The Daily Show does it right every time.
Tuesday
Obama crosses racial boundaries so deeply, he converts racists
So a canvasser goes to a woman's door in Washington, Pennsylvania. Knocks. Woman answers. Knocker asks who she's planning to vote for. She isn't sure, has to ask her husband who she's voting for. Husband is off in another room watching some game. Canvasser hears him yell back, "We're votin' for the n***er!"
Woman turns back to canvasser, and says brightly and matter of factly: "We're voting for the n***er."
Woman turns back to canvasser, and says brightly and matter of factly: "We're voting for the n***er."
Sunday
United we stand, divided we fall.
Fighting the Culture War in America
A cultural war is raging across our land-storming our values, assaulting our freedoms, killing our self-confidence in who we are and what we believe. (The speaker then asked those present who support Obama to raise their hand.)
I wonder how many of you are Obama supporters but chose not to raise your hand? How many of you considered revealing your conviction about a presidential candidate, but then thought better of it?
If so, you are a victim of the culture war being waged against traditional American freedom of beliefs and ideas. You have been assaulted and robbed of the courage of your convictions. Your pride in who you are and what you believe in has been ridiculed, ransacked, and plundered! It may be a war without a bullet or bloodshed, but with just as much liberty lost: You and your country are less free!
- By Charlton Heston
(Editor's note: I substituted "guns" with "Obama supporters" and "constitutional right" with "presidential candidate".)
A cultural war is raging across our land-storming our values, assaulting our freedoms, killing our self-confidence in who we are and what we believe. (The speaker then asked those present who support Obama to raise their hand.)
I wonder how many of you are Obama supporters but chose not to raise your hand? How many of you considered revealing your conviction about a presidential candidate, but then thought better of it?
If so, you are a victim of the culture war being waged against traditional American freedom of beliefs and ideas. You have been assaulted and robbed of the courage of your convictions. Your pride in who you are and what you believe in has been ridiculed, ransacked, and plundered! It may be a war without a bullet or bloodshed, but with just as much liberty lost: You and your country are less free!
- By Charlton Heston
(Editor's note: I substituted "guns" with "Obama supporters" and "constitutional right" with "presidential candidate".)
Friday
they come in threes
Damn, bad week for creative people.
Rest well, the three of you contributed so much greatness to this life. I thank you.
RIP:
Cornell Capa
wiki entryRobert Rauschenberg
Harvey Korman
Rest well, the three of you contributed so much greatness to this life. I thank you.
Monday
weekender
Friday morning I was startled to consciousness by my mother banging on my door and furtively shoving a soft grey diminutive thing into my hands. She rushed off with a terse "Take care of this! I'm late for work!".
I found myself holding an unconscious Eastern Screech Owl.
Thursday
i'm naked
Don't worry. It's not always going to be rambling bullshit from the crapper of my mind.
me: psst
me: psst
pssssssssttt
yu: aww
me: and so it begins
yu: lo, this crazy adventure called LIFF!
me: indheed
me: indheed
i expect feedback
thanks pal
yu: jew got it
me: israeli appreciate it
haw haw haw
yu: HAR
Sent at 3:26 PM on Thursday
a formal introduction
What an experiment I am about to undertake. There are endless lists of things I have wanted for so long to write and publish and generally shove out of the pit of my gullet into the world. They tumble around in my head day after night while I pick up dirty dishes, blow leaves off of the brick walkway in front of my cottage, snip flowers for my table in the garden.
"What the hell am I doing here." No longer a question. An expression of frustration.
The question used to be, "Where the hell am I?". I would find myself backwards in cabs speeding (in more ways than one) over the hills of San Francisco, and I would declare my question with a loud cigarette-caked voice. Everyone would cackle and feed me answers like drops of poison, all the funnier. I never had an answer. I could be everyplace at once. In my mind, I was omnipresent. At every party, in every fight, under every table, working every job, knowing everyone. I felt like a chameleon in a camouflage of social interaction. I could be the working-class diner waitress; smacking away at a wad of gum and pulling pens from the depths of her updo. I could be the club kid; dayglo raver or dark sparkling goth. I was the punk skate betty, the surfer chick, the dead tour girl with swirling skirts and bare shoulders. I was everywhere at once.
And now, I am back exactly where I began. The place of my birth, the Capitol of Backasswardnowhereshitsville. It certainly has its charms, and is nothing America's Most Boring Towns. However, it assumes the trappings of said burgs on occasion, and far too often. There is blight, ignorance, homelessness, racism, christian extremism, boredom, methamphetamine, and alcoholism in abundance. What saves this fair ville are its art museum, galleries, excellent library, bookstores, coffee houses, beautifully restored historic architecture, elegant lakes filled with waterfoul and lotus, fabulous new movie houses, and a formal garden filled with fruit and vegetables for the taking.
So, what am I doing here? Not to worry. I am gone again in 10 days.
"What the hell am I doing here." No longer a question. An expression of frustration.
The question used to be, "Where the hell am I?". I would find myself backwards in cabs speeding (in more ways than one) over the hills of San Francisco, and I would declare my question with a loud cigarette-caked voice. Everyone would cackle and feed me answers like drops of poison, all the funnier. I never had an answer. I could be everyplace at once. In my mind, I was omnipresent. At every party, in every fight, under every table, working every job, knowing everyone. I felt like a chameleon in a camouflage of social interaction. I could be the working-class diner waitress; smacking away at a wad of gum and pulling pens from the depths of her updo. I could be the club kid; dayglo raver or dark sparkling goth. I was the punk skate betty, the surfer chick, the dead tour girl with swirling skirts and bare shoulders. I was everywhere at once.
And now, I am back exactly where I began. The place of my birth, the Capitol of Backasswardnowhereshitsville. It certainly has its charms, and is nothing America's Most Boring Towns. However, it assumes the trappings of said burgs on occasion, and far too often. There is blight, ignorance, homelessness, racism, christian extremism, boredom, methamphetamine, and alcoholism in abundance. What saves this fair ville are its art museum, galleries, excellent library, bookstores, coffee houses, beautifully restored historic architecture, elegant lakes filled with waterfoul and lotus, fabulous new movie houses, and a formal garden filled with fruit and vegetables for the taking.
So, what am I doing here? Not to worry. I am gone again in 10 days.
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