I’d have washed out his mouth with Michelle Bachmann and let it go
Anyone who reads my shit knows I don’t let the word “shock” into my parlance often. …Not without sarcasm. But I’m shocked, stunned, soil-myself dumbfounded that MSNBC has engineered the dump of Mr. Shifty, Martin Bashir. Officially, he “resigned”, but that was after the hyper-liberal network put him in the meat locker for comments he made some weeks ago about Sarah Palin. Maybe the network is clearing decks of its loose cannons: Last week it fired loudmouth bully Alec Baldwin for homophobic comments he made in a homo incident nobody but homos gives an incidental shit about.
You’d think MSNBC would make the stretch for Bashir, since Palin just about sums up everything BAAAD that so fires passion and energy of tireless young revolutionaries trading quips in high-class cocktail parties. In their lights, she’s the Red Whore of Babylon where American politics is concerned. Last month, Bashir was miffed at Palin for invoking sacred issue of American slavery as comparison to our dependent relationship with China today. He said, referring to odd menu habits of slave owner Thomas Thistlewood a comparative billion years ago:
“In 1756, he records that a slave named Darby ‘catched eating kanes had him well flogged and pickled, then made Hector, another slave, s-h-i-t in his mouth,’” Bashir said. “When Mrs. Palin invokes slavery, she doesn’t just prove her rank ignorance. She confirms if anyone truly qualified for a dose of discipline from Thomas Thistlewood, she would be the outstanding candidate.”
It’s almost as if MSNBC has, well, at least flogged and pickled Bashir. It’s also interesting to note the long, loooong time it took for the network to finally apply penalties to Baldwin and Bashir. After all, Paula Deen had her career shat down her throat within days of her non-outrage surfacing last summer.
He’ll find some other roost.
~ NOVEMBER ~
For years, she said she was dead herself and in a shallow grave
Psychic Sylvia Browne didn’t exactly forecast her own death, but it came at a timely moment last week, since her reputation as seer and teller of fortunes took another ragged hit this year.
More than once, with the television cameras rolling, Ms. Browne told the parents of a missing child that their son or daughter was dead — sometimes she would say precisely where — only for the child to be found alive later. In 2004, she told the mother of the Ohio kidnapping victim Amanda Berry that her daughter was dead. Ms. Berry, held captive for more than a decade, was rescued this May.
Although Ms. Browne often appeared on shows like “Larry King Live” and was a regular guest on “The Montel Williams Show,” much of her income came from customers who paid $700 to ask her questions over the telephone for 30 minutes. [New York Times]
She also published 40 books and, like most shysters, founded her own semi-sect, Society of Novus Spiritus. But Berry was one of the women kidnapped by Ariel Castro and kept in his rundown Cleveland home for years until their rescue last spring. The widespread coverage of that coincided with notation that Browne had stuck the black pin in Berry’s case.
One thing to be a phony psychic, another to mislead and break the spirits of parents by wrongfully telling their abducted child is dead.
Although Browne claimed to have a psychic success rate between 87-to-90 percent, a 2010 analysis of of 115 predictions she made on “The Montel Williams Show” by Skeptical Inquirer magazine put her success rate at zero.In some cases, she charged a police department $400 for her services.
In 2002, Browne told the parents of missing 11-year-old Shawn Hornbeck on the Montel Williams Show that the child was dead and kidnapped by a dark-skinned man with dreadlocks. Hornbeck was found alive in 2007 and his accused kidnapper, Michael Devlin, was Caucasian and short-haired. Hornbeck’s stepfather, Craig Akers, told Anderson Cooper that Browne offered to do a more extensive psychic reading off-camera for $700. She denied the claim.
Browne, born Sylvia Shoemaker in 1936, had a pat comment whenever faced with her consistent inaccuracy: “Only God is right all the time.”
Surely, he made the right call Wednesday, removing this cold-hearted scam artist from our midst.
If it hits me, don’t say, “His death was one small step for mankind”
Well, another piece of space junk is headed down. This story perhaps belongs on my CommonOddity page, since it doesn’t happen all the time and is kinda mysterious. But I need an entry for this still-new month, if only to close out October.
