My father, bless his backward heart, saw fit to forward me one of those annoying anti-Obama emails. This one has a subject line of "Stupid is as stupid does" but might as well be titled "Wake up, white people." It consists of a ridiculous list of Bad Things--from hijackings to assassinations--attributed to "Muslim male extremists between the ages of 17 and 40."

It then goes on to point out that:

"According to The Book of Revelations:

The Anti-Christ will be a man, in his 40s, of
MUSLIM descent , who will deceive the nations with persuasive language,
and have a MASSIVE Christ-like appeal....the prophecy says that people
will flock to him and he will promise false hope and world peace, and
when he is in power, he will destroy everything.


And Now:
For the award winning
Act of Stupidity
Of all times the People of America want to
elect, to the most Powerful position on the face of the Planet --
The Presidency of the United states of America

A Muslim
Male
Extremist
Between
the ages
of 17 and 40."


Okay. I'm going to type *reeeeeeal slow* for my relatives who probably won't get it anyway. For the hundred-thousandth time: Barak Obama is not Muslim.

And while I'm on the subject, the obsessive use of his middle name as an attempt to encourage negative associations also needs to stop. We don't shun everyone named Adolph or George--let's leave the Husseins of the world the fuck alone.

Every single candidate in this race has *plenty* of legitimately negative qualities and closet-skeletons we can criticize--fabrication and inflation are entirely unnecessary.

( (The entire email is behind this cut, if anyone cares to wade through it.) )

When perusing a Dr. Who/Torchwood fanfic archive, remember that "OFC" is not simply indicative of content--it is a warning, and should be listed in the "Do Not Want" filter alongside DeathFic and RPS.

What is it about the Whoniverse that attracts so many fucking Mary Sues? Upon reflection, I blame John Barrowman. Because, really--self-insertion is as close as a woman is going to get.

((And yes, yes, I meant to say that.))

The gentleman in question is, in his own words, "lactose incompetant."

In Shakespeare tonight, while discussing Antony & Cleopatra, the prof asked if anyone knew the advantage to using eunuchs as servants. Tongue firmly in cheek, I suggested that if you ever run out of them, you could always make more.

Apparently, despite over 30 years of teaching A&C, he'd never heard that before. (This is good. It's hard to say anything novel to a professor who has been teaching a particular subject for more years than I've had life.)

(Mildly NWS, depending on your environment.)

Far more attractive than Jesus in a mouldering cheese sandwich, we have... this.

It would seem that the end is near.

(Via dibsy.)

At first, I was sure that this was a deliberate attempt at humor. Sadly, I believe it's quite unintentional.

Update - 11 Dec 2007: After receiving a slew of messages from men with user names like "IHave8Inches" and "GottaBigOne" I feel compelled to mention that if your user name is in any way indicative of the (supposed) size of your penis, you probably have little else to offer. If your user name makes reference to penis size but is, in fact, a fantastic and subtle joke, please share the humor, as I have yet to encounter a penis-centric username that is anything but self-congratulatory.

EDIT: And why is it almost always 8 inches? Perhaps 7" is regarded as unimpressive but 9"+ is intimidating....

We're watching Tim Man. First impression after the first ten minutes....

This is cheese. Cheese beyond cheese. Oh, and D. G. (aka Dorothy) is a shameless Mary Sue.

Call it a "re-imagining," or whatever you choose, it's still a remake that would be greatly improved if Jeunet got his hands on it and Audrey Tautou was playing Dorothy. Or "D. G.," or whatever. Just bring on the flying monkeys, already!

Byebye, Painkiller Jane!

And yet, as happy as I am to see the end of that miserable PoS, I have to marvel in horror at this statement in the same article:

…the cancellation of “Jane” comes on the heels of the strong Friday premiere of another Sci Fi series based on a comic strip, “Flash Gordon,” which scored the channel's best series premiere numbers this year…

Good GOD but that show sucks. It sucks so hard I'm surprised there's any matter left in the entire fucking universe! Anyone who watched the trailers should have felt The Suck rolling off it in tremendous Hoovering waves!

