"...White men were one hundred percent of the people who wrote the constitution, one hundred percent of the people who signed the declaration of independence, 100% of the people who died at Gettysburg and Vicksburg, probably close to 100% of the people who died at Normandy. This is a country built by white folks, basically..."Well, Maddow has responded and issued a correction to Buchanans racist falsehoods...
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Pat Buchanan = Racist Gasbag; Rachel Maddow = Made of Win
In case you hadn't heard this, perennial bigot and Pat Buchanan, who is inexplicably still employed by MSNBC, went on the Rachel Maddow. Buchanan was arguing that Sotomayor did not deserve to be on the supreme court because she hadn't written any law review papers "that I [Buchanan] have read," and because the seat rightly belonged to a white man, because...
Monday, July 20, 2009
"and today he's invented me murdering my son:
This has already appear just about everywhere, but it's so great I have to share it here as well...
Instead of just venting rage, here are some pics of the Doctor Who
I'm really quite frustrated with real-life events today.
Quite frustrated actually doesn't even begin to summarize it.
But I don't want that to spill over here or get anyone else down...
So instead, here are some of the first set pics of Matt Smith as the new Doctor Who and Karen Gillan as companion Amy, courtesy Blogtor Who... A bowtie, seriously? He looks like Tucker Carlson. Also -- and I'm saying this as one of the palest people on the face of the earth -- don't these two look like they need a bit of sun?
Can't comment his the acting yet, of course. I'm hopeful, but I still wish it had been Patterson Joseph in that, um... bowtie. He'd have been brilliant:
Quite frustrated actually doesn't even begin to summarize it.
But I don't want that to spill over here or get anyone else down...
So instead, here are some of the first set pics of Matt Smith as the new Doctor Who and Karen Gillan as companion Amy, courtesy Blogtor Who... A bowtie, seriously? He looks like Tucker Carlson. Also -- and I'm saying this as one of the palest people on the face of the earth -- don't these two look like they need a bit of sun?
Can't comment his the acting yet, of course. I'm hopeful, but I still wish it had been Patterson Joseph in that, um... bowtie. He'd have been brilliant:
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Main Street Plaza Kiss In
I can't really say anything that hasn't been said on this already, so I'll just leave it to Jen at Blag Hag (a blog I'm coming to enjoy quite a lot! :) ), when it comes to the leadership of the large religious organization located at the heart of my fair city:
I hope gays make out in front of all of your temples every day until you wise up.Nice. :)
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Categories and Labels: a Manifesto
There are many categories I or others might consider myself a part of. Some of these are fairly trivial in their consequences, some are shaped by my society, some shape my role in that society. Some are completely self-applied and help shape the lenses through which I view the world.
Now, labels are just labels. There is a huge variety of opinions within any group. And anyone can throw labels onto themselves that other people might take issue with. The Pussycat Dolls claim to be a feminist band. Bill O'Reilly calls himself a centrist. I, on the other hand, might label him a "douchebag." He in turn would then label me a "pinhead," and so on. We humans like to put things in categories. They make things easier to understand. Categories can be useful, even self-applied categories. But it's important to recognize that they're artificial.
Today, I want to address several of these labels that I readily apply to myself. The ones through which I see the world, as I mentioned above. I'm a far-left liberal, a skeptic, a feminist, an atheist, a humanist, an agnostic, a science-enthusiast, and on and on and on.
I don't see any conflict between belonging to any of those categories I listed above. But why do I apply those particular labels to myself?
I'm a humanist, a skeptic, a science enthusiast, an atheist, and an agnostic because I believe there are things we do know, things we don't know and things we can't know.
In the case of things we do know, I revel in them. I am awed by the fact that we are the products of billions of years of evolution from simple chemical chain reactions to complex creatures that can turn around and consciously know that we are the result of said chain reactions. We are self-aware. Isn't that cool? And those chemical reactions are in turn made possible by billions of years more of stars coalescing from clouds of pure hydrogen, burning for periods of time longer than we can really even conceptualize beyond pure numbers, then exploding in a confetti of oxygen, carbon, neon, copper and all the other elements that make up everything we see, including the eyes we see them with... That is awe inspiring stuff.
And things we don't know? Science is the journey to turn these things into things we do know. It's that self-awareness I mentioned, looking deeper, trying to understand how things are the way they are. And it's by far the best tool we have for doing this.
Then there are the things we can't know. Did a god create the universe? Well, unless it appears before us and presents irrefutable evidence that it did, we have no way of knowing. I personally think this is unlikely, which is why I call myself an atheist. I do not believe that gods exist. Can I prove it? Of course not, but I likewise cannot prove that leprechauns do not exist, such is the nature of magic and supernatural beings. But I cannot know whether or not gods exist. Thus I am both an atheist and an agnostic. One is a statement of belief ("I do not believe that gods exist") and the other, one of knowledge ("I cannot know whether they do or not").