The European Space Agency’s Gravity field and steady-state Ocean Circulation Explorer – thankfully GOCE for short – is expected to fall to earth perhaps as early as Sunday. It’s mission, which began in 2009, has concluded and this is expected end for the somewhat sexy-looking piece of hardware; it was dubbed the Space Ferrari because of its sleek looks, unapparent to me.
The only problem? No one can predict exactly where the satellite will fall.
The GOCE probe, which ESA officials coined the “Ferrari of space” because of its slick design, has been mapping the Earth’s gravitational field since its launch in 2009. In late October, the satellite ran out of fuel and has been making a slow descent – falling at a rate of 2.5 miles per day. It’s possible the satellite could reach Earth as soon as Sunday, Nov. 10.When GOCE makes its uncontrolled reentry, scientists predict that as many as 45 pieces of debris could fall to Earth, some weighing as much as 200 pounds, according to RedPlanet.com. [SKYE]
This stuff always reminds me of the time Skylab fell in 1979. This troubled, hot, expensive shot at America’s first space station gave up the ghost in much the same way, but its re-entry tragectory was even more a toss-up. San Francisco Columnist Jeff Jarvis held a contest for anyone stepping forward with a genuine piece of the craft. It was won by a young Australian who was feted in the city and by Jarvis, although an Exonicle staffer told me Jarvis couldn’t STAND the kid. Nobody died.
~ OCTOBER ~
Just make her write ‘no more beaver shots’ a few hundred times
As you know, I like to stay atop the ups and downs of our educational system. It’s with that in mind that I note a Texas Spanish teacher has been fired from her high school job for appearing in Playboy years before she stood in front of a chalk board and from every boy (and some girls) got attention so riveting it could slap together another tower for the monstrosity going up now in the 9/11 footprint.
According to the Dallas Observer, Cristy Nicole Deweese was fired last week.The website cites tweets from the 21-year-old, a Facebook page calling for her reinstatement, and her updated modeling profile as evidence.Deweese, 21, reportedly texted Inside Edition, “They fired me!” Oct. 10.She also referred to her dismissal in tweets, saying that she would miss her students.
Now… 21 seems a little young for a high school teacher. Generally, students graduate from teaching school at about 22. Cristy looks 21, for sure. …Especially in the P-Boy photos on line. They didn’t make them that young or that sexy when I was in school.
…Well, actually, there was a teacher I remember just out of college who wore tiny skirts (this was the early ’70s) and a yellow hot-pants jumpsuit. Not kidding. It was about the size of a one-piece bathing suit, and I gotta say, she had the legs to pull it off. Always wonder what would happen if I’d made a play for her; she seemed to like me. I’m boring you… never mind.
Christy has a FaceBook page dedicated to getting her back to her classroom (clothed) and enough of this horsin’ around.
Put bluntly: If body-count is low, then the ‘crisis’ isn’t a crisis
In this country, we’re constantly jerked around by our peerless leaders, “activists” and, of course, media, to believe a bunch of fucking bullshit. The shooting of Trayvon Martin clogged the airwaves with social critics telling us white vigilantes make the U.S. a hazardous place for young black men, even though young black men have as much chance of being shot by any white – vigilante or not – as they do getting struck by lightning in a Buckingham Palace bathroom. Young gays are committing suicide at “epic” proportions – yet their deaths number only a couple of dozen a year and are way below numbers for young straights who end their lives.
But nothing gets our high-minded more worked up than private gun ownership. Their conviction is that no American should own a gun – period. And they’re moving heaven and earth to convince us to hand them over. Even if it means lying – and using children in seedy ploy for sympathy. The New York Times desperately throws in some pretty lame kitchen sinks, charging that the Center for Disease Control numbers for kids killed in gun accidents is low by half, but…
…Despite looking at data from four states dating back to 1999, from a fifth state dating back to 2007, and from several smaller jurisdictions that make records available, the authors produced just 259 cases in which a child 14 or younger was accidentally killed with a firearm… Steven Levitt famously calculated that a swimming pool on your property is 100 times more likely than a gun to kill your child by accident; make the NYT adjustment, and it’s still 50 times. And swimming pools don’t pose the constitutional and self-defense tradeoffs that guns do.
