What it is about Liddy Dole

She's annoying, she's got it in for atheists so much she's produced a series of desperate ads accusing her of being "godless", when clearly she has no interest in her own morality.

But what's really scary about her is she looks like she's got the same plastic surgeon as Jocelyn Wildenstein.

I'm BACK!

Not that this was an extraordinarily busy blog, but after the template broke, I stopped posting. Like, where did my title go? Where did my sidebar go? Why doesn't resetting the template fix it?

Okay, I found them. They're back.

The blog had like 3 things wrong with it. I found the solutions in the Google group by searching on the error message. Now my blog is again whole.

I won't be updating what you missed, but if you want to check on my posting (I've been a busy girl), you can look at my main political blog on my main site.

Now that I've got this fixed, I'll be back. And don't forget to check out the poll in the sidebar.

Sarah Palin wants to steal my stuff

She doesn't think I'm a true Christian.

She's right. I'm not, which makes me one of the "godless" that her prayer warriors are planning on looting and pillaging when they take over the country prior to bringing on Armageddon.

Ecumenicism is a game they play. They want you to think that they are "people of faith", and this is something important they have in common with you.

But do you believe the world is beset by witchcraft and demons? Do you believe in praying for the deaths of people, and if they do fall ill or die, that you caused it, and it was God's will? Do you think it's a good idea to bring on the End Times so you can get raptured right up into heaven?

She is a dominionist, which means she supports making the US a theocracy run by members of her narrow sect. The movement to infiltrate the government at all levels is called New Apostolic Reformation. Check them out.

Sarah Palin believes in all this and more.

Believe it, it's true. Or should I say, you don't have to believe it, because it's true. You only have to believe things that are demonstrably untrue.

Like I don't have anything to do with my time...

Once in a while I just like to play with the graphics program. Did you know that back in 2005, when asked if Dick Cheney would play a role in his administration should he be elected, McCain answered, "Hell, yes!"?

Unclear on the concept of what "Legacy" means

Just in case anyone is still unclear on the concept—although it does look like the concept is becoming clearer all the time, even to you-know-who and his addled brain—I've captioned a picture, since a picture is worth a thousand words, or so they say.

I guess dubya is still thinking that a miracle can pull into the pantheon of great Presidents. (I can just see him in "I, Claudius", trying to get the Roman senate to vote him a god so he would not have to pay for his sins in the hereafter.) Not happening, boy, even though clearly a miracle happened to save him from being impeached, what with all his crimes: from misdemeanors to felonies to "high crimes" (whatever that may mean) to outright treason and war crimes.

Was it a miracle? Or was it just gutlessness, cowardice, and political expediency on the part of the majority party? It would be very hard to distinguish what the Democrats in Congress and the Senate have been doing from outright collusion.

Anyway... anybody who wants McCain deserves four more years of the current death spiral. But those people don't read this blog, do they?

Trapped in the game of life

Laughing too hard....

I'm laughing too hard...

SNL's Hillary: Reasons why I must be the nominee

Nice quality video, NBC.com

Excuse me, sir...

I can has...an economy?

see more crazy cat pics

Econololz

Problem? What problem? I don't see any problem...

Ever meet a person who seemed to have trouble getting up any enthusiasm for anything at all? Well, meet four of them as they play out what ought to be a wild fantasy, but somehow seems to be less than the sum of its parts.

AtomFilms.com: Funny Videos | Funny Cartoons | Comedy Central

"In a surprising turn of events, NY Governor Eliot Spitzer has filed a lawsuit against “Kristen”, a prostitute for the Emperor’s Club prostitution ring. Spitzer’s complaint alleges that “Kristen’s” refusal to allow him to sleep with her bareback, while allegedly knowing of his sexual addiction, constituted unfair exploitation of an ADA-protected disability."

I'm presuming this is fiction, and I'm wishing I'd written it myself.


Story

However...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She was feeling very glazed-over. It was unreal. Yeah, he was a prick, and he'd always treated her badly.

