Better to frighten my children by posing them on the lap of some creep in a polyester bunny suit than delivering them to a room full of creeps in their Sunday best. Whereas creepiness is concerned, polyester is always involved.
Otherwise please meet with family. Enjoy your time with them if possible. Eat a ham or something. Jesus would be pleased by that.
With sincerity, please have a good day. Happy Easter from madmonq’s joint.
P.S. I actually scared myself a little creating this post. Sincerely.
That would be a compliment.TheConeheaded people of the planet Remulak are meant to be superintelligent. I’m afraid that despite her hair bump describing Sarah Palin as regular-intelligent would be a stretch. In fact New Jersey styled big hair is practically a birth defect among most earthers (Excludingthe Birthers. Amongst them a bone in your head is practically a requirement. And if you are aNew Jersey Birther, YOUR HEADS ARE MADE OF A DISGUSTING SOLID BONE / HAIR COMBINATION. YOU ARE PRACTICALLY KLINGON).
Bone head...
...Or head bump. You decide.
Whereas Mrs Palin’s head, that bump is all bone. My long-standing crush for Ms. Jane Curtin would not allow me to say anything else. The deeply disturbed but truly hilarious Tracy Morganmay think otherwise and be turned on by her Neanderthal head. I guess you don’t need an egg-shaped head to be a bonehead. Mepps!
No signature red Sarah Palin jacket on Tracy in this photo, right?
Later he's seen wearing it. With Sarah Palin. I'm just saying.
My final guess is that Sarah Palin is aPinhead. Not in the Bill O’Reilly 1970s tough cop bullsh!t style but in the most upsetting combination of stupid evil. She isZippy the PinheadmeetsPinhead of the Cenobites. Bonehead, Conehead or Pinhead Sarah Palin will tear. Your soul. Apart.
Some months ago I found myself awake in the middle of the night with two tiny people I barely knew and who barely knew me, trusting me with their night feeding. As they were newborns they didn’t even know from choice and I obviously didn’t know what I had gotten myself into. Bleary eyed and exhausted, sleepless in the dark and the night will always play tricks on you. Given considerable responsibilites and live long changes you find yourself in, you don’t think you will ever get over the shock of it: Bringing 2 new people into the world. It seems like the dumbest thing you’ve ever done and now you’ve got to deal with it.
I am watching “Imagine:John Lennon“, a documentary made in 1988, 8 years after his death. The short film for the song “Strawberry Fields Forever” comes on and I find myself removed from the babies. I’ve heard the song a million times, but the dark, the night, the strange context I’ve found myself in make it sound new again. I’m lost in it.
The song was made during one of the groups’ transitional periods. The Beatles were still better known at that time as a four-headed monster with the same hair cut, a boy band basically, maturing and eventually becoming (and I say this with no exaggeration) multicultural multigenerational pop culture superstars. Gods, if that sort of thing is to be believed and one doesn’t look too closely.
Such is the documentary. A close look at a fallen idol, warts and all. Because of the context, because of the late hour, because of the thousands of lost hours of sleep, and lost sleep to still to come, I am very susceptible to the subject and subject matter. I feel very vulnerable about me, my marriage, the children, my place in the world that I cannot help but yet again feel related to this fairly flawed fairly trouble multimillionaire British pop star. He is human after all. Later, after the Beatles, he makes a point of highlighting how much we all, after all are human, boring and extraordinary at the same time. Sitting up surrounded by two proto-people, in the dark and very alone with my thoughts, I know what he means.
This is my son
This is my daughter
This is my wife
This video is more about the song lyrics here than it is about the images, obviously.
You should know that when ”Double Fantasy” was released 30 years ago after the death of John Lennon it wasn’t very well received. It’s not that it was bad, it just wasn’t as good as some of his earlier work. What’s remarkable about it is that he is happily singing about middle aged family life. It’s not boring but fun. His trademark honesty is apparent even if the subject matter isn’t interesting to anyone but me I suppose. I think people were expecting fire and brimstone music and lyrics. What they got was, in many ways, an average guy who was very happy with his life at the time. I think I know how he felt.
I cannot help but feel quite ordinary & quite extraordinary. You should too. There’s not much more that we can do about it but choose to be happy. Not stupid but happy. Reasoning, choice and compassion are the center of all human power. Reason. Difficult to use wisely. Chosing happiness is the easy one. Living it is another thing. I’m still working on it, I’m just glad to know that choosing a bit of optimism was justified for once.
