what the Frist?

Today Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist announced that he supports the expansion of federal financing for human embryonic stem cell research, simultaneously winning stunned praise from Democrats and instant political and spiritual damnation from Republicans.

Yes, you read correctly—Bill friggin’ FRIST. The same man who voted
- NO to fund family planning services
- NO to improve the energy security of the US and reduce dependence on foreign oil
- NO to keep the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge closed to oil drilling
- NO to prohibit Federal employees who leak classified information from holding a security clearance
- YES to define marriage as a union consisting between only a man and woman and prohibiting individual states from recognizing marital status and or legal benefits from any other unions other than that of a man and woman
- and, YES to eliminate funding for the National Endowment for the Arts

What has happened to the man I used to love to hate? Everything that came out of his mouth was Christian-conservative jargon. He was a loyal Republican automanatomanaton, perfectly cast as the liberals’ whipping boy. And now this—a flicker of reason, a hint of backbone, an unprecedented glimmer of hope that he isn’t a complete moron.

I can’t fathom what he must be thinking. Bush has already said that he would veto any bill endorsing embryonic stem cell research. So Frist is throwing away all hope of any conservative support for his alleged 2008 presidential campaign on this one vote that doesn’t even have a chance of making a big-picture difference. I just don’t understand. Perhaps he’s finally succumbed to the evil-doers war campaign and begun smoking marijuana. And as we know, thanks to the ads on TV, reefer causes all sorts of terrible consequences for the abuser including hit-and-runs, teenage pregnancy, firearm accidents and terrorism. Poor bastard. It’s all downhill from here. He’ll never recover.

I think I love him.

a face for radio

Garrison Keillor on the big screen? Isn’t he on the radio? Isn’t there a good reason for that?

Oh yeah.

take it like a man

This week Chicago developer Christopher Carley unveiled his plan to build the nation’s tallest building near Navy Pier. The building (designed by famous architect Santiago Calatrava) would top the Sears tower by 8 feet and stand almost 100 feet taller than Donald Trump’s new skyscraper, which is currently under construction. When asked for comment on the size difference between his tower and the newly proposed one, Trump retorted, “nobody is going to want to live in a building that's a target.”

I know that real estate is a cutthroat business and all, but c’mon—that was below the belt. Bad form, old boy.

my day so far

Vile frustration--thy name is Adobe Acrobat 6.0.

world's fattest lions

This is what happens when you feed lions nothing but kimchi and zookeepers.

supremely perfect

I say--old enough for saddle shoes, old enough for therapy.

all i want is a decent pair of paaaants!

Michel de Montaigne “Of Cannibals,” 1580:

“When I asked the native, ‘What he gained from his superior position among his people?’ (for he was a captain, and our sailors called him a king), he said it was ‘to march foremost in war.’ How many men did he lead? He pointed to a piece of ground, to signify as many as that space could hold: it might be four or five thousand men. Did all his authority lapse with the war? He said ‘that this remained, that, when he visited the villages that were dependent on him, they made paths through their thickets, by which he might pass at his ease.’ All this does not sound too ill; but hold! they don’t wear trousers.”

A man just isn’t a man without his pants.

long live the BBC

Well, since HBO has decided to trash the only show I found remotely interesting last season, I'll have to find something else to watch. Like this.

dicks and dykes

In 1425 Bernardino da Siena delivered a sermon in which he criticized women for their vanity, particularly regarding their giant puffy sleeves (for which he seemed to harbor an obsessive, and dare I say unnatural, hate). In the conclusion of his tirade against medieval fashion trends, he states:

“Women’s vanity is the destruction of a city, ruined by velvets and woolens, for if the same money were put into merchandise it would turn a good profit. But you keep it in your coffers along with your pearls, your other jewelry, your silver, and so forth…Whole families are undone by the inordinate dowries that are given and that men taking a wife demand; if the dowry is not to their liking, they refuse to take her. This is why they give themselves over to the vice of sodomy, some to one kind of ribaldry, some to another, and every sort of vice is practiced. In this way, the population shrinks little by little. And in this way you lose your soul, your body, your goods…”

First, it’s interesting that the religious community of the Middle Ages was so concerned about population growth considering how many witches they supposedly killed by the year 1600. (At that time the population of Europe had grown to almost 95 million, minus about 50,000 witches.) Portugal seems like it was fairly lenient sorcery-wise (6), but the German Territories went nuts (20,000)! Even Estonia cut loose—65 killed in the name of moral sanctity.

Second, I know that he hated sleeves, but can you imagine how upset Bernardino would be with the lingerie-like haltertops of today? I guess that explains the conservative uniform at most private schools. Especially since the administrators instituting these dress codes can still remember the good ol’ days when girls weren’t allowed to wear pants in public high school.

Third, it seems some things haven’t changed—to this day the Christian Right blames homosexuality for breaking down the family. At least now men are held responsible for their own dicks. Ah, progress.

As it turns out Bernardino wasn’t too far off base. Only, in the end, it wasn’t voluminous sleeves that rent the moral fiber of society but women’s slacks.

