Culture


So, I’m checking up after my boys. They spend a little time online, so I go and sweep up after them (much like the real world).

Every once in a while I come across something I wish I hadn’t seen, and we all have to have a talk (nothing horrid – I employ filters, people!) (like when the object of the game was to make our President (GW) hit as many obsticles and bleed as often as possible. Eldest thought this was funny. Many hours of ‘room time’ later, I convinced him that the President of the United States of America was to treated with respect in our home, realistically and virtually. No matter what Daddy says about gas prices…)

I was completely unprepared for Mama Mia!. Hugh Jackman? Used to think he was SO doable. But so many more I respect. Meryl. Holy God, that’s Colin Firth. With the hottie from ‘Big Love’. My heart is broken wide open. We have another ‘Moulin Rouge’ on our hands? Aaaahhh!

What could they be thinking?!

One of my visitors searched me out with “What does it mean when I crap on myself?”

Ha HA HA!

How did he get to me? Seriously, how did he get HERE?

Laughing is the only thing I can do, cuz…  ick.

Where do you people come from?

I’m thinking of poor Scalzi, with his 10,000 per day. He must hit delete without any thought, and smile at the spam-filter.

I, on the other hand, am a little person (online-wise). I have friends and family who come here, and catch up.  My grandfather visits here. When weirdo child-molester ass-wipes pays me a visit, I am completely creeped.

What are you people thinking? No, really. You could not actually be thinking. When two years of my life and my loves and my children are all here for your perusal, you choose ‘Hot Wrestling Women’ as the top post?

Ew.

You are the reason people don’t want to connect. You are what we’re afraid of. I have met some terrific people online, (Meabh just had a similar post, in fact) but you make me afraid to even try. Shame, so much shame, on you.

But I will win. I will keep posting, even though I know you sick (people?)  are lurking. I will visit those folks whom I know and trust are not creepy, and I will keep on keeping on. I trust they will do the same.

I will delete you, and block you, and shout to the rooftops with my addlepated YAWP that you are not the majority (God, I hope not).

Information may want to be free, but it certainly does not want to be in your hands, you sick fucks.

Stay away from me.

Too young. So talented. My heart goes out to his family, especially his children. Jeff Healey, an inspirational man and gifted musician, died of cancer in Toronto yesterday at the age of 41.

Hubby’s in Toronto. Riding the Metro this morning, he was perusing the local paper, and came across and advertisement for the most amazing thing: Evil Dead, the Musical! Brilliant!

And my passport needs to be renewed. Little chance I can get that done before the show ends…

Maybe they’ll come to DC?

As I mentioned to Hubby, I could wish this guy (Michael Israel) was not so angry when he painted. He acts like he’s beating up the canvas. Some unresolved issues there. Then go to his website, and learn about his martial arts training. Hmmm. Gorgeous stuff, amazing stuff, but all of it angry. Gorgeous, precious, priceless things. But angry.

But… Wow.

I mean, WOW.

Really.

My father and step-mother came to visit last weekend, for our Christmas celebration. Three weeks into January. That’s how we roll…

They brought Guitar Hero III. The kids love it.

So does everyone else, apparently:

Check out Eldest Son air guitaring along. Cute.

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Grandma even makes guitar player faces.

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Hubby and Brother jam to “Dead or Alive” (which reminds me of a funny story. My 80 year old Grandmother (in law) was talking about Jon Bon Jovi this morning at breakfast. “He’s a HUNK!” she exclaimed. Hubby nearly spit out his coffee…):

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Though Hubby looks kinda bored.

I haven’t tried it yet. I play an actual guitar. I’m worried Guitar Hero will mess with my chops.

I read a story on one of y’all’s blogs – I can’t remember which one, sorry. Might’ve been Defective Yeti - about Rob Murrie, a PC from Bedfordshire who gave a prank Secret Santa gift of bacon and wine to one of his Muslim coworkers. Dumb thing to do, in a teenage boy sort of way. Mothers and wives the world over smack their foreheads with their palms and go, “Oh, Lord help me, not another attempt at funny.”

But Arshad Mahmood, the recipient of the gift, considers Murrie a good friend, didn’t think he meant anything malicious by it, and “took in on the chin” (as you do, when your friends give you a hard time about something). He probably was thinking, “You’re a jackass,” but apparently didn’t voice that thought.

What he also did not do was complain. To anyone. Nor did the Muslim community. The local mosque seems to have had the idea that Murrie did a dumb thing, and we should all get over it. Bravo Mahmood and the local mosque.

But someone else complained, and Murrie was forced to resign due to the ensuing political and media pressure. This man’s life has been derailed, because he has an insensitive sense of humor. I find this ridiculous.

Then this morning I find this story. A reporter made a stupid remark on the Golf Channel. (Yes, the Golf Channel. This is what we’ve been reduced to.)

“But then, on Jan. 4, during the Golf Channel’s important telecast of, well, something or other, announcer Kelly Tilghman suggested the best way other golfers could slow down Woods would involve a back-alley lynching.”

And the tens of people watching from around the country cringe, think something along the lines of, “That was a stupid thing to say,” and go on with their lives. (It’s not like, with George W. at our helm, we’re not used to this.)