No need to be alone.
Happy Christmas, Easter, Kwanza, um Hanukkah & anything else you need to get you through the night. It’s alright. Just don’t be a jerk about it.
So why is the sex barrier not taken as seriously as the racial one? The reasons are as pervasive as the air we breathe: because sexism is still confused with nature as racism once was; because anything that affects males is seen as more serious than anything that affects “only” the female half of the human race; because children are still raised mostly by women (to put it mildly) so men especially tend to feel they are regressing to childhood when dealing with a powerful woman; because racism stereotyped black men as more “masculine” for so long that some white men find their presence to be masculinity-affirming (as long as there aren’t too many of them); and because there is still no “right” way to be a woman in public power without being considered a you-know-what.
I’m not advocating a competition for who has it toughest. The caste systems of sex and race are interdependent and can only be uprooted together. That’s why Senators Clinton and Obama have to be careful not to let a healthy debate turn into the kind of hostility that the news media love. Both will need a coalition of outsiders to win a general election. The abolition and suffrage movements progressed when united and were damaged by division; we should remember that.
I’m supporting Senator Clinton because like Senator Obama she has community organizing experience, but she also has more years in the Senate, an unprecedented eight years of on-the-job training in the White House, no masculinity to prove, the potential to tap a huge reservoir of this country’s talent by her example, and now even the courage to break the no-tears rule. I’m not opposing Mr. Obama; if he’s the nominee, I’ll volunteer. Indeed, if you look at votes during their two-year overlap in the Senate, they were the same more than 90 percent of the time. Besides, to clean up the mess left by President Bush, we may need two terms of President Clinton and two of President Obama.
Jaysus I’m not a big Clinton fan but that’s a good argument. All the challenging perspectives I’ve been looking for are summed up in this essay. I still think Obama is the better candidate, but now I think I see why I think so. Steinem seems to be the only one left still backing Hillary Clinton.
These are the top 3 most email articles on the NY Times website at this time.
Maureen Dowd: Can Hillary Cry Her Way Back to the White House?
Op-Ed Contributor Gloria Steinum: Woman are never Front-Runners
Corpse Wheeled to Check-Cashing Store Leads to 2 Arrests
There are so many that when the kids grow up they may mistakenly date. Or maybe not so mistakenly.
I am talking about the purposeful existence of theDugger Familyand the philosophy called “quiverfull“. They believe it’s biblically mandated to have as many children as possible. I am properly creeped out.
The Duggers are up to 17. Seventeen. Each successive child just encourages them to have more. It’s God’s blessing after all. If you have any less then, of course, God hates you. I’m wondering if each blessing is like a book of green stamps. You know, after collecting so many you can turn them in for a blender. Or a personal life. I’d at least like to have the option.
Seventeen kids makes sense if you lived in an agrarian society. Someone has to work the field and you don’t have to pay them. In the Dugger’s case they are taken care of relatively well. But in modern life seventeen kids are not the Brady Bunch but a side show attraction.
Stray dogs don’t have a choice in how many puppies they have. Neither do quiverful women. Mrs Dugger should. She is presumably an active participant in the process but when you’ve got a man who wants that for you andit’s God’s will, what’s a girl to do? It’s deeply upsetting these woman are used as some sort of plantation slave not given a choice. God says so. Disagreeance isn’t an option. She is subject to the man and her body belongs to him. Despite having sex at least 17 times, something tells me it’s not really enjoyable for either of them. If they both get bored with churnin’ out chillins they would probably enjoy scatology. No doubt they’d find a biblical justification for it and it almost amounts to what they’ve got now.
Wanna have kids? Sure. Adoption? Yes. Polluting, no. The implications of birthing 17 or more republicans for Jesus smacks of the kind of mania we’re meant to be fighting in the war on terror. The kind that uses an open society against itself and brings buildings down. I’d like to think choice is the sign of an advanced, civil society. Then the Dugger’s come along and fuck it up for everyone.
Huh. Quiverful philosophy may qualify asPestilencein the Four Horsefaces of the Apocalypse.
Now if you'll excuse me I do believe I have a case of the vapors 2 hours ago
Knowing @DavidBHayter read ur tweet is the definition of glee.Also surprising like a step from the dark.Well done Mr Hayter.You do both well 2 hours ago