This article included a helpful – and revealing – chart that maps statistics on accidental deaths of children – never a cheery topic. It includes ‘gun’ entries both for the CDC figures and the Times’ readjustment.
There’s a point here and it’s real simple: In a country of 300+ million population, even the Times monumental revelation that one child in 400,000 dies from accidental gunshot every year doesn’t amount to a crisis. Surely not one requiring drastic suspension of yet another of our disappearing freedoms.
And in these perilous times, we have plenty of real crises to occupy us. …Not pet causes from American social tiers with questionable motives cranking along behind their politics.
~ SEPTEMBER ~
Don’t worry, Miley: He just wasn’t good enough for you
Occasionally, here at ‘Month’ we like to update our celebrity gossip periodically, and since Miley Cyrus has been trending on every news site since her Orthophobe Malfunction at the Video Music Awards twerk-off a couple of weeks ago, here’s some harsh info on her love life.
Seems her main squeeze of the past few months. Liam Hemzerworthengood – whatever – has been seeing some gal in Vegas, then here in L.A.. And this story hasn’t stayed in Sin City.
Liam Hemsworth was spotted kissing singer-actress Eiza González at her apartment complex in Beverly Hills on Tuesday, just a few days after going clubbing with her in Vegas—and barely a day after it was confirmed that he and Miley Cyrus had called off their 15-month engagement. While a source said yesterday that Eiza and Liam had “just met,” most likely in Vegas, it appears that they really hit it off.
Since she’s primarily worked in her native land just south of the border, unless Ms. González made wrestling movies, wearing that ubiquitous burn-victim lucha libre mask, it’s unlikely you’ve seen her. There have been a scattering of artsy films and truly woundrous cheap horror films from Mexico, but otherwise we’re not following its output. …’Cept those cosmically popular super=wrestler movies. Saaaantooooo!
Anyway, here’s a photo of the new gal. …Perhaps in a lettuce-picking mood?
If it had cost any more, we could ship it to Boston as ‘Big Dig II’
Yeah. It’s way overpriced. The new, ultra-artsy link from Oakland to Yerba Buena (good herb, dude) Island on the Oakland-San Francisco Bay Bridge cost a quibbling $6.4 BILLION to slap together. After many delays and a shitload more money than anyone thought it would cost, it finally opened earlier this week. Evidently, everyone in the Bay Area now is drawn to the gigantic, inflated-budget, near-boondoggle, rubbernecker magnet – just to drive across. As accession to extreme PC that’s hallmark of the place, there are bike and pedestrian lanes included – first for a state built on automobile easement as universal component. …So they can walk or peddle.
You damn bet if I still lived in SF, I’d be among the first, and I’d walk just for the sheer pioneering delusion of doing so.
Originally, the project was estimated to run $200 million on a bridge that priced out for its 1936 completion at $77 million; you barely could get a no-star movie made for that money, now. That Corps of Engineers practicality was swept aside, since it would mean merely rebuilding original, steam-punk latticework design. For THE CITY?! (No… We’re not referring to Pacheco, here).
The project was yammered, redone, re-yammered, Schwarzenegger’d, parsed down, blown up and, of course, millions in payoffs surely were paid out to finally get the thing done. That’s an old San Francisco tradition – as when the 1906 earthquake collapsed City Hall, revealing shoddy materials in the newly built “gem”. That little piece of chicanery sent San Francisco’s Mayor and several other officials to jail. Lucky they weren’t shot as looters by the Fort Point troops. (Fort Point is the scenic old military base at the mouth of Golden Gate where Kim Novak jumped in “Vertigo”.)
So, here we are, with an overpriced, behind-schedule marvel we can tell (*yee-aaawn*) our grandchildren about. (As oddball detail, the original bridge was blessed at opening by Cardinal Secretary of State Eugene Cardinal Pacelli, who later became Pope Pius XII – the pontiff whom reparations scammers continually try to smear as Nazi-collaborator.) Makes me nostalgic for the days when we could build something for reasonable cash – and it would get done on time and under budget. Maybe those days never existed. But it seems like projects scheduled got done in reasonable time, and at reasonable cost. At least that applied to our little space-race thingy with then-Soviets. When John Kennedy said we’d get to the moon by the end of the ’60s, the history books not the Giant Leap was in July ’69.