And I'm a skeptic because we live in a beautiful, natural world filled with wondrous things, and do not feel the need to sully the gorgeous wonder of our universe by muddying it up with crass notions for which there are no evidence, such as gods, anal-raping aliens, or using the magical "memory" properties of water to treat real illness.
I'm a feminist. I'm a humanist. I'm a political liberal. I'm these things because I think all people should be equal, that everyone in our world should have the same opportunities, regardless of gender identification, race, nationality or because of those with whom they choose to share their life or their bed. I believe that we need to listen to each other. I believe that we are all informed by our background. I believe that, for instance, white males -- a demographic to which I belong -- collectively have a hugely disproportionate voice. I believe that women, non-whites, gender and sexual minorities, religious minorities, cultural minorities, and countless other groups have been and continue to be disenfranchised and we need to do everything we can as a culture to correct this. No one's thoughts should be dicarded or discounted because he or she belongs to any particular group. This includes everyone, from bisexual libertarian Arab Scientologist men to straight Marxist white atheist women.
I do not believe, however, that one's statements should be exempt from critique simply because either the speaker of the critic belongs to any one group or another. I was dismayed recently at the reaction on a feminist website when a few commentators disagreed with the post or even just added information in the initial post. The reaction was not to critique the content of the comments, but to malign the character of the commenters for happening to belong to a group (in this case, being non-disabled) of privilege. It's absolutely true that being disabled gives one a different perspective, and that our society is built around the non-disabled.
But squelching discourse, to say that someone in a "priviledged" group is not even entitled to an opinion, that's wrong. And it's hateful. And I will condemn it when it's done in a group I identify with every bit as much as when it's done elsewhere.
Now, labels are just labels. There is a huge variety of opinions within any group. And anyone can throw labels onto themselves that other people might take issue with. The Pussycat Dolls claim to be a feminist band. Bill O'Reilly calls himself a centrist. I, on the other hand, might label him a "douchebag." He in turn would then label me a "pinhead," and so on. We humans like to put things in categories. They make things easier to understand. Categories can be useful, even self-applied categories. But it's important to recognize that they're artificial.
Today, I want to address several of these labels that I readily apply to myself. The ones through which I see the world, as I mentioned above. I'm a far-left liberal, a skeptic, a feminist, an atheist, a humanist, an agnostic, a science-enthusiast, and on and on and on.
I don't see any conflict between belonging to any of those categories I listed above. But why do I apply those particular labels to myself?
I'm a humanist, a skeptic, a science enthusiast, an atheist, and an agnostic because I believe there are things we do know, things we don't know and things we can't know.
In the case of things we do know, I revel in them. I am awed by the fact that we are the products of billions of years of evolution from simple chemical chain reactions to complex creatures that can turn around and consciously know that we are the result of said chain reactions. We are self-aware. Isn't that cool? And those chemical reactions are in turn made possible by billions of years more of stars coalescing from clouds of pure hydrogen, burning for periods of time longer than we can really even conceptualize beyond pure numbers, then exploding in a confetti of oxygen, carbon, neon, copper and all the other elements that make up everything we see, including the eyes we see them with... That is awe inspiring stuff.
And things we don't know? Science is the journey to turn these things into things we do know. It's that self-awareness I mentioned, looking deeper, trying to understand how things are the way they are. And it's by far the best tool we have for doing this.
Then there are the things we can't know. Did a god create the universe? Well, unless it appears before us and presents irrefutable evidence that it did, we have no way of knowing. I personally think this is unlikely, which is why I call myself an atheist. I do not believe that gods exist. Can I prove it? Of course not, but I likewise cannot prove that leprechauns do not exist, such is the nature of magic and supernatural beings. But I cannot know whether or not gods exist. Thus I am both an atheist and an agnostic. One is a statement of belief ("I do not believe that gods exist") and the other, one of knowledge ("I cannot know whether they do or not").
And I'm a skeptic because we live in a beautiful, natural world filled with wondrous things, and do not feel the need to sully the gorgeous wonder of our universe by muddying it up with crass notions for which there are no evidence, such as gods, anal-raping aliens, or using the magical "memory" properties of water to treat real illness.
