Tuesday, March 29, 2011

The Literature of Self-Disclosure

It's kind of interesting -- well, appalling really -- to observe people's behavior on the Metro and speculate on how it encapsulates, epitomizes or otherwise discloses their overall style of living. For instance a significant portion of able-bodied Metro riders take the free ride up the escalator instead of humping their lazy asses up the stairs, as would be better for them, and contribute to system efficiency. Does this mean they are parasitic, free-riding, schlubs in all their dealings, or does it just mean they're a little oblivious or self-indulgent in this relatively small matter? Frankly, I suspect the former, but I'm not sure. And of course there will be times when we all need to take the free ride, and we should be allowed to.

Another aspect of Metropology is reading matter. At the entrances to most stations there will be, weekday mornings, some poorly-paid black people handing out free newspapers, the Express and the Examiner. The former is a "digested" and dumbed-down version of the center-right Washington Post and the latter is the far-right corporatist propaganda sheet of reactionary billionaire Phil Anschutz. (I once spent an afternoon in Phil's company, watching him watch a sporting contest involving one of his many franchises and I am happy to report that his drink of choice on that occasion was Coors Lite, over ice. I think that speaks volumes. ) About half the people on the Metro during morning rush hour will be reading one of these rags, and one must wonder, does their choice declare their political leanings and affiliations? Alas, I suspect it does. Of course a lot of people are also reading really really really creepy stuff, like the Bible (especially popular among Marine officers) and Ayn Rand, and you don't even want to know what these people are up to when not on the train.

There is a certain odious type one sees around town but not so much on the Metro, as the Metro smacks of liberality and socialism. It were better that Republicans motor around in big-block gas-guzzlers whenever possible. Still, some do ride the Metro. And you can be sure that the fat white guy in the red tie and the Burberry, doing his level best to take up all of the two seats -- so as not to have to share with a tree-hugger or a negro, and also just because he deserves it for his many John Galtian contributions to society -- will be reading the corporatist rag with great, self-satisfed concentration. Some people can even read smugly.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Butt Seriously Folks

Today when I arrived at the Ministry I stepped into an elevator redolent of someone's very recent and vitriolic fart. How rude! It was still vaguely there about half an hour later, having, I supppose, infused the carpetimg. It got me thinking about recent news, which is to say the trend of the last 50 years or so, and it inspired this little lift from Auden: To Republicans hypocrisy is like the smell of their own farts; they secretly like it and they think nobody else notices.

One of Obama's great "strengths" is his prowess at ignoring such farts in the elevator, as if they came from Granny -- the poor dear. The GOP knows that he can be counted on to never point a finger at the authors.

A second, only tangentially related point here: the other day the headline of the year was published, "Crack Found in Man's Buttocks." Tres amusante. Less amusing was the story beneath it, the one which details the drug bust which produced the headline. My bullshit detector went off with a loud flatulent tone when I read it.

You can bet large amounts of money that what happened here was the man in the photo was pulled over for driving while black, then shaken down, and afterwards the probable cause -- the "leafy substance" on the floor of the car -- was dreamed up to make the search sound legal. Soon the officer who squeezeed that one out will be in court testilying, commiting a felony in the name of law enforcement. This happens every single business day in every single city in America. It's just one of the many benefits of America's eternal War on Drugs, one of the reasons our why our prison population is so disproportionately black, and one of the infinitely many fragrances of right-wing hypocrisy.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Pole Dancing for Jesus

Crystal Dean, who was probably doomed to become a stripper when her parents gave her that porno-name, offers "Pole Dancing for Jesus" classes in Spring, Texas (of course it's Texas), where also of course the local Faux News affiliate is all over it. She says she was "raised around religion n' all" and as a result is "very Christian." She's quite sure that "she's good with God" who "doesn't judge" but if we wanna judge her, go ahead.

Personally I've got nothing against pole dancing. I don't very often go vote for it with a big wad of Washingtons, but I have done so in the past, in such Temples of Terpsichore as Crazy Girls, Jumbo's Clown Room, and Seventh Veil, but that was when I was in L.A. and required to take meetings under such taxing circumstances. Still, I suspect that Jesus would have no problem with pole dancing, so long as the performers were tolerant, peaceful and charitable. He might disapprove of those joints where the dancers are encouraged to feign interest in the customers so as to extract money, but I'm sure Crystal was never like that.

I can't say I much care for the brand of theology that says, 'God doesn't judge.' This is pretty much George W's brand of laissez-faire Christianity: 'Jesus forgives us so, fuck it, bring on the waterboards.'

