March 31, 2005

....

...and now it doesn't matter anymore anyway.

"Regardless of your perspective on end-of-life issues this is very sad moment and a very reflective moment for a lot of us," said Senate President Tom Lee.

Yes.

Now there will be an autopsy.

sbt/sbc

Posted by Frida Peeple at 10:42 AM | Comments (0)

Yes, goddamn you all, it's another Schiavo post.

If you can't read anymore about this--and Goddess knows I damn near can't, so don't feel bad--go look at some cute kittens or read something funny or something.

Ever write a super-long, brilliant post, post it, and then find out the comments were closed, apparently right before you posted? [sorry rori, I think I got there too late]

I think the universe is getting back at me for not having working comments here.

So everybody, come and work my goddamn shift for me so I can sleep enough to have enough energy to give a shit about changing domains. [Yeah, I didn't think you would. 'sokay.] Because right now, I sorta don't care, frankly. I could do without comments forever. I could damn near do without this blog right about now.

I sure know I could do without closed posts stuffed full of trolls whose idiocy I'm prohibited from responding to [which I view not as rori's fault but the fault of the trolls whose semi-literate yammering surely forced her to close the thread out of self-defence]. Not that it would do any good. It's not that I want, necessarily, to reason with people who think Terri Schiavo is actually alive in that shell somewhere and that removing her feeding tube is murder; I know they can't be reasoned with. If they were using any logic at all instead of letting their emotions assrape their opinion-forming process, many of them wouldn't have that opinion about it in the first place. No, what I really want to do is beat them senseless. Why? Because people who can ignore indisputable facts [e.g. 8 neurologists* said she won't recover; her husband is her legal guardian and he's the only person who has a right to decide what to do with her anydamnway] in favour of the sort of hyper-emotional blubbering stupidity that floods the message boards frighten me. They frighten me because they can vote, and because they CAN'T be reasoned with. They can, however, be repeatedly and reliably led around by the dick by whoever can push the right emotional buttons on them, which is exactly what the Schindlers** and the Operation Jerkoff Rescue people are doing. And they can claim that I'm a godless buzzard with a shriveled moldy raisin in her chest where her heart should be, and that that's why I don't agree with their extravagantly emotional and logically bankrupt arguments. And that will sound totally believable to them, because they think that any tempering of emotion by reason is the same as not having feelings. Either that or Christianity has done such a good job of teaching them to be unquestioningly faithful that they're afraid to reason, as if the words "if," "then" and "therefore" were the three tines on the pitchfork of Satan.

I'd provide links for most of this, but you can find it all in Yahoo news, I'm sure, just by putting "schiavo" in their news search engine and clearing your calendar for the rest of the day so you can slog through it. I can't look at it anymore. I have a headache.

I will say this: If you think that somebody who's doped up on morphine and whose brain is largely disintegrated is capable of suffering, you have a very vivid imagination and are making full, though not terribly productive, use of it. Take your shitty picket sign and go write a novel instead of clogging up the forums.

I'm going to bed.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...
_____
*Yes, eight [8]. Which begs the question: HOW MANY FUCKING NEUROLOGISTS HAVE TO DECLARE HER A CABBAGE BEFORE YOU'RE CONVINCED? DO WE NEED A PAPAL DECREE? Under the circumstances, I doubt you'll get one.
**Who, oddly, have been told by the federal court--twice now--to go pound sand. Which begs the question: HOW MANY FUCKING JUDGES...oh, never mind.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 10:20 AM | Comments (0)

March 30, 2005

sorta makes you think...or not

Less than two weeks after Terri Schiavo's feeding tube is pulled out, the Pope has one put in.

And they're both Catholic.

COINCIDENCE?

Yeah, I sorta thought "who cares" too. I'm just sayin'.

Actually, as much naked sensationalism as the media has shown toward the Schiavo case, I'm surprised there hasn't been a reality show made about this:

"He's an 84-year-old pontiff whose public photo ops look like Weekend at Bernie's outtakes. She's been vegetating with no realistic hope of recovery for the past decade and a half. Join us for our exciting premiere episode of 'Who's Gonna Croak First?'"

Watch. This will be an actual show in 5 years or less.

Terri's probably either on the other side somewhere or has already reincarnated. If she's lucky, she has enough sense not to haunt her body or the hospice where she's being kept and can move on. On the other hand, if she's still trapped in there, it's time to set her free. The parts of the brain that the soul uses to interact with the physical world are gone, and if her soul's still in there somewhere, it's gotta be bored shitless. As for the Pope...he's perpetuated a lot of really stupid policies purely for the sake of preserving the doctrine of papal infallibility, but if he's against war, he can't be all bad. I wish them both a peaceful and painless transition.

