay, no life is no way to treat people, Bugman. Wanker.

I usually don't have too many nice things to say about Maureen Dowd, but this time, she gets it right. I just wish she'd been saying things like this when we could have saved ourselves this nonsense. Like in summer and fall of 2000.

He Shoots, He Scores?

Man, this is one weird story. From News of the Weird:

Six years ago, during a brief affair in Chicago, Dr. Sharon Irons manually inseminated herself with sperm from Dr. Richard O. Phillips, following oral sex. The result was a daughter, now aged 5, for whom Phillips has reluctantly been paying $800 a month to support while his lawsuit against Irons for deception travels through Illinois courts. A trial judge had dismissed all of his claims, but in February, the Illinois Appeals Court granted a partial reversal, ordering a trial on whether she inflicted "emotional distress" by a legally "outrageous" act. However, the court dismissed Phillips' claim that Irons had "stolen" his sperm, stating that "it was a gift, an absolute and irrevocable transfer of title to property from a donor to a donee" and that, without a specific agreement to return it, it was hers to do with as she pleased. [Pittsburgh Post-Gazette-AP, 2-24-05]

What this woman did was wrong because she was devious and most likely malicious. That ain't cool, g/f. However...

For millenia, women have had the moralists telling them, "Well, if you don't want to get pregnant, don't open your legs". It was always our fault for getting pregnant, no matter what, like men weren't around when it happened. I try to imagine how this works in bizarro minds that think along these lines. You know, eggs just leap out there and grab some sperm, I guess from thin air, and dash back into the slut's nether regions to percolate a fertilization. Evil succubi, we women. [Note to the sarcasm impaired: This tirade is dripping with it, m'k?]

So I wonder if the guy in this case is now thinking, "Don't shoot your wad if you don't want to get someone pregnant." Or if anyone's dared to say it to him. My guess is that most people (besides the judges) are too busy castigating the woman as a malicious, devious bitch than pointing out to him that it was kinda stupid to unload without wondering about the consequences of it. Hey, guy, if someone really did have the ovaries to say that to you, how did it feel to hear it? Pretty shitty, huh? Now you know how we feel about the "don't open your legs" nonsense. I can hear it now from the hysterical wing of the species: But this is DIFFERENT! That was supposed to be just a blow job!

Thank you, for saying that. Thank you, ever so much.

Guys, thinking a simple blow job could keep things all nice and tidy is now out the window. This reminds me of that time-honored advice of keeping it in your pants if you want to avoid trouble. Some men actually do follow that one. But a lot of them will still think about cheating the system with a nice blow job, or some anal sex--a very dangerous alternative, and of course, that gold standard of dumb, withdrawal only to unload on a woman's thighs or tits or ass (or mouth). Sperm swim, y'know. Get a girl hot and sweaty enough and a sperm's got somthing to move around in. That's really all a sperm needs to find its way home. Ever wonder how sperm know exactly where to end up? Is it egg radar? Maybe when a whole existence is tied up in "where's that egg, where's that egg," then it really isn't a surprise for everything about its biology to gear everything into following that purpose. Anyway, every abortion clinic worker in America has seen pregnant virgins for this reason; ergo, Mary being a Virgin when she conceived Jesus is not a miracle in and of itself. Now this doctor gets to know how pregnant virgins since time immemorial have felt after they thought they had done something that would keep them from getting pregnant while having a bit of fun. I'd say it sucks, but, well, that's how Dr. Dick got into trouble in the first place, yes?

BTW, pay the child support, Doc. The kid didn't ask to be born, but she's here now and she's yours. Don't punish her for the mother's malice and your stupidity. Being born to parents such as you two is burden enough. I'd say to swallow your pride, but that would be cruel. I'm sure you'll steer well clear of any blow jobs in the future, so whether or not a chick swallows or spits won't matter, huh? Where's my punmaster buddy, Eli, when I need him?

Update: Mr. Lj/Aquaria and I can't stop making jokes about this one. HELP!

"He left himself wide open for that!"
"Oh come on!"
"Uh--no, come over there. Anywhere but here!"
"So much for come as you are. Or where."

Shakespeare's Sister Has a Whole Lotta Shakin Going On

Shakespeare's Sister writes a powerful call reminding us what the Schiavo case is really about, and why we cannot be silent or apathetic now:

yesterday, we saw the legislative branch acting against the will of the people (by a significant majority, according to any poll one reads) at the behest of the executive branch to supercede the decisions of the judicial branch. Two fundamental breaches of the major tenets of democracy—overtly acting against the will of the people and a complete disregard for our system of checks and balances. And bear in mind, this was indeed a bipartisan decision.

I despair for the future of America that the trust between the people and our elected representatives is regarded with such apathy by the former and treated with such contempt by the latter. Opportunism has always been a part of the political landscape, but never has it come at the price of sacrificing the very principles of democracy; never have the precepts upon which this country was founded been subverted with such cynical proclamations of goodness when the motivation was sheer avarice, the unmitigated desire to retain power at all costs.

Yes, that is reason to be outraged, and frustrated, and shocked. But it also reason to grieve. That in which we believe, that love of country and democracy which motivates us each day to do what we do, to inform ourselves and others, is slipping away from us, and in large part, we react with the jaded sense that nothing really surprises us anymore. The resignation to such insufferable behavior is frightening.

I can't add anything to this. Read the rest. Please. The link is in the header/title.

The Education of Shelby KnoxDon't Count the Texas Grrls out Just Yet

I just got an email from my local Planned Parenthood chapter about a free showing they're having of The Education of Shelby Knox. Lucky me. My schedule will be clear to attend this one. I can't wait. :)

For those who don't know about this remarkable documentary, I'll trawl this from the Planned Parenthood newsletter:

Into the culture wars of federally funded, abstinence-only sex education steps feisty teenager Shelby Knox of Lubbock, Texas. Although her county’s high schools teach abstinence as the only safe sex, Lubbock has some of the highest rates of teen pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases in the nation. Shelby, a devout Christian who has pledged abstinence until marriage herself, becomes an unlikely advocate for comprehensive sex education, profoundly changing her political and spiritual views along the way.

In the fall of 2001, Shelby, then a 15-year-old high school sophomore, budding opera singer and politically conservative Southern Baptist, joined the Lubbock Youth Commission, a group of high school students empowered by the mayor to give Lubbock's youth a voice in city government.  After an assembly filled with misinformation, the Commission decides to fight for comprehensive, fact-based sex education in the town's public schools. Shelby is labeled the “Sex Ed” girl by the media and encounters fierce opposition.

By her senior year, Shelby is committed to working with the gay teens, who have decided to sue the Lubbock School Board. She has also declared herself to be a liberal Democrat, a turn that shocks her Republican parents.

You know, evangelicals take a lot of hits from liberals, for some understandable reasons. But this is one evangelical who makes me proud to be a Texan. She is what plenty of Texas women are like than non-Texans realize: Intelligent. Feisty. Outspoken. No-Nonsense. Or, as my grandfather used to say, with a smile of admiration and delight, "She's got some snap in her garters!"

