What ever happened to taking responsibility for that which you have spawned?
The Tear-Jerking Tale Of The Week Award goes to this story, about a boy named Deamonte who had the misfortune to be born to the worst excuse for a mother ever, and subsequently died of a brain infection caused by an abscessed tooth.
That isn't how the article is written, of course. It's supposed to be news, but it reads more like a weepy editorial, or a puff piece endorsement of socialized medicine.
Here are some facts, quoted directly from the article.
The Driver children have never received routine dental attention, said their mother, Alyce Driver.
When Deamonte got sick, his mother had not realized that his tooth had been bothering him.
DaShawn {that's a younger brother} saw a dentist a couple of years ago, but the dentist discontinued the treatments, she said, after the boy squirmed too much in the chair. Then the family went through a crisis and spent some time in an Adelphi homeless shelter. From there, three of Driver's sons went to stay with their grandparents in a two-bedroom mobile home in Clinton.
But she had to cancel after learning Jan. 8 that the children had lost their Medicaid coverage a month earlier. She suspects that the paperwork to confirm their eligibility was mailed to the shelter in Adelphi, where they no longer live.
After more than two weeks of care at Children's Hospital, the Clinton seventh-grader began undergoing six weeks of additional medical treatment as well as physical and occupational therapy at another hospital.
So, let's summarize:
Alyce Driver had five sons.
She never saw to it that they received dental care.
She signed them up for "free" dental care eventually.
The "free" coverage lapsed because she did not keep a current address on file with the state.
One of her sons died because she neglected his oral health for so long that the infection from an abscessed tooth spread to his brain and killed him.
She was unaware that his tooth was bothering him until it was far too late.
The hospital-to-morgue process took about seven weeks, and was taxpayer-funded.
Sorry, folks, but there's no way to spin this one. The author of the story tried, but it didn't work. What we have here is a clear case of child neglect. It's not the government's fault. Deamonte Driver would be alive today if his mother wasn't such a fuck-awful excuse for a parent.
Does that sound harsh? Well, it's meant to. I thought, at least in civilized countries, that you humans were past the point where you had to have a huge hoard of kids in case some of them died. I also thought you were past the point where parents were too fucking stupid to avail themselves of all the "free" shit that they can get in order to take care of said hoards.
Really, Alyce, shut the fuck up with the excuses about how HAAAAARD it was to find a dentist who accepted your "free" dental coverage. Because frankly, I don't give a shit. You (and a few milliliters of jizz) made those kids. It is YOUR JOB to do whatever it takes to care for them, even if that means dealing with bureaucracies and long bus rides.
Oh, but they weren't even all in your custody, were they? That three of them were living elsewhere, and you only had to fret about two of them, makes your slothfulness when it comes to your kids even more inexcusable.
And where the hell is the father (or fathers) in all this? I realize the nuclear family is passé. But FUCK. That's a lot of kids without fathers for one entitlement-minded mother to be expecting the government to take care of.
Anyway, Alyce, here's some life advice. Find a hobby besides fucking and making babies. A really nifty one might be teaching your kids about brushing their teeth and using dental floss.
Also, get off your dead ass and take the little bastards to the dentist. It takes many months, or even years, for an abscessed tooth to spread to the brain. That gives you a nice window to not kill any more of your sons.
Finally, if you do decide to have more children, do them a favor and put them up for adoption. They'll thank you for it.
Of course, if there was any justice in the world, this would all be moot, because Social Services would take Ms. Driver's remaining sons away from her before she neglects them to death like she did Deamonte. But that's not going to happen. Cuz, ya know, it's the government's fault, and ol' Alyce has already suffered enough.
Bet she hasn't suffered half as much as the son she killed, though.
.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Take A Roll On The Wild Side
The Supreme Court just heard a VEEEEERY interesting case.
--Victor Harris zoomed at 80 to 90 miles per hour in his Cadillac covering nearly nine miles in six minutes with a deputy sheriff hot on his tail. But when the chase ended in a violent crash that left the 19-year-old driver a quadriplegic, the roles reversed.
Now it is the deputy sheriff being pursued – by lawyers who say the officer violated the teen driver's constitutional rights when he forced the speeding Cadillac off the road.
Tuesday, Mr. Harris's case arrives at the US Supreme Court where the justices must decide whether drivers who speed and disobey police commands to pull over nonetheless are constitutionally protected against having their cars rammed by law-enforcement officials in high-speed chases. The Fourth Amendment prohibits police from using unreasonable tactics during arrests.--
First, let me say that it sucks this dude ended up paralyzed. That's gotta be an awful way to live. Can't even take a piss without shoving a catheter up your pecker. It doesn't get any less dignified than that.
That being said, it's not the officer's fault the poor bastard rolls instead of walking. No one made him put the pedal to the metal and try to outrun the cops, at night when the roads were wet. (Mmmmmmmmmm... wet.)
Ahem. As I was saying, the decision to not stop was made by Mr. Harris. The reason he gave was that his license was suspended, and he didn't want to go to jail. Then somewhere along the way, he decided he would stop, but not until he got home, because he didn't want his car impounded.
In other words, the decisions he made that night were all about him. Therefore he really oughtn't to be suing because things went caddy-whumpus.
This is not to say that you humans should stop doing stupid things. Making mistakes is how you learn, and how you grow. Wheelchair Boy was young, dumb, full of piss and vinegar, and ABSOLUTELY POSITIVE that he was invincible. That's not unlike many other nineteen year olds. It's kind of a wonder that so many of you get to adulthood with all your digits and limbs intact and no brain damage.
Unfortunately, not everyone is so lucky, and this guy was one of those less-than-fortunate ones. Yes, it's sad. But again, no one made him drive in excess of ninety miles an hour in the dark on damp pavement. He chose to do that all by his little ol' self.
Which is why I think the Supremes are brain damaged if they find that excessive force was used. This dude passed when the center line was yellow double solid a few times, and ran a few red lights to boot. Thus, the cops were screwed whether they tried to stop him or not.
If he'd killed somebody during his little joy-ride, the public would scream bloody murder, and the police would get sued. They attempted to stop him, it went wrong, and they get sued. Can't win for trying, huh?