And yet, in a fit of morbid waiting-for-the-other-toe-tag-to-drop anxiety, I can't stop asking, "Is she/he dead yet?" I know several people who are doing the same. They're not bad people, and it's not that they don't care, it's just, we're sick of the suspense.

Creepy little bastards, humans.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 08:18 AM | Comments (0)

March 28, 2005

Quote for the day

"I shaved my balls - they were going grey, so I shaved them. It's like steel wool down there!"

-Billy Idol, as quoted in Ananova

Back with more highbrow humour later.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 07:13 AM | Comments (0)

March 27, 2005

Happy Nail Your God To Some Wood Day!

Actually, I am gonna boil up some eggs, and perhaps dye them. I know some people at work like hard-boiled eggs, and I have an unopened dozen sitting in the fridge that will otherwise not get used before they go bad. I might even get some light mayo [fat-free has a nasty texture, regular has an unreasonable number of calories] and make some egg salad. Might use some fat-free plain yogurt in the salad too; that makes a good sub for mayo, although you don't want to sub it in completely, because it separates and your sandwiches will be gross.

And the laundromat is closed. I could pitch a big fit about how I don't get Beltaine off, but it won't do any good. The country's still run by Christians, and it just baffles me when some of them complain about declining enrollment, threats of the removal of the word "God" from the Pledge, and other such things. At least, it baffles me until I play a game with my nephew, and he's way ahead, and then his lead starts slipping and he starts whining because he's not as ahead as he should be, and begs me to let him win. Then I understand perfectly, because I know they do it for the same reason. I suppose when you're in the box seats, you'll sqeal if anybody tries to kick you out. I can't honestly say I wouldn't do the same, though I'd hope that I could catch myself doing it, and stop.

I'd say something about the Pope, but I'll refrain, it being Easter. Instead I'll talk about CD's.

Friday I picked up 3: Tori Amos's new one, The Beekeeper; Regina Spektor's Soviet Kitsch; and Arcade Fire's Funeral. This is highly unusual for me, because not only do I almost never pick up more than one CD at a time [unless I'm at the pawn shop], it's very rare that I will pay money for a record from which I haven't heard any songs.

The packaging for the Tori record is friggin' weird. It's pretty, but all the lyrics are arranged into little hexagons in a big long foldout sheet...and they do not, even slightly, follow the track order. So every time another song comes on, you have to hunt for the lyrics. Add that to the fact that her songs have become somewhat, shall we say, formulaic, and you have something that's very frustrating to listen to and follow along with while you're in a chatroom. So I shut it off about 3 tracks in and will come back to it later when I can devote my undivided attention to it. I don't doubt it will grow on me at least somewhat; it's not bad. It's just not Pele or Under the Pink. What're you gonna do, right? I also noticed--this was apparent in the photos for Tales of a Librarian, and even more so now--that she's developing a striking resemblance to Gates McFadden. If they ever did a Broadway musical production of "Star Trek: The Next Generation," Tori would be a natural for Dr. Crusher.

So it's a good thing that I got Spektor. She doesn't have as pretty a voice as Tori does, but her vocals are honest and guileless, and her lyrics just sparkle. She's also not a bad pianist. The supporting musicians are good, and there's one track where the percussion is just her with a stick [which is something I've always secretly wanted to try with a song]. It's not Pele either, but it's very refreshing. I think this will be my new painting music; it sounds like something that would go good mixed with some Rasputina and maybe some Belly. Somebody in one of the Amazon reviews mentioned that she sounds like a cross between Tori and Björk, which just about hits it on the head; what's interesting about this is the marked similarity to the handwriting in the Spektor CD booklet [which I'm assuming is hers] and the handwriting in Björk's Debut CD booklet [which I'm assuming belongs to Björk]. Hm...

Arcade Fire, alas, didn't want to work in my computer. Pity, cos I was looking forward to this one. The PC kept reading it as "data CD/no disc in drive," and when I went to My Computer\J: to find it, it said "device not ready" as if it totally weren't reading the disc. I did get it to play the first part of the first song, which wasn't bad; but then the disc stuttered and quit. What I heard sounded emotional and twee, but in a nice way--sort of like if Andrew Lloyd Webber was less of a pretentious fop and just wanted to write something nice instead of marinating it in pure distilled drama-queen emotion like he usually does. It sounded promising and certainly made me want to hear more. The disc doesn't look defective at all. Could be the PC or a format incompatibility--my CD-ROM is an ancient 2X with the words "compact disc" written in Sumerian and a tiny tallow candle behind the indicator light. I will try this one later, too, after a reboot. It could also be that I was at the time running Yahoo! Chat, which will squat in the middle of your computer, bogie all your system resources, and fuck up just about everything else you're doing every time it runs.

