All articles, tagged with “go boom”

people, please

Let’s just nip this one in the bud right now shall we?

That rumor going around (and I am not linking to it and thus raising its pagerank, thankyou) that Sarah Palin’s pregnancy while in office was some kind of convoluted cover-up for her teenage daughter being pregnant?

It is, as the French say, bull-sheet:
(edit: if you find that unconvincing, try here)

Palin is a public figure. Her officially published photos are selected — by her press office — to make her look good. They are without doubt heavily retouched. If you make any conclusion about what she actually looks like from them… let’s just say you may be mislead.

The account that published this nonsense as a dairy entry, “ArcXIX”, has posted exactly one other entry in the last four years, back in 2004. This is a hijacked account, people. I will bet you any amount of money that this is, in fact, a Karl Rove Turdblossom Special, designed to:

(a) sucker dailykos into a massive libel suit, and

(b) set the agenda for the media, again, for another three-month-long circle jerk about what a terrible, terrible human being Markos Whathisface is, and thereby:

(c) distract from the real Palin scandal.

And even if I lose that bet and it’s just some random bozo ranting into the wires? It’s still bullshit. See the link.

(preemptive apologies to the multiple people on my flist who linked to the story: I still love you. Hell, I got excited about it too for the first half hour or so. But let’s please please please not hand a loaded gun to our enemies, okay?)


I mostly stopped talking about politics here sometime a few years ago. A good leavening of despair over the 2004 election results, combined with the growing realization that not only does basically nobody care what I think about the issue du jour, but more importantly I don’t have the time or the inclination to put in the effort to make myself over into Yet Another C-list blogger who might convince, oh, entire dozens of people to give a shit about my opinion, and… yeah, lots more posts about my cats. For the best, I think.

So I’m going to say this very quickly and immediately get back to my normal routine here: if you haven’t voted yet today, consider not rewarding failure.

3,500 and counting dead Americans. To the nearest probable estimate, half a million and counting dead Iraqis. (Well, except that we very deliberately stopped counting.) Nearly half a trillion dollars tossed into the bonfire so far. No WMD, no emerging democracy, and no end in sight.

Anyone who voted in favor of this atrocity isn’t fit to be dogcatcher. She did. End of discussion.

(If you’re one of my few friends voting in the republican primary… um… have fun?)

Now, back to my cats.

once more, with feeling

If you panic and make a stupid mistake, it’s acceptable to say “I’m sorry, I made a mistake because I was in a panic.” We’re human, it happens. It is not acceptable to say “I was in a panic, therefore my actions were not actually mistaken.” You made a mistake: being frightened may have been the reason you made a mistake, but it does not somehow magically make the mistake into something else. Suck it up, own it, apologize (or don’t) and move the hell on.

I’d claim to be surprised that this even needs to be mentioned, but we’ve been here before, haven’t we?

no bystander is entirely innocent, but the lucky ones are amused…

(…or, “a parenthetical comment on a bit of internet drama obscure enough that if you don’t immediately understand the reference, you can congratulate yourself on having more of a life than yr humble narrator and move on.”)

Playing with fire is a lovely hobby. Many people say so. Even more people do it even though they never admit to it in public.

Yet somehow, those same people will often look askance at you if you insist on indulging in it their basement. And they’ll usually get downright snippish if you demand that they provide you with additional matches and kindling.

It’s really best not to act surprised by this. People will assume, correctly, that you haven’t been paying attention. To what? To everything.

best birthday ever?

The presents just keep coming:

Senator Ted “Bridge to Nowhere”, “A Series of Tubes”, “No! No! No” Stevens’ (R-Alaska) home raided by the FBI and IRS.

Articles of impeachment to be filed against Alberto “I don’t remember, I don’t recall, I’ve got no memory of anything at all” Gonzales.

Rupert “Evil Incarnate” Murdoch’s bid for the Wall Street Journal suddenly in trouble.

Dear Elvis: whatever it was I did this last year that you liked so much, I promise to do three times as much of it this year.

(It’s tempting to list John “Bong Hits 4 Strained Appeals to Strict Constructionism” Roberts seizures in the same breath, but even I have my limits for ghoulish obnoxiousness. I wish him a speedy recovery— although if he were to consider the benefits of a lower-stress job, that would of course be lovely.)

a little bile before bed

Like stalking and assaulting women? Don’t like going to jail for it? The city of Irvine, California has just the job for you: police officer.

gotta lay off the sauce

Okay, I obviously totally overindulged myself last night. I didn’t think I’d drunk too much, but I had these absoltuely amazing, completely vivid, totally fucked up dreams, which is always a good sign that I’ve had a few too many.

The dreams were intensely surreal. Like, check this out: I dreamt that the democratic party — OUR democratic party, mind you, the one that Howard Dean runs, not the normal dreamtime Democratic Party that’s run by a triumvirate of FDR, Corazon Aquino and Salma Hayek — took back the house by gaining like 30 seats in a single election. And right before the alarm went off and I woke up, it seemed like we were pretty close to taking the senate too.

Weird, I know. But in the dream it was totally plausible: it was one of those full-color jobs where you absolutely think you’re awake. I even posted to livejournal in my dream, which makes me an incredible nerd.

No more booze on a weeknight for me, I think. I can’t handle that level of weirdness in my own head.

So, right. while I go search for my coffee, who’d Bush declare war on today, and how many Democrats voted for it? I like to get the day’s bad news out of the way early, so don’t let me down easy, I’m a big boy.

putting a name on it

(okay, I lied. One more post tonight.)

1994 was, by popular acclaim, the “Republican Revolution”. What have we witnessed tonight?

Even assuming the GOP takes Montana and Virginia, I believe that the following is true:

Number of Democratic congressional seats lost: zero
Number of formerly-Democratic open congressional seats lost: zero
Number of Democratic gubernatorial seats lost: zero
Number of formerly-Democratic gubernatorial seats lost: zero

I invite corrections, but to the best of my knowledge, this has never happened in an election in this country before.

Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to welcome you all to: The Great Shut-Out of 2006.

this one’s for you, Harris Wofford

Maybe more to say tomorrow, but for now? Even if we don’t take the Senate (and I kinda doubt we will), of all of the various races in the country, not a single one is as sweet as this:

Say goodbye to…

…the frothy mixture.

And don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out, you pompous, ignorant, supercilious, inbred peckerwood.

like a horse and carriage

Well hey, we already had our own Heimatlandsicherheithauptamt, so obviously we needed an Ermächtigungsgesetz to go with it. You can’t have your pudding if you don’t eat your meat and all that.

(Before anyone says it: I knew Mike Godwin. I trolled with Mike Godwin. You, sir, are no Mike Godwin.)