Finally, I can't say that I actually believe the account, but I do like the anecdote: Crystal says that some folks have come around literally thumping her door with their Bibles for conflating Jesus and sexy nekkedness in this way. I would really like to see some video of that.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Big (Insert Size-Joke Here) Love

So, last weekend I undertook a difficult and dangerous mission to the Nutmeg State. This is a dangerous place, apparently awash with the sort of Islamo-Socialists who elect governors who at least give lip service to raising revenues by taxing the rich. I frequented the art galleries of New Haven and the better restaurants of the area so as not to associate with such Enemies of Private Property. (They were blessedly undergrad free, since they're all decamped for Spring Break to places without drinking ages.)

I got back in time to watch, at the Lobbysist's Pleasure Palace, the finale of Big Love which I thought they pulled off about as well as it could be done. I thought the little nod toward reconciliation between Nickie and her sexpot daughter made no sense whatsoever, and I didn't much care for Margene's haircut in the final scene, but in general it was good TV. Brilliant that the plodding, Bushite neighbor should assert his flagging manhood in such crystalline Second Amendment style. I mean, if you can't shoot a man for preƫmptively sodding your lawn, what kind of country is this?

I was a little disappoint that there wasn't some graphic depiction of lesbian epiphany among the sister-wives, since it seemed to me that's the way the narrative really wanted to go. But maybe that's my series and not theirs.

Monday, March 14, 2011

What He Said.

I meant to piss on the passing of that old Clinton-hater David Broder, but it was difficult to come up with anything especially pithy (Know: pun intended.) about his particularly bland brand of evil's banality. Fortunately somebody was more inspired than I am on this subject: Driftglass. So I'll just let him do the talking. Here is a pithy sample:

David Broder -- this "Dean of the Washington press corps" -- totally missed out on covering the greatest story of his time; the utter collapse of the American news media and the mutation of the GOP from a political party into a dangerously fascistic cesspit of oligarchs, lunatics and rubes.It was a story which his background and years of hard work had almost uniquely prepared him to cover, and one that was literally staring him in the face for much of the last 20 years.

And he completely fucking blew it.

So megadittoes Driftglass, thanks for reminding us what a milquetoast shithead Broder was. By the way, I recommend clicking through to the Driftglass site, and checking out the new masthead, one of the most fabulous in the whole Blogosphere.

Wednesday, March 09, 2011

Euthanize NPR

So the Republicans are going to try again to defund NPR, and use as ammunition the fact that an executive was videotaped calling the Tea Partiers racist. Meanhwile NPR suspends the executive, who's on the way out the door anyway, for telling the abundantly obvious truth. It just goes to show you, NPR should indeed be defunded, because they're craven chickenshits too ready to trim their sails to the breaking of GOP winds. Once upon a time, say about 1986, NPR news provided useful counterpoint to Reaganaut bullshit and corporate shilling. But those days are long gone. The slant at NPR is distinctly rightward these days. Sure they don't drop as many g's as the Bushies and so lazy complacent suburbanites still think of them as the voice of Liberalism, but I haven't heard on NPR a vigorous critique of anything corporate, military, right wing or even downright facist since at least 9/11. Somehow they always manage to provide a weak paraphrase of the sane position, and then turn the mike over to a well-prepared shill for the GOP interest who provides the last polished turd. And then the NPR folks go home to their Bethesda McMansions confident they've provided balanced journalism. Maybe shaking Fawn Williams' hand on the way out the door.

Well, a false friend is worse than a frank enemy. I can get classical music from Pandora. com and anything I want from sattelite radio. NPR, drop fucking dead.

Saturday, March 05, 2011

Plaza Mayor

I know my fans will want to know that I'm safely returned from another dangerous tax-paid mission abroad where I was menaced at every turn with rich food, strong drink, seductive exotics, and worst of all, treasures of Western Culture. I eluded the forces of evil by spending all my free time on the move -- trekking through the ancient, labyrinthine streets, in and out and around the vast major art galleries, cathedrals, palaces amd parks, never retracting my steps (unless totally lost), never dining in the same fabulous restaurant twice, or not twice in a row anyway. Thus did I shake any surveillance the forces of evil might have attempted, and so was able to accomplish my vital mission in the furtherance of Goodness and Freedom.
Above you can see somehard intelligence: two lads looking on as a foreign agent deploys a vast weaponized soap bubble, designed to dazzle and confuse our troops in the field. Either that or he's unrolling the world's largest superthin condom -- which would suggest that America is falling dangerously behind in male-enhancement technology.