There is more than one of everything

3 08 2013

Two things.

1. I not only don’t mind spoilers, I kinda prefer them.

I don’t know when this happened, when I began to prefer to know how things work out rather than just waiting to find out, but now I do.

There’s more to this than that, but, for now, this’ll do.

2. I’ve been watching and more-or-less-enjoying Fringe.

I got interested in Fringe maybe a year ago, when I’d see teasers for the latest episode on Hulu. At first, I ignored it, then I thought, Huh, that might be interesting, as I flicked past, then thought, Huh, if that shows up on Netflix, I think I’ll give ‘er a go.

It showed up on Netflix.  I’m giving ‘er a go.

And while I did do a bit of skim-spoiling of the show on Wikipedia, I decided to, y’know, actually watch the show to find out what happens.

There are some things I like about it and some things which are quite ridiculous (even for the grim sci-fi/conspiracy subgenre in which it exists), but I mostly like it. I liked X-Files before it went off the rails, and Fringe clearly owes a great deal to pre-derailed X.

I also thought, prior to tonight, that while it is in many ways a more sophisticated show than X-Files, it is a lesser one.

And then the last scene of the episode. I was not expecting it. I think I stopped breathing for a moment or two.

I don’t know why, I can think of so many reasons why it shouldn’t have stopped me, but stop me it did.

I won’t spoil it for you; I was glad I hadn’t spoiled it for myself.





Give it to me once and give it to me twice

30 07 2013

Virginia Gov. Bob McDonnell: “It’s hard — I suppose the force of circumstances — for instance, not to accept gifts. Now, the broader gifts, of maybe letting someone use your house at a lake, private travel, I think those are things that are of fair discussion.”

Ah, Guv, no, it’s really not that hard.

Just say no.





Quick hits, instead

30 07 2013

Y’know, about a minute after I created the “itty bitty” category I reconsidered, then thought, let it ride.

Yeah, well, the ride is ending. I still like the idea of toss-off posts (and considered renamed the cat “toss-offs”), but didn’t like the whole cutesy thing.

As a small woman, I really don’t like the whole cutesy thing.

So, I’m reverting to what I called them when I collected ’em in a whole “stray bits” post: “quick hits”.

Says what I want it to, sans cute.





And they would kill me for a cigarette

29 07 2013

So on what planet is the appropriate response to an obstreperous 95-year-old to shoot him with a beanbag gun?

Do I need to mention that an obstreperous 95-year-old man had already been Tasered? And that an obstreperous 95-year-old man who had already been Tasered might not be able to withstand the force of a lead-shot-filled “pillow” fired by a 12-gauge shotgun at a speed of 200-300 feet/second?

That he might, in fact, die from the resultant injuries?

But AbsurdBeats, you say, the old man was WIELDING A CANE and a SHOEHORN (?!) and a FOOT-LONG  BUTCHER’S KNIFE?  How else are trained professionals supposed to act in the face of a obstreperous 95-year-old-man who was refusing medical treatment and threatening—I say threatening!—them with a FOOT-LONG BUTCHER’S KNIFE?

I mean, it’s not like those highly trained protectors of the peace had any other options in the face of such imminent and overwhelming danger.

Similarly, you might argue that that we can all sleep better tonight knowing that the police’s first response to a man retrieving cigarettes from his own car is to shoot at him seven times*.

After all, a concerned neighbor had called the police, so, really, can you blame them for not waiting for him actually to turn around before emptying their pistols in his general direction?

Safety first, after all.

*No, the real question is: Should we feel better or worse that the police shot at him seven times and only managed to him once, maybe twice, in the leg?

~~~

I don’t know how Radley Balko tracks this shit without going insane.





Don’t stop believin’

29 07 2013

So Mitt Romney apparently does not understand how video works.





Days of open hand

29 07 2013

Peggy Noonan was a helluva speechwriter.

Her Challenger speech for Reagan was masterful, and she wrote a line I have repeatedly and delightedly stolen her the line “the soft bigotry of low expectations” [which, in looking up to confirm that this was written for George HW Bush, was actually written by Michael Gerson for George W Bush! Man! Still, great line.]

Didn’t like her politics, didn’t like the presidents she worked for, but I do respect her ability to craft a political speech.

Her skills as a pundit, however: no.

She gave the American public her prediction that Romney would win the 2012 election, based on the “vibrations” she got from his rallies, and stated that the non-White House IRS scandal was “something [she’d] never seen in her lifetime.”

This from a woman who was in the White House during the Iran-Contra debacle.

Anyway, Charlie Pierce likes to call her Our Lady of the Magic Dolphin, but guest post-er at his blog, Heather Horn, offered up an even better name: Trelawney.

I’m with Hermione—and Horn—on this one.





Listen boy I’m getting tired of you

28 07 2013

Anthony Weiner is an idiot.

Yes, for the obvious reason of thinking he could get away with sending crotch shots (solicited and not) to and sexting with women not-his-wife, but also for thinking this latest revelation was No Big Deal.

He did intimate, in that long groundwork-for-a-comeback piece in the New York Times Magazine that there were  more sexts out there and they might surface, but as others have pointed out, he also implied that these, uh, indiscretions were looooong behind him.

Hence the more-damning-politically idiocy: He didn’t come clean when he had the chance. Had he said, in the long ground-work-for-a-comeback piece, that it took him awhile to get himself under control, that the sexting continued through the summer of 2012, he would have opened himself to  tough questions about his habits and appetites, questions he managed to duck when he resigned his Congressional seat and retreated to private life.

But in taking that opening, he would have inoculated himself from the derision which attends the latest revelation, forestalled the contempt attendant on the lies about the extent of his crotch-shotting, and thus might still have had a shot at becoming mayor.

I guess he still does, but this past week that shot became a whole lot longer.





Come Mister tally man, tally me banana

28 07 2013

Remember: no food is produced without labor.

Good on Mark Bittman for this most basic reminder of a most basic fact of human life.

We need food to eat, and that food does not come from nowhere. Oh, food corporations would like us to believe that food comes from nowhere—think of the efforts to ban unauthorized filming of conditions in pig and chicken plants—or from some mythical somewhere in which a smiling man lovingly plucks a strawberry or head of lettuce and pulls himself upright to show us the bounty of the Earth, but, really, they’d rather us not think about the workers stooped over in a field, exposed to pesticides and herbicides, cutting and tugging hundreds of pounds of fruits and vegetables out of the dirt every day.

And slaughterhouses? No one wants to think about slaughterhouses.

I’m not exempting myself from this. I don’t know where most of my food comes from: that I’m assiduous in buying only fair-trade coffee beans only highlights how little I do to source every other item in my diet. Nor do I inquire as to the conditions in the kitchen of the restaurants or (more commonly) the local joints I visit.

Bittman gives one way to begin paying attention:

Well-intentioned people often ask me what they can do to help improve our food system. Here’s an easy one: When you see that picket line next week, don’t cross it. In fact, join it.

I mentioned in my last post that those who are most directly affected by a phenomenon ought to take the lead in directing how to respond to it. Bittman’s advice fits nicely into that schema: the workers themselves are acting, and in so doing, are telling the rest of how to act.

Hear, hear. If you want to get paid fairly for the work you do, then you should support others getting paid fairly for the work they do.

We all should be paid fairly for the work we do.