And that's about enough for today. I'm gonna reboot.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Lyric for the day:
the flowers you gave me are rotting
and still I refuse to throw them away
some of the bulbs never opened quite fully
they might so I'm waiting and staying awake

--Regina, "The Flowers"

Posted by Frida Peeple at 07:51 AM | Comments (0)

March 22, 2005

Bu[tt]lletin

In a world where important events happen every day, you can always count on the news staff here at Witchy Bitch [that would be me] to bring you News That Makes You Go "OMGWTF??!?"™

~In a heartwarming item, Celine Dion finally gets exactly the audiences she deserves. Well, not exactly. They're not armed.

~Three quarters of the universe is made up of mysterious crap we can't see and can only detect through mathematics. Scientists call it dark energy. I personally think it's that stuff that binds chicken nuggets together.

~"You don't know crap!" "Yeah, I do, I saw it at the science exhibit!"

~Why does this shit always happen in Romania? This time, a guy's wedding ring mysteriously leaves his third finger and ends up on his eleventh.

~Fat-bottomed girls, you make the Spockin' world go 'round.

~Holy shit! Nice kitty...good kitty...

That's enough. I wanna go to bed.

This is Frida Peeple, with News That Makes You Go "Um...What?"™

sbt/sbc

Posted by Frida Peeple at 12:48 PM | Comments (0)

March 20, 2005

Jesus Fucking Christ, People!

Congress Announces Deal in Schiavo Case

PINELLAS PARK, Fla. - As a deal in Congress was worked out to have federal courts decide Terri Schiavo's fate, emotions swelled outside the brain-damaged woman's hospice room Saturday, with protesters arrested after they symbolically tried to smuggle in bread and water on her second day without a feeding tube.

President Bush changed his schedule to return to Washington from his Texas ranch on Sunday to be on hand to sign the legislation.

Yeah.

You know, I'm not the Surgeon General or anything, but from what I know about the nervous system, when your brain has mostly liquefied, you're dead. By the way, since the federal government has stepped in on this, did they even ASK the fucking Surgeon General? Did they stop by his office with a copy of the CT scan* and ask what he thought before they pulled this shit? Does he think she's ever gonna wake up again?

Because I don't. Her autonomic nervous system still functions, which means her cerebellum is still intact enough to work, but everything that makes you a functioning human being, instead of just a functioning biological machine, lives in the cerebral cortex, which in her case has been dying off over the last decade and a half and being replaced by spinal fluid. So what you have is a shrunken little brain inside of a big thing of fluid inside the skull. Does that sound alive to you?

I'm just as sad as anybody else, with the obvious exception of her family [they knew her and were close to her, and I didn't and wasn't], about this whole sorry mess: the heart attack, the coma, the argument over the feeding tube removal, all of it. And it's hard to let go of anything--whether it's a relationship or a dying relative--if you think there's some hope that you can get it back. But there is no going back here. We passed the Rubicon on this at some unknown date in the past, whenever it was that her brain decayed to the point of being unfit for sustaining human consciousness.

Her heart still beats, and she still breathes, because her cerebellum is still functioning enough to be in control of her autonomic nervous system and tell her heart to beat. Her cerebellum is not doing this because she's alive. Her cerebellum is doing this because that's its job, and it will continue to do this as long as it is nourished and does not suffer trauma. Basically, it's functioning as an iron lung. It does not understand anything except making the body continue running. And we know, from medical science and from extensive legal precedent, that this is not the same thing as life.

Frankly, other than the emotions of the parents, and the blatant stupidity of everybody else involved [such as Congress], I really don't see why there's even an argument over this. You don't take dead people out of the morgue and stick them on life support because their families insist they didn't want to be dead. This woman is, for all purposes of what we define as human life, as dead as if she were on the slab. She's not coming back.

Gods.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...
_____
*This is a CT image of Terri Schiavo's brain. According to the Schiavo links page at the University of Miami site, it shows "extensive cortical regions filled with spinal fluid." I'm guessing that's the blue part, and the black part in the middle with the white spot in it is her actual brain. Many thanks to Ampersand for the links, and he has a post on this, with a comparison to a healthy brain, here.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 03:27 AM

March 19, 2005

erm...