While I'm here, I want to remind folks of a few things about Texans that people tend to forget:

FDR never would have gotten Social Security or any of his other New Deal legislation passed if it hadn't been for his Speaker of the House, Sam Rayburn of Texas.

Women wouldn't have Roe v. Wade if it weren't for Texas women who dared to fight the system. I don't care if the laws in Texas were at fault (TX wasn't alone in that). I don't care if the plaintiff recanted. Her Texas female lawyer, Sarah Weddington, (all of 30 when she argued Roe before the Supreme Court!) has never backed down from it, and never will. This is probably the most liberating law ever passed for women, and this Texas woman will fight to the death to keep it in effect.

Lawrence v. Texas would never have become the law of the land, ending centuries of criminalizing gays for loving (or even lusting for) each other, if it weren't for the courage of two Texans to challenge an idiotic law far too similar to other laws across the nation.

None of those people were anomalies. We have some fighters here on the good side, in some unexpected places.

For the blue staters, don't write us off, yet. Don't think that the screaming nitwits represent all of us. They don't. Shelby Knox certainly isn't one of them. I don't know of too many states that wouldn't be proud to claim her. I don't know too many liberals who wouldn't be proud to be her friend and thankful to have her fighting on their side. We need every single Shelby Knox we can get. And we can. If we open our eyes and ears and minds to her.

Ew. What's That Smell? aka Ah! My First Troll!

You rattle the cage of male superiority, and the dregs always shake out. They still don't get it. This comment at the Weaker Sex post is oh, so revealing, and oh, so pathetic:

>Y'all haven't forgotten Lorena
> Bobbit, have you? Nope, you always
> notice when your dick is really on
> the line...or even flying out a car
> window.

I am totally fucking amazed that Lorena Bobbit remains an icon of feminist empowerment (and a source of humor). Yes, yes it's pedestrian, but imagine holding up some jealous male lunatic who mutilated his wife by hacking off her clit or her tits as some sort of icon of male empowerment. Totally fucking psychotic.

And then we have an admiring story of a female ruler who made the blood of 200,000 enemy soldiers flow -- juxtaposed with a posting featuring nostaligic Mao worship and...musings about the evils of imperialism (rivers of blood are apparently admirable when produced by 'bad ass bitches' or Mao, but evil otherwise.

Boy I sure wonder why there aren't more female commentators like 'Aquaria' on the nation's editorial pages.
mw | 03.22.05 - 1:35 pm

Well, first of all, mw is clearly a functional illiterate. Nowhere have I ever said that I wanted to be on the nation's editorial pages. I have a soul and morals, thanks. I'm also lazy. But it doesn't matter. I didn't say it. He just made that one up out of whole cloth, since my post was entirely about a controversy stemming from whether or not women existed as bloggers on the Internet. Do you know how to read, mw? No, don't answer. As for people who espouse crazy ideologies in the editorial pages, do you suppose anyone's read what's in them these days to mw? Good grief, it's full of crazy, nonsensical ideologists, like Charles Krauthammer, Cal Thomas, Thomas Sowell, Michelle Malkin--Need I go on? They're "acceptable" columnists fit for the nation to read? They don't have a harebarained ideology or agenda? Give me some of those drugs you're on, mw. I haven't had hallucinations like that since my last surgery.

Nowhere in the Mao post did I say I worshipped Mao. I specifically stated that I didn't always agree with him, but I found him the most palatable of Commie writers, for a number of reasons. Strange how men always conflate a bit of admiration for another man into more than it is. Objective, isn't it? But, oh so typical.

And Lorena as a feminist icon of power? Didn't say that, either (ah, yet another straw-woman argument from mw--what a surprise!). Personally, I find Lorena pitiful. Castrating her husband wasn't the act of a powerful woman. It was the act of a completely powerless, woman, desperate to have someone listen to her. That's not feminism to me. What is feminism is being assertive, well before reaching the dick-hacking stage. Reading Comprehension for Dummies: The point of the paragraph was that women didn't always behave in a ladylike manner, when push came to shove. You guys don't, either, even in a political debate, but you accuse us of being wussies when we don't act like animals. You try to have your cake and eat it, too, as always. And, for the record, women are being mutilated in other countries, all the time. It's done to soothe fragile male egos, so it's condoned by society. That's far worse than a woman chopping off some guy's wanker in a temporary loss of sanity. It's always, always worse when evil is condoned and practiced with collective purpose for power and control. See if you can wrap what's left of your brain stem around that, mw.

And now for the truly comical assertions about Tomyris as an imperialist. Well, I'll just post from my response to him in the Weaker Sex thread:

As for Tomyris, what did she do that was so wrong? Cyrus the Great had a 200,000 man army headed her way and ready to wipe out HER people. He didn't get there by playing nice. He didn't get there by NOT KILLING PEOPLE. LOTS OF THEM. Since you apparently haven't read any history, that's what warrior-kings did.

For Tomyris, it was kill or be killed. She knew she had to be badder than bad if she hoped to save her people. It's telling that she sent repeated requests for peace against one of the "great warriors" of her age. She sent even her own child. And when he treated her peace offering like he did every other opponent's, when he treated her like she was just another weak female (what kind of pansies have a woman leading them?), she knew what would come for her people if she didn't defend them with her dying breath. What was she supposed to do? Faint and cry and let Cyrus slaughter her people? Is that what YOU would have done? No, of course not. Because you're a man, and men don't do that. Well, guess what? Women don't either.

Yes, once again, women are supposed to collapse into a heap of tear-soaked petticoats when a big bad man (or imperialist) threatens us, lie back and let him do what he will to us. We're not supposed to stand up for ourselves, who we are, what we believe, the people we love--Nothing. Just lie back and take it, girlfriends. Because, you know, that's what's good for THE MAN, never mind you.

Congratulations mw. You're the Wanker of the Day.

Finally!

I must be psychic. I don't read much of the local news here in Texas. Call it self-protection. Now imagine my surprise this morning, after a long night of reading various data bits supplied through the awesome search powers of that intellectual stud-muffin, Phila from Bouphonia, when I go on the internet for a bit more digging and stumble across this quiet little article (linked in the post header):

Gov. Rick Perry said Friday that the state of Texas and Union Pacific Railroad Co. have reached an agreement to move freight rail out of densely populated urban areas.

"Relocating rail lines from crowded city centers will mean fewer accidents at crossings, less hazardous cargo carried through populated areas, greater efficiency in the movement of products from the warehouse to the market and the potential benefit of acquiring prime real estate for the development of new roads without tearing down homes and businesses in the process," Perry said in a written statement.

[snip]

Omaha, Neb.-based Union Pacific, the nation's largest railroad, operates the Settegast and Englewood classification yards in Houston that serve the petrochemical industry along the Texas Gulf Coast.

Perry said Texas has more railroad crossings than any other state and leads the nation in vehicle-train accidents annually. Since 1984, there have been 5,500 vehicle-train collision related deaths in Texas.

