the_archfiend

I fail to see much of a difference between what the Texas State Board of Education is now passing off as "curriculum revision" (the longer piece by Katherine Stewart can be found here) and a certain other kind of rewriting of history. Sorry if that analogy irritates some people, but the only real difference I see between people like Don McLeroy and Eustace Mullins is (A) what they're primarily lying about and (B) one of them didn't get appointed by "Ranger" Rick Perry.  

Oh, look. Another one.

My guess is that Mr. Gipson didn't read the study that points out what really motivates some of this stuff, demagogic attempts at scoring votes from fellow knuckle-draggers notwithstanding. Maybe he should've asked Larry Craig for advice. Or not. 

Meet Pastor Charles Worley. Please feel free to suppress the urge to punch him in the face for the following:

The 71-year-old Worley delivered the sermon on May 13, apparently in response to President Barack Obama’s public endorsement a few days earlier of same-sex marriage. Just a day before Obama’s announcement, North Carolina voters approved by a considerable margin a constitutional amendment to ban gay marriage and same-sex civil unions in their state.

In the sermon, an animated Worley told the congregation of his independent Baptist church:

“I figured a way out, a way to get rid of all the lesbians and queers but I couldn’t get it pass the Congress – build a great big large fence, 50 or a hundred mile long. Put all the lesbians in there, fly over and drop some food. Do the same thing with the queers and the homosexuals. And have that fence electrified so they can’t get out.

And you know what? In a few years they will die out. You know why? They can’t reproduce. If a man ever has a young'un, praise God he will be the first.”

Worley continued, his voice rising: “I tell ya right now, somebody said, 'Who you gonna vote for?' I ain’t gonna vote for a baby killer and a homosexual lover! You said, ‘Did you mean to say that?’ You better believe I did!”

What an utterly charming guy, eh? And yeah, you actually saw the word "young'un". I guess they must like their imitation stormtroopers nice and folksy down there in the Tarheel State. 

I don't know what's more sickening about this blather of his - the fact that he openly advocates concentration camp tactics in order to re-establish a mythic moral purity that this country has never possessed, or that he spouted this gibberish in a church as part of a Mother's Day sermon.

This is just another example that the craziness level in certain areas of this country is becoming more and more ridiculous as we get closer to the November election. Unfortunately, by the time September rolls around you can probably expect it to be close to Porky in Wackyland-like surreality in terms of irrational maliciousness. 

...at least if you're a spittle-flecked state legislator like Virginia's Robert "Sideshow Bob" Marshall. Not having made enough of a name for himself by making the glaringly stupid statement that handicapped children are a punishment for legalized abortion or his equally vapid rant on flying a rainbow flag outside the Federal Reserve Bank in Richmond, he decided to up the wingnut ante by playing a central part in making sure that state prosecutor Tracy Thorne-Begland wouldn't become a judge because he seems to...er...prefer comfortable shoes (a perfectly ridiculous way to state that he suffers from T3H 3V1L GAY!!1!!, but aren't we living in ridiculous times in the first place?). Oh, and he recently doubled down on his opposition to sex that he finds simply icky. What a fun guy.      

It must feel odd to the Koch brothers that their wholly-owned little Governor of Wisconsin is so incapable of keeping his mouth shut about tactics like a good employee should.

Done. And it took a mere 5-plus years to resolve this mess.

Free clue to JP Morgan Chase: Effectively pissing away a minimum of $2 billion on bad hedge bets may not be the way to reassure Congress (or the President, or anyone else) that previously deregulation of the banking industry was particularly bright.

Other free clue: my (admitted) layman guess is that Glass-Steagall would've probably prevented - or at least limited - this latest debacle. It's unfortunate that it's no longer on the books. Very unfortunate, IMHO.   

On May 8th, 2010 I walked past the Purple Hotel on Touhy and Lincoln and - taking notice of the real estate signs that had been posted over three and a half years since I attended Reactor there  - said to myself, "Self, if the hovel that's up for sale for a ridiculously high price is left untouched by either a construction or demolition crew in two years, you win the right to buy a nice bottle of scotch for yourself. If not, you get to walk into L Woods and drink a toast to the memory of the first place you ever attended a fan-run SF convention back in 1985." 

It's now May 10th, 2012, of course. Therefore, I won. Sort of.

Since there's an impending auction by yet another real estate company that's looking to deal the PH tomorrow (details can be found here, here and here),  I'll eventually be picking up a bottle of something strong - even if I have to go a cheaper route than the single malt I originally fancied.

Deadline by Mira Grant, largely because it was practically the only 2012 Hugo best novel nominee I could find that isn't currently checked out of a (Chicago Public) library somewhat within the grasp of my greedy little fingers. 

First it was Jan Berenstain back in February; now it's Maurice Sendak.

Can't say I was much for the Berenstain Bears back in the day, but I had a copy of Where the Wild Things Are, of course. This explains a good deal about me, I suppose, though I'm not sure why.