Damn that Mary Tyler Moore and her cute ass.

oh, Bastille Day (barely)

The day that thousands of French elementary schoolchildren are forced to do reports and participate in reinactments of their ancestors' bid for independence. This is much like what I imagine the 4th of July is for American children, except slightly crazier. You see, while America has Benjamin Franklin and George Washington and Paul Revere's ride--France has Marie Antoinette and the guillotine and the storming of the Bastille. So, not so much a traitorous (yet dignified) announcement of independence from the King of England--more of a prison break, really. A bloody and violent one. Complete with gigantic breasts, according to the old French currency. (Much more exciting if you ask me.) I can clearly remember Bastille Day in French school--Mom frantically sewing three French revolution-era costumes out of blue-white-and-red material for me and my brothers (complete with funny hats made to resemble a rooster's comb--no, I'm not kidding), wearing these ridiculous clothes to school, and then foregoing grammar and math lessons for a parade around town in our patriotic pajamas. Seriously. Kindergarten through 4th grade children walked the streets of our tiny town, singing "La Marseillaise" at the top of their lungs the entire time. We collapsed in a small park a few hours later while the mayor gave a speech about something boring. But it was all very exciting at the time--the costumed crowds, the cheerful marching, the fireworks, the loud singing, the day without math or grammar. Only my brothers were disappointed--no guillotine.

kid names

KIDSREADS.COM ASKED: If you were writing a book and could name the main character anything that you wanted, what name would you pick?

Galloway. It's a classy and manly name.

I would name the character Joshua, because he is very important to the Jews and I am very religious and I love the name Joshua.

Billy Bob

It would depend of course what I was writing about. If it were about wolves, I would name the main character Glaicia. If it was about humans, Sally sounds good!

Hotrod Junior

I would really like Cristal, Moon Light and Star Light, and I really want the book to be called The Spooky Grade 10.

Charlie

Super Lucky

Red

Marsha Martian

Algo, Sir Algo. He would be a knight and a good character, perfect for a book. But I would not take his name for it is in the works at this moment.

If I were writing a book, my main character would be Francis. I think this name is unique; therefore it should be used.

Probably Harry Potter

I would choose Orlando Bloom because he is my crush.

I would choose it to be Zan because it is short and tomboyish, but if it were a girly sort of character I would choose Clarissa.

I would name the main character Sirius Black. I got the name from Harry Potter. The character would not be like Black because I only like that name. I'm not saying that I don't like Black (which I do). I'm just saying that I wouldn't want my character like Sirius Black.

Maxamillion, but he isn't called Max for short --- he is called Million.

AntiCoohiCathchiWoochiSammiCammiWhacki Brown. Anti Brown for short.

Students in my class (2nd grade) chose a boy named Jeremy Fisher. They chose this name because their story would be about a boy who loved to fish.

I would name it Sue.

Pairadiddle Do Little, a slow moving wobbly little fellow who struggles with everything except playing the violin with vibrato.

I would name my main character Frumpy because it sounds cool.

I would pick the name Allison because my sister's name is Allison. I love her and would do anything for her, even have the stomach virus.

Bush go boom

Yesterday, while riding his mountain bike in Gleneagles, Scotland, President Bush collided with a police officer and fell to the asphalt, scraping his hands and arms. This is the second time that Bush has fallen off his bike in as many months. Ironically, he reportedly took up biking in lieu of running because it’s easier on his knees. So far, not so good.

Add this to the list of things to keep away from Dubya:

1) Bikes (or anything without training wheels)
2) Pretzels
3) Power

oobs

The other afternoon one of my co-workers—a pretty, busty, blonde California girl—came up to the front of our office where I was sitting with our other project manager. She glanced furtively down the hallway to make sure that no one was heading our way and then said very quietly that she had to tell us something.

- “Hey guys, I have something to tell you but you have to PROMISE not to tell anyone else at the office, okay?”

We quickly agreed and several possibilities flashed through my mind: 1) she got another job on the sly (but no, she was happy here and doing well), 2) she’s getting married to her long-time boyfriend (but no, she would have bounced in much earlier with news of that caliber).

This left me only one plausible explanation—3) she’s was getting a boob job.

But my brain immediately rebelled. Why would she do that? She already had gigantic jugs. Anything larger would just be foolish! How would she find shirts that fit? She would have to pack 50 pounds onto her hips just to even things out. But who knew, it seems that ‘bigger is better’ is California’s unofficial state motto—at least when it comes to women’s chests. (This trend has yet to catch up to their asses, but I’m patiently biding my time.)

Anyway, it took only a split second for all of this to rush through my head, and then she excitedly announced that she was going to law school. Applause. We enthusiastically congratulated her on this important, life-changing, career-shaping decision.

And I felt like a giant ass.

Democrats: about to take a Tom Cruise in their pants

Well, it’s on. Despite Congress’ half-hearted reassurances that the impending debate over the Supreme Court judicial nomination will be civilized and cooperative, the word on the street is that it’s going to be a bloody, ugly, desperate political fight.

Sandra Day O’Connor is vacating one of the most powerful and influential seats in the country and William Rehnquist will soon follow—it’s like waiting for the friggin’ Pope to drop, except more important. The Pope might make the rules that govern our souls, but the Supreme Court makes the rules that govern our earthly asses. Gun control, prayer in school, abortion, civil liberties, free speech, gay rights and environmental protection—this is what those extra 4 million evangelicals crawled out to vote for in the presidential election. Dubya will be out in three years, but these new Justices will be around for the next 40.

And things aren’t looking good. The Democrats have already been cowed out of filibustering nominees to the federal appeals court and for lack of any real political power at the moment they might soon be searching for the nearest legislative fallout shelter. But no matter where we hole up the fact remains that this may be the war to end all partisan wars, or at least squash any semblance of a balanced democracy. Now, in the past when Turkey’s fledgling democracy began to stray from the balanced, elected-by-the-people parliament system that Father Turkey founded, the military staged a coup and stepped in to realign government priorities in order to set the country back on the straight path of freedom and democracy—three times in sixty years. It’s not a great system, but it’s worked. Unfortunately, there will be no one around to save us. They’re too busy fighting for our freedom, half-way across the globe.

My advice? Start scoping out Baghdad real estate now while it’s still cheap and smoldering—at this rate, in a few years the Iraqi government will stand a better chance at exercising freedom and democracy than we will.