Read that last line again folks. Since 1984, 5500 vehicle-train collision related deaths in Texas. Some of us have implored the state for years to take this measure in an increasingly urban state. Nothing doing. Bastards. I'm grateful for this measure as a start, but what spurred it wasn't vehicle-train collisions (the little people are beneath the concern of Austin or Washington). No, it was a deeper problem. And that kinda brings me full circle here. What could possibly motivate someone like me, the laziest person in this or any other galaxy, to dig through CDC reports and chemical industry newsletters and other sites dealing with...science? Or boring accident reports? That's not sexy, darlings. But I do have other motives in life. Believe it or not.

We've had an alarming number of rail accidents in San Antonio, two that resulted in fatalities. With the latter, the reason two people died was because the train was carrying hazardous materials, and, though they didn't live close to the accident site, the amount of chlorine gas released was enough to kill them. Lovely, huh? We were damned lucky the train was outside the city limits when this happened. If it had happened only 10 miles closer to town, that fatality number would have been much higher than three people (the engineer of the train died from the wreck).

This fight isn't over. Not by a long shot. I still want to know why it took six accidents in six months to get the people of San Antonio protection from Union Pacific, at long last. I want to know who was paying off whom to keep us so vulnerable here, to keep giving mere slaps on the wrist to the railroads--if anything was done at all, and why. And I want to know when we'll get the same protection with the other rail lines. Union Pacific isn't the only railroad company around. That means others can still cause trouble, although it certainly is refreshing to have peace and quiet by my house now! I lived close to a Union Pacific line. Wonder what they'll do with the tracks? I could use the railroad ties in my yard...

Anyway, there's still that matter of transporting nuclear waste materials to Yucca Mountain by rail. Oh yeah. That's something people want passing by their front doors. And I'm really pissed that the people of Washington, DC have a full haz-mat reprieve (imagine that!), but the rest of us do not.

So, hopefully with technical help from Phila for the brain dead like me, there will be subsequent reports about rail safety and environmental impacts of hazardous material accidents via rail (interesting case up near Salt Lake--thanks Phila!). Some of you might find it dead-dull boring. But different strokes. Hm. Like your technique there, darling.

Dancing to a Different Drummer

Bitch PhD had a post up today about her kid explaining astronomy to her (quite intelligently), and it got me to thinking about education.

Being a home-schooler today means taking hits, even from fellow liberals. Man, all you have to do is say that you don't think public schools are right for everyone and here comes the dog pile. But I'm a bad-ass bitch who can chew my way out from the bottom and start kicking the pile around when it suits me.

Most of the problem, to me, is that some of us out here have drastically different ideas about what education and socialization really mean. Socialization. Good grief, I can't get rid of my son's friends--they're always over here, and the girlfriends? We've had so many cases of puppy love that this place is a sentimental kennel.

As a homeschooler, I don't follow a specific curriculum. I tried it, at first. Too confining. What's amazing is that, if you're creative and clever, you can come up with all kinds of ways to educate without it being...school. Blech.

I can load up the Aquaria spawn with all the books in the world, but the Internet is indispensable. Since I front-loaded the kiddo with critical thinking above all, he has a magnificent bullshit detector. When a subject or idea grabs his attention, he will look for source material to reach conclusions, rather than relying on anyone else's analysis. He knows a lot more about quantum physics and inorganic chemistry than I ever will. And he taught himself. I just make sure he doesn't conduct the crazier chemistry experiments without substantial supervision. I'd like to keep the bathtub, thanks.

Of course, we make use of museums and local historic sites. In a city like San Antonio, that means something to do all the time, and places are empty during the day while everyone else is at work/school! One of the wonderful things down here is that many of the historic sites have done a bang-up job of bringing some innovation to learning history, hands-on. At the Alamo, they have people making lace by hand (which enthralled my son and me for nearly an hour). Or maybe there's a woman who has a mockup of a traveling salesman table, with wares that such a person might have offered in the early 1800s. Others show how people made rope, and you can give it a try. Or people carve wooden toys by hand and let kids play with them.

But it's not just the typical educational sites that can be a learning experience.

The grocery store is a gold mine: Math, economics, chemistry, farm subsidies, environmentalism, the food chain, poverty, the spiritual significance of different foods to different peoples, eating customs in other societies, the influence of advertising on purchasing decisions, critical thinking skills to combat that--one trip can focus on any or all of them! And it doesn't take long to see that EVERYTHING is a learning tool. Don't ask how many times I've let the kiddo take apart the telephone. They're not all that expensive, so why not? I draw the line at tinkering with the computers. The old ones, he can do whatever he wants with 'em, but not my iMac or the Powerbook. Anything else? Go for it!

Ultimately, your child's education is what you and your child make it. I don't agree with the fundies who pull their kids from school over a fear that schools are turning their children from God (um, no), and I certainly don't agree with teaching them factually incorrect material. I'd say they're the minority of parents, who have put rigid ideology over their children's welfare. They'd fit right in in China, 1968. The rest of us are more pragmatic, though. We can send kids to regular school because we want to be sure they learn and have friends. There's nothing wrong with that. We can also educate a child ourselves because we think that schools are too confining, that they actually inhibit curiosity and free enquiry and promote materialism and conformity. There's room under the tent for both. We don't have to be at each other's throats over it.

The Weaker Sex. Right.

There's been a lot of uproar in the blogrrlsphere about a certain so-called liberal (but really as much of a sexist, reactionary male as any DINO), who lamented the dearth of female bloggers who had anything to say that he would find interesting. And that, well, females just didn't know how to get in the fray with men and duke it out like they could. Man, the petticoats started flying and the garters were a'snapping after that lame-brain assertion. Where have you boys been?

It's time to drum that nonsense out of the faux-feminist boy brains, once and for all. Most of the time, yes, we'd rather discuss things in a civil manner, but if you insist on being jerks...well, we know just how to deal with you. Y'all haven't forgotten Lorena Bobbit, have you? Nope, you always notice when your dick is really on the line...or even flying out a car window. But Lorena isn't the first or last woman to deal with men in a less than ladylike way. She's part of a long tradition of women who have said, "You just fucked with me for the last time, buddy. Kiss it goodbye." And, hoo boy, are we even scarier when our children are on the line.

Men are kinda funny. They talk about how women lack objectivity, yet they cling to this laughable idea that, until the big bad bra-burner's movement, women were supposedly gathering lotus blossoms to decorate their mud huts and collapsed into a fit of vapors if you even said 'breast' around them, or whatever fantasy it is that men have about what women were like back in the good old days. Uh huh. Newsflash: there have always been uppity women and bad-ass bitches.

One of my personal favorites was Tomyris, queen of a Middle Eastern tribe in the 6th centuray BCE. Her too-male superior-for-his-saddle opponent? Cyrus the Great. Maybe you boys remember him from a boring history class, when you weren't seeing if Brenda Ingram's skirt would hike a bit more so you could get a glimpse of her panties before the class was over.

