- by adminonce upon a time I didn't give a damn about politics, especially american ones because what did I care, it wasn't my country anyway. but back in 2008 I happened to catch barack obama's acceptance speech for the democratic nomination and it struck something in me.
now I'm a pundit-listening, politics-reading, opinionated, little social democrat and damn proud of it.
I like my politicians thoughtful, forward-thinking, retrospective, honest, and sincere.
which means I don't like most of them.
except this guy, jimmy carter.
a while back I happened to find the crisis of confidence speech he gave to america in 1979 and if you ask me it's one of the last times a politician has been honest.
he admitted he'd made mistakes.
he said that america had made them, too.
he told the country they needed to change.
and the public tore him apart as a result.
after him came ronald reagan who imo was one of the worst things to ever happen to 'mericuh and the world but that's not what this post is about.
it's about the great, forward-thinking man that for a little while was in charge of america and is now a renowned human rights activist and peacekeeper.
he's what americans should look up to. a peanut farmer who became president and went on to do good in the world.
but they don't. they shit on him, and it's a damn shame. because that guy knew what the fuck he was doing and could have led that country to do even more great things.
so here's to you, jimmy. thanks for giving it a shot and trying to save america.
even though they didn't want to be saved.
you're a shining example of what a good man looks like.
- by admin
because sometimes you just have to live a little.
- by admin
which feels cray.
time seems to be slipping through my fingers lately
feels like it happens faster as I get older
and I'm only 24
one day I'll wake up and be 50
with my 100 cats
an older tyrone
and my bionic arm
(because it's the future, duh)
and wonder where the time went
but because it's the future I'll be able to plug into
my digital memory banks
and access this memory
of writing in this bloggy
'wow, I didn't know shit about shit'
damn my boobs were fine.
- by adminmy hair was done by the lovely @t3ebz and though it took all afternoon to do and then all evening to set it was 100% worth it. look at those locks.
costumes were rented and makeup was done and tyrone and john looked smashing. as always.
- by admin
Compelled by calamity's magnet
They loiter and stare as if the house
Burnt-out were theirs, or as if they thought
Some scandal might any minute ooze
From a smoke-choked closet into light;
No deaths, no prodigious injuries
Glut these hunters after an old meat,
Blood-spoor of the austere tragedies.
Mother Medea in a green smock
Moves humbly as any housewife through
Her ruined apartments, taking stock
Of charred shoes, the sodden upholstery:
Cheated of the pyre and the rack,
The crowd sucks her last tear and turns away.
- Sylvia Plath
- by admin
GregOttawa explains why Worf was paradoxically the last true Klingon:
Worf is so big on honor precisely because he grew up with human parents.
On Klingon worlds, they give lip service to honor but hypocrisy is the norm. Worf grew up reading about Klingons rather than actually meeting them. As a result, he was raised by the idea of a Klingon, rather than any one flawed example.
In this ironic crucible he emerges as a rare honorable Klingon, one shining example of an ideal long extinct, the last true Klingon.
It's fitting that he eventually kills both Gowron and Duras, the two great leaders of his time, because they are both hardly Klingons at all compared to him, being raised in the corrupt political culture of the time.
I love the Internet.
- by admin
baconfest winnipeg is in its second year but this was my first time going and it was worth it to eat stuff like what's pictured above, which is bannock (I think)
@cenquist was there with his sad/scary movember 'stache taking notes about everything we ate which I forgot to do because I was too busy eating, duh.
there were bacon cookies and bacon cakes and bacon hot dogs with bacon sprinkles and bacon cinnamon buns and bacon pitas and bacon ravioli with lobster and bacon ice cream and omg
Tyrone was looking extra-sharp in his fab new bowtie and stunning 'stache
there were my little ponies
whose bacony insides we devoured with bread and pickles and peppers, oh my
and which @kenquist used to stir his bacon-espresso-coffee creation which tasted good but got weird towards the end
and pose-offs in-between beers and bacon-infused drinks, of course
before rolling our poly selves home to lie around in a bacon-infused stupor for a few hours, as evidenced by Tyrone's lazy eye.
big thanks to @elishadacey for the ticket hook-up!
- by admin
I dragged myself out of my post-baconfest food stupor to share this with you
it's that cute and clever and awesome.
and you deserve to see it.
because I think you're great.
or maybe that's just the bacon talking.
- by adminwhich is brought to you by the bad mood I was in until a few minutes ago when I sat down in this nice, cozy restaurant and a cute girl filled my coffee cup (twice already!) and I breathed a sigh of relief because it's been a rough morning, sort of.
between waking up really late and not even remembering that I apparently turned off my alarm and rushing through a shower and tossing my hair up and smacking some makeup on my dingy morning face and rushing to class and falling down three times because it's so slippery and my morning class being a boring useless 'discussion for points' class in a freezing classroom and some dude almost cutting me while I waited in line for a table.
today has been a bit of a rough start and it's only 10am.
but it's only 10am and things should look up after this because I've ordered a baked eggs with bacon which comes with hash browns and rye toast and salsa and calories be damned because I've gone to the gym every day this week.
oh here it is:
how could my day not get better after this?
- by admin
it was by margaret atwood and it's in her book called 'wilderness tips' which I got for christmas last year and am only reading now because I'm busy, dammit. the story is called 'hairball' and it's gross and weird and I can't get it out of my head.
in the story the main character gets a huge ovarian cyst removed and it's got tons of red hair on it and little bones inside and some teeth poking out. it made me spend ten minutes google image searching cysts but never mind that. in the story she decides to keep it in a jar of formaldehyde on her mantle and through a series of events during the story she decides to send it to the wife of the guy she's been banging. she buys expensive chocolates and rolls the cyst in cocoa powder and wraps it up and mails it to the woman during a dinner party so she'll open it in front of her guests.
now I can't get the story or the image of a huge, hairy cyst out of my head. I've got a really morbid fascination with stuff like cysts and internal organs and stuff like that and it weirds me out that things can just decide to start growing inside of you for no good reason. and that they might have hair.
I think it's the hair that gets me. some gross ball of flesh or cartilage I can handle, but it's like when someone has a mole on their neck or their face and these huge hairs are protruding out of it and you're just like
pluck yr goddamn mole hair
and it's all you can stare at. that's how I was with these pictures on google image search of cysts being removed or in petrie dishes or on the side of someone's face. they all have hair on them.
when I was a kid I had a ganglion cyst on my right wrist and it used to bother me because even though it didn't have anything else growing out of it I was convinced people noticed it. I'd read somewhere that they were called "bible bumps" because you could smoosh out a ganglion cyst by slamming it with a huge book and back in the day the biggest book in a household was a bible.
turns out hitting yourself with any force isn't so easy, so I wound up pressing down using an old nancy drew hardcover book and I actually felt the ganglion cyst start to dissipate under my skin which was 100% hands-down the weirdest feeling ever. it was like dull electricity or sparkles or something silver-feeling dissipating inside of me.
recently someone I know got a cyst removed from their face, and in the short story I was reading the chick saved her cyst and I wonder if that's a thing. if you can save your cysts for keeps?
I don't think I could. I think if I brought my cyst home in a jar, especially if it had hair on it, I'd lose my mind staring at it trying to comprehend how it could grow inside me like that. so I guess it's a good thing I just smooshed my ganglion cyst when I was younger or I'd really have a complex.
this is by far the grossest thing I've written in a while.