Don't get me wrong. I'm no fan of cops in general. Honestly, they scare me, because so many of them are people of very average intelligence, who went into police work because it was the only way someone like them could achieve any real power.
But they've got a suck-awful job. And it's also a job where their very lives depend on making split-second judgement calls. You - and the justice system - can't look back at those hair-raising moments with the benefit of hind-sight and say, "Well, they should have done THIS instead."
Actually, you can. It would just be wrong.
So if the Supremes decide to say that bumping the ass end of ol' Victor's speeding Cadillac in an effort to make him stop was inappropriate, well, that would be wrong too. And it would also unleash a torrent of other would-be Victors on the road, knowing that all they had to do to ditch the cops is accelerate to an unsafe speed.
And that would be bad on a number of levels. I don't think I'd ever go for a ride with my people again. I'd be too scared.
.
--Victor Harris zoomed at 80 to 90 miles per hour in his Cadillac covering nearly nine miles in six minutes with a deputy sheriff hot on his tail. But when the chase ended in a violent crash that left the 19-year-old driver a quadriplegic, the roles reversed.
Now it is the deputy sheriff being pursued – by lawyers who say the officer violated the teen driver's constitutional rights when he forced the speeding Cadillac off the road.
Tuesday, Mr. Harris's case arrives at the US Supreme Court where the justices must decide whether drivers who speed and disobey police commands to pull over nonetheless are constitutionally protected against having their cars rammed by law-enforcement officials in high-speed chases. The Fourth Amendment prohibits police from using unreasonable tactics during arrests.--
First, let me say that it sucks this dude ended up paralyzed. That's gotta be an awful way to live. Can't even take a piss without shoving a catheter up your pecker. It doesn't get any less dignified than that.
That being said, it's not the officer's fault the poor bastard rolls instead of walking. No one made him put the pedal to the metal and try to outrun the cops, at night when the roads were wet. (Mmmmmmmmmm... wet.)
Ahem. As I was saying, the decision to not stop was made by Mr. Harris. The reason he gave was that his license was suspended, and he didn't want to go to jail. Then somewhere along the way, he decided he would stop, but not until he got home, because he didn't want his car impounded.
In other words, the decisions he made that night were all about him. Therefore he really oughtn't to be suing because things went caddy-whumpus.
This is not to say that you humans should stop doing stupid things. Making mistakes is how you learn, and how you grow. Wheelchair Boy was young, dumb, full of piss and vinegar, and ABSOLUTELY POSITIVE that he was invincible. That's not unlike many other nineteen year olds. It's kind of a wonder that so many of you get to adulthood with all your digits and limbs intact and no brain damage.
Unfortunately, not everyone is so lucky, and this guy was one of those less-than-fortunate ones. Yes, it's sad. But again, no one made him drive in excess of ninety miles an hour in the dark on damp pavement. He chose to do that all by his little ol' self.
Which is why I think the Supremes are brain damaged if they find that excessive force was used. This dude passed when the center line was yellow double solid a few times, and ran a few red lights to boot. Thus, the cops were screwed whether they tried to stop him or not.
If he'd killed somebody during his little joy-ride, the public would scream bloody murder, and the police would get sued. They attempted to stop him, it went wrong, and they get sued. Can't win for trying, huh?
Don't get me wrong. I'm no fan of cops in general. Honestly, they scare me, because so many of them are people of very average intelligence, who went into police work because it was the only way someone like them could achieve any real power.
But they've got a suck-awful job. And it's also a job where their very lives depend on making split-second judgement calls. You - and the justice system - can't look back at those hair-raising moments with the benefit of hind-sight and say, "Well, they should have done THIS instead."
Actually, you can. It would just be wrong.
So if the Supremes decide to say that bumping the ass end of ol' Victor's speeding Cadillac in an effort to make him stop was inappropriate, well, that would be wrong too. And it would also unleash a torrent of other would-be Victors on the road, knowing that all they had to do to ditch the cops is accelerate to an unsafe speed.
And that would be bad on a number of levels. I don't think I'd ever go for a ride with my people again. I'd be too scared.
.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Monday Monkey-Spankings
Today's "What in the FUCK?!?!" moment is brought to you by this story, telling us that high school students are getting stupider, but at least their grades are improving.
--Two federal reports out Thursday offer conflicting messages about how well high-schoolers are doing academically.
One showed that seniors did poorly on national math and reading tests.
The other -- a review of high school transcripts from 2005 graduates -- showed students earning more credits, taking more challenging courses and getting better grades.--
Well, well, well. Now why does that not surprise me? With all of these efforts to shore up the self-esteem of the little bastards, it's not exactly a shock that while they appear to be learning more in school, their IQs are falling like Skylab.
I continue to fear for the survival of your species.
Next we have an unfortunate accident involving chicken. As in, 60,000 pounds of it all over the road.
It's apparently the second time this month that a truck full of chicken parts has scattered its load in that same location. I suspect fowl play.
In other animal-related news (this time the kind of animal who's not dead), there's a beaver in the Bronx. (No, not that kind of beaver, you fucking perverts.)
--Beavers grace New York City's official seal. But the industrious rodents have not been seen in the flesh here for as many as 200 years -- until this week.
Biologists videotaped a beaver swimming up the Bronx River on Wednesday. Its twig-and-mud lodge had been spotted earlier on the river bank, but the tape confirmed the presence of the animal itself.--
Take it from a moose who's been living around humans his whole life, little beaver. They're a pain in the ass, but basically good-hearted creatures. So find yourself a girl beaver (a beaver beaver, even), and enjoy your stay in New York.
This little weep-fest is an opinion piece by George F. Will about Down Syndrome. The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists has revised its recommendations regarding screening for the disease. They used to say women over thirty-five. Now they're saying doctors should offer the testing to all pregnant women.
What's changed? Nothing, really, except the screening has become simpler, less expensive, and more widely available. So the snatch quacks figure a woman would rather know than not know.
Mr. Will is alarmed because about 85% of the parents who receive a diagnosis of Down Syndrome choose abortion. He is afraid the disorder will disappear if the rate of pre-natal diagnosis approaches 100%.