Anyway, I'll let Lyn over at Women In World History give us a rundown of how Good Queen Tomyris dealt with Cyrus the (not so) Great when he got too big for his armor:

Herodotus the Greek historian wrote about Queen Tomyris, from eastern Iran, whose tribe resisted Cyrus's plans for empire. When she heard that he was building bridges in her territory so his troops could move through it quickly, she asked him to stop. "Rule your own people, and try to bear the sight of me ruling mine." She sent her son, Spargapises, to discuss peace terms, but the Persians captured him and killed the other emissaries. Tomyris wrote an angry letter to him: "Give me back my son and get out of my country...If you refuse, I swear by the Sun, our Master, to give you more blood than you can drink for all your gluttony." Her son was murdered*, and Tomyris proceeded to destroy Cyrus' 200 thousand man army. Herodotus called it the bloodiest battle he had witnessed.

Man--I just love that "more blood that you can drink for all your gluttony." That has a bad-ass bitch ring to it, doesn't it? So, boys, what was that again about us girls not having the fortitude to wrangle with you in the political arena? Do you really think we've changed since 579 BCE?


* Some translations of Herodotus say that Spargapises took his own life. Since I don't know Ancient Greek, I can't say which version is correct. Either way, the kid died when in Cyrus's custody, and Mom wasn't too pleased about it.

Additional note: Tomyris ascended the throne after her husband died. The Massagetae were sun-worshippers, and, like many such believers, practiced human sacrifice. In their case, they sacrificed useless old men (no word from Herodotus about the fate of old women) then ate them.

Haloscan commenting has been added to this blog.

Anybody who wants to comment on a post created prior to this one, you'll need to click on the individual post under "Previous Posts" on the left. Haloscan won't work for the old posts. Or it doesn't work for me.

Bear with me here...

A Voice from the Past Speaks Loudly Still

I'm one of those flaming liberal lefties who's actually read some of those Commie books that we're all accused of reading (and adhering to). It would surprise the righty-tighties that I find most of it nonsense. Leon Trotsky, for instance, was an idiot, although he seemed to have an excellent understanding of the actors on his world stage. He would write two of the most devastating character analyses--and warnings--about what to expect from the likes of Stalin and Hitler. The former is why he ended up with an ice pick in his brain. As for that Marx book that the righty-tighties always scream about most, The Communist Manifesto, I read that when I was 20 and came away with only one impression: Um... We're doing all this stuff Marx wrote about, and the Soviets aren't. So who are the real Marxists again? Even when the reads aren't that illuminating, it's a good idea to see how that side thinks. Know thine enemy, so to speak.

Today, in a burst of Lefty boredom and nostaliga, I returned to one of my favorite Commie writers, Mao Tsetung. Maybe what appeals to me about Mao is his near-Zen sense of clear-eyed realism, maybe it's the quiet calm when he dissects his enemies with laser precision, maybe it's just sheer awe at his tactical and political genius, but, whatever it is, I find him the most palatable of the big Commies to read. I don't agree with him all the time--but I can definitely respect some of his conclusions. Yeah, that Cultural Revolution thing was a real drag, downer and otherwise serious goof, but that doesn't mean he was wrong about everything. He usually saw America and the world just as it was, and his analyses sometimes ring true, even now.

For instance, I offer these gems:

The only ones who crave war and do not want peace are certain monopoly capitalist groups in a handful of imperialist countries which depend on aggression for their profits.
--"Opening Address at the Eighth National Congress of the Communist Party of China" (September 15, 1956).

Carlyle Group. Halliburton. Need I say more?

Imperialism will not last long because it always does evil things. It persists in grooming and supporting reactionaries in all countries who are against the people, it has forcibly seized many colonies and semi-colonies and many military bases, and it threatens the peace with atomic war. Thus, forced by imperialism to do so, more than 90 per cent of the people of the world are rising or will rise up in struggle against it. Yet imperialism is still alive, still running amuck in Asia, Africa and Latin America. In the West imperialism is still oppressing the people at home. This situation must change. It is the task of the people of the whole world to put an end to the aggression and oppression perpetrated by imperialism, and chiefly by U.S. imperialism.
--Interview with a Hsinhua News Agency correspondent (September 29, 1958)

It took most Americans until the 70s to see what Mao was accusing our leaders of in this 1958 remark, which only goes to show that we have a media as corrupt as our government. That is no new thing; the fault is ours for being stupid enough to think otherwise. This is changing, however, and good for us. What worries me in this remark is a) that 90% of the world rising up against imperialists like America and b) the oppressing the people at home stuff. A) seems to be more likely every day now, given certain policies at work in this administration. It won't happen today. Or tomorrow. But the Chinese Revolution didn't happen overnight, either. It took a long damned time to grow, then overcome. Smart revolutions tend to work that way, and Mao knew this from personal experience. As for b), it is becoming all too scary a reality here in America. Patriot Act, anyone? Torture on the table? The government deciding who can live or die? Aren't you scared yet? Why not?

The United States has set up hundreds of military bases in many countries all over the world. China's territory of Taiwan, Lebanon and all military bases of the United States on foreign soil are so many nooses round the neck of U.S. imperialism. The nooses have been fashioned by the Americans themselves and by nobody else, and it is they themselves who have put these nooses round their own necks, handing the ends of the ropes to the Chinese people, the peoples of the Arab countries and all the peoples of the world who love peace and oppose aggression. The longer the U.S. aggressors remain in those places, the tighter the nooses round their necks will become.
--Speech at the Supreme State Conference (September 8, 1958).

Hm. Maybe the countries have changed, but the practices have not. Notice that part about the Arab countries. And now think about US forces, dispersed around the globe while simultaneously fighting a war, the implications of what it means: As in more targets for enemies. Mao saw it, 35 years ago. Too bad our so-called leaders can't grasp this concept. What to find scary: China owns a lot of our debt. How do you support a country, much less a military, when you're as deeply in debt to a country that may not have your best interests at heart (do YOU think China does)? Nooses, indeed.

Not scared enough yet? Paging Tony Blair...

If the U.S. monopoly capitalist groups persist in pushing their policies of aggression and war, the day is bound to come when they will be hanged by the people of the whole world. The same fate awaits the accomplices of the United States.
--Speech at the Supreme State Conference (September 8, 1958)

There's that stuff about the capitalists again... And the world turning against America again. Let's see your neck there, Tony.

Riding roughshod everywhere, U.S. imperialism has made itself the enemy of the people of the world and has increasingly isolated itself. Those who refuse to be enslaved will never be cowed by the atom bombs and hydrogen bombs in the hands of the U.S. imperialists. The raging tide of the people of the world against tile U.S. aggressors is irresistible. Their struggle against U.S. imperialism and its lackeys will assuredly win still greater victories
--Statement Supporting the Panamanian People's Just Patriotic Struggle Against U.S. Imperialism (January 12, 1964)

Those Iraqi insurgents sure don't look scared of our atom bombs...

Ah, it's fun to go back and see how thought of the past applies to today, isn't it? If you believe it does. Who knows? Maybe this Mao guy was all wrong.

Why Abortion Must Remain Legal

Update/Warning: This post contains an image that is very graphic and disturbing. It's barely suitable viewing for adults, much less children. Please proceed with caution.

I just read an article NTodd wrote over at redandblue.net, where he made some great points. I will give a companion rant here:

The anti-abortion forces like to think they will create this utopian world where abortions never happen, but even Walter Mitty wasn't that deluded. Worse, they would have you believe that they want to save lives. They're a bunch of liars. One case would prove it.