~~~

h/t: Erik Loomis, Lawyers, Guns & Money





Come greet the dawn and stand beside us

28 07 2013

Putin’s Russia is not a great place for queer folk.

Of course, it’s also not a great place for dissident folk and Chechen folk and Jewish folk and African folk and any folk who can’t be fitted into a Putin-defined slot of “good Russian citizen”.

Still, it’s the anti-LGBT legislation and violence which has led to a call for the boycott of Russian vodka. Dan Savage, noting a) the uneven prospects for a boycott of the 2014 Winter Olympics  and b) how much vodka is sold in gay bars, kicked off the vodka-boycott:

But [Olympics] boycott or no boycott there is something we can do right here, right now, in Seattle and other US cities to show our solidarity with Russian queers and their allies and to help to draw international attention to the persecution of gay men, lesbians, bisexuals, trans people, and straight allies in Putin’s increasingly fascistic Russia: DUMP RUSSIAN VODKA.

I’ve participated in a few boycotts in my life, and am unopposed to them in principle, even if I question their effectiveness. Given how much Russian hooch is sold in North America, this attempt has a good chance materially to affect some Russian companies, which might maybe possibly could lead them to ask Putin to back off which almost certainly will not lead Putin to back off.

Still, a well-organized boycott can at least serve to heighten awareness of an issue and increase solidarity among the boycotters, which ain’t beanbag.

The question I have, however, is whether this really will, as Savage put it, “show our solidarity with Russian queers and their allies” in a way that will actually help them.

What if this doesn’t help them? What if this hurts them? What then?

In other words, should those Russian queers and their allies take the lead and tell us what they want and need, what they think will work, and what we can do to help them?

If they say RIGHT ON! to the boycott, then okay, RIGHT ON!

But I’d like to hear them say it, first.





Springtime for Hitler

28 07 2013

Austria kinda creeps me out.

Rest assured, I have no reason to be so out-creeped—it is not my area of study, I’ve never visited, I used to enjoy this bar/restaurant in Minneapolis that served Austrian food, and I have fond memories of my time in The Sound of Music—but somethin’ about the place sets me off.

Hitler! You might say: It’s Hitler!

Ehhhh, maaaaybeee—except I’m not creeped out by Germany. Yes, der Futur Führer was born and grew up in what is now Austria, but he was just a whiny loser as he mooned about Vienna: he did his real damage while based in the country to his north.

Still, there may be something about German efforts to come to terms with its past which contrasts favorably to Austria, which, famously, has not.

Ah: the creep may come from a sense of all kinds of nasty shit fermenting away below the surface.

Remember that guy who kidnapped and raped his own daughter and kept her and her kids in his basement? Not surprised that this happened in Austria.

Now, I repeat: this is completely unfair to Austria, especially given the recent escape by three women from years-long imprisonment from a house in Cleveland. There are psychopaths and serial criminals—not to mention unmentioned crimes of the state—in every country, so it’s unfair to single out Austria.

But I’m still singling out Austria.

All of this is a very long way to a very short point: the recent “discovery” of a village bell dedicated to Adolph Hitler is yet another crack in  the Austrian-victim-of-Anschluss excuse for history, and as such, ought to be celebrated.

I get the point of Raimund Fastenbauer that the bell could become a pilgrimage site for neo-Nazis and thus should be “disappeared”, but given how much mid-century Austrian history has been disappeared, I think getting rid of the bell is the exact wrong approach.

Let it ring out, literally and metaphorically. Let it be seen, and heard. Let it be talked about.

After 80 years, let it finally be talked about.