Certainly, if nearly all pregnant women choose to have the screening, and the abortion rate of 85% holds, the number of Down Syndrome babies born in this country every year will fall drastically, to perhaps even as low as five hundred. George thinks that would be sad, because he knows a very high-functioning Down syndrome guy named Jon.
From what I can tell, he trots "Jon" out every time he writes about screening for birth defects. Jon loves sports, has his own apartment, knows how to ride the bus, works three days a week, and is "sweet." That's all good and well, but for every Jon, there's a bunch of much lower-functioning Down syndrome folks who won't ever do any of those things, even the "being sweet" part.
And it's a crap-shoot. You don't know if you're getting Corky or total gorky until the kid is a few years old. Chiding parents who don't want to roll those dice is mean-spirited and unfair. Only the parents involved know what they and the rest of their family can handle.
So go ahead and judge the people who have genetic screening, and those who abort defective fetuses, George. They're too busy making tough choices to listen to boneheads like you.
Today's "Well THAT sure didn't turn out like we thought it would" story is about a sorority whose national leadership kicked out all the women that were fat, ugly, and/or weird.
--When a psychology professor at DePauw University here surveyed students, they described one sorority as a group of “daddy’s little princesses” and another as “offbeat hippies.” The sisters of Delta Zeta were seen as “socially awkward.”
Worried that a negative stereotype of the sorority was contributing to a decline in membership that had left its Greek-columned house here half empty, Delta Zeta’s national officers interviewed 35 DePauw members in November, quizzing them about their dedication to recruitment. They judged 23 of the women insufficiently committed and later told them to vacate the sorority house.
The 23 members included every woman who was overweight. They also included the only black, Korean and Vietnamese members. The dozen students allowed to stay were slender and popular with fraternity men — conventionally pretty women the sorority hoped could attract new recruits. Six of the 12 were so infuriated they quit.--
Oops.
It's a tough problem. The Greek system cannot survive without attracting new members, and no one is going to be tripping over themselves to join the "socially awkward" sorority. If the house was only half full, the chicks on the national level had to do SOMETHING.
Maybe they should have just thrown in the towel, and revoked that chapter's charter. But I'm sure they figured that as long as there was a core group of the "right" kind of gals, those that remained could oversee the rebuilding.
I'm also sure they didn't count on half of that group quitting.
Ah, well. It's nice to know that in the 21st century, at least half of the sorority babes are still incredibly shallow. Now let's just hope that they're easy too, and that they give good head.
Our final story is pure fun. (We need some of that after the stupid students, spilled chicken, and retards.) There's this dude who goes around breaking strange records, and his latest was the squat thrust record. (I find the phrase "squat thrust" to be highly arousing.)
Ahem. Anyway, what's really interesting about the record is that he shattered the old one, and he did it on the back of an elephant.
--New Yorker Ashrita Furman looked around for a record he could break, and settled on doing the most squat thrusts in one minute. Then he decided on a place -- the back of an elephant in northern Thailand.
He achieved both goals Thursday as he climbed onto a platform on the back of an obliging pachyderm in blazing heat and powered through 40 of the vigorous kicks in a minute. The previous squat thrust record -- achieved on level ground in Britain without an elephant in sight -- was 30.--
Ashrita, my hat is off to you. I don't think I could do that many squat thrusts in a week, let alone squat thrust my way to victory on an elephant. You've got style, dude.
.
--Two federal reports out Thursday offer conflicting messages about how well high-schoolers are doing academically.
One showed that seniors did poorly on national math and reading tests.
The other -- a review of high school transcripts from 2005 graduates -- showed students earning more credits, taking more challenging courses and getting better grades.--
Well, well, well. Now why does that not surprise me? With all of these efforts to shore up the self-esteem of the little bastards, it's not exactly a shock that while they appear to be learning more in school, their IQs are falling like Skylab.
I continue to fear for the survival of your species.
Next we have an unfortunate accident involving chicken. As in, 60,000 pounds of it all over the road.
It's apparently the second time this month that a truck full of chicken parts has scattered its load in that same location. I suspect fowl play.
In other animal-related news (this time the kind of animal who's not dead), there's a beaver in the Bronx. (No, not that kind of beaver, you fucking perverts.)
--Beavers grace New York City's official seal. But the industrious rodents have not been seen in the flesh here for as many as 200 years -- until this week.
Biologists videotaped a beaver swimming up the Bronx River on Wednesday. Its twig-and-mud lodge had been spotted earlier on the river bank, but the tape confirmed the presence of the animal itself.--
Take it from a moose who's been living around humans his whole life, little beaver. They're a pain in the ass, but basically good-hearted creatures. So find yourself a girl beaver (a beaver beaver, even), and enjoy your stay in New York.
This little weep-fest is an opinion piece by George F. Will about Down Syndrome. The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists has revised its recommendations regarding screening for the disease. They used to say women over thirty-five. Now they're saying doctors should offer the testing to all pregnant women.
What's changed? Nothing, really, except the screening has become simpler, less expensive, and more widely available. So the snatch quacks figure a woman would rather know than not know.
Mr. Will is alarmed because about 85% of the parents who receive a diagnosis of Down Syndrome choose abortion. He is afraid the disorder will disappear if the rate of pre-natal diagnosis approaches 100%.
Certainly, if nearly all pregnant women choose to have the screening, and the abortion rate of 85% holds, the number of Down Syndrome babies born in this country every year will fall drastically, to perhaps even as low as five hundred. George thinks that would be sad, because he knows a very high-functioning Down syndrome guy named Jon.
From what I can tell, he trots "Jon" out every time he writes about screening for birth defects. Jon loves sports, has his own apartment, knows how to ride the bus, works three days a week, and is "sweet." That's all good and well, but for every Jon, there's a bunch of much lower-functioning Down syndrome folks who won't ever do any of those things, even the "being sweet" part.
And it's a crap-shoot. You don't know if you're getting Corky or total gorky until the kid is a few years old. Chiding parents who don't want to roll those dice is mean-spirited and unfair. Only the parents involved know what they and the rest of their family can handle.