To paraphrase from Life and Liberty for Women (a very kick-ass website) via Ms. Magazine:

Back in 1964, those "good" old days before Roe v. Wade, Gerri Santoro was the mother of two daughters, and recently estranged from her abusive husband. For whatever reason, Gerri met another man, Clyde Dixon, and (gasp!) had sex with him. She became pregnant. Fearful of what her husband would do to her if he returned to town and learned she was pregnant by another man, Gerry and Clyde decided that they had to terminate the pregnancy. By any means necessary. Of course, they couldn't afford to pay off some doctor in a nice hospital to do a purported D&C, as rich women could back then. Or hop on a plane and go to Mexico. Apparently, they couldn't afford even a back-alley abortionist (what--abortion being illegal didn't stop people from performing abortions???). No, these people were so poor, and so desperate, that they decided to do what far too many people in like circumstances saw as the only way. They decided to perform the abortion themselves. And they agonized over this decision so long, that Gerri was 6 1/2 months pregnant when they decided to take matters into their own hands.

Dixon acquired a medical book and equipment. They got a motel room, and he attempted to operate on her there. As expected, everything went completely wrong. Very quickly. Realizing he had made a mistake, realizing what could happen to him if he were there when Gerri died, Dixon fled the scene. She tried to stop the hemorraghing, but nothing worked. Here is how Gerri Santoro's life ended:



Yeah, that's caring about the sanctity of life. That's saving the unborn. How many lives were saved that day? I'll give the anti-abortionists a hint: - 2. That's a minus sign out there in front. Meaning less than zero. Not having access to safe, legal abortions took two lives that day, rather than the only one the anti-abortionists care about. An unborn child and the mother of two living children were both dead. And this is what the anti-abortionists want us to see again.

Gerri Santoro isn't an anomaly from the illegal abortion days. She happened all the time. I defy anyone reading this to see if he can find a septic ward in a big-city hospital today (good luck). Ask any of the nurses or doctors still practicing from those days about those chambers of horrors. They can tell things that will make anybody want to find a rope for Ralph Reed, pronto. My mother is one of those who was there, working the septic wards. She LOVES to tell you anti-abortionists ALL about them.

"But people will adopt!" the anti-abortionists cry. Uh huh. We used to have lots of places known as orphanages. Forgot about those, didn't you, anti-abortionists? Where do the anti-abortionists think those kids came from to fill them up, huh? Orphanages are still around, but they certainly aren't as prevalent as they were in 1964. On a wintery day in 1979, my mother drove me past the largest orphanage in Dallas, almost deserted by then, and she told me that there used to be children playing everywhere, children who weren't wanted, weren't loved, but places like that were already becoming a thing of the past. And maybe that was a good thing. I have never forgotten that moment, nor what she was trying to teach me.

Mothers dying (along with their unborn children), septic wards, and overflowing orphanages are what we face if abortion becomes illegal again. We cannot save people from themselves when lust overtakes them, but we don't have to compound that mistake with more Gerri Santoros. The process is so simple, but nobody on the anti-abortion side is willing to heed it:

1) This one will surprise the anti-abortionists for being my first recommendation, but I sincerely believe in it: Have family-friendly policies and economic opportunity for all that makes having a child an attractive option. Hint to the anti-abortionists: Your "allies" in the Republican party aren't doing those things. Quite the opposite.

2) Give people access to realistic sex education and safe, inexpensive birth control.

3) Understand that NO birth control method is 100% effective, not even abstinence. What, rapists or pedophiles CARE if a female intends to wait until she's married to have sex? They care if you, anti-abortionist female, choose to have sex only when you want to reproduce? GROW UP.

4) Since no birth control method is 100%, make sure abortion is safe and legal.

5) Get over the fact that women have sex, married or not, which is the crux of this issue. George Carlin was right: It's not about saving lives; it's about controlling women. And if they're stupid and get pregnant, forcing them to have a child is not an acceptable punishment. Do we really want people thinking that children are a punishment, when children deserve so much more?

If we do all of these things, abortions still won't go away, but we won't have so many of them. Even if we do have some despite all those measures, at least we are far less likely to face another Gerri Santoro. Does anyone here want to be her children? Her partner? Or how about her mother:




I doubt if Gerri's mom is still around, but, if she is, I'd like for you anti-abortionists to tell her that her daughter didn't deserve a safe, legal abortion. Tell her that her daughter didn't have any reason to take the risk she did, when she was certain that her husband would kill her (and her unborn child) anyway. Go ahead. Tell that grieving mother that. I dare you.

Compassionate conservatism, my ass.

In MemoriamThe New London School Exposion

Today is the anniversary of one of the most tragic accidents in American history, one that gets little mention: The New London Jr./Sr. High school explosion of 1937, in New London, Texas. Never heard of it? Why not?

UPDATE: I used to have images here of the school, before and after the explosion, but the owner of the site containing them was a prissy little prig who got so upset about my use of the word MOTHERFUCKER, that he decided the attribution of "All photos courtesy of," needed to be changed to "All photos obtained from." Nobody dictates to me how I word things. You don't want me to use the images, buster, be a man and say so, rather than clutching your pearls and stamping your feet. I'm a big girl. I can handle it.

Anyway, back to our story...

In 1937 New London, Texas, in northwest Rusk County, had one of the richest rural school districts in the United States. Community residents in the East Texas oilfield were proud of the beautiful, modern, steel-framed, E-shaped school building. On March 18 students prepared for the next day's Interscholastic Meet in Henderson. At the gymnasium, the PTA met. At 3:05 P.M. Lemmie R. Butler, instructor of manual training, turned on a sanding machine in an area which, unknown to him, was filled with a mixture of gas and air. The switch ignited the mixture and carried the flame into a nearly closed space beneath the building, 253 feet long and fifty-six feet wide. Immediately the building seemed to lift in the air and then smashed to the ground. Walls collapsed. The roof fell in and buried its victims in a mass of brick, steel, and concrete debris. The explosion was heard four miles away, and it hurled a two-ton concrete slab 200 feet away, where it crushed a car.

Over 290 people were killed, most likely instantly: Teachers, parents and most of the students there, all of them in their teens. Nearly 25 more people would die later from injuries sustained from the explosion. Nearly an entire generation of a community--gone. In the blink of an eye. As a mother, I try to imagine the terror of parents at home or work, wondering if their children would come home--and how so many did not see a beloved son and/or daughter (some families lost more than one child) come up the steps, same as always. That the child would never return, ever again.

This event has special meaning for me, for many reasons. My mother's family has lived in this very area since 1851. I spent my childhood in a village only a few miles from New London. Some of my distant relatives were among the casualties. My mother would later work at the hospital (just opened that March, 1937) in Tyler that received the injured.

My grandmother told me that she felt the explosion that day. The blast was so powerful that it sent plates and glasses crashing to the floor at her house three miles away. My grandfather, like most of the men of the area, would be among the workers who toiled well into that night, clearing rubble and--more importantly--searching for anyone alive. They didn't find many.

