8.31.2005

martha's vineyard fashion sightings

You should also notice that all the seams are "distressed".

8.30.2005

she never sleeps


Creepiest part of this story? Not the fact that a 22-year-old has married the 14-year-old mother of his child (though that does violate the half-your-age-plus-seven rule), but this:
The couple named their 7-pound, 1-ounce baby girl, born Wednesday morning, Samara Ann Koso, after a character in the horror movie "The Ring."
That settles it -- I am naming my first son "Travis Bickle".

8.23.2005

tuesday is gay day here at blognac

So I guess everyone is talking about Eugene Volokh's nutty rant about the gays trying to convert the straights. I think it is pretty silly and other blogs have done a good job of poking holes in it. But here's what sticks with me...

In a follow-up post, Volokh asks, "Why wouldn't gays and lesbians who think that homosexual behavior is just fine want these people to experiment with homosexual behavior?" That's a fair question, and I don't think there is any reason why they wouldn't. But here's an ever better question: Why wouldn't any person who thinks that homosexual behavior is just fine want interested people to experiment with homosexual behavior? Why does it have to be only gays and lesbians who encourage (or, in Volokh's words, convert) people to comfortable and satisfied with their sexual urges and behavior? Is that why their clubs are so much more fun (I've heard)?

Also, read this, via Atrios via Colin.

8.18.2005

coq roq


AUGUST 17--Claiming that its image and persona have been hijacked as part of a marketing campaign for Burger King's new chicken fries, the costumed heavy metal band Slipknot is threatening the fast food giant with legal action. In the below August 4 letter, the band's lawyers charge that Coq Roq--a mock metal band featured in new Burger King commercials--was created as a "look-alike, sound alike 'band' in order to influence the Slipknot generation to purchase Chicken Fries."
If there is really a "Slipknot generation" then we need to get out there and sterilize those little fucks as soon as humanly possible. Burger King, I beg of you, please cook the Chicken Fries in some kind of reproductive-organ-destroying oil.

haha, ann coulter's stupid

The Rude Pundit, in the middle of an all-around stellar post, drops what may be the best neologism since "asscunt" (a cunt without any gender connotation) or "gapple" (a manservant who exists only to bring you various kinds of soup). He writes,
And what are we to make of Ann Coulter, whose cuntistry knows no bounds or limitations?
That's right. Cuntistry. The art and/or science of being like a cunt.

Oh, and also, can we let this Israel business go? I don't know what Sheehan did or didn't say, though she denies writing the email ("I did not say that my son died for Israel. I have never said it, I don't think it, I don't believe it. It is just another lie, smear tactic from the right. It needs to die right now. It's not the truth"). I just don't think it matters. I really don't know if I think President Bush should meet with Sheehan a second time. I don't know if she's doing the right thing by setting up camp at Crawford. But how are her views on Israel relevant? Like, at all. Honestly, even if she were an anti-Israel anti-Semite it wouldn't have any impact on what she's doing in Crawford, which is looking for answers from President Bush.

Also, what do these song lyrics even mean:
Aiding and abetting the enemy.
How many ghosts did you make today?
Google me this, Google me that,
How many ghosts did you make today?
How did Google get involved with all this?

at least it missed the important parts

The AP reports that Housewife Eva Longoria was injured on set when some piece of the rigging ("a pole") fell on her head. How was she not critically injured, you ask? A Defamer reader has the explanation:
Thank goodness for a pretty little hat that she was wearing, which helped cushion the blow.
It may seem implausible that a mere hat could prevent some kind of grievous head injury, but, my friends, I have seen this happen. With my OWN EYES!

One day, I believe it was one of the last days of finals in my last semester of college, I was sitting at my desk when I heard some obviously-inebriated voices coming from below my second story window. They were shouting at the girl who lived below me and I recognized the voices as belonging to certain friends of mine. Being somewhat sleep-deprived at that point, I thought it would be funny for me to open my window and yell at these drunks (by the way, did I mention it was like 1PM?) to shut the fuck up. Well, as I do this, my window-opening action knocks a ceramic ashtray off my windowsill and it falls, in what appeared to be slow motion, onto the head of one of the drunk shouters. It sort of bounces off her head, hangs in the air for another split-second, and then breaks into two pieces on the ground.

Now, the victim here, she was not happy with me. After taking a few seconds to regain her wits, she begins to shout again: "Noah, get the fuck down here, I am going to fuck you up you pussy!" Yes, it was a she. But she played water polo and could probably have done a good deal of fucking-up. And, you see, my not-so-clearly-sarcastic "Shut the fuck up" combined with the incredible accuracy of the ashtray had caused everyone to think that I threw the ashtray at her head intentionally. It took quite a bit of work to convince them otherwise. Some of the witnesses still believe I threw it.

Anyway, the victim was wearing at hat. So all she got was a nasty bump and a little cut. So hats can save lives, like those of my drunk friend and Eva Longoria. Maybe that's why Eva always wears hats, even when she is wearing little else.

This woman also chooses to play it safe.

8.17.2005

i read slate so you don't have to

I would imagine that everyone who reads this blog is only here because they've finished everything (everything) on Slate (even that newish "has-been" thing that I haven't bothered to check out yet -- is it just Kausfiles with less formatting or is it actually good?). But, in case I'm wrong, here's what you should read before you ever think about coming back here:

Your Children Will Die From SuperHeroin!!!
I don't really write about media criticism that much, since I figure that if you're someone who wants to read media criticism you're probably pretty aware of media bullshit anyway. But I'm always really amused by the MSM's (yes, I just wrote MSM, my blogosphere membership card should be in the mail right about now) coverage of drugs. Amazingly alarmist, pretty inaccurate, and about 9-20 months behind the curve. This Jack Shafer piece discusses the recent coverage of heroin-related deaths in New York. He also links to this exceptionally stupid article about crystal meth:
Crystal meth is a stimulant, but because it destroys brain cells at such a rapid rate, its users are drawn to menial, repetitive activities.
I am not a doctor, and science scares me, but this doesn't seem to make any sense at all. You want to do menial and repetitive tasks because brain cells are being killed? So the process of brain cells dying makes you want to vacuum? That can't be right.