Is it normal to have a two-day slow nosebleed?

Posted by Frida Peeple at 10:33 AM | Comments (0)

March 18, 2005

The winter spirits hate me.

Here's how I know.

We can go a week, 2 weeks, with little or no snow--or maybe an inch of the stuff that either melts right away or blows right off the roads.

Then I make an appointment to go somewhere, often someplace that requires a half-hour trip along a road on which people are known to make stupid and dangerous passes. And then, on the exact day that I have to go there--BUT NOT ON ANY OF THE 10 PREVIOUS DAYS, when it could have snowed 3 feet and not made a damn bit of difference to me--this happens.

$@##*!+?@!!!

[Image taken from www.weather.com.]

I was GOING to go to one of the colleges here and meet with somebody in admissions concerning online courses. Apparently they have a program where you can get an entire 2-year degree online. This would be perfect, for reasons such as the one in the image above. Call me a puss, since I have, after all, lived in Minnesota for ten years; but I really don't like the idea of highway driving in an area that has been designated as a "SEVERE WINTER STORM WARNING UNTIL 10:30 AM" area with "CRIPPLING SNOW ACCUMULATIONS OF 12 TO 18 INCHES" [according to the National Weather Service, that is] in an area that is directly adjacent to my route.

Gahhhhhhhhh.

Also in the gahhhhhhhh department...you ever go to the doctor and get blood taken, and then it doesn't bleed, but it never really heals back up under the skin, so by 2 days afterwards you have a gradually spreading bruise with a fresh purple center, and the arm you had the blood taken in is sorta weak?

No? Oh, shit.

And I've been blowing blood out my nose for a day now. I thought it was the dryness, but after boiling large amounts of water, and after taking a long steamy shower, all that happens is I blow out fresher blood.

Somehow I don't get the feeling this qualifies as being "well."

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 04:09 AM | Comments (0)

March 17, 2005

The Swearing of the Green

Happy St. Patrick's Day.

Erin Go Braless or whatever

If you're like me, and you're not Christian or Irish, and you don't drink ale or smoke meerschaums, then Happy Billy Corgan's Birthday.

he could go pantsless...no?  oh, all right...

If you're not a Corgan fan either, then Happy Thursday; or Happy So Glad I Don't Have Flu Day; or Happy Dammit I Have Flu When Is It Going To Go Away Day; or Happy Screw It Whatever Day. Or Happy Late Kurt Cobain's Birthday Because I Don't Remember When That Was Anymore.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 07:27 AM | Comments (0)

March 16, 2005

Floo Fighters

So I went to the doctor and she officially said I have the flu. I have a note and everything. She told me to stop taking potassium supplements because it can give you heart arrhythmia [oopsie], so it looks like it's Gatorade instead. It doesn't sound like a big thing, but electrolytes are nice when you're feverish and everything you drink comes back out your nose in the form of mucus. [I think I passed the 2-box mark on the Kleenex sometime Monday, counting from Friday. It's creeping up on 3.] So she wants me to stay home, rest, and NOT GIVE IT TO ANYBODY ELSE. Which is a shame, in a way; I've thought of a couple of people that I would dearly love to have it.

They also turned me down for my Depo shot because it's too early. I have to wait til at least Monday. This would be fine if it weren't for the fact that I've been increasingly hormonally unreasonable over the last week or so and was hoping to get it early to set me straight. No, their clinic policy dictates that no matter how soon your Depo craps out and stops working, and no matter how irrational you are, and no matter how badly you want to bludgeon everybody around you and chop yourself up into little pieces, you cannot have it any sooner than 11 weeks. [Of course, there's no law stating that I have to have my shot there...] Fortunately, this time I get to be insane mostly at home, where it won't scare anybody else. As long as I can hide my medications and razor blades from myself, I should be fine, though the weekend will be less than rollicking.

I want my stuffed skunkie.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Lyric for the day:
the abyss opens up
it steals everything from me

--Hole

Posted by Frida Peeple at 12:16 PM | Comments (0)

March 14, 2005

How To Have A Shitty Monday Without Leaving Your Apartment

~Wake up with a sore mouth and throat from sleeping with your mouth open because your nose is completely swollen shut.

~Get up and go online, too tired to be coherent and too congested and sore to care. Get in a few arguments. Call somebody a prick and iggy them.

~Have people come into the area downstairs at 6 am, turn on the TV and start using hammers and a circle saw.