The dialogue was cringeworthy. The acting? Appalling. Even the *plot* sucked, and it was *already done for them!* I can only hope that the poor fools who suffered through the premiere with me are equally unimpressed, because that crap just needs to g-o go. Vile.

Vile, vile, vile.

The man is dead.

He preached hate, and now he's dead.

I'm not going to even attempt to sound magnanimous, or reasonable or civilized. I don't care if this comes across as judgmental, or nasty or mean. Falwell was a ravening zealot whose primary contribution to society is a filthy legacy of intolerance that will live on far longer than it should. Would that he'd died sooner, so he wouldn't have had the opportunity to spread his poison this far.

The Irish say it far more emphatically than I ever could.

Mr. Falwell,

May you spend half an hour in Heaven before the Devil knows you're dead.

I'd compare my family to a pack of rabid wolverines, but they seem to lack the wolverines' good qualities.

The following snips are from a piece of vampire "fixion" hosted at Buzzle.com ("Intelligent Life on the Web") in the Science Fiction and Fantacy category.

"Fuck Christine, you better be okay." He whispered to himself, as he execrated to 90 miles per hour.

"FUCK!" Devlin swore quietly...

Her sadness hit him full in the face as he drove his dark purple Ferrari F1 50, and it was eating him alive.

If you're feeling a tad masochistic and decide to visit Buzzle, do not click on Escape Hatch unless you're sure you're up to it. (Accidentally selecting the Poetry subheading could result in serious brain injury.)

Dear DomlyDom of the Week:

If you're going to play the "I'm so fucking smart, bow down to my gigantic brain" game with me, don't. While it is certainly possible for one to "guard" their loins, I'm reasonably sure you're too stupid to have been intentionally cute, and therefore you probably meant to say "gird." The phrase is "gird your loins" you sad, silly person.

No Love--
Ivy

My throat is killing me. I'd think it was strep if I didn't have the other lovely symptoms of a sinus infection. I could hardly be in a worse mood for fuckwittage, let alone some ridiculous twit who thinks that pulling the "You're obviously just waiting for a RealDom(TM) to teach you how to show respect--Respect ME, Worthless Bitch!" routine is a good idea. (And that dropping some big words in his cookie-cutter-predictable I'M YOUR MASTER NOW email will make me go all gooey.)

It *did* give me a laugh, but that made my throat hurt so I had to have a go at the guy. Which ended up making me feel guilty, as was not very sporting. (More like shooting fish in a barrel, really.) So I've blocked Captain Douchenozzle and had done with it.

Feh. I hate it when my brain is desperately seeking Something Engaging To Do but my body has other plans. (My eyes feel like they're burning when I read or watch a monitor/TV for too long.)

Stopped at Best Buy today and was confronted by a fucking *tent city* in the parking lot. Two major network news vans were there as well, and despite the strong winds the air was thick with the funk of unwashed geek. A couple of sizable security guards were wandering the edges of the makeshift community, looking grumpy and a bit green around the gills.

Why all the fuss, you ask?

This.

They're releasing it on Friday.

Sometimes, I don't wonder why the aliens have let us live this long. We're WAY funnier than Sea Monkeys.

To which I say, "There was a Crow III? Wow. It must have gone Direct To Video, too."

Stupid SciFi Channel Movie quote of the day:

Dennis Hopper (aka the pseudo-jive talkin', desperately pimpesque El Nino...) "So what's it gonna be? Ya wanna be Satan, or what?" Followed by: "I now pronounce you Devil and his Shorty."

Also (dare I say "starring?") David Boreanaz, of Angel fame. "Don't fret, fraulein, the Apocalypse is gonna make a hell of a honeymoon."

Once in the Crow makeup, Eddie Furlong looks FAR too like Helena Bonham Carter for comfort. And his quote of the film? "Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore,' motherfucker."