But it was still so unfair. She's always kept her part of the bargain. Supportive wife, prim and proper. And here he was, not only porking that chick—how many of them were there at that "club"?—but getting caught. Publicly. And now she had to stand behind him, humiliated, as his supportive wife, while all she really wanted to do was to strangle him. Maybe drown him. Or castrate him with her own hands. Which was more painful?

Yeah, he was making all the right apologies. But really, if he was sincerely sorry, it had to be for being caught. Because he knew it was the wrong thing to do, but did it anyway.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * '

The Principal put down the phone.

Her secretary looked at her and immediately realized the gravity of the situation. "We're going to have to do an intervention, aren't we?" she asked.

"There's no way around it." The Principal sipped her tea, now rapidly cooling. "Men who are ambitious and arrogant enough to want to be in public office should be automatically disqualified from the political process. It's all a matter of the hormones. Excessively masculinized males are unable to behave rationally when they think about females. They listen only to their cocks. All too often they end up doing all their thinking with the small head, behaving like some lower form of life—the lower forms of life that they are.

"All his life he's been competing against other males for power. Jockeying for position. He sees life as a zero sum game. He has been driven by the need to knock down other males and get more of that power for himself. It's pointless competitiveness to the extreme. He's addicted to it. He can never get enough power.

"He's going to be a tough nut to crack. Probably we should address the testosterone issue first. That has got to go. No way around it."


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The longsuffering wife put down the receiver with a little smile on her face. "Hey, honey. Don't you think we should get away for a little while? I know a place where we can get some respite from the damned reporters..."

Jon Stewart on War: 1996

Powered by ScribeFire.

Followup to the 'bike sex' case

In case you hadn't been following it, what we're talking about is a guy who was interrupted during a romantic interlude with his bicycle.

Yes, he pleaded guilty, and he was put on probation. But it turns out, according to a follow-up article, that it's ok to have sex with your bike, so long as you do it behind a securely locked door, where you won't shock anybody who's not accustomed to such things.

And now, for the lighter side of having sex with your bicycle...

Okay, I've always been one to think that the "dumb blonde" stereotype was just that, a stereotype. Lately a study has shown that looking at blondes can make guys more stupid, based perhaps on the idea that guys must lower themselves to be at some very low perceived intelligence level that blondeness can be equated with.

Now I'd be the first to admit that beautiful people who have gotten a free ride in life can be shallow, but of course this would be a cultivated form of stupidity—apparently one which many have chosen to exploit and cultivate. Oh, well...

But anyway, on to the video.

Participate in a research project!

I was browsing through some phone sex newsgroups, placing ads, and I noticed a little advertisement about a research project studying users of adult services.

I don't use these services, I'm just a provider. But my curiosity was piqued. I sent an email to the person who placed the advertisement, and promptly received back a response, which said that yes, they still need hundreds more participants.

It seemed fitting to place this in this blog, where many visitors land. If you're one of the people the researcher is looking for, take the survey. Or else. (Just kidding...)

Dear All,

I am a Doctoral Psychology student from a University in Melbourne, Australia researching the psychological characteristics of people who engage in Cybersex activities such as using Adult Chat lines, surfing for porn, erotic e-mailing, web-cam etc. For example, do they experience greater loneliness, sexual anxiety, depression etc if they engage in these activities for longer periods of time?

I am currently looking for anonymous participants to complete my questionnaire. At the end of the questionnaire there are a number of support services that you may contact if you suspect that your Cybersex activities are becoming a problem. The link for the questionnaire is provided below.

Survey Link

Kind regards

Marcus

What if? Part I

I've long thought that somebody should do a novel based on what might have happened if dubya had not survived the pretzel-choking incident. I still think somebody should, and it's still not likely to be me. But I will occasionally feel the urge to write a short story or two set in that alternate reality...

January 31, 2002

A tear ran down from the corner of Laura's right eye. Her lower lip began to tremble. Condi realized Laura was about to break down, and put her arms around her, pulling her in close and patting her back. "It's okay to cry," she said softly, brushing her hand across Laura's cheek to wipe away the tears and running it through her hair. "It's all for the best. You knew it was just a matter of time."

Laura nodded, but started to cry softly. "Why didn't he chew his food better? I feel like if I'd been with him it would never have happened."