I'm a feminist. I'm a humanist. I'm a political liberal. I'm these things because I think all people should be equal, that everyone in our world should have the same opportunities, regardless of gender identification, race, nationality or because of those with whom they choose to share their life or their bed. I believe that we need to listen to each other. I believe that we are all informed by our background. I believe that, for instance, white males -- a demographic to which I belong -- collectively have a hugely disproportionate voice. I believe that women, non-whites, gender and sexual minorities, religious minorities, cultural minorities, and countless other groups have been and continue to be disenfranchised and we need to do everything we can as a culture to correct this. No one's thoughts should be dicarded or discounted because he or she belongs to any particular group. This includes everyone, from bisexual libertarian Arab Scientologist men to straight Marxist white atheist women.
I do not believe, however, that one's statements should be exempt from critique simply because either the speaker of the critic belongs to any one group or another. I was dismayed recently at the reaction on a feminist website when a few commentators disagreed with the post or even just added information in the initial post. The reaction was not to critique the content of the comments, but to malign the character of the commenters for happening to belong to a group (in this case, being non-disabled) of privilege. It's absolutely true that being disabled gives one a different perspective, and that our society is built around the non-disabled.
But squelching discourse, to say that someone in a "priviledged" group is not even entitled to an opinion, that's wrong. And it's hateful. And I will condemn it when it's done in a group I identify with every bit as much as when it's done elsewhere.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
What the hell is wrong with me?
Last night, I committed a horrible and unconscionable act. Something I regret woefully. Yes, I watched Transformers: Revenge of the Falllen.
Why do I do this kind of thing to myself. After seeing the trailer, I already knew it was going to be utter crap, and had no desire to see it... but then the reviews started pouring in. And. They. Are. Scathing.
Now, a normal person would read things like "Transformers 2 has a shot at the title Worst Movie of the Decade," and they'd think to themselves, "huh, guess I'll avoid that one for sure!"
But me? No. I think "Hmmm... Now I NEED to see it." I have a track record with this kind of thing. It's why I watched Twilight. It's why I saw (and blogged about) Expelled: there are bad movies, and there are fiascoes. And I can't help myself with fiascoes.
Let it be known: Transformers 2 is a fiasco.
First off: it's a sloppy movie. Early on -- when the Autobots (the good guys) are tracking down and brutally murdering what is left of the Decepticons, who are now hiding and scattered in diaspora -- there are three motorcycle transformers called the "Arcee Twins." Yep. That's some good math. We don't see them again until the final battle, when one of them, now just called "Arcee" reappears. So, are there one, two, or three Arcees?
Ah, but I'm nitpicking. There is so much wrong with this travesty of a film. And it goes far beyond bad math (though there's more of that, too, as others have noted: At one point, a naval officer detects five Decepticons headed to the ocean floor. There, one of them becomes spare parts to fix Megatron. When the remaining four plus Megatron resurface (note: 5 - 1 + 1 = 5), the naval officer annouces that SIX targets are coming up! Ominous!).
There's been a fair amount of criticism af Skidz and Mudflap, two new robots designed to be the comic relief, and clear racist stereotypes. One of them has a gold tooth, and they don't know how to read, cuz dey's from da inna city. Honestly, I'd not have been surprised if they ended up eating fried chicken and watermelon. Jesus Christ.
And what about female characters? Let's review all of them:
First, there's Mikaela, Megan Fox's character. She is an even flatter, shallower character than she was in a the first film, and that's saying something. Everyone in the film, INCLUDING FREAKING ROBOTS is constantly remarking on how hot she is. Hot hot hot. One Joe Pesci-ish robot even humps her leg for laughs, such is her irresistable charm. She has two roles here: be hot, and be a good girlfriend.
Next up: the Arcee "Twins." These are robots, but they are clearly female in that they have skinny hips and boobs. They are in the movie for maybe 30 seconds, and the filmmakers can't even keep straight how many of them there are. For 30 freaking seconds.
Alice: I think that was her name. She's the hot hot hot seductress on campus, secretly a robot the Decepticons enrolled into Sam's college, just in case Sam ended up being important again (Surprise! He did!). As this awesome "Transformers 2 FAQ" put it: "The slut-bot made out with [Sam] for a little bit then immediately tried to kill him, neither for any apparent motive or gain."
Then finally: Sam's mom. She buys a magic brownie at Sam's college, which has a picture of a marijuana leaf on it, and which everyone in the room warns her is a pot brownie. She is sure the green leaf just means all-natural, or something, and she downs the thing. Because she is daft, apparently.
And that's it That's every female role in the film. Other than that, the movie is a scrotum-fest. And unfortunately, I'm not being facetious: one of the giant robots has a huge pair of testicles made of wrecking balls. I imagine that John Turturro must have been rethinking his career choice when he was uttering this line from the film:
I can't really bring myself to say much more about this film, but I HIGHLY encourage you too read this hilarious Transformers 2 FAQ. Here's a taste:
Why do I do this kind of thing to myself. After seeing the trailer, I already knew it was going to be utter crap, and had no desire to see it... but then the reviews started pouring in. And. They. Are. Scathing.
