Friday, June 26, 2009

Thinking So Weak It's Defined By A Rainbow

"The idea of hidden agendas has influenced discussions on the war in Iraq, the destruction of the World Trade Center, the catastrophe of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, and the outbreak of swine flu.

In previous times, such attitudes mainly informed the thinking of right-wing populist movements, which always saw the hand of a Jewish or Masonic or Communist conspiracy behind major world events. Today, conspiratorial thinking has become respectable; many of its most vociferous supporters are to be found in radical protest movements or within the cultural left. When, a few years ago, Hillary Clinton warned of a ‘vast right-wing conspiracy’ against her husband, then president Bill, it became clear that the politics of the hidden agenda had become part of everyday public life. Today, the anti-capitalist and anti-globalisation movement is as wedded to conspiratorial thinking as are its opponents on the far right.

Conspiratorial thinking is encouraged by a powerful cultural narrative that depicts people, not as the authors of their destiny, but as the objects of manipulative secretive forces. Life is interpreted through the prism of a Hollywood blockbuster, where powerful evil and hidden figures pull all the strings. The flourishing of this imagination springs from mainstream society’s own inability to give an authoritative account of contemporary events. Virtually every aspect of public life is contested today, and there is little agreement on what are the causes of our current predicament. This crisis of causality continually calls into question the official version of events. Of course, the official version of events often needs to be questioned, but not through embracing a simplistic conspiratorial worldview that blames small cliques of evil people for what happens in the world.

Conspiratorial culture communicates the idea that nothing just happens by accident: somebody is at fault. Fantasies about international terrorist networks, paedophile rings, corporate conspiracies to fool people about an impending environmental disaster and neo-conservative cabals compete with one another to gain public attention. Virtually every misdeed, it seems, is the outcome of a carefully worked-out plot. Conspiratorial culture helps fuel suspicion and mistrust towards public life. It displaces critical engagement with society in favour of a destructive search for the hidden agenda. It distracts from any clarification of genuine differences and helps turn public life into a continuous crusade to unmask the perpetrators of malevolent deeds. The media fuel this attitude by frequently arguing that what is important is not what public figures say but what their real agenda is. The media incite the public to look for hidden motives; that normalisation of suspicion and mistrust is the key accomplishment of today’s conspiratorial culture."


-- Frank Furedi, on how and why the cultish Democrats have handed the office of the American presidency to a communist crank, in Spiked.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Sounds Deep (But It Don't Mean Shit)



"Laughing With" by Regina Spektor

No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one's laughing at God when they're starving or freezing or so very poor

No one laughs at God when the doctor calls after some routine tests
No one's laughing at God when it's gotten real late and their kid's not back from that party yet

No one laughs at God when their airplane starts to uncontrollably shake
No one's laughing at God when they see the one they love hand in hand with someone else and they hope that they're mistaken
No one laughs at God when the cops knock on their door and they say "We've got some bad new, sir,"
No one's laughing at God when there's a famine, fire or flood

But God can be funny
At a cocktail party while listening to a good God-themed joke or
Or when the crazies say he hates us and they get so red in the head you think that they're about to choke

God can be funny
When told he'll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie
Who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus

God can be so hilarious
Ha ha
Ha ha

No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one's laughing at God when they've lost all they got and they don't know what for

No one laughs at God on the day they realize that the last sight they'll ever see is a pair of hateful eyes
No one's laughing at God when they're saying their goodbyes

But God can be funny
At a cocktail party while listening to a good God-themed joke or
Or when the crazies say he hates us and they get so red in the head you think that they're about to choke

God can be funny
When told he'll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie
Who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus

God can be so hilarious

No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war

No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war

No one's laughing at God in a hospital
No one's laughing at God in a war

No one's laughing at God when they're starving or freezing or so very poor

No one's laughing at God
No one's laughing at God
No one's laughing at God
We're all laughing with God

Not In The Mood For Mourning

Sorry, kids, but ever since my divorce (surprise!) my tolerance for NewAgers has just died - even when they do. Maybe especially when they do. Farrah Fawcett, the beauty that used to wave at us kids as she drove by my old school (U.S. Grant High in North Hollywood) did the stupid Steve McQueen thing and decided to give a bunch of quacks in Germany her money as her life wasted away - probably ensuring she'd die sooner rather than later. That's all I'm left with. She took all the dignity away from her life, illness, death, and my memories of a troubled childhood made a little bit special because she was once near. Kind of like my ex, and my memories of marriage, actually.