Condi sighed, thinking, "Undoubtedly that's true, but it was hardly your responsibility to make sure he chewed his pretzels instead of inhaling them whole while transfixed as little objects moved across the television screen." Instead she said, "You know it's not possible to be everywhere. When guys are watching football, well, you know they have trouble multi-tasking..."

Laura nodded slightly, distracted, and started to cry. "I have to move out now," she sobbed. "Lynne and Dick told me they want me out within the week. What will I do? I don't really want to live in the middle of nowhere in that hellish wasteland… It's like a fortress there, a spy center. I want to live out in the world again." She started sobbing now. Condi pulled back and looked Laura straight in the eyes.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Laura," she said. "I understand you were married for a long time, but you're going to have to start being independent now. You really don't have any choice. I've found a place in the country where you can stay for a while, get away from the politics thing, recharge your batteries, and start to get used to making your own decisions and living for yourself. It's a school with a variety of programs, including a residential retreat for adults. They have women's leadership workshops there that may be just what you need to give yourself something else to occupy your mind. You made lots of sacrifices for his career, and now you need to start living for yourself. You know it's true."

Laura sniffed, "Have I heard of this school?"

Condi responded, "I don't think you would have. It's a different sort of private school. It's called The Gold Star Academy of Discipline because one of its main programs provides discipline to young men who weren't able to graduate from high school because they didn't have proper motivation. I'm sure a mature woman like you could help by giving them...guidance."

Laura stifled another sob, sighed, and began to get herself under control as Condi continued. "We can have your things shipped to the ranch for storage while you're away. I've contacted the people at the retreat and I can make all the arrangements in a phone call."

"Should I do this?" Laura asked. "Barbara was telling me that -"

"Forget what Barbara says. She doesn't matter right now. What's important is that you take care of yourself." Condi gave Laura another hug, Releasing her, she leaned forward. Their cheeks touched, and each turned to face the other. This time Laura's fingers brushed across Condi's cheek. They gazed for a moment into each other's eyes, then Condi brought her forefinger up to touch Laura's lips. It traced around. Then pulling it away, she brought her own lips to Laura's. They kissed briefly, parted, then kissed again, longer and harder.

Laura stepped back, confused. Two weekends ago she would have been terrified at the idea of ignoring Barbara, but suddenly, hearing those words come from Condi's mouth made her feel liberated. The passion felt welling up within her was unlike any she had ever felt before. Condi put her hands on Laura's hips and pulled her in close. They sank together to the sofa and fell into each other's embrace…

Bush goes after Democrats on health care

WASHINGTON - President Bush ratcheted up his confrontation with Democratic leaders Wednesday, laying out what he said is a stark ideological divide between a fiscally prudent, free market-loving GOP president and a Congress that aims to raise taxes and nationalize health care. MORE

W-w-w-wait a minute. "Fiscally prudent, free market-loving GOP president..." Looking under the table... Nope, not there. Looking behind the door... Nope not there. Looking in the White House... Nope, not there.

I don't see a fiscally prudent President in this entire country. What dreamland is Bush living in? I see a profligate spendthrift, glad to put poor and working people out on the street and cut them off from all social services that HE collects abundantly, selling us out to his corrupt cronies when he's not giving it all away. Penny wise and pound foolish is the best he could be described. Let's go start a war in Iran. That'll turn the other two disastrous wars we are dumping unlimited money into around.

Or maybe we can just start World War III, so Bush can bring on Armageddon and the End Times. It's his destiny, you know.

We know he's a liar, and he's delusional. C'mon people, lets all call him on this.

Dreamworld starts in the next life.

Beyond death, there is Heaven, and there is Hell, or so believers say.

They say that if you force yourself to believe in 'God', you would save yourself from 'Hell', just in case precisely such a vengeful god were to exist.

But how would you choose which sect to believe in? Not one of the thousand or more 'Christian' sects on earth believes that what the followers of any other are believing in or doing is good enough. So would it be good enough for the god they worship or not?

Should a prudent person just choose the christian sect with the most terrifying hell?