~Have an argument with your friend about what you should do about this noise bullshit. Press the issue til she washes her hands of the whole matter. Slink away. You had it coming and you know it.

~Around 10.30, remember an appointment you had scheduled for 9 in another town, which you completely forgot about because you've spent the entire weekend in a Benadryl-and-fever-induced haze. You must call and reschedule.

~Decide to make popcorn. Using the air popper and melting butter is too much work, so find a packet of microwave popcorn whose purchase date has long faded into the past. Put it in the microwave and cook it until it sounds like it's done popping. Take it out, open it and discover that only about 1/3 of the kernels popped, and the rest are just swimming around in the butter-flavoured grease. Put it back in and listen to it pop for a minute, then give up and take it out. The popcorn will be brown and smoking. Put it in the trash can and watch smoke curl up through the gap in the lid.

~Decide you're going to try the other, slightly newer packet of a different brand of microwave popcorn. Put it in the microwave and cook it until you're sure it simply must be done. Take it out and discover that it is half popped and the popped part is brown and emitting smoke. Put it in the trash next to the other popcorn. Get out your air popper and make some popcorn, because goddammit, you're jolly well going to have some after all the effort you've gone to.

~Hope that the appointment you had scheduled for next Monday really WAS for next Monday and not this Monday.

Called in to work for tonight; with any luck, the rest of the day and evening will go a smidge better so I can actually rest enough to go in Tue. night. When you go to take a shower, and halfway through you start thinking how nice it would be to sit down and rest, you're not well yet.

Must sleep...

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

PS Comments still not working, am gearing up to move to WP which actually works. In the meantime, email.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 11:34 AM | Comments (0)

March 12, 2005

dammit

It's never good when you break a thermometer. It also doesn't help when it breaks while you're shaking it down to re-take your temperature to see if it's still 102, and when it's the last damn mercury thermometer you have because they stopped making them due to some claptrap about it being poisonous. If I want to stick a glass tube filled with a poisonous substance in my mouth, by grannies, I should be allowed to do it.

Think I'm gonna get a digital. But I'm not gonna get it today, because the only place in town that sells them is closed until Monday, and I don't wanna go outside with the flu when it's 18 degrees out anyway.

One saving grace was, I was wearing my robe, and it hit my other hand and broke into my lap, so I could just gather the mercury together, stand up and dump it in the trash can.

Also, if you're going to do a nasal cleansing to loosen mucus and hydrate your sinuses, make sure the water is a reasonable temperature. It can be pretty warm, but pour some on the back of your hand or something first. Don't do what I did and scald the inside of your nose. It really doesn't feel good when you're sick.

I just realised this is the first time I've been really sick and haven't had a TV to pass the time. That explains why I'm so bored. Books just don't do it...you have to hold them up. It's too much work. Internet is better, but if you have such a high fever that your hands and feet are cold, and you pull your arms into your robe to keep warm, it makes it hard to type or use the mouse. Still, I don't feel like going out and getting a TV and DVD player and paying cable or satellite bills every month just in case I get sick and bored and want TV.

I know it's stupid to blog about being sick, but I literally don't think I've been this sick since I was 20 and had mono. Oh, I had bronchitis once a year or two back, and had to stuff my lungs back in a couple times because I kept coughing them up, but other than that...

It really makes a difference when you stop living with smokers. People who smoke, and it doesn't cause them to get sick more often, don't bother me. But I'm sorta perturbed by people who smoke, who get colds and bronchitis all the time, or whose kids do. It's like, the cancer risk is one thing; that's a roll of the dice. There are people who smoke til they're 100 and don't get cancer or anything else. If you wanna take that risk, fine, that's your business. I take a risk every time I pull out of the parking lot and drive anywhere. But if you know for a fact it's making you sick RIGHT NOW and you're not making an effort to quit, or even mentally gearing up to get ready to quit...I'm sorry, that's just sorta dumb. That's basically saying you'd rather feel like shit all winter, and waste a bunch of money on medicine and doctors, rather than even try to quit. So you tried and failed. So what? Try again. Research supports the idea that if you keep trying to quit, eventually you'll succeed. If it's not making you chronically ill, and you're comfortable with the long-term risks, then go ahead and do it. I sometimes get warnings from other women not to be on Depo, that it's bad for me, but I still take it. You're entitled to take risks. By the same token, I suppose you're entitled to smoke to the point where you make yourself sick all the time. But really, that's not even risky, that's just...that's like licking doorknobs during cold season. It's more blatantly self-destructive than taking the cancer risk.