While we’re on the subject, this is the new NASA rocket launched last night (8/6/13) on mission to the moon. Anybody besides me think it looks a little… budgy? …Cheap-o? To the moon, huh? Doesn’t look like it could get past the HBO satellite. I mean, time was, we put about a dozen guys up there and got ‘em back alive. Now… What? A Home Depot rocket? Just not sure about this. Not sure, at all.
But, really… What do I know?
~ AUGUST ~
Too bad he didn’t quit earlier – like maybe his second hour on the job
To delight of the stock market and computer nerds everywhere, Steve Ballmer is quitting as CEO of Microsoft, an absolute goldmine of a company he turned to pure zinc by combination of destroying morale with his screeching, kiss-up-kick-down charm, but especially his utter incompetence in the post at which he overstayed about 154 welcomes. Forbes called him “without doubt, the worst CEO of a large publicly traded American company today.” If there’s ambiguity in that appraisal, it would take an anal-retentive Dr. Leaky to dig it out. Here’s another size-up that’s worth a read:
Of course, he might have undertaken this strategy six or seven years ago, before its failed operating systems, Windows phone, disastrous mobile plays, and other projects that went grossly overtime, over budget, and ultimately awry. Just because a company is big doesn’t mean it can’t change. Look at IBM under Sam Palmisano. The company sold off its PC division to Lenovo and went all in on business services. Perhaps indicative of Wall Street’s view of Ballmer’s stormy tenure is that Microsoft’s stock shot up almost 7 percent shortly after the news broke…
(Ballmer’s) imminent departure has actually increased his personal wealth. Yes, that’s right. He’s worth more leaving than staying. As John Paczkowski at AllThingsD pointed out, Ballmer made almost $1 billion by quitting. His 333,252,990 shares of the company are worth about $11 billion, and the 7 percent run up in its stock after his announcement increased his stake, grossing him $769 million…
It’s apparent Ballmer busted a few during his tenure, and followed a set “euphemism code” for corporate American assholes:
- “He’s driven” usually means he’s driven to hassle employees, as I pointed out, or horn-dog female employees desperate to keep their jobs, or throw little old ladies off fast-moving rail carriers.
- “A skilled infighter” = “lying, backstabbing asshole.”
- “A real ‘warrior’” translates “a real ‘sociopath’” whose personal, physical cowardice compels him to have others do his more dangerous dirty work. Think of the litigation-insurance premiums, otherwise!
- “Won’t take ‘no’ for an answer” frequently leads to stalking.
Want to defend Ballmer? Think his problems are about jealous, spiteful underlings? Read that part again about, Microsoft’s stock shot up almost 7 percent shortly after the news broke of his planned resignation.
Yeah… conspiracy… Relax, though: His net worth is about $16 billion now. He’s not in the habit of starving, as we can see.
When there’s smoke and you smell a rat, look for bullshit on fire
This has been one of the mildest, coolest (temperature-wise) summers on record here in Southern California. (We call it “SoCal” for short, but when anyone is around we think we want to impress, we always gas on about how we hate it when people say, “SoCal”. …Like anyone gives a shit about our arrogant assumption they do.) If this is global warming, give me more: Temps have rarely gotten out of the ’80s.
This would really hot weather for San Francisco, where thousands of apartments cooled by well-like airshafts dropping through the guts of buildings – and no AC – send people all Saturday Night Special at 85 degrees. Now even homos can throw their spouses out 12-story windows, just like the Vibrant People do.
Here are some updates:
Rope-a-Oprah – In a tale I also picked over last week, PJ Media notes Oprah Winfrey’s latest near-lynching in a Switzerland handbag store bears striking resemblance to another racist rampage that busted up her ample bottom a few years ago – again in Europe.
This keeps up and we may just have to fuck them up like we did three times (counting Bosnia and those world war thingies) in the last century. Anyway, in 2005, the talk-show titaness was denied entrance to Hermes store in Paris, either because she was black, or fat, or because the store was about to close (that’s what the frog Klansmen said, anyway). Later, on Oprah’s show, the Hermes president showed up to beg forgiveness, kiss that tonka-bottom, and oddly NOT be fired anyway.