It's bad enough for people to lose their lives to something this horrible. But it gets worse:

Three days after the explosion, inquiries were held to determine the cause of the disaster. The state of Texas and the Bureau of Mines sent experts to the scene. Hearings were conducted. From these investigations, researchers learned that until January 18, 1937, the school had received its gas from the United Gas Company. To save gas expenses of $300 a month, plumbers, with the knowledge and approval of the school board and superintendent, had tapped a residue gas line of Parade Gasoline Company. School officials saw nothing wrong because the use of "green" or "wet" gas was a frequent money-saving practice for homes, schools, and churches in the oilfield. The researchers concluded that gas had escaped from a faulty connection and accumulated beneath the building. Green gas has no smell; no one knew it was accumulating beneath the building, although on other days there had been evidence of leaking gas. No school officials were found liable.

So let's get this straight: A bunch of rich white guys, possibly in collusion with an oil company, had tapped into a residue gas line to save $300 lousy dollars a month? In one of the richest school districts in the nation? Typical, huh?

Public outcry over this was substantial, to say the least. The superintendent, who had lost a son in the explosion, lost his job. My grandmother wasn't sympathetic to his plight: "His penny-pinching cost him his son, then his job. God will ask him if mere money was worth all that." Indeed.

The reaction from parents of the deceased after learning about the gas-tapping: At least 70 of them filed lawsuits against the school district. A judge threw it out for "lack of evidence." Lack of evidence? Yeah, who bought you off, motherfucker? H.L. Hunt's Parade? United? Or a consortium of the big oil scumbags then oozing through the area? I think we know the answer.

The more Texas changes, the more it stays the same. Texas has always been a corrupt cesspool (I'm one of those "renegades" who don't think Texas Independence was all that great an idea). Unfortunately, that corruption seems to be seeping past our borders and into the rest of the nation.

The only good thing to come of this was that the state required gas manufacturers to add a malodorant to natural gas so that people could smell it when it was leaking, to prevent another tragedy like this one.

Check out the photos of the kids and teachers, the parents and other visitors, who died that day. And ask if we're doing all we can today to prevent this from happening again. Ask if we can expect anymore compassion from our government than the New London survivors received? Can you bear the answer?

Sex Toy Blogging™NTodd Edition

Sometimes, a sub gets too mouthy and needs a good lesson about who's in charge. This sex toy tends to have such a miscreant learn his proper place in, shall we say, an unforgettable way:







If you don't know what it is, then Google "gates of hell BDSM," and learn more. The PMS has no patience for doing more than that today.

Thursday Hunk Blogging™Book Lover's Edition

I don't spend all of my time cruising the net for sex toys and gorgeous men. Sometimes, I actually like to read. And sometimes, I can get a combination of sex toys, gorgeous men and books. Or, more appropriately, the gorgeous men and books have me using sex toys later. But I digress.

Alas, few male writers qualify as hunks. Let's be honest: Most of them are dorks. But for every rule, there is an exception. Leave it to me to find him:






Now there's something you'd like to check out at the library. Or tied up in your bed. When you get your jaw off the floor and stop drooling on yourselves, I'll tell you his name.

Ready?

Robert Crais. Crais has been a TV screenwriter since the 70s. He wrote episdoes for Hill Street Blues, Cagney & Lacey, and L.A. Law, to name but a few. Not a bad resume, huh? He's also a mystery novelist, most famous for his Elvis Cole P.I. series. Don't even ask what I think of putting together Crais, private dick and myself. Hang on. I'm liking that idea a lot.

Where was I? Oh yeah--Books. Crais (down girl!). Writing.

One of his standalone books, Hostage, has hit the big screen. Regrettably, it has Bruce Willis in it (sure sign of movie crapola). If my scanner were hooked up, I'd show another image from the book's photo shoot, which would forever minimize any negative sensations acquired from watching Bruce Willis. Crais is that damned hot.

In fact, Crais is so hunkalicious that People Magazine named him Sexiest Author in their 2001 Sexiest Man Alive issue. For once, they were right! He draws bevies of swooning women whenever he does a booksigning (200 people isn't unusual), and tens of thousands more buy his latest books just to get the photo of him on the back. He even has a cult of fans known as Craisies, mostly women who are crazier about him than they are about anything he's ever written. When you look like this at 50, hell, you deserve to have screaming groupies:



Damn. Wouldn't you like to find out how hard he is under the covers? I don't know about the rest of y'all, but my boobies haven't been this perky since 1986.

For the record, Crais isn't a bad writer. Not James Joyce by any means. But he's not bad. He's good enough to have won Shamus and Edgar Awards. And his writing exhibits an eccentric, engaging sense of humor. That kind of humor is always, ALWAYS sexy in a man (as if Crais needed more to make him sexy!). When you're in the mood for a light afternoon read, pick him up. He's immensely enjoyable. In more ways than one.

Top Photo copyrighted by Jonathan Exley

Pervasion

Fun fact, as per the LJ spawn:

On Final Fantasy Online, characters can marry. They share resources and can work together to acquire more.

Caveat: Only heterosexual marriage is allowed.

Imagine that...

Tuesday Update

Voting or not voting for Hunk of the Week is the blogger's discretion.

This week, there will be no voting for Hunk of the Week. I already have him selected and tied up in my cellar. Just where I like my men.

That is all.

Postal Tip of the Week Blogging

Okay, new feature.

I'm a postal worker, and you know what?

It never ceases to amaze me what stupid things people do with mail.

Want to know my number one pet peeve?

Idiots who put perfume or cologne on their letters.

Newsflash: People are allergic to perfumes, and this includes postal workers! I'm allergic to at least half of them. As soon as I get a whiff of the reek from one of these letters (and, trust me, most of these offenders have shitty taste in perfume), I start sneezing. My eyes water. And I've got to smell that crap for at least 20 minutes. Some folks put on so much that it rubs off on me sometimes. Now imagine 10 people doing that in a day, all different, all crap perfumes? I clock out at the end of the day smelling like a Tijuana whorehouse on Diez y Seis. And I am not pleased. Y'all really don't want to piss us postal workers off. We're crazy, remember?

So knock it off with the perfume, already.

Logic Fails So Many

I love it when trolls go over to Eschaton, and try to instruct people about logical fallacies. As I said over there, I had a friend with an infamous quote he liked to bandy about: "Logic in the hands of the feeble-minded is a suicidal weapon."

It's fun to watch the trolls shooting themselves, over and over again, with their contortions and distortions of logic (or anything else, for that matter). And no matter how many times you point out their errors, no matter how patiently you explain it, they are impervious to the truth. Really amazing stuff.

I am not so ego-driven that I believe I am all-knowing about logic or philosophy. I know I'm not the smartest bulb in the chandelier, period. I've let my brain rot with pop culture and an obsession with sex. But I don't think I'm stupid, either. I'll let my mother's wisdom speak to this. As she used to say about thinking physical strength will get you through life: "There's always someone bigger, stronger, or meaner." The same is true of intellect. There's always someone with deeper, better knowledge out there, no matter how smart you think you are. This used to bother me. I was usually the smarty-pants, wherever I went. I'm at the age now when I can say I don't know everything, and not feel a twinge about it. Instead, I look at it as an opportunity to learn, if I'll only shut up and listen. I also know when to admit I'm wrong, or that I was misinformed.