So go ahead and judge the people who have genetic screening, and those who abort defective fetuses, George. They're too busy making tough choices to listen to boneheads like you.
Today's "Well THAT sure didn't turn out like we thought it would" story is about a sorority whose national leadership kicked out all the women that were fat, ugly, and/or weird.
--When a psychology professor at DePauw University here surveyed students, they described one sorority as a group of “daddy’s little princesses” and another as “offbeat hippies.” The sisters of Delta Zeta were seen as “socially awkward.”
Worried that a negative stereotype of the sorority was contributing to a decline in membership that had left its Greek-columned house here half empty, Delta Zeta’s national officers interviewed 35 DePauw members in November, quizzing them about their dedication to recruitment. They judged 23 of the women insufficiently committed and later told them to vacate the sorority house.
The 23 members included every woman who was overweight. They also included the only black, Korean and Vietnamese members. The dozen students allowed to stay were slender and popular with fraternity men — conventionally pretty women the sorority hoped could attract new recruits. Six of the 12 were so infuriated they quit.--
Oops.
It's a tough problem. The Greek system cannot survive without attracting new members, and no one is going to be tripping over themselves to join the "socially awkward" sorority. If the house was only half full, the chicks on the national level had to do SOMETHING.
Maybe they should have just thrown in the towel, and revoked that chapter's charter. But I'm sure they figured that as long as there was a core group of the "right" kind of gals, those that remained could oversee the rebuilding.
I'm also sure they didn't count on half of that group quitting.
Ah, well. It's nice to know that in the 21st century, at least half of the sorority babes are still incredibly shallow. Now let's just hope that they're easy too, and that they give good head.
Our final story is pure fun. (We need some of that after the stupid students, spilled chicken, and retards.) There's this dude who goes around breaking strange records, and his latest was the squat thrust record. (I find the phrase "squat thrust" to be highly arousing.)
Ahem. Anyway, what's really interesting about the record is that he shattered the old one, and he did it on the back of an elephant.
--New Yorker Ashrita Furman looked around for a record he could break, and settled on doing the most squat thrusts in one minute. Then he decided on a place -- the back of an elephant in northern Thailand.
He achieved both goals Thursday as he climbed onto a platform on the back of an obliging pachyderm in blazing heat and powered through 40 of the vigorous kicks in a minute. The previous squat thrust record -- achieved on level ground in Britain without an elephant in sight -- was 30.--
Ashrita, my hat is off to you. I don't think I could do that many squat thrusts in a week, let alone squat thrust my way to victory on an elephant. You've got style, dude.
.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
I Love That Joe Rogan Guy
He's the one that's at war with Carlos Mencia.
I feel bad that I'd never heard of him until recently, but the truth is, I lead a sheltered life, that mostly consists of masturbating while I fantasize about licking single-malt Scotch off the nipples of big-breasted hookers. So it's not surprising that he's new to me.
Here's his website, and here's his MySpace. His blog tells a very sad story.
Joe Rogan is something of a crusader. He outs comedians that steal other people's work. One of his more high-profile targets is Carlos Mencia. I wasn't terribly familiar with him, either, so I did some research on the internet. The consensus seemed to be, unless Mencia's saying "Dee Dee Dee," he stole it.
Rogan and Mencia, whose real name apparently is Ned Holness (which sounds like some kind of Ukrainian bakery item), had a big smack-down a few weeks ago. Even though he's on the side of the angels, Mr. Rogan has paid a huge price for taking a stand.
According to his blog, his long-standing gig at the Comedy Store in Los Angeles has been cancelled. His agent and he have come to a parting of the ways. (I liked the part where the agent offered him the opportunity to make it right by apologizing to Carlos. That could truly have been a great phone call. "Hey there, Carlos. I'm sorry. Really. I mean it. I'm sorry you're a pathetic piece of shit.")
I don't understand folks who take someone else's work and pass it off as their own. What drives it? A desire for recognition, money, success? And if that's the reason, is it worth it? How do people people like that feel, late at night, when they can't sleep because their brain is swirling with thoughts about how they cheated to get there?
I dunno. My big-titted secretary said she's had people swipe her stuff and claim authorship. Nothing important, just things she wrote for the internet. She says the most common reason people give her when she busts them is, "Because I wish I had written it."
Well DUH. There IS a path to writing good shit that doesn't involve theft. A romance novelist named Cindy Dees offers the following advice: "ABC! Apply Butt to Chair! The only way to learn how to write or how to write better is to do it."
(Nah, she's not the first person to come up with that nugget of wisdom. But my big-titted secretary insisted I use that example because her hunky Air Force friend Steve knows Ms. Dees. Gotta keep the ladies happy, right?)
Point being, if you're that sad sack staring at the ceiling wondering why you suck at your craft, why other people can do it and you can't, well, buck up, little camper. The answer to your suckatrociousness is within the reach of your grubby dick-beaters. Set your ass down at the computer with an Arrogant Bastard Ale, and don't get up until you've done something interesting and original.
Yes, Carlos Ned Mencia-Holness, I am talking to YOU.
Getting back on topic, it just seems like in other "creative" fields, if you steal other people's shit, the hammer comes down hard on you. Look at that Indian chick (Patel Motel Indian, not Lun-Can-Sur Smoke Shop Indian), Kaavya Viswanathan, who wrote that "brilliant coming of age novel."
It was called How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life. It should have been called How I Kiped From Megan McCafferty, Salman Rushdie, and Everyone In Between.
So what happened when the campus paper at Harvard, the Crimson, outed her for stealing other people's work? Her publisher yanked the book out of stores and cancelled her contract for a second novel, plus her movie deal also went bye-bye. And I somehow doubt she'll ever be able to find a publisher for her work again.
Now THAT is how theft of intellectual property should be dealt with.
I get that there are subtleties in stand-up comedy regarding "borrowing" that don't exist in the written word. But none of those subtleties appear to be part of the Mencia saga. There's plenty of evidence that he just unabashedly light-fingers other peoples' material.