After this year’s incident and her previous retail challenges in 2005, we must ponder why someone so wealthy and successful keeps having such trouble from high-end European merchants? And why has Oprah’s staff been so consistently incompetent over the years that they can’t coordinate store hours during the precious time their boss has free during her overseas excursions, and pre-screen the best clerks to work with her, etc?… What should we make of the fact that stories like these–some absurd, some not really about race at all–are being given so much attention in the press? I think the conventional wisdom, that self-apppointed civil rights leaders will seize on any purported manifestation of racism in order to stay relevant, no matter how minor or even non-existent such purported manifestations may be, is correct.
But I would go beyond that: I suspect that there is another reason why the press is so fixated on race these days. The left’s agenda is in tatters. Obamacare has crashed on takeoff, after five years of Democratic policies the economy is in the doldrums and we are nearly $17 trillion in debt, and the Obama administration’s foreign policy is is disarray.
How ballin’ the flighty? - Although as a Boomer it makes me feel old as the hills, it’s with great schadenfreude I peruse Gavin McInnes’ GenX hashing of those - kids – The Millennials. The 40-something McInness trashes their fashion-sense (or lack thereof), their ignorance of snot-locker etiquette, bong-head detachment, and general laziness, then, with some envy:
They don’t even look in the mirror and yet they keep getting laid. Too laid. They’re sick of it. When women think about having sex with me, they either dry-heave or burst out laughing. I don’t blame them. Every time I see a picture of myself, I wonder why my dad is wearing my clothes—clothes that I spent a fortune on merely to not look homeless.
The guy even says the precious little unserious, entitled fairies won’t stay off his lawn! Once, back in the ’90, I had an Xer harangue me and all Boomers everywhere for ruining his chance at success and happiness – like, man, owning a home! Ah… karma. Get over it, McInnes. And even kids who sleep on airport floors will respond to “get off the grass” via a CO2 pellet up the ass. Just find a dark window and pretend you’re Lee Harvey Oswald.
Bet they wish they’d stayed below-ground for shooting day
Damn, is it the summer of phony social outrage – or what?
Now an L.A.-based rock band has come under the guns of our stiffs of sanctimony for a music video that’s… yeah, once again… racist. Asians are the Klan meat this time.
Los Angeles band Day Above Ground has been forced to take down their music video ‘Asian Girlz’ after it spurned a wave of outrage. Since it was put up Monday, the video has been viewed over one million times, and sparked outrage on the internet for it’s blatantly racist lyrics.
Lines include: ‘Korean barbecue, B**** I love you’ and ‘Your momma’s so pretty, best nails in the city.’ Near the end of the song they give up completely on rhyming and resort to just listing Asian things: Bruce Lee, Toyota, Sailor Moon, spring rolls, tofu – the list goes on.
Surprisingly, the band was taken aback when the video wasn’t well received. [Mail Online]
How could anyone, anywhere in this country be surprised when ‘Korean Barbecue, bitch’ is deemed racist? As super-sensitive as our displeasure-prone subgroups are now? …With absolutely nothing else – NOTHING ELSE – that possibly can provoke them? (Notice when litanies of white sins are tallied up by our anti-racists – every accusation with teeth is decades if not centuries in the past?)
Can’t even rock without this rot?
~ JULY ~
It’s lonely at the top, and evidently more lonely at NYC bottom
No! Wait! This isn’t going to be another hatchet fest on the poor guy whose Instagrammed privates are public domain all over the world.
Nope… This is just a kind of Burma-Shave highway sign pointing to a not-bad look at New York City’s mayoral race that manages to be a slice-of-life miniature of the country as a whole. It also has good observations on personality types attracted to politics.
But on the ground, that’s not what the contest is about. It is about privatization. It is about the poor. Ending stop and frisk. Unemployment, especially among the city’s substantial black and Hispanic population. It’s about what deBlasio had called “a tale of two cities.” It’s about the fact that New York City, after nearly 10 years of Republican (and independent) rule, is ready for a Democrat. Hungry for a Democrat. The extra final term of the Bloomberg administration has made some in the wealthier precincts of the city wish he could be appointed mayor for life. But to many others in the other New York, it has felt like democracy has been on hold for the last four years, stopped up like a rusty municipal-housing pipe. Nearly three-quarters of New Yorkers regret allowing him that final term.