So now I'm gonna get e-mails from people who smoke, who are going to call me an anti-smoking nazi or something. Go ahead, but remember it's like anything else: if you're on one side of the issue and I'm on the other side, acting like a jerk while you push your side is not going to induce me to agree with you. It will just make me think that people on your side are jerks. I think it's fair to say, with the preponderance of evidence linking secondhand smoke to health problems [not just cancer, but more immediate, provable things like asthma and chemical sensitivity], that you should be allowed to do it as long as it's not hurting anybody else but you. As for the hilarious comparison people sometimes make between smoking and drinking, unless somebody spills their drink on me, I'm not going to get any secondhand alcohol.

Oh, the things that people think qualify as logic. Simply hysterical.

The inside of my nose hurts really bad. I really don't know why Mother Nature thought people should have nerve endings there.

ack.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 01:52 PM | Comments (0)

March 11, 2005

Flu Made Who

[Title taken from King's The Stand.]

I have flu again.

I know I have flu because the only other explanation for how I feel would be if I gargled with sulfuric acid and stuck my head under a moving vehicle, and I don't remember doing that. Since I wasn't drinking or taking any powerful psychotropic drugs, I assume my memory is sound.

If I could just chop my head off and keep the rest, I'd probably be okay. I'm not really achy. Of course, I can't, because then I'd die.

That actually doesn't sound so bad right about now.

Anybody got an ax?

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

[This post brought to you by severe, brain-squeezing sinus congestion, and the makers of Equate brand generic Benadryl. Wheeeeee....]

Posted by Frida Peeple at 11:25 PM | Comments (0)

March 08, 2005

and again, for reasons unknown...

Weird Ones. [Last week's, actually, but that's okay; I didn't get to them until today.]

1. A man killed a woman using a slab of creme cheese. How did it happen?
Depends on how big the slab is and whether he had access to a walk-in freezer. I'm envisioning a Looney-Tunes-esque scenario involving a rope, an enormous slab of frozen cream cheese suspended from a great height, and the perp getting the vic to stand directly under the murder weapon.

2. Without using examples define the word romance. Now do the same thing for the phrase 'Custody Battle'
Well, without using examples, the best way to do it would be to use synonyms. My favourite synonym for "romance" is "schtuppy love." As for the phrase "custody battle," the synonym "child-scarring emotional road accident of a family clusterfuck" comes to mind. [Not that I've seen many custody battles, but the ones I have seen didn't look like they were even a bit more fun than that synonym.]

3. If you were a superhero and had an arch-nemesis, who would be your arch-nemesis, what would they wear, and what would their power(s) be?
um...Pat Robertson, probably. He'd wear a very conservatively cut suit, and his power would be to convince people that gays, pagans, TV and rock & roll are to blame for the fact that the number of people who will believe a story about a talking snake is dwindling.

4. What's a bamzu? Now make up a more believable definition which is still equally wrong.
It's sort of like a bandersnatch, only more frabjous.

Okay, it's not. It's, um...it's...damn. That's it! It's a Klingon swear word. It means "your dad steals Kotex."

5. Why do we use a bar of soap from the outside in rather than from the inside out?
Well, we probably could do it the other way, it's just that we generally don't take enough LSD to make it possible.

Well, that was fun. Hopefully the new ones will be posted tomorrow...

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 08:31 PM | Comments (0)

Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200

Yeah.

Accuser's Bro. Says He Saw Jackson Abuse

Call it a premature hunch, but I have a feeling MJ's goin' to jail.

What disturbs me is this. It's entirely possible that the testimony is true, in which case a mentally ill person who never got help for his problem ended up warping these children. It's also entirely possible that the children were coached to the point of having vivid and detailed false memories planted, as happened many times during the Satanic panic of the 1980's. If the defense counsel can find enough inconsistencies between the vic and the brother, he may be able to incorporate false memories as part of his argument involving a conspiracy to bilk Jackson. If he can shred the witness on cross, he'll have a good chance at an acquittal. Of course, since children with real memories are as vulnerable to the psychological manipulation of a brutal cross-examination as children with false memories are, shredding the witness won't prove much except that he can confuse traumatized children. If the testimony stays consistent, however, and he can't discredit the brother or the vic, Jackson's going to jail whether anything happened or not.