Yes, he flatly denies it. But to quote Agent Mulder, "The truth is out there." We live in an electronic age. So dude, you're busted. Time to do the right thing. Either develop your own funny stuff, or if you can't, buy it from people who can.
I guess there's a third option. Keep doing what you're doing, use your real last name, and change your first name to Ass.
Anyway, three cheers for Joe Rogan, crusader, hero, and damn funny guy. You've got a fan for life, dude.
.
I feel bad that I'd never heard of him until recently, but the truth is, I lead a sheltered life, that mostly consists of masturbating while I fantasize about licking single-malt Scotch off the nipples of big-breasted hookers. So it's not surprising that he's new to me.
Here's his website, and here's his MySpace. His blog tells a very sad story.
Joe Rogan is something of a crusader. He outs comedians that steal other people's work. One of his more high-profile targets is Carlos Mencia. I wasn't terribly familiar with him, either, so I did some research on the internet. The consensus seemed to be, unless Mencia's saying "Dee Dee Dee," he stole it.
Rogan and Mencia, whose real name apparently is Ned Holness (which sounds like some kind of Ukrainian bakery item), had a big smack-down a few weeks ago. Even though he's on the side of the angels, Mr. Rogan has paid a huge price for taking a stand.
According to his blog, his long-standing gig at the Comedy Store in Los Angeles has been cancelled. His agent and he have come to a parting of the ways. (I liked the part where the agent offered him the opportunity to make it right by apologizing to Carlos. That could truly have been a great phone call. "Hey there, Carlos. I'm sorry. Really. I mean it. I'm sorry you're a pathetic piece of shit.")
I don't understand folks who take someone else's work and pass it off as their own. What drives it? A desire for recognition, money, success? And if that's the reason, is it worth it? How do people people like that feel, late at night, when they can't sleep because their brain is swirling with thoughts about how they cheated to get there?
I dunno. My big-titted secretary said she's had people swipe her stuff and claim authorship. Nothing important, just things she wrote for the internet. She says the most common reason people give her when she busts them is, "Because I wish I had written it."
Well DUH. There IS a path to writing good shit that doesn't involve theft. A romance novelist named Cindy Dees offers the following advice: "ABC! Apply Butt to Chair! The only way to learn how to write or how to write better is to do it."
(Nah, she's not the first person to come up with that nugget of wisdom. But my big-titted secretary insisted I use that example because her hunky Air Force friend Steve knows Ms. Dees. Gotta keep the ladies happy, right?)
Point being, if you're that sad sack staring at the ceiling wondering why you suck at your craft, why other people can do it and you can't, well, buck up, little camper. The answer to your suckatrociousness is within the reach of your grubby dick-beaters. Set your ass down at the computer with an Arrogant Bastard Ale, and don't get up until you've done something interesting and original.
Yes, Carlos Ned Mencia-Holness, I am talking to YOU.
Getting back on topic, it just seems like in other "creative" fields, if you steal other people's shit, the hammer comes down hard on you. Look at that Indian chick (Patel Motel Indian, not Lun-Can-Sur Smoke Shop Indian), Kaavya Viswanathan, who wrote that "brilliant coming of age novel."
It was called How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life. It should have been called How I Kiped From Megan McCafferty, Salman Rushdie, and Everyone In Between.
So what happened when the campus paper at Harvard, the Crimson, outed her for stealing other people's work? Her publisher yanked the book out of stores and cancelled her contract for a second novel, plus her movie deal also went bye-bye. And I somehow doubt she'll ever be able to find a publisher for her work again.
Now THAT is how theft of intellectual property should be dealt with.
I get that there are subtleties in stand-up comedy regarding "borrowing" that don't exist in the written word. But none of those subtleties appear to be part of the Mencia saga. There's plenty of evidence that he just unabashedly light-fingers other peoples' material.
Yes, he flatly denies it. But to quote Agent Mulder, "The truth is out there." We live in an electronic age. So dude, you're busted. Time to do the right thing. Either develop your own funny stuff, or if you can't, buy it from people who can.
I guess there's a third option. Keep doing what you're doing, use your real last name, and change your first name to Ass.
Anyway, three cheers for Joe Rogan, crusader, hero, and damn funny guy. You've got a fan for life, dude.
.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
The N-Word Conference
What in the fuck? A four day conference about the word "nigger"?
--With a debate swirling nationwide over the n-word, a historically black college in Alabama has set aside four days to discuss the racial slur.
Participants at the conference, which began Thursday and ends Sunday, discussed topics ranging from the origins of the epithet to whether juggling a few letters makes it socially acceptable at the "N" Surrection Conference at Stillman College.
Organizers said the goal of the event is to challenge the use of the n-word "through the use of intelligent dialogue and a thorough examination of black history."--
Um, okay. How exactly is this going to go?
Host: "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to our conference about the word nigger."
Participant A: "Hey! You can't say nigger! People shouldn't be allowed to say nigger!"
Participant B: "I disagree. I think it's okay if black people use it. But not crackers or spics."
Participant C: "You're wrong. Nigger is always bad, but nigga is fine."
Host: "Gentlemen, if you could just calm down, and let me finish my opening remarks..."
Participants A, B, and C: "Fuck you, nigga!"
Seriously. You might better try to get a group of feminists to agree on something. This is chaos in the making.
Oh, what I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall for THAT little dust-up.
But on to the serious subject of "offensive" words, and later the controversial notion of "reclaiming" them.
I guess I'm just not sure what these people hope to accomplish, if they can't even reach a consensus as to whether or when a word or its derivatives are offensive.
I mean, I think we can all agree that a Klan meeting full of inbred rednecks chanting, "Kill the niggers!" is offensive. Or can we? What if it's done as depicting such a meeting in a film, in the context of events that happened at another time in America's history?
Okay, so that might be acceptable. Let me find another example.
I think we can all agree that a white businessman who elbows his way in front of a black businessman to get a cab on a busy New York City street while shouting, "That's my cab, nigger!" has said something offensive. Aside from the fact that that's an unlikely event, it'll work for what I'm about to say.