Leave my Big Gulp alone, you Stalinist hack. I’ve had bones to pick with The Atlantic before, but this piece is good enough to applaud regardless Atlantic’s safe, Cultural Marxist slant on stories. (In that tiresome regard, Atlantic is no different than the rest of American media.)
Next up: Rattlesnakes will be turned loose on kindergartens
First Christopher Evans Hubbart raped 25 women down here in SoCal. Finally he got thrown in prison. A few years later, he was dumped off in San Francisco’s Bay Area as part of California’s humanitarian, professionally run parole system. He raped 15 more women and was thrown in prison. …Again. Then a few years after that, he was released and shortly thereafter arrested for trying to abduct a woman near San Jose.
Now, like a match dropped in a napalm tank, news that he’ll be released yet again as part of California’s humanitarian, professionally run parole system has ignited a shitstorm of Naomi-Campbell-on-the-rag ferocity. Golly. Wonder why…
Los Angeles County prosecutors are seeking to stop a convicted serial rapist who has spent roughly two decades in state mental hospitals from being released in the county. Asst. Dist. Atty. Joseph Esposito told the county Board of Supervisors on Tuesday that his office had flown a prosecutor to Santa Clara County to file legal paperwork to block Christopher Evans Hubbart’s release to Los Angeles County.
A Santa Clara County judge ruled in May that Hubbart, 62, could be conditionally freed under strict monitoring conditions to Los Angeles County, where Hubbart was born and raised. “We believe that Hubbart remains a serious risk to public safety,” Esposito told county supervisors at their regular weekly meeting. The district attorney’s legal paperwork wouldn’t seek to block him from being released somewhere else in the state. [L.A. Times]
…Well, sure, if a place for this piece of shit could be found in… say… Santa Cruz or maybe Tiburon – one of those extremely progressive communities up north with astronomical income level almost but not quite matching self-righteousness… Of course we’d be amenable to once again trusting Mr. Fuckwad under supervision of California’s humanitarian, professionally run parole system.
Let me be the one to ask this since evidently no one else has: Why hasn’t this worthless tub of dog shit been killed by now? Where is justice? Or God. Or God’s justice. Where is our old neglectful bearded one? NOT watching over all of us, that’s for fuckin’ sure.
Why is this animal still alive?
A big, loud bomb explodes on us just in time for July 4
When I saw the first photos of Johnny Depp with a bird on his head, I thought, “Damn… he must be back with that English chick model and burning through coke like a Chicago Alderman through payoffs.” But, lo, it was just the durable, always interesting actor playing Tonto in the new “Lone Ranger”. Depp also wears permanent war paint that makes HIM a startling paleface in this updated, postmodern-ruined version of the kiddie Western favorite.
A few days ago I wrote in passing about this film,
We know this will be a loud, boring computer-generated cartoon strictly from formula. And we know we’ll be drenched in bad-honky propaganda.
We now know it’s laid an egg with critics – which may or may not mean it won’t recoup its quarter-billion budget. “Oz” did, and it cost about the same. …’Course, right now, “Oz” has only made a few million profit, but it ain’t dead yet! “Ranger” may be DOA when it hits theaters midnight Wednesday, just it time to fail on the holiday and its subsequent weekend.
“It’s one thing to give the faithful sidekick top billing, when that sidekick is played by Johnny Depp, but the film feels constantly torn between deconstructing the legend and presenting it in a straightforward manner. Since it’s impossible to simultaneously sacrifice and worship a sacred cow, The Lone Ranger feels schizophrenic, a state of affairs that would be forgivable if it delivered as a postmodern comedy or as an exciting western or even as an exhilaratingly brainless piece of summer entertainment. [But it's] none of those things. The results are both joyless and seemingly endless, as its two-and-a-half-hour running time stretches out like a desert horizon barren of shade or water.”
Am I a prophet, or what? But who knows… The Huffpo liked it. (Never a good sign.) Instead of all the “deconstructing” of which Hollywood seems so fond these days, how about constructing better movies? This town is top-heavy with non-talents in place because of insider connections, and 90 percent of its cinema isn’t worth the celluloid its imprinted with.