Who Are All These Greek Starlet-Fuckers?
Come to think of it, I have been hearing a lot about Greek shipping magnates recently. One of them is dating the cokey Olsen. The Explainer tells us why:
As of 2001, Greek companies owned around 3,000 merchant vessels -- more than any other country and about 18 percent of the world's fleet. The Greeks have been maritime traders for millennia, but the modern prominence of their shipping industry dates from the end of World War II.

Put That Camera Away! Seriously!
Dahlia Lithwick has John Roberts pegged:
I know this because I knew guys like him in college and at law school; we all knew guys like him. These were the guys who were certain, by age 19, that they couldn't smoke pot, or date trampy girls, or throw up off the top of the school clock tower because it would impair their confirmation chances. They would have done all these things, but for the possibility of being carved out of the history books for it.

arts and crafts are not cool

Ok, Jeff, how about instead of making collages on guitars you make another album? Deal? Sweet.


[via largeheartedboy]

8.15.2005

i like when meat is cooked in the rendered fat of another kind of animal


A bacon show (tagline: ONE BACON RECIPE PER DAY, EVERY DAY, FOREVER) is one of the best kinds of shows.

[from the Gurgling Cod]

8.12.2005

they are not made in sweatshops




And my dreams (literally -- I just had one last night) all come true. Thanks, Gridskipper.

8.11.2005

sharkblogging


I love The Surreal Life, but this is way, way better:
Comedienne Ruby Wax, actor Richard E Grant, athlete Colin Jackson and former Emmerdale star Amy Nuttall have agreed to appear in ITV1's Celebrity Shark Bait.

The four celebrities will undertake a two-day scuba diving course in an area off the coast of South Africa called Shark Alley. After completing the course, the stars will be placed into a metal cage and lowered into the water.
The Shark Trust has high hopes for the show:
The Trust hopes that ‘Celebrity Shark Bait’ will be taking a more constructive, innovative approach to the presentation of sharks, an approach that will allow ‘Celebrity Shark Bait’ to stand out from the endless ‘Shark attack’, ‘Danger in the water’ genre of shark based programming.
Yeah, celebritity reality shows usually take the high road.


[via Dive South Africa]

for the ladies


I didn't see this movie, and I am not suggesting that you see it, but some woman in my office had a Must Love Dogs screensaver and it was pretty awesome. Do people still use personalized screensavers? Where does screensaver use fall on the spectrum of kind-of-pathetic forms of self-expression? I suggested to someone earlier that it is somewhere between a Dilbert comic posted on one's cubicle and a bumper sticker. Thoughts?

Also, I think posting puppy screensavers is probably going to be incuded in Dobson's next set of tips.

stop having faggy thoughts, fag

I think my 5- to 11-year-old may be turning gay! How do I know for sure!?

Focus on Your Child has some tips for figuring out what's really going on. If your son likes being around girls (tip 4), gets called "fag" (tip 5), or has gay thoughts (tip 6), you are certainly raising a fruit.

But what can I do?


Oh, there is a lot that you can do. Suggestions for curing incipient homosexuality (courtesy of Dr. Joseph Nicolosi via experienced gay-saver Dr. James Dobson) include exposing your son to throwing, man-on-man wresting, pounding a "peg" into a hole where it barely fits (but in the end feels like that's where it was made to be), and penises larger than his.

I am kind and viciously tough



"He should be granted some privacy and dignity in his death."
That's talented and German documentary filmmaker Warner Herzog talking about Timothy Treadwell, the subject of his new film, Grizzly Man. For those of you who don't know the premise of the movie, here it is:
Having survived thirteen summers among the carnivores, [Treadwell] and his girlfriend were ravaged by a bear moments before they were to be transported back to the mainland. The 100 hours of footage left behind eventually found its way into Mr. Herzog’s hands.
That's "ravaged" in the killed and eaten sense, not in the messy-haired sex sense. So Herzog took the footage (combined with some of his own stuff) and edited it into a film. You know, for privacy's sake. Also, he included the audio recording of Grizzly Man and Girlfriend screaming helplessly while being mauled. Very private.

None of this should be taken to mean that I am not dying to see this movie. I am. Here's the trailer. And here's a sort of creepy excerpt from the last letter Treadwell ever wrote:
My transformation complete—-a fully accepted wild animal—-brother to these bears. I run free among them—-with absolute love and respect for all the animals. I am kind and viciously tough.


UPDATE: I am an idiot. The audio recording is not in the movie and Herzog would never (never!) invade dude's privacy. According to Salon:
You may learn more about the gruesome details of Treadwell and Huguenard's deaths than you want to know, but Herzog never shows us the autopsy photographs or plays the notorious audiotape of their killings. (One of them evidently turned the camera on when the attack began, but never took the lens cap off.) In perhaps the film's most dramatic scene, Treadwell's ex-girlfriend and executor, Jewel Palovak, allows Herzog to hear the tape through earphones. He listens for 30 seconds or so, then takes the phones off. "You must never listen to this, Jewel," he tells her. (Later he tells her to destroy the tape -- otherwise, the temptation to hear it will always be with her.)