Or is that narrowing it down too far? Do we have any reason to believe that of all the millions of religions that have ever existed, one is more probable to be True and Right than any of the others?

Me, I don't believe. But imagine if each person's own heaven and hell were not just a figment of his or her imagination, but as real as that of the person on either side, and as real as reality itself.

For believers, these will be a reality. They will not just die, they will pass on, or be raptured. When they come to the head of the line at the Pearly Gates, their misdeeds will be subtracted from their good deeds. Perhaps at that point their own judgment will coincide with that of St. Peter, or whoever or whatever is to pass judgment on them. But then again, perhaps not.

Strike a deal with the Devil? Go right ahead. If you believe in the Devil, you can do that. But he will collect...

Comes The End

There is always a beginning, of course, but we will not worry ourselves about that. There are always so many different starting points. Did my life begin with conception? With birth? Or did it begin when the unique DNA classifiable as 'human' first resulted from some random mutation in a single egg cell or sperm?

The end is much clearer. When things come together and coalesce, we watch them happen, although we are often powerless to react, as in a dream.

Was it ever all a dream, and if so, how did any of it become reality?

The gray mist lifts up from the dank earth, rising to meet the sweet, acrid smoke drifting from the censer. It dances in the breeze, seemingly forming shapes, then as quickly dissipating, before you can say just what those shapes might be.

The flames of the candles flicker, barely lighting the scene.

On this night the dead will walk the earth with us again, unseen.

The chanting begins, as of old. Perhaps it is authentic, perhaps not. But it has always been good enough to wreak its magic and begin the casting of the spells, the incantation, the invocation of the unholy.

We can see them, the two men, one larger and one smaller. They are wearing dark robes. They raise their hands as they chant, wave with purpose. You can feel the energy growing as the volume of their chant increases.

There is an altar and a sacrificial knife, but you see no tribute, no offering, no victim...yet. There are bejeweled golden goblets of wine on the altar, waiting to be...what?

We see a point of light form at the center of the altar, beginning like the dot of red light of a laser pointer, growing in size, larger, until it is a large ball hovering over the altar. Amorphous in shape, it pulsates. Finally it coalesces, shrinks, and takes the form of a being—Beelzebub himself.

The Devil looks down and speaks to the smaller man. "What is this?" he says, pointing at the wine. "Where is the virgin you were going to sacrifice to me? And why this wine? That's supposed to be blood in the goblets." He points again at the goblets, and they tip over, spilling their contents.

"I think you're not taking your part of the bargain seriously. I've come through with what you needed, and now you're backing down. I think I should just take back all I gave you and leave."

The small man starts to bluster and bluff. Satan looks down on him and laughs. "Your time is up, little man. You never did intend to follow through on your promises, did you? But then they never do," he said, talking to no one in particular.

"Now I will collect," he says, snapping his fingers. In a white glow, the girl, the man's daughter, appears on the table, naked, terrified. She then disappears, dissolving into a mist. "She is mine."

"You can't do that!" screams the little man.

"Ah, but so I can," hisses Satan. "You have failed to fulfill your part of the bargain. You have grown increasingly arrogant. Your hubris astounds even me."

He puts his hands on his hips, inasmuch as a glowing red spirit in the shape of a devil can. "But I always knew you would do this. That was part of the deal, too. It was never up to you. You only deluded yourself into thinking you were able to strike a bargain, that you had free will."

Now the red glow dissolves and again forms a cloud, then a cyclone. Whirling around, it touches down onto the head of the larger man and vanishes within him. He speaks. "It never was up to you. Everything has always been up to me. I knew what I wanted and I had you offer it to me. I knew full well I would win in the end."

The small man says, "But, but..."

The big man cuts him off. "You're a fool. Did you really think you could get into heaven with the help of the Devil? I could take you now, but I don't need to. When you wake up, you will realize that you are the fool of the Nation and the world. Your power is gone. This is your fate."

The small man whimpers, "You are possessed by Satan."

Cheney laughs. "You don't get it, do you? Why would I be possessed by the Devil? I am the Devil."

The evil laughter echoes through the forest, and the small man sinks to the ground, feeling truly impotent and alone for the first time in his life.