The obvious instances don't answer the questions. What about black people who don't want to hear the word nigger? Should they wear a special pin or have it tattooed on their forhead or something so other black people will know not to use it? How about the ones who think nigga is okay, but object to nigger?
What about the use of nigger and other racial slurs in entertainment? Is that okay? Cuz, like, I can't imagine Blazing Saddles being very funny if they substituted "african-American" for "nigger."
And what about non-black folks who have been told by their black friends that they don't mind if said friends use the word nigger around them? And what about bi- or multi-racial people? Is, say, their 75% black allowed to bless their 25% white to say the word?
And then there's the "Is the person saying it trying to be mean and/or hurtful?" question. That's where some of the non-black folks get confused, I think. They know that when a black person calls them a honky or a cracker, the black person doesn't mean it in a nice way. (Although frankly, I don't think anyone's ever actually used the word honky except on the television and in movies, but you catch my drift.) But whereas a black person saying cracker is always meant to not be nice, the same person can say nigger/nigga with warmth and affection.
Which leads us to the "reclaiming" issue. That's a tough one on a lot of levels. Again, ostensibly it would require a consensus. And I don't really see that happening. The late Tupac said N.I.G.G.A. stands for "Never Ignorant Getting Goals Accomplished." And cries of "Bullshit!" have rung loudly ever since.
(Somehow I also have trouble with Tupac sharing his thoughts on ignorance, but maybe that's just me. Back on subject now.)
Not to mention, most efforts to reclaim words are abject failures. Look at "bitch" and "cunt." The drive to reclaim them has been fierce, and still, many women find them offensive and unacceptable. Are they (and their feelings) to be disregarded?
Obviously everyone who's been listening knows my stance. Words only have the power to hurt you if you let them. And everyone should say whatever the fuck they want. Pussy-footing around never got anyone anywhere.
None the less, I wish the nigger conference people luck with deciding when it's okay for who to use what word when.
Have a nice conference, kids.
.
--With a debate swirling nationwide over the n-word, a historically black college in Alabama has set aside four days to discuss the racial slur.
Participants at the conference, which began Thursday and ends Sunday, discussed topics ranging from the origins of the epithet to whether juggling a few letters makes it socially acceptable at the "N" Surrection Conference at Stillman College.
Organizers said the goal of the event is to challenge the use of the n-word "through the use of intelligent dialogue and a thorough examination of black history."--
Um, okay. How exactly is this going to go?
Host: "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to our conference about the word nigger."
Participant A: "Hey! You can't say nigger! People shouldn't be allowed to say nigger!"
Participant B: "I disagree. I think it's okay if black people use it. But not crackers or spics."
Participant C: "You're wrong. Nigger is always bad, but nigga is fine."
Host: "Gentlemen, if you could just calm down, and let me finish my opening remarks..."
Participants A, B, and C: "Fuck you, nigga!"
Seriously. You might better try to get a group of feminists to agree on something. This is chaos in the making.
Oh, what I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall for THAT little dust-up.
But on to the serious subject of "offensive" words, and later the controversial notion of "reclaiming" them.
I guess I'm just not sure what these people hope to accomplish, if they can't even reach a consensus as to whether or when a word or its derivatives are offensive.
I mean, I think we can all agree that a Klan meeting full of inbred rednecks chanting, "Kill the niggers!" is offensive. Or can we? What if it's done as depicting such a meeting in a film, in the context of events that happened at another time in America's history?
Okay, so that might be acceptable. Let me find another example.
I think we can all agree that a white businessman who elbows his way in front of a black businessman to get a cab on a busy New York City street while shouting, "That's my cab, nigger!" has said something offensive. Aside from the fact that that's an unlikely event, it'll work for what I'm about to say.
The obvious instances don't answer the questions. What about black people who don't want to hear the word nigger? Should they wear a special pin or have it tattooed on their forhead or something so other black people will know not to use it? How about the ones who think nigga is okay, but object to nigger?
What about the use of nigger and other racial slurs in entertainment? Is that okay? Cuz, like, I can't imagine Blazing Saddles being very funny if they substituted "african-American" for "nigger."
And what about non-black folks who have been told by their black friends that they don't mind if said friends use the word nigger around them? And what about bi- or multi-racial people? Is, say, their 75% black allowed to bless their 25% white to say the word?
And then there's the "Is the person saying it trying to be mean and/or hurtful?" question. That's where some of the non-black folks get confused, I think. They know that when a black person calls them a honky or a cracker, the black person doesn't mean it in a nice way. (Although frankly, I don't think anyone's ever actually used the word honky except on the television and in movies, but you catch my drift.) But whereas a black person saying cracker is always meant to not be nice, the same person can say nigger/nigga with warmth and affection.
Which leads us to the "reclaiming" issue. That's a tough one on a lot of levels. Again, ostensibly it would require a consensus. And I don't really see that happening. The late Tupac said N.I.G.G.A. stands for "Never Ignorant Getting Goals Accomplished." And cries of "Bullshit!" have rung loudly ever since.
(Somehow I also have trouble with Tupac sharing his thoughts on ignorance, but maybe that's just me. Back on subject now.)
Not to mention, most efforts to reclaim words are abject failures. Look at "bitch" and "cunt." The drive to reclaim them has been fierce, and still, many women find them offensive and unacceptable. Are they (and their feelings) to be disregarded?
Obviously everyone who's been listening knows my stance. Words only have the power to hurt you if you let them. And everyone should say whatever the fuck they want. Pussy-footing around never got anyone anywhere.
None the less, I wish the nigger conference people luck with deciding when it's okay for who to use what word when.
Have a nice conference, kids.
.
Friday, February 23, 2007
With Liberty And Justice For All...
I was reading an article about a man who was killed while riding a motorcycle. It doesn't matter where it happened, or who he was, because the story is always the same:
Someone in a car turned left in front of him, he died, and the driver of the car was given a minor citation.
The penalty for taking a human life because of indifference and carelessness is about fifty bucks in most states.
It's kind of sad, especially since you know if it was someone riding their politically correct bicycle, or some sproggie in a crosswalk, they'd find something serious to charge the person who did the killing with. But this? It's "just" a biker.