The whole thing's fucking sad. It's sad that these children have to be put through it. If Jackson did it, they're reliving a traumatic time in front of the entire media. If he didn't do it, they're pawns in a con game. What's more, Jackson gives child-loving eccentrics an even worse name than they had before. If there was anybody left who was willing to assume that a person could just be odd, or just have a love for children, without being a pedophile, I don't think there is anymore. And that's also sad. Not that I personally have any great attachment toward children, but it would be nice to be smiled at by a random kid, and smile back, without being looked at by their parents as though I'm going to drag them behind a bush and rape them with a stick. I'm not even really that damn weird. It's just that every parent wonders if everybody else is a child-groping pervazoid, and now they're gonna wonder even more, especially if the person doesn't seem "normal," whatever the hell that is anymore.

What's sadder is that there's probably not a goddamn thing waiting for Jackson in jail that's going to help him redeem or improve himself as a person. Because whatever else he is, he's obviously both mentally ill and emotionally sensitive. If he's really lucky, maybe they have a good counselor there that has time to work with him on whatever his issues are, because he's gonna have all kinds of time and not a lot of other things to distract him. As to whether pedophiles and other criminals are capable of being successfully treated or reformed...I think if you're going to have a prison system which is going to let them out eventually anyway, you'd jolly well better at least try to rehabilitate them, even if it isn't a stunning success. Otherwise you've only given society a temporary reprieve from them, and calling it a "corrections system" is a farce.

But that could turn into a whole 'nother furniture-chewing session, and will if I don't sign off now.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 08:43 AM | Comments (0)

March 07, 2005

okay, this is just so wrong.

You know those eBay ads you see on webpages, where they substitute a keyword related to the page you're viewing and insert it into the ad?

Well...

[Image taken from the Random Kitten Generator.]

Do they recondition the used ones or sell them as is?

[Update: Okay, for some reason the image is not showing up for me. This sucks. I do not know why it is doing this. I think it's because my firewall thinks it's an ad, which is odd, because the damn thing didn't block the original ad--just this image, which only renders when NIS is off.]

Either somebody at eBay needs to tweak the ads, or something is horribly wrong in the cat adoption industry.

Just sayin'.

sbt/sbc

Posted by Frida Peeple at 09:12 AM | Comments (0)

This just sorta pissed me off.

Now, I agree that there are lots of dietary sources of calcium, and it's always a good thing if you can get your kid to eat their veggies. But this article...

Exercise, Some Calcium Build Strong Bones- Report

Other ways to obtain the absorbable calcium found in one cup of cow's milk include a cup of fortified orange juice, a cup of cooked kale or turnip greens, two packages of instant oats, two-thirds cup of tofu, or 1-2/3 cups of broccoli, the report said.

How the fuck many kids are gonna eat cooked kale or turnip greens? Or 1 2/3 cups of broccoli? And don't even get me started on tofu. Did these numbnuts ever consider the possibility that parents give their kids milk because it's easier and cheaper than trying to make an 8-year-old eat an entire cup of cooked kale which is probably going to be thrown out uneaten?

Dairy products provide 18 percent of the total energy and 25 percent of the total fat intake in the diets of American children, who are developing increasing rates of obesity.

25 percent of the total fat intake, huh? Gee, skim milk sure does have a shitload of fat in it, doesn't it? Except it doesn't have any at all. Oh, they're not giving their kids skim milk? They're giving them 2% and whole and then wondering why they're fat? Well, hmm. Doesn't look like cutting out most of their milk is necessarily the only correct solution to that, does it? I'll tell you one thing, if you take out half or 2/3 of the milk in their diet and try to replace it with kale and broccoli, you'll have some of the skinniest damn kids on the planet. They'll hate you, and hate vegetables, for the rest of their lives, but they'll be skinny.

The easiest way to get that calcium is from low-fat dairy products, which also contain valuable nutrients such as vitamin D, which is generally not available from other dietary sources, he [Dr. Greer] wrote.

Nawwww! Really?

That being said, though, I really do agree with the doctors in the article about exercise for kids. How in the hell the government can hamstring schools on their funding [due to the No Child Left Behind In Our Contempt For Non-Geniuses law], force the school to cut out arts, phy. ed. and damn near everything else but overhead projectors, and then blame everybody else when the kids don't get enough exercise...dunno. [I agree that having schools work toward higher academic standards, and make sure people aren't totally illiterate when they leave school, is crucial. However, I don't think it's going to help badly performing schools to cut off their funding any more than having the Pharaoh tell Hebrews to go make bricks without straw helped them make better damn bricks, or made them more obedient or efficient in any way.]

But that wasn't what I wanted to get off onto. I just wanted to say that exercise is good for children. [I took a 40-minute walk yesterday myself, and all I can say is, thank gods for that trail. It's lovely to be able to walk backwards and work different muscles without fear of tripping. Come to think of it, I should put the skis backwards on my Nordic Track and see if I can do that backwards. Using the same muscles all the time just makes them ache.]