Damn, I wish my ex would die already, just so I can see if I'm capable of crying for her again: I think I'm all cried out,...

Michael Jackson's death was a surprise - until I got to this:

"Jacko’s close pal Uri Geller was 'too upset for words' last night."

Once again - sorry - but anyone who was "friends" with Uri Geller, that total fraud and con artist, is beyond the pale for me (no pun intended) no matter what a great talent they were or what great memories - and music - they left me with. RIP, Michael? Nope: just get the fuck out of here if the best you could do is be part of the con. (RIP, Ed McMahon: you and Johnny Carson did the very thing we should all be doing,...instead we have this totally debunked NewAge fraud being paraded around as normal. When, oh when, will Oprah die?)

I'm actually glad Geller is upset and I'm not - that's as it should be. Cry, bitch. Cry your fucking eyes out, as your type has made so many others cry, and I hope you join your "friend" (if any real friendship can be based on a lie) as soon as possible:

You robbed Michal Jackson's life of dignity - and his death too - merely by being around him.

I'm not kidding: As far as I'm concerned, anyone, or anything, to do with NewAge deserves to die. NewAge has killed the most important things to me - my idealism and hope for humanity, along with my sense that people were smart and decent, and every thought I had that (I shudder now to say it) life was a sweet and precious thing to wake up to - so it's only fair.

"Everyone can believe what they want to believe"? Well, payback's a motherfucker, you motherfuckers. Die, die, die. I hope I outlive you all - every last stinking one of you. For what you've done, to one foster kid's sense of this life's meaning and purpose, you'll never get sympathy here. Now get the fuck out.

Just die.

He Took Lessons From Louis Farrakhan,...



Wednesday, June 24, 2009

And Now: A Word About Pussies

"It is simple realism. More and more often I meet young guys just like this: overgrown kids who are their grim wives’ poodles. They sheepishly talk about getting a 'pink pass,' or a 'kitchen pass,' before they can leave the house. They can’t do this or that because their wives don’t like it. They 'share' household and child-rearing tasks equally - which isn’t really equal at all because they don’t care about a clean house or a well-reared child anywhere near as much as their wives do. In short, each one seems set to spend his life taking orders from a perpetually dissatisfied Mrs. who sounds to me - forgive me but just speaking in all honesty - like a bloody shrike. Who can blame these poor shnooks if they go out and get drunk or laid or just plain divorced?

I’m the old-fashioned King of the Castle type: my wife knew it when she married me, she knows it now, and she knows where the door is if she gets sick of it. And you can curse me or consign me to Feminist Hell or whatever you want to do.  But when you’re done, answer me this: why would a man get married under any other circumstances? I’m serious. What’s in it for him?  I mean, marriage is a large sacrifice for a man.  He gives up his right to sleep with a variety of partners, which is as basic an urge in men as having children is in women. He takes on responsibilities which will probably curtail both his work and his social life.  If he doesn’t also acquire authority, gravitas, respect and, yes, mastery over his own home, what does he get? Companionship? Hey, stay single, dude, you’ll have a lot more money, and then you can buy companionship.

All right, I know, I’m a mean old man.  But I’ve also been blissfully married for 30 years to a woman who wakes up singing. I think some of these young guys have been sold a bill of goods, I really do. I think they’ve been told what they’re supposed to be like and have sacrificed what they are like. Maybe their marriages are more 'fair' than mine but just looking at them, I think they’re miserable. And I suspect, deep down, their wives are probably miserable too."


-- Andrew Klavan, on the further meaning of The Macho Response, for Pajamas Media.