Granted, motorcyclists have an image problem. When people think "motorcycle," they think "Harley-Davidson" and "Hell's Angels." That's like saying that all gay men talk with a lisp and use the word "fabulous" in every other sentence. Those are the ones you notice, but they're not necessarily the mainstream.
It's the same with motorcyclists. For every outlaw biker, there's two dozen aging chubby hippie professionals whose "gang" is the Harley Owners Group. Then there's another fifty (or more) motorcyclists that don't even ride a Harley.
Why doesn't anyone ever think of them when the conversation turns to motorcycles? Well, because they're not the ones who are having a shoot-out in a casino in Laughlin, or the ones involved in a huge meth bust, or even the noisy, smelly ones with the loud pipes rolling down the streets of your town.
So everyone gets lumped in with the scum, and thus when a good man dies, the response is, "Oh well, it was just a biker," when it was far more likely to have been a responsible, upstanding citizen whose friends and family are devastated.
It wouldn't surprise me if the grieving friends and relatives of a fallen motorcyclist wanted the person who killed him drawn and quartered and left for the buzzards. And that's understandable, but it's not going to happen. Even when breaking traffic laws results in death, we don't punish those people the same as we do other types of killers.
But I really think most people would agree that if drawing and quartering is too severe a penalty, a fifty dollar traffic ticket is far too light a punishment for indifference and carelessness that took a human life.
A good jumping-off point for this discussion is the American Motorcyclist Association's Justice For All campaign. They ask the question:
"What is a reasonable penalty for a car driver who kills or seriously injures a motorcyclist, bicyclist, pedestrian, or even another car driver?"
The AMA's proposal, involving license suspensions and steep fines, is a step in the right direction. I don't think it goes far enough, though. I mean, you can go to jail for driving more than twenty miles per hour over the speed limit, but there's no jail time if you run a stop sign and kill somebody?
*Cuckoo! Cuckoo!*
So I'd like to offer Danny A. Moose's counter-proposal. Along with the fines and license suspensions outlined, causing serious bodily harm should get you sixty days in jail. And causing death(s) should get you 364 days in jail. (That keeps the confinement at the jail level rather than prison, which is too nasty a place for careless fucktards who are otherwise good people.)
And I've got another proposal, that may sound kind of harsh, but it would certainly make sure that those who kill while driving never lose sight of how careful one must be when operating a motor vehicle.
I propose that each state issue a "skull & crossbones" license plate to those who kill while failing to obey the rules of the road. Require that the driver sport this plate on any vehicle he operates, for a period of five years.
Does that sound cruel? It's not meant to be. It's only meant to remind the driver who killed that it was his sloppy driving that took a life. And it's meant to remind the rest of you just how fragile life is, how often fatal accidents happen, and exactly how careful you have to be when you're driving.
Nobody listens to the moose about stuff like this, but you should. People will keep dying until the penalties for driving like an asshole and then killing someone are more than a love tap on the buttocks.
This has all been very depressing. I'm going to go rub myself on a Bourget or something until I feel better.
Oh, one more thing before I go. Rest in peace, Motorcycle Dude.
.
Someone in a car turned left in front of him, he died, and the driver of the car was given a minor citation.
The penalty for taking a human life because of indifference and carelessness is about fifty bucks in most states.
It's kind of sad, especially since you know if it was someone riding their politically correct bicycle, or some sproggie in a crosswalk, they'd find something serious to charge the person who did the killing with. But this? It's "just" a biker.
Granted, motorcyclists have an image problem. When people think "motorcycle," they think "Harley-Davidson" and "Hell's Angels." That's like saying that all gay men talk with a lisp and use the word "fabulous" in every other sentence. Those are the ones you notice, but they're not necessarily the mainstream.
It's the same with motorcyclists. For every outlaw biker, there's two dozen aging chubby hippie professionals whose "gang" is the Harley Owners Group. Then there's another fifty (or more) motorcyclists that don't even ride a Harley.
Why doesn't anyone ever think of them when the conversation turns to motorcycles? Well, because they're not the ones who are having a shoot-out in a casino in Laughlin, or the ones involved in a huge meth bust, or even the noisy, smelly ones with the loud pipes rolling down the streets of your town.
So everyone gets lumped in with the scum, and thus when a good man dies, the response is, "Oh well, it was just a biker," when it was far more likely to have been a responsible, upstanding citizen whose friends and family are devastated.
It wouldn't surprise me if the grieving friends and relatives of a fallen motorcyclist wanted the person who killed him drawn and quartered and left for the buzzards. And that's understandable, but it's not going to happen. Even when breaking traffic laws results in death, we don't punish those people the same as we do other types of killers.
But I really think most people would agree that if drawing and quartering is too severe a penalty, a fifty dollar traffic ticket is far too light a punishment for indifference and carelessness that took a human life.
A good jumping-off point for this discussion is the American Motorcyclist Association's Justice For All campaign. They ask the question:
"What is a reasonable penalty for a car driver who kills or seriously injures a motorcyclist, bicyclist, pedestrian, or even another car driver?"
The AMA's proposal, involving license suspensions and steep fines, is a step in the right direction. I don't think it goes far enough, though. I mean, you can go to jail for driving more than twenty miles per hour over the speed limit, but there's no jail time if you run a stop sign and kill somebody?
*Cuckoo! Cuckoo!*
So I'd like to offer Danny A. Moose's counter-proposal. Along with the fines and license suspensions outlined, causing serious bodily harm should get you sixty days in jail. And causing death(s) should get you 364 days in jail. (That keeps the confinement at the jail level rather than prison, which is too nasty a place for careless fucktards who are otherwise good people.)
And I've got another proposal, that may sound kind of harsh, but it would certainly make sure that those who kill while driving never lose sight of how careful one must be when operating a motor vehicle.
I propose that each state issue a "skull & crossbones" license plate to those who kill while failing to obey the rules of the road. Require that the driver sport this plate on any vehicle he operates, for a period of five years.
Does that sound cruel? It's not meant to be. It's only meant to remind the driver who killed that it was his sloppy driving that took a life. And it's meant to remind the rest of you just how fragile life is, how often fatal accidents happen, and exactly how careful you have to be when you're driving.