***

Also in food news, good news:

British celebrity chef launches fight against junk food at school

Just go read it. I think this guy is neat.

***

No news from me. Same shit, different day.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Bumper sticker for the day: "Hurry up and pass me--you wouldn't want to be late for your own funeral!" [Okay, I've never seen this one, but I want one so bad. The text would be small, but I think somebody tailgating in preparation for a pass could read it. Assuming they can read. I mean, if somebody's already going 5 miles over the limit, and you pass them in a passing zone that's measured out according to the limit, then your passing zone is too short; and if you haven't the sense to figure that out, well, natural selection's a bitch, ain't it?]

Posted by Frida Peeple at 05:46 AM | Comments (0)

March 03, 2005

brief moral dilemma

Is it immature and narrow-minded to remove somebody from your friends list just because they're conservative and pro-life?

Oh, it is? Well, too bad. I already did it.

I've had a lot of conversations with a lot of different kinds of people in my life; and one thing I've found is that talking to somebody who's diametrically opposedto your views, or nearly so, is a frustrating, hypertension-inducing and ultimately fruitless way to re-evaluate your own opinions. I've had much more profound and lasting changes of heart from listening to people whose opinions are somewhat congruent to mine than from listening to people who are diametrically opposed. And there are probably a couple issues on which I've gradually shifted from one position to the opposite position.

But if you think an embryo is a person, you can't talk to me, because I can't understand any reason for thinking something like that that doesn't involve a] profound stupidity or b] a religious belief that you somehow, out of supreme arrogance, think it right to push onto people who don't share that belief. Or it could be a combination of the two, where you're actually so brainwashed as to confuse your religious beliefs with facts. I don't know if the fetus has a soul. It might, so does that give somebody else the right to say "no abortion, just in case fetuses have souls"? Well, shit, who knows if plants have souls? Let's outlaw broccoli now, because broccoli's fucking alive, until you pick it, and you can't prove it doesn't have a soul. If we can use that logic on humans, why not on other living things? Why not on the animals we experiment on? Why not on the trees we cut down? They don't have souls? How do you know? [I'm not saying they do or don't, mind you, only that you jolly well can't prove it anymore than you can prove we do. It's up to you to believe or disbelieve it.]

And if you can tell people they shouldn't have abortions because of a possible, unprovable soul that some people believe in and some don't, then I should be able to have a law passed saying that you can't walk on the sidewalk in front of my apartment because it disturbs the, I don't know, sidewalk faeries or something. Why the fuck not? There are people that believe in faeries. You can't be certain of whether sidewalk faeries exist or not, can you? Sure, lots of people will insist they don't, but lots of people insist there's no such thing as a soul either, so that's no basis for claiming their nonexistence as fact. There aren't any laws I'm aware of that make provisions for the protection of faeries or ghosts or any of the numerous other beings whose existence is in question. So what do believers in sidewalk faeries do? They simply don't walk on the areas of the sidewalk where they think the sidewalk faeries live. Don't like abortion? Well, you can say you don't like it, and you can choose not to have one if the opportunity to make that choice arises. I don't consider that an extremist position at all. I consider it quite moderate, and the only reasons it's associated with leftists instead of moderates are a] it's a popular issue with feminists, who are quite often on the left; and b] the true opposite of anti-abortion would be pro-abortion, i.e. the position that people have mandated abortions. No matter what some of the more rabid pro-lifers claim, the pro-choice platform has never been in favour of mandating abortion for anybody. However, you don't hear from many true pro-abortion types, and when you do, they're often classified as Communists in the same vein as the Chinese. So the only really visible opposition to the position on the far end of the spectrum is the moderate view, which makes the moderate view look closer to the far opposite end of the spectrum, because people will put a mental line about halfway between the two most visible positions on the spectrum and call it the center whether it objectively is or not.

I'm very sure I'm not making sense, and I'm too tired to care. It's like this: I talk to enough conservatives at work. I don't need more of them on my time off. Maybe some moderates would be nice. If I wanted somebody to agree with me all the time, I'd never talk to anybody but myself [and then I still wouldn't get a consensus half the time]. But neither am I obligated to listen to opinions that I've already listened to, considered and rejected for what I consider good reasons, and nor am I obligated to listen to every opinion on the planet. [Further illustration of this concept can be found here and here.] I have enough acid reflux, thank you.

I'm going to bed. Ta.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 12:14 PM | Comments (0)