Sanford And Son(s)

"Mark Sanford is no longer missing, but he's obviously lost. The South Carolina governor's press conference was excruciating: apology, followed by self-flagellation, followed by apology. It was like watching a man light himself on fire. I thought about his kids mustering up the courage to watch it on YouTube some day. I thought about his wife having to suffer the anger and the loss. Perhaps even worse, she's also going to have to endure the armies of pity and the people like me trying to guess at what her feelings are.

...Sanford has done a horrible thing to his wife and family and friends. He seemed to know and feel this more profoundly than other politicians we've seen go through this familiar apology exercise before. That doesn't excuse him. Not that he was asking that anyone excuse him. He seemed to be trying to take all the blame, as he should. Some might think his explanations were excuses. To me they seemed like a man confessing the details of a crime.

...What Mark Sanford seemed to be trying to say is that he screwed up, in the biggest possible way, because he lost his bearings. He lost his self-control. He was indulgent. He forgot that there were other humans in the world."


-- John Dickerson, on what even TMR has to admit was a classy display of brutal honesty (something we respect) by someone who completely screwed over a lot of lives, winning him a precious few points - for what's left of his character - on Slate.com.

That's "Mr. Fudge" To You, Buddy

"All the fudge that allowed a modern society to coexist with a theocracy inspired by an imam occulted in the 9th century has been swept away, leaving two Irans at war."

-- Roger Cohen, finally talking like a grown-up (took him a while - anybody want to discuss when NewAge was "occulted" here?) as chronicled in Commentary Magazine.

We Love You: You're Just Not That Bright

"Six minutes or so a week of hard exercise (plus the time spent warming up, cooling down, and resting between the bouts of intense work) had proven to be as good as multiple hours of working out for achieving fitness. The short, intense workouts aided in weight loss, too,..."

-- Gretchen Reynolds, with another reminder of what we think every time we see anyone working out for hours - they're a bunch of idiots and "followers" who can't think for themselves - and, now, that's backed up by science, and The New York Times.

Faggot, Nigger, Bitch, Cracker-Assed Cracker,...

"Perez Hilton isn't apologizing for using a gay slur.

The openly gay gossip blogger said in a statement Tuesday that he would continue to say things upsetting to gay and straight people alike. The comments came after the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation called for Hilton to apologize Monday for unleashing the word during an altercation at a nightclub with Black Eyed Peas frontman will.i.am.

'I wish none of it had happened,' said Hilton, whose real name is Mario Lavandeira. 'I can't take it back. I did what I thought was best at the moment to stand up for myself in a nonviolent yet still assertive way. Clearly, I am not homophobic. Also, I am not nor have I ever claimed to be a spokesperson for the gay community.'"
-- The Associated Press

As much as we despise Perez Hilton - and will.i.am - we've got to side with the little faggot after this statement defending his freedom of speech, individuality, and non-politically-correct behavior. He's a proud American - and he knows it:

Good for him.

He's still a stupid fucking toad, though - and the Black Eyed Peas suck buffalo nuts.

Black, Gay, Religious: A Whole World Of Stupid



What Great Timing: Because Of The World-Wide Influence Of Cults We're Already Ready To Die!!!

"North Korea threatened Wednesday to wipe the United States off the map as Washington and its allies watched for signs the regime will launch a series of missiles in the coming days."

-- Hyung Jim-Kim, reminding us why we love cults so much - and, also, how much Barack Obama's charisma as president has changed everything (just as promised!) - so we can now stop missing the warm presence of President Bush, and start clinging to the cold, harsh reality of The Associated Press.

Say Goodbye To President What's-His-Name, II



And They'll Eat Anything You Put In The Cage

"I've decided 'gerbilism' is a pretty good word for what's been going on in the news media these days. Gerbilism is an apt term for something that's soft and warm and cuddly, safe and timid, with no sharp teeth and no bite whatsoever. Gerbilism, I've decided, is partly responsible for a lot of our nation's problems today."

-- Doug Bates, associate editor of The Oregonian - on a word his 6-year old daughter made up that exemplifies what liberals (in their delusional state) think of as this outstanding Obama coverage - since they don't expect anyone should be taking Aim.org.