Nobody listens to the moose about stuff like this, but you should. People will keep dying until the penalties for driving like an asshole and then killing someone are more than a love tap on the buttocks.
This has all been very depressing. I'm going to go rub myself on a Bourget or something until I feel better.
Oh, one more thing before I go. Rest in peace, Motorcycle Dude.
.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Joe Knows How To Live
Well. This ought to be interesting.
--Lieberman Says War Vote Could Prompt Party Switch
Sen. Joseph I. Lieberman of Connecticut told the Politico on Thursday that he has no immediate plans to switch parties but suggested that Democratic opposition to funding the war in Iraq might change his mind.
Lieberman, a self-styled independent who caucuses with the Democrats, has been among the strongest supporters of the war and President Bush’s plan to send an additional 21,500 combat troops into Iraq to help quell the violence there.--
There are a lot of people - okay, a lot of democrats - questioning Lieberman's motives.
Some say he continues to support the war over his party's objections due to wanting a U.S. military presence in the Middle East because he's Jewish. They claim that he doesn't really believe what we're doing is right, but merely thinks having them there - for any reason, good or bad - is what's best for Israel. If that is what's on his mind, he's probably not too far off the mark.
Others say he's getting back at the democrats. Their Vice Presidential nominee in 2000, he couldn't even get backing in the primary from his party to retain his Senate seat in 2006. He ran - and won - as an Independent. (Talk about a giant "Fuck you!" to the folks that hung you out to dry. Way to GO, Joe!)
Now if that is why he's doing this, it's no surprise. I'd be pissed off too if my party abandoned me because I wouldn't toe their line.
Yet somehow, I don't think that's why Joe Lieberman is contemplating a switch of parties. I think it's something much simpler, and much more profound.
I believe that Senator Lieberman is an honest man. Yes, I know, the notion of an honest politician is almost absurd. It defies reality. You humans are so used to the convoluted double-speak, the masturbations... er, pontifications on what the meaning of "is" is, that you may not be able to see it. But I don't think I'm wrong.
And obviously he WASN'T willing to be dishonest about his support of the war in Iraq, or he would have done so during the 2006 election season. His steadfastness in his beliefs came at a great cost, so I really doubt he's bluffing.
So here he is, faced with his honesty and personal convictions. And he's surrounded by a bunch of mush-mouthed liars. What to do, what to do?
What he did was throw down the gauntlet. The stakes are enormous (like my penis). Considering that as long as that one Senator is still drooling in a hospital in South Dakota, the democrats hadn't been able to exercise their majority anyway. A Lieberman party switch would be the death blow to that putative majority.
So he is being honest, and drawing his line in the sand. He's saying he'll continue to support the war, and that if they fuck with him enough, he'll fuck the democrats right back but good.
Somehow, I'm sure they heard him. After all, what's he got to lose? They have no leverage over him. What're they going to do? Turn on him like a hoard of rabid weasels?
Oh, wait, they already did that.
Ya know, if I could vote, and this Lieberman dude was running for something, I might just vote for him. I don't agree with him on a lot of stuff. But at least he's got integrity, which is more than can be said about most of the Beltway Assclowns.
Failing that, I'd love to have lunch with him. Jewish deli food is really good.
.
--Lieberman Says War Vote Could Prompt Party Switch
Sen. Joseph I. Lieberman of Connecticut told the Politico on Thursday that he has no immediate plans to switch parties but suggested that Democratic opposition to funding the war in Iraq might change his mind.
Lieberman, a self-styled independent who caucuses with the Democrats, has been among the strongest supporters of the war and President Bush’s plan to send an additional 21,500 combat troops into Iraq to help quell the violence there.--
There are a lot of people - okay, a lot of democrats - questioning Lieberman's motives.
Some say he continues to support the war over his party's objections due to wanting a U.S. military presence in the Middle East because he's Jewish. They claim that he doesn't really believe what we're doing is right, but merely thinks having them there - for any reason, good or bad - is what's best for Israel. If that is what's on his mind, he's probably not too far off the mark.
Others say he's getting back at the democrats. Their Vice Presidential nominee in 2000, he couldn't even get backing in the primary from his party to retain his Senate seat in 2006. He ran - and won - as an Independent. (Talk about a giant "Fuck you!" to the folks that hung you out to dry. Way to GO, Joe!)
Now if that is why he's doing this, it's no surprise. I'd be pissed off too if my party abandoned me because I wouldn't toe their line.
Yet somehow, I don't think that's why Joe Lieberman is contemplating a switch of parties. I think it's something much simpler, and much more profound.
I believe that Senator Lieberman is an honest man. Yes, I know, the notion of an honest politician is almost absurd. It defies reality. You humans are so used to the convoluted double-speak, the masturbations... er, pontifications on what the meaning of "is" is, that you may not be able to see it. But I don't think I'm wrong.
And obviously he WASN'T willing to be dishonest about his support of the war in Iraq, or he would have done so during the 2006 election season. His steadfastness in his beliefs came at a great cost, so I really doubt he's bluffing.
So here he is, faced with his honesty and personal convictions. And he's surrounded by a bunch of mush-mouthed liars. What to do, what to do?
What he did was throw down the gauntlet. The stakes are enormous (like my penis). Considering that as long as that one Senator is still drooling in a hospital in South Dakota, the democrats hadn't been able to exercise their majority anyway. A Lieberman party switch would be the death blow to that putative majority.
So he is being honest, and drawing his line in the sand. He's saying he'll continue to support the war, and that if they fuck with him enough, he'll fuck the democrats right back but good.
Somehow, I'm sure they heard him. After all, what's he got to lose? They have no leverage over him. What're they going to do? Turn on him like a hoard of rabid weasels?
Oh, wait, they already did that.
Ya know, if I could vote, and this Lieberman dude was running for something, I might just vote for him. I don't agree with him on a lot of stuff. But at least he's got integrity, which is more than can be said about most of the Beltway Assclowns.
Failing that, I'd love to have lunch with him. Jewish deli food is really good.
.
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