Twisted Spinster

I didn’t hear a peep about this either: in New York City a little over a month ago a big, brave He-Man Obama fanatic beat a woman over the head with the wooden stick from her own sign because she dared — dared I tell you — to protest Our Sacred Leader, Barack Obama. You know, I have been hearing about the danger of crazed, Christianist, rightwing Rethuglikkkans to our country ever since the fucking end of the fucking Vietnam War but for some reason the people perpetuating actual physical violence nine times out of ten have turned out to be people of leftist political persuasions. I’m not going to insert the usual disclaimer about Not All Left-Leaning Liberals Are Drooling Violent Asstards because duh, but if you ask me most of the civilized leftists have by this time seen the light and moved rightward. Like me. And the rest of them are, I swear, DINOs. Anyway, Our Betters In the Media have been too busy chasing voices in their heads (the fake “kill him!” guy that no one can find or actually remembers hearing), guys carrying stuffed monkeys, and Joe the Plumber’s personal business to bother with this sort of thing. Besides, it’s not like any real people were hurt, only a McCain supporter.

(Via Ace of Spades.)

I don’t know what’s worse about the review of this play — the play itself (yet another rub-humanity’s-nose-in-shit funfest featuring vile characters doing vile things to each other because, ummm…. war is hell or something original and groundbreaking like that), or the reviewer’s glowing assessment, which doesn’t miss a single cliché from the Nu Theater Reviewer Book of (Non) Style: the actors are “brave” for taking off their clothes and simulating all sorts of sex acts, the play “shocks” because its “horrors are created by characters who are not, finally, so unlike us,” life is dull so therefore people are somehow justified in doing horrible things to each other, early audiences for the play were “Victorian” in their reaction (in other words, they reacted like I am doing now) and so on. The reviewer’s own style is sub-par Rex Reed, or like that person who wrote movie reviews for Cosmopolitan back in the Eighties who loved every. Single. Film. That he saw. Even those Benji movies.

It’s things like this that make me glad I’m a middle-class, ordinary clod whose response to “the dull cloth of the everyday” is to want art to be beautiful and uplifting. How bourgeois! One good thing, though: the author of this piece of trash committed suicide a few years ago, so at least she won’t be writing any more of her “astounding dramas.”

(Via a commenter on Ace of Spades, who unfortunately attended a performance of this beauty.)

Hey, you know that mysterious “Kill him!” shout that supposedly happened at a McCain/Palin rally and meant all Republicans are evil racists who want to Lynch Barack Obama? Well guess what… the incident may never have happened at all.

So, what have they got left on us… the guy with the stuffed monkey? Let’s see… that’s as opposed to the front yard diorama of McCain dressed in a KKK outfit chasing Barack Obama with a baseball bat (apparently — it’s hard to figure out from the “artist’s” less-than-coherent explanation — it’s to illustrate how campaigning against Obama is racist), t-shirts that say “Sarah Palin is a Cunt,” selling her son Trig on Ebay, insane demands to see Sarah Palin’s medical records from the birth of Trig to “prove” that her daughter isn’t actually the mother, attacks on her daughter’s out of wedlock pregnancy that are right out of the Conservatives Are Intolerant And Sexist Haters Handbook (so much for Progressive acceptance of all of a woman’s choices about her sexuality, eh?), “let’s stone her, old school” at a Palin appearance in Philadelphia (the City of Brotherly Love? I guess not) and etc.

And then there is the Obama campaign itself: blatantly using race to get votes while accusing the other side of racism, accepting support and encouragement from known, unrepentant domestic terrorists in a time of war against foreign terrorists and not even bothering to think up a good excuse when confronted with the fact but instead fobbing it off with a weak lie, openly dissing those citizens in the country who didn’t go to an Ivy League and don’t hold cocktail parties in art galleries as “bitter, Bible-clinging” so-and-so’s while claiming to be the party of the Working Man…. You know, we thought we had it bad when feminists turned themselves into pretzels trying to explain how they could still support Bill Clinton even though it was obvious from his behavior throughout his life that he was just another horndog who used women for his own pleasure, but at least back then you could see that his supporters knew they were lying to themselves. But the Obama fans are a different breed — they not only give no indication that they are turning everything they purport to believe upside down in order to support their candidate, I am not sure that even if they did realize it that they would think that there’s anything wrong with doing so.