I believe that people who want to have a sincere discussion about an issue will have the same ability to have an open mind, and to admit it if they're wrong. Or just plain don't know. This seems to be beyond the trolls. But then, most things requiring reason and plain old courtesy usually do.

Sex Toy Blogging™Ultimate Toy Edition

There's only one guarantee with sex:

If you don't have mastery of the ultimate sex toy, you won't have good sex. Ever.









Enough said.

Thursday Hunk Blogging™Ultimate Latin Hunk Edition

A great thing about life is that there are always beautiful men to look at. For someone like me, it's a reason to breathe.

I got to play Star Finder last week with lovely Erick Elias (mmmmm), but this week, I'll focus on my all-time favorite Latin Hunk. Is there really any doubt who that could be?



Before Aragorn, my long-running obsession was Antonio Banderas, and, although Aragorn is the current favorite, Antonio was not forgotten. By any means. Who could forget HIM? I mean, look at those gorgeous big brown eyes. And those curls. And that ever-so-kissable mouth. I won't even talk about how his voice wraps around me like an embrace and I turn into red-hot lava.

Antonio has made me so crazed that I almost plunged myself (and Mr. LJ, the LJ spawn and the car I was driving) into the Rio Grande upon seeing a billboard of him. I even plotted to take a chain saw to it and take the part with him on it home with me.

The first time I saw Antonio was in Pedro Almodovar's Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! When he showed up in the movie, I didn't think he was all that good looking. In fact, I thought he was kinda creepy looking. But the more I watched him, the sexier he got to me. By the end of the movie, my thighs would have broken diamonds if they'd been able to clamp down on anything, preferably his face. There was...just...something... about him. And yet another Antonio fan was born. He's a Leo, anyway, and I'm destined to find them sexy as hell. It's my curse (Aries and Aquarius women know what I mean).

I've seen Antonio in some good and bad movies since then, he demonstrated deplorable taste in marrying that ten miles of bad road known as Melanie Griffith (I had that opinion of her BEFORE Antonio--so there!), and the effect he has on me has never diminshed: I want him. I burn for him. I would sell all my worldly possessions and become his slave to come home to this every day:



On second thought, who would leave home? Call it Latin Ecstasy. Can't leave home with or without it.

You know, if Antonio were a plain man, he'd still be hot. When he diminishes his looks in a role, I still want to leap on him and make a dishonest man of him, all the proof that looks alone don't make a man hot. If I knew the answer to what magic formula creates the hunk alchemy, I'd be rich. But something does it. And Antonio has it. Oh, does he have it.

Hate Junk Mail? Pt. 2

I realized after I wrote my junk mail diatribe that there is another class of junk mail offender. Which made me think of another option for getting off a mailing list, or for twisting the junk purveyors' panties into knots for your own sick amusement, if that's what melts your butter.

Another junk mail offender: Catalogs. Good grief, I got on a mailing list for a catalog after someone stole my identity and tried to buy something from the company putting out said catalog. Bad enough that someone ID Thefted me, but to send me junk mail, too? Insult to injury. As you can imagine, I'm one of the malicious bitches who decided to make them pay for this. How? You can use the postcard trick listed in the previous post, but there's a better method to deal with these jokers. One that costs you nothing, but them quite a bit more, even more than a letter probably would, if you play your cards right. Keep reading.

With many companies sending you junk mail (like mail-order catalog companies), you may not have to use a prepaid envelope. They may do something even more amusing for you: Provide you with a toll free number to call them. It may be in that pile of papers they called a letter. If you're really itching to get even with one of these fuckers, even if they have prepaid envelopes but don't provide a toll-free number, look the companies up on line and see what toll free numbers they might have. Use the toll-free system to request removal from a mailing list. Stay on the line as long as possible, and imagine the bean counters (pimples on Satan's ass) panicking at every fraction of a second that you're tying up their phone lines and running up toll-free fees. Heck, if you're really mean-spirited, keep a list of toll-free numbers for junk mailers by your phone. Refer to it whenever you're in a bad mood and want someone else to suffer alongside you. Run up their phone bills for the hell of it. Hey, they're fair game if you ask me.

Hate Junk Mail?

Junk Mail is an abomination.

As a postal clerk, I must deal with it just about anyplace I would work in the system. If y'all think it's bad enough getting the shit, imagine what it's like to deal with it for your address, the 10,000 or more other people in a zip code, and that for the people who haven't even lived at an address since Clinton was president. Yeah, sounds pretty shitty, doesn't it?

But there is something you can do to reduce the amount of junk mail you get.

1. Don't ask for the crap. If you get the urge to donate to a charity or political group, make sure they give you the option of not being placed on a mailing list, of any kind. If they don't offer it, tell them you won't give. If enough of you do this, they'll get the hint and stop selling your name to other people.

2. Write to the Direct Mail Marketing Association and tell them to have you put on the do not mail list.

You can do this by mail here:

Mail Preference Service
Direct Marketing Association
PO Box 643
Carmel, NY 10512

You can also file your request online here: DMA Online

Remember: It takes a while for your inclusion on the list to activate. Be patient and wait two months for it to kick in before complaining to them. Also, you must register with DMA every 5 years. DMA's list also applies to corporate mail, for the most part. A lot of non-profits don't get the memo, so they'll happily send stuff to you, ad infinitum, ad nauseum. But don't despair. I know just how to deal with those fuckers.

Let's say that you're getting mail from Capital One (a chief offender of junk mail distribution). Look at the envelope before you open it, particularly the franking data (stamp). If it says anything other than First Class Mail or Periodicals mail, or has something other than First Class postage, it's Standard Mail. They may call it bulk or third-class on the letter. It doesn't matter. If a letter isn't First Class Mail or Periodicals Mail, it's Standard mail. And Standard Mail is almost always junk mail.

Now look for anything on the envelope that says Service Requested. It could be Address, Forwarding, or Change Service Requested--Doesn't matter. This means the company wants to know if the mail isn't getting to its intended victim, and, better yet, how to get it there. They will PAY for this feature (bonus!).

Now see if you fall into one of these categories:

1. If the letter's addressed to someone who doesn't live there, write "Doesn't Live Here" and drop it in your mail box. It will go back, and cost Capital One about 20-70 cents. The mail will stop coming to you eventually. Be patient. Sometimes it takes a while for them to update their mailing lists. Keep sending it back.

2. If it's addressed to you, write "REFUSED--remove from mailing list." This may or may not work. Depending on how ornery you are if they persist in mailing shit to you, you could send it back refused every month and stick 'em for the 20-70 cents on top of the cost of mailing you the crap, each time. Cool, huh? But if you get tired of the game, the next step is for you.

If you get a piece of Standard Mail that isn't Service Requested mail, or if you can't seem to get off a list even after following the above advice, things are tougher. Open the envelope. Look for a Business Reply Mail (BRM or pre-paid) envelope. If you find one, you've just struck gold. This is your ticket to getting off a mailing list, and the offending company will pay for it on top of that.