Tilghman apologized, Tiger shrugged and said, ‘No biggie,’ and the story ends there, right? Of course not. Because of course Tilghman had to be suspended anyway. I mean, this is America! We can’t have that kind of free speech around here!

But wait, there’s more…

The intrepid editor for GolfWeek Magazine (Golfweek? Really? I mean, really?) runs a cover with a noose. He is, of course, immediately fired.

This is out of control, folks. Don Imus is a prick, no question. He’s also a shock-jock. That’s his job (well, it was his job). So why did we fire him for being shocking?

George Allen uses the word ‘mecaca,’ not having a clue what it means (that part was stupid, too), and loses an election for it.

The examples are endless.

The longer this PC stuff goes on, the more tiresome I find it. Look, not everything is racist. My kids are a serious minority in their schools, their friends and mine are racially mixed, and none of us find this discomfiting. Occasionally, we even *gasp* rib each other about it. I don’t blink when a friend says to me, “Must be a white thing” when I say something goofy, or informs me that I won’t understand something because “It’s a black thing.” I mean, seriously, my kid’s favorite song is “White and Nerdy.” Tell me that’s not derogatory. And funny. And good natured. Who  should I complain to? Who can I fire? My kids are going to be traumatized by the fact that they’re white! And nerdy! Call the ACLU, somebody, quick!

People in society stick their feet in their mouths sometimes. I think we all need to put on our big kid pants and move on. Impacting people’s lives and livelihoods because they say some bonehead thing or other is ridiculous and unconstitutional.

I had a recent 80s flashback. I recovered, with no visible scarring. But I took something home with me:

Does anyone remember Kate Bush? The weepy punkromantic’s icon? The predecessor of the current emo kid?

They haven’t got these tunes today, that I’m aware of. (My boys love that tune about Mom being lost in 1985. But that’s ‘cuz they don’t really know drama. So I say, so it is written.)

This song – and Wurthering Heights – taught me what drama was, when I was still a child. God Bless you, girl.

But again, I’ve strayed from my point.

My point is Tim McInnerny. Check him out. He rocks. Sexy, strong, and sad. (And the fact that he looks kinda like Hubby has NOTHING to do with my appreciation of his theatrical skill. Truly.)

In the ‘What U.S. City Are You?’ test, I scored:

  

Your Score: HARTFORD!

You scored 42% Style, 39% Climate, and 45% Culture!

You are Hartford, Connecticut. Hartford, located at the end of the navigable portion of the Connecticut River, was settled in 1623 as a Dutch trading post. In 1636, a group of English settlers left Massachusetts and formed a colony here. The settlers made peace with the local Algonquin Indians, who called the town Saukiog, and renamed it after Hertford, England. Shaped by the social and economic forces which gave rise to industrial growth in America, Hartford grew and prospered as successive waves of immigrants came to work, build and settle in the community. This ethnic and cultural diversity continues to be a prominent part of Hartford’s heritage and one of the city’s greatest assets. Hartford also became an important cultural and communications center. The nations oldest public art museum, the Wadsworth Athenaeum, was founded in 1844. Supported by prominent benefactors like J.P. Morgan, the museum grew to become one of the top ten art museums in the country. Authors like Mark Twain and Harriet Beecher Stowe were drawn to the area, because, as Twain said “of all the beautiful towns it has been my fortune to see, this is the chief.”

You have landed yourself in a more laid back city because you are not fond of typical city crowds and city folk, but would probably be happier in a smaller town. You also don’t mind the change in seasons, even though you prefer more sunshine and warm weather to the opposite. You probably enjoy a good film or art show every now and then, but more often than not, you just like to kick back and enjoy the outdoors and nature. You could stand to be a bit more open-minded because it would make you all the more well-rounded. Hartford fits you alright, although you’d probably do well in the countryside, too, far from the hustle, bustle, and stress of the city.

Link: The Which Major U.S. City Are You? Test written by weeredII on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

I’m sorry, but I never saw myself as The Insurance Capital of the World. I think of myself as more of a Savannah, Georgia, sort of gal, minus the Junior League.

…and that really is a shame. We don’t do fast food too much in my family, but with three young boys, we opt for fast food on occasion. And when we do, we usually agree on BK as the best option.

But I am so disgusted by the ‘Hit-moms’ ad campaign, the only way I can show my displeasure is to no longer do business with them.

The idea that suburban homemakers (like myself) would be so distressed by a better sandwich that they would band together and hire a hit-man is absurd, upsetting, and when I think that my sons may find it funny, disgusting.

Since when is threatening someone’s life funny? Since when is threatening someone’s life the choice we should make when they do something better than we do? Since when have mom’s been so insecure about their skills that they would hire a hit-man (unless, of course, their daughters are cheerleaders)?

Now, of course I realize the absurdity of the campaign. I am not inclined to find a hit-man to whack the King based on this sorry example. But what kind of asinine message is this campaign sending to children – the very demographic that Burger King hopes to receive its future money from? This campaign is stupid, insulting, and a tragic indication of how ridiculous many large corporations believe the American consumer to be.

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