Methinks that SOMEbody didn't read the script.

...

Make that a whoooooole lotta somebodys.

SciFi Channel trash-flick: The Fallen Ones.

Fallen angel: "God hates incest."

If I may quote Genesis (20:11-12): And Abraham said, Because I thought, Surely the fear of God is not in this place; and they will slay me for my wife's sake. And yet indeed she is my sister; she is the daughter of my father, but not the daughter of my mother; and she became my wife.

Please note that God didn't smite good ol' Abraham, or rain fire and brimstone down upon him. Nope--Abraham remained a teacher's pet for all his days.

And what about Lot's daughters, getting their father drunk and sleeping with him in order to continue the family bloodline? (This is after He let loose on Sodom and Gomorrah, during which Lot's wife made the mistake of sentimentality and ended up a pillar of salt.) God didn't have anything to say about *that,* either.

So yeah--Our Lord was pretty soft on incest for a while. Apparently, He changed His mind somewhere along the line, probably after a long, sleepless night on the throne brought on by making the unfortunate decision to send Cherubiel for take-outs from both Harry's House of Haggis and Everything Prunes.

(That's enough to make even a deity grumpy, and Our Hero wasn't exactly a softie in Old Testament times.)

Alienator.

Jan-Michael Vincent is in this movie in the same way that quinine is in tonic water.

Okay. I really should add this one to my fanfic-fuckups Just Don't Do This list, but I see it in so many other settings that I'm giving it a post of its own.

If you loathe something, you are disgusted and repulsed by it. If you are loath to admit something, you are reluctant or unwilling to admit it. For example, you may be loath to admit that you loathe someone, or that you do not know the difference between loath and loathe.

(The above is quite like the breath/breathe situation as far as pronunciation goes. Loath rhymes with both. It's shorter and sharper than loathe. Loathe rhymes with clothe. It's more languorous and ends less sharply.)

And while I'm at it, one drinks ESpresso--not expresso. While there may be something intuitively appealing about the "ex" version, (as it reminds one that the vicious stuff is like a hit of cheap crank) it's really quite incorrect. And while you're at it, leave the X out of the pronunciation, as well. If I hear anyone order an expresso, I am likely to have a Falling Down moment.

And while we're on the subject of pronunciation, let's take a moment to appreciate the beauty and grace that is the word picture. Let's just *look* at it. Picture. Pic-ture. Note the fluid perfection of the way the TWO syllables blend so elegantly. TWO syllables. It's picture--not pic-it-ure. And, as with espresso/EXpresso before it, one cannot help but notice the complete and total absence of an X in this charming little word. So please, for the love of god, don't ask, "Oh, say, could you take our piXture?" It's the equivalent of Shrub belching out "New-cue-lar" during the 2005 SotU. "New-cue-lar," he said. And we all know it's nuclear, right? Of course it is.

And as long as we're asking questions, we're ASKing--not aXing. What the hell is up with this fucking floating X, anyway? Is it just so uncommon in everyday speech and taking up so much valuable space in our alphabet that we want to get our money's worth?

This X must be stopped.

Oh, and don't give me the "regionalism" or, "It's an accent," response to the new-cue-lar/nuclear thing. Look at the word. There's NO SECOND "U" in it. It's just not there.

Same goes for the phantom X. If there is no fucking X, there IS NO FUCKING X. Do not pronounce the nonexistent X.

* * *

I am now going outside to see if there is a sheep in my yard. I keep hearing these sheepish noises... ;-)

re: icon choice
It's a quote from Black Books. In that particular scene, Bernard was trying to antagonize a group of skinheads into beating him up.

While I am not *seeking* a beating, I'm probably courting one. So be it.

17 LJ communities and 416 users list "masterbating" as an interest.

As cow-orker traits go, *not* stinking up the place is quite desirable and can make up for any number of less desirable traits.

"So what if Larry has a large collection of disturbing skin conditions and likes to lick things to make them 'his'? At least he doesn't smell like low tide."