Time to compose a letter. You have to say specifically that you want to be removed from their mailing list, and provide the relevant data of your name and address. The rest of what you say is up to you. Be as nasty as you want to be. Just don't make any threats. Now put the letter in the envelope, but don't seal it. See the rest of the crap they mailed to you? Stick that in there, too. Even the envelope they used to mail all that shit to you (MAKE it fit!). You see, we postal workers look for letters that are bulkier than the typical BRM letters a company gets. We charge them for the extra weight. Yes, this means you can stick other things in the letter, too. Just make sure it LOOKS and FEELS like something the company would get. Don't be a smart-ass and attach a prepaid envelope to a brick, or mail a cache of powder (unless you like having the Postal Inspectors knocking on your door in the latter case). You've wasted your time and a postal worker's. Wasting a postal worker's time is not a good idea. Anyway, the bulkier your LETTER is, the more the USPS will charge the mailer. You'll get off the list, and cost the mailer some money they didn't want to spend. Woo-hoo!

Of course, if you get a really cheapskate company that doesn't provide a prepaid envelope, or the REALLY cheap fuckers who do their junk mailings by postcard, well, determine if you think it's worth your effort and 23 cents to get rid of the crap. I considered it worth it to get rid of those local ad flyers for junk I'm never going to buy. I wrote to them (they MUST provide something with the return address on it--look for the flyer with the missing children on it).

If you've had it enough to take action against these creeps, be smart about it. Don't mail the crap back to them, like you do with the prepaid envelope. That cost you nothing. Sending crap back to these idiots will cost you in postage. Don't give them the satisfaction. No, be as cheap as those bastards are: Send them a postcard telling them to get your name off their list. Make sure they understand that you are logging the date you sent it, and you want a reply. You may not get one, but keep track of when you mailed it. Again, give them a month or two to remove you from the list before you file a complaint with the appropriate agency. I'll look up what agency or agencies are applicable. I can't remember them right now.

It doesn't matter. I promise that following these steps will drastically reduce your junk mail, and that's a good thing.

You're welcome.

Monday Update

Voting or not voting for Hunk of the Week is the blogger's discretion.

This week, there will be no voting for Hunk of the Week.

That is all.

One More TimeWatch Tena Burst into Flames!

Blogger was being really shitty about inputting the link for Erick Elias's site on the Thursday Hunk Blogging thread. It's now corrected, but here it is again, for anyone interested: erickelias.com

This week's Thursday Hunk Blogging was definitely one of the most enjoyable. Erick's so hot, I went looking for (and found) some more lustful shots of him. I share them now for anyone else who's enjoyed ogling him as much as I have.

Theri complained about the scruffiness factor. Here's a cleaned up version of Erick:



Cleaned up and still looks good enough to eat!


A playful Erick:



Hecho en Mexico means Made in Mexico. I'd like to get made in Mexico (or anywhere else!) with him.


And the, er, tight shot:




Damn. He looks just as good up close as he does at a distance.

Aragorn may have some serious competition...

Friday Sex Toy Blogging™Brave New SickoWorld Edition

When perusing various sex toys sites on the Internet, I'm constantly amazed at the sheer ingenuity of like-minded sex fiends. At times, I've wondered, "Y'know, why isn't there a toy that...?" And, lo and behold, someone's thought of it and become a zillionaire off it.

For those of you who have indulged in the bizarre world of cybersex, there have been times when one wondered, hm, this is just weird mutual masturbation. And trying to type coherently while getting one's rocks off is a decidedly tricky feat.

Enter the Televibe:

For her:



For him:



Ah, American ingenuity at its finest. The ultimate remote controlled vibrator--Somebody can get somebody else off via remote to and from anywhere on Earth (or maybe even to/from the Space Shuttle!) via computer.

Imagine that you're hot and horny, it's Friday night, but you don't have a date, much less any chance of getting laid. Now imagine firing up your web browser, surfing into Adult FriendFinder.com, trolling the chat rooms for some willing soul for some cybersex, and hooking up in your IM client of choice. Then you connect your new toy, insert it or insert into it, and give your online honey the codes to control your wanking pleasure. Heck, I'm wondering if a whole bunch of people could hook these up and do a cyber orgy. Now wouldn't that be something to behold?

PC Only, unless a Mac user has a serial input. Go to BDSM Toybox for more of the technical information. I have, um, things I need to do.

Photos courtesy of BDSM Toybox, where the Televibes are $164 for hers/$84 for his. Grab 'em while they're hot! Get free stuff!

Thursday Hunk Blogging™Hot Latin Hunk Edition

Sometimes, I find a babelicious man in the most unexpected of places. Like at work. There I was, chopping out mailing addresses from various publications to send back for return postage due, when I get my hands on a copy of ¡Mira!

For those of you who don't know, ¡Mira! is the Spanish equivalent of the National Enquirer. I can't speak Spanish to save my life, but I can read it así-así. ¡Mira! is a great way to expand the old reading vocabulary. It has a lot of words put in bold letters and with pictures that a wee bit of guessing can get you through the translation process. Doesn't take long reading ¡Mira! to figure out that embarazado is P-R-E-G-N-A-N-T. The size and type of font will tell you if this is a happy or scandalous thing. ¡Mira! is pretty decent that way.

So anyway, there I was, thumbing through ¡Mira! when I encountered this photo:





¡Chingame! For all you non-Spanish speakers, this is not a polite thing to say. It means "Fuck me!" And how.

As the picture makes clear, this luscious, divine creature is Erick Elias.

Sr. Elias is a singer and actor from Mexico. He's had some international hits. I can't remember the name of them right now; just looking at him pinpoints my mind in one direction, but some of you may have heard him in a dance club near you. My memory seems to recall one of his songs for that reason.

This past fall, he also appeared in a Telemundo telenovela (kinda like a soap--except it ends) called Gitanas. But enough career data. The important thing is that he is drop-dead gorgeous. And all of 25 years old (no birthdate listed, but he's a Capricorn or--most likely--an Aquarian), as if that matters. ¡Dios Mio! Look at him! Plenty of hair--check. Aragorn and NTodd beard thing going--check. Hm. This one even has chest hair. Double plus good! Great big beautiful eyes--Hijole, those are some gorgeous eyes. And that smile...

We have a saying down here in South Texas that goes something like this: Vais a rechinar la cama. This is not a very polite thing to say, either. It means "Let's go have sex." It literally means, "Let's make the bed squeak." Hell, with Erick Elias, I wouldn't want that bed to just squeak, I'd want it to wail and gnash its teeth! It doesn't matter if you can speak the same language, anyway. There's one language that's definitely universal. And I'd like to communicate it with him until our tongues fell off.

Photo courtesy of Transparent Talent Mangement.com
More photos available at Erick Elias's website: erickelias.com

CAUTION: I am not responsible for any damage incurred from thigh-locking your computer monitor after viewing the rest of those photos.

Boredom

I'm bored. I'm so damned bored. I'm so bored I'm wondering if I might relinqusih my laziness enough to do something. If I can find the energy for it. I'm barely finding enough to post this.

God, I'M BORED.