Now, a normal person would read things like "Transformers 2 has a shot at the title Worst Movie of the Decade," and they'd think to themselves, "huh, guess I'll avoid that one for sure!"
But me? No. I think "Hmmm... Now I NEED to see it." I have a track record with this kind of thing. It's why I watched Twilight. It's why I saw (and blogged about) Expelled: there are bad movies, and there are fiascoes. And I can't help myself with fiascoes.
Let it be known: Transformers 2 is a fiasco.
First off: it's a sloppy movie. Early on -- when the Autobots (the good guys) are tracking down and brutally murdering what is left of the Decepticons, who are now hiding and scattered in diaspora -- there are three motorcycle transformers called the "Arcee Twins." Yep. That's some good math. We don't see them again until the final battle, when one of them, now just called "Arcee" reappears. So, are there one, two, or three Arcees?
Ah, but I'm nitpicking. There is so much wrong with this travesty of a film. And it goes far beyond bad math (though there's more of that, too, as others have noted: At one point, a naval officer detects five Decepticons headed to the ocean floor. There, one of them becomes spare parts to fix Megatron. When the remaining four plus Megatron resurface (note: 5 - 1 + 1 = 5), the naval officer annouces that SIX targets are coming up! Ominous!).
There's been a fair amount of criticism af Skidz and Mudflap, two new robots designed to be the comic relief, and clear racist stereotypes. One of them has a gold tooth, and they don't know how to read, cuz dey's from da inna city. Honestly, I'd not have been surprised if they ended up eating fried chicken and watermelon. Jesus Christ.
And what about female characters? Let's review all of them:
First, there's Mikaela, Megan Fox's character. She is an even flatter, shallower character than she was in a the first film, and that's saying something. Everyone in the film, INCLUDING FREAKING ROBOTS is constantly remarking on how hot she is. Hot hot hot. One Joe Pesci-ish robot even humps her leg for laughs, such is her irresistable charm. She has two roles here: be hot, and be a good girlfriend.
Next up: the Arcee "Twins." These are robots, but they are clearly female in that they have skinny hips and boobs. They are in the movie for maybe 30 seconds, and the filmmakers can't even keep straight how many of them there are. For 30 freaking seconds.
Alice: I think that was her name. She's the hot hot hot seductress on campus, secretly a robot the Decepticons enrolled into Sam's college, just in case Sam ended up being important again (Surprise! He did!). As this awesome "Transformers 2 FAQ" put it: "The slut-bot made out with [Sam] for a little bit then immediately tried to kill him, neither for any apparent motive or gain."
Then finally: Sam's mom. She buys a magic brownie at Sam's college, which has a picture of a marijuana leaf on it, and which everyone in the room warns her is a pot brownie. She is sure the green leaf just means all-natural, or something, and she downs the thing. Because she is daft, apparently.
And that's it That's every female role in the film. Other than that, the movie is a scrotum-fest. And unfortunately, I'm not being facetious: one of the giant robots has a huge pair of testicles made of wrecking balls. I imagine that John Turturro must have been rethinking his career choice when he was uttering this line from the film:
I am standing directly beneath the enemy's scrotum.Wow.
I can't really bring myself to say much more about this film, but I HIGHLY encourage you too read this hilarious Transformers 2 FAQ. Here's a taste:
Transformers don't teleport.lol
Jetfire does.
But -- wait a second, he's a fucking jet. He could fly everybody to Egypt, right? And that would make perfect sense for both the character and the franchise!
Well, I guess so. But he chooses not to. The point is Jetfire teleports them all to Egypt where he explains that there used to be 7 or 8 Primes, and they traveled around the galaxy blowing up suns for energon. But they never did it on planets with life.
Well, they had set the machine up on Earth and not noticed all the life running around, and one of the Primes just said fuck it, let's do it anyways. This was evil, so they called that Prime the Fallen and beat the shit out of him although he escaped.
Why would a robot need to fart, pee, or vomit? And why would it need testicles?
Michael Bay does not understand what a robot is.
I am already incredibly sick of this movie, and I'm just typing questions about it. Sam resurrects Optimus, Optimus kills the Fallen, end of story, right?
Pretty close. Sam dies, though.
Really?
Yeah, for a little while. But then the Transformers in heaven send him back because he still has work to do.
Fuck you.
I'm serious.
Fuck you. There's no way.
It's true. The 6-7 Primes are there in the clouds like Mufasa's head in The Lion King, and tell Sam he's awesome and he needs to live again so he can bring Optimus back to life.
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