This is for Ace, who is suffering from Post-Debate Syndrome and is apparently currently curled up in a fetal position under his desk because McCain failed to bore America to tears with the boring financial crisis during tonight’s debate. Trust me, the subject of finance bores most Americans beyond anything else; if we actually found things like subprime mortgage lending interesting, do you think we’d be in this mess in the first place? Even the thousands of people who can’t sell their homes for diddly, the thousands more who are in foreclosure, and the rest who disconnected the phone so the bank would quit calling just do not want to know. They don’t. And they’ll vote against the candidate who reminds them of it, and their current shaky financial situations, by doing more than mentioning it in passing. McCain obviously knows this. He knows people are just glad that the price of gas is going down.

Anyway, chill, dude.

Crap like his followers registering to vote in states they don’t live in? And they’re pretty blatant about it:

There’s a goddamned website facilitating this fraud — telling you who is willing to claim you live in their house, and which states you should be fraudulently signing up to vote in.

…which either means that the corruption has gone all the way to the FBI, or there’s a contingent of Obama fans who are sort of unclear on the concept of voter fraud. I’m hoping it’s the latter, and that they’ll soon be rounded up and given that lecture they missed because they skipped Civics class to smoke pot behind the gym. But it does show that at least some of the O-bots aren’t quite so sure that their guy is going to win. Winners don’t try to cook the books. As Jim Treacher says, this sort of behavior just stinks of desperation. I love the smell of desperation in the morning (and afternoon and evening); it smells like… victory, and not for the desperate ones.

Update: more voter fraud, state by state. Juicy. (Via.)

I wonder how some people figure out how to turn this internet thing on every day…. Kathy Shaidle’s latest Examiner column is about the now-infamous “Kill him!” yell at a McCain/Palin rally, and how reporters from two not-exactly-rightwing news organs (the Washington Post and the New Republic) both pointed out that the shout was probably aimed at unrepentant (indeed, proud of his ownself) not-ex-terrorist William Ayers, who Palin had just finished talking about — not Obama. So all the shrieks about how all McCain/Palin supporters are racists who want to lynch uppity black men who run for office are just as off-base as they ever were.

Now, at no point in Kathy’s article did she indicate approval of the shouty person. But that didn’t stop the very first Intrepid Reader, who minced in with

Oh good, it’s good to find out it’s okay to shout “kill him” and “off with his head” just as long as we shout it about the right person.

Right. That’s exactly what Kathy meant when she called it a “despicable outburst” and Michael Crowley of The New Republic meant when he said “That’s still an ugly thing to shout.” Approval. You know, I’m a product of Florida’s lame public school system and I know how to read before I say something, especially on the internet. Because once you hit that “send” button millions of people can see how smart you are.

You know that scene in the second part of the Doctor Who Season 3 finale where the Master, who has been elected Prime Minister of Britain, gasses his entire cabinet to death after calling them dirty little traitors for jumping parties to join his government? Yeah.

They are going to do an updated remake of V, the 80s science fiction series about reptilian aliens disguised as humans who take over the Earth. Back then it was a Nazi metaphor. Wanna guess what it’s going to be in the 00’s? You get three guesses and the first two don’t count.

Speaking of tv shows, I can guess what the show The Cleaner is about without ever watching an episode: an unpleasant, harsh-voiced harridan bitches at the long-suffering, Jesus-like hero for an hour. Yeah, I’m gonna watch that.

Can someone explain to me Hollywood’s obsession with Richard Nixon? Because I just don’t get it. He wasn’t very photogenic, certainly wasn’t sexy, and let’s face it, for a scandal Watergate was pretty darn mundane.

I’ve changed my mind — I can’t wait for Obama to win the presidency. You know why? Pure. Comedy. Gold. O! The gnashing of teeth and beating of breasts and wailing of– wails when his sycophantic followers realize that Utopia was all a lie, when they wake up in the morning to that Same Old Stuff that they were so certain ushering in the Man of More Melanin would erase from the land. They’ll still have to go to work. They’ll still have to pay taxes. There won’t be a unicorn with an iPod in every driveway. Free healthcare fairies won’t visit every home with a bag of gumdrops and free drugs. Straights won’t become gay. Gays won’t become… whatever the hell it is they want that they don’t have now. Christianity won’t be replaced by worship of Gaia. The oceans will not recede (which is a good thing, actually, because without oceans the planet dries up you morons). And so on and so forth. I can’t wait for the show to begin.

Oh — and this is going up. I have to figure out a way.

(Via Kathy Shaidle.)