Wednesday, August 28, 2013


Early Christmas is here!

A brief review of some events:
Batshit-crazy Michele Acid-Eyes Bachmann ran for the republican nomination for PUSA in starting in summer 2011, and for all intents and purposes moved to Iowa. In January 2012, after finishing behind Newt Gingrich, Ron Paul, and, well, probably me, she pulled up her tent-revival stakes. 
Upon the completion of her campaign, and her triumphant return to teh Congress where as a member of the Republican caucus and the Teabag Caucus, she promptly voted to defund Obamacare for the 33-39th times, as stormclouds appeared on the horizon. Campaign finance irregularities, including the apparent bribing of an Iowa State Senator, Kent Sorenson, to support her campaign, and the theft of the membership list of an Iowan homeschooling organization to be used for direct mailings, have gotten public and private ethics organizations r-e-e-e-a-a-l-l-y interested in her goings on.
These primary source of many of the allegations, although there are many corroborative witnesses, was the Bachmann campaign evangelical outreach director, Peter Waldron, by any measure a fully-formed fucking wackadoodle. His motivations are, in my opinion, two-fold, and I can see them, actually, being legitimate concerns... 

  • He claims that staff, including him, were not paid for a couple of years
  • (My pure conjecture) Someone will fall on the nearest sword (NO, MARCUS! A literal, albeit metaphorical, sword never mind...) to protect The Girl With The Faraway Eyes (please read Charlie Pierce, that is all), with, admittedly, the promise of a healthy chunk of Wingnut Welfare upon his/her exit from Club Fed, and Waldron prefers it not be him
She had the opportunity to make all of this go away with a check, something her supporters, at the time, before all of this threatened to grow, would have done without question, that's politics, not even particularly remarkable. She did not, choosing instead to publicly insult him. And the growing scandal has ended her career in Congress, for at least as of now, she has declared that she will not be running for MN-6 in 2014


Monday, online, Waldron uploaded BACHMANNISTAN.


I don't normally (anymore) ready political memoirs (exceptions: All the President's Men - Woodward & Bernstein; The Boys On The Bus - Timothy Crouse; Fear and Loathing On The Campaign Trail '72 - Dr. Thompson), but I've heard terms bandied about such as Diva (guess who - yes, Marcus! Kidding...) and Rasputin (Keith Nahigian, the campaign manager replacing Ed Rollins, who apparently took command of the client with an iron fist), and shall be downloading this sumbitch (assuming it ain't'nt like $40) this afternoon.

I tell ya, FSM loves a humble man...

Friday, August 23, 2013

An Open Letter To Fox News And The Daily Tucker

Dear sirs  To whom it may concern  If I may have a moment of your time  Messrs Tucker and Ailes



Ok, listen up!

Fox and Friends and The Daily Caller have raised some eyebrows recently in the coverage of the murder of Christopher Lane in Oklahoma, a baseball player from Australia, out for a jog, and thrilled killed by a trio of dumbasses. Said dumbasses have been identified and arrested, and are so to learn the criminal justice system in detail I am not sure they ever imagined. The point I am going to make is not about the dumbasses.

Both Fox and Friends and the Daily Tucker have reported the suspects as 3 black teenagers. This is incorrect, but go with me here. For that matter, they don't mention that, hey, guns, cool, drool!, but anyway. Both Fox and Friends and Mr. Carlson's errand boys have asked* where the outrage went, why is this manifestation of Black Pantherish radicalism, this enforcement of Jim Crow against the disenfranchised crackers of, um, Australia, or something, being treated as a media afterthought, as opposed to the crowds and speeches and protests related to the  trial of the (now, with moar shotgun!) murderer of Trayvon Martin. (Again, see Mediaite link). In other words, and I can't believe this clause is tripping off my fingers, F&F and Tucker's Rag are waiting for Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson, and President Black Darkie McKenyan to say, well, who knows, they wouldn't listen anyhow, doesn't matter.
Please allow me to drop a nickel in your brains...

  • After Christopher Lane was killed, there was an immediate investigation
  • The investigation discovered the identities of the three dumbasses
  • The three dumbasses were then apprehended and are jailed, as opposed to having been given a pat on the melon, told, congratulations, you just killed your first niAustralian and sent home with a skip in their steps and a song in their hearts
  • The three dumbasses were not given the benefit of an entire television network, hell, an entire print/audio/video media community, calling them heroes, calling for the extermination of all niAustralians, and blaming Christopher Lane for every murder in North America since President Garfield.
  • The three dumbasses, not having a wing of the professional media propping them up, do not have supporters holding up signs about how all niAustralians are thugs, professional ninja chopsaki cold blooded purple drankers hopping to their gangster flows like Fifty Cents.
Oh, I did miss one small similarity in the cases, though. For legal reasons the three dumbasses are referred to as alleged murderers, but Imma take a leap.

Oh, hey, by the way - aren't gunz dr-e-e-e-e-a-a-m-y?

*in this period not long after the comic Performance Piece of the Century, the Zimmerman Trial for his murder of Trayvon Martin

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Separated At Birth

Not saying nothing, certainly no social commentary at all, just, you know, the foremost musician of this or any other generation being copied by some model, just seems, I don't know, derivative?

Soundtrack to supper...

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Back To Work

Ain't gonna lie to you, I have better places to be, but in the interests of continued employment, I best catch up my work.

Monday, August 19, 2013

Saturday Night Film Review (Two Days Late): A Haunting At Silver Falls

As happens when one is a shut-in, one watches a lot of bad TV, bad movies, and spends as much time with his wife as possible. Saturday I spent the day hating life and watching dreadful sasquatch mockbusters on SyFy:

As the evening progressed, my wife returned after a long day on her own errands, and she settled back with me, plopping down peppers to be chopped for homemade salsa, and we just shot the shit for a while, very, very nice, had a supper of leftovers, and as 10 o'clock wound around, we fed kittehs and decided to do a movie and popcorn. Searching through On Demand, we settled on:

A Haunting At Silver Falls        

It is a recent film, so I won't drop too many spoilers.

  • Some pretty genuinely tense scenes, without gore or indeed much blood at all
  • Quite good cinematography, shadow and color, setting and framing. They took some time with their shots
  • While the 'creatures', to use a non-spoiling term, are obviously on a budget, they still beat the hell out of low-budget, poorly conceived CGI (see all the above Bigfoot films. Except maybe Sweet Pru Baby.)
  • The young actors did good jobs playing teenagers, does not appear to be Dawson Casting
  • The villains give pretty good evil
  • Plot holes. Holy fuggit plot holes. Character motivation ran away from this script like a running, ummm, thing. No other way to put it. Not that you need to be spoonfed, but some of these things stand out in your mind like WTF? 

  • I really liked it! Not a worldbeater, but a genuinely fun film for a night in for a few bucks. If the opportunity comes up, take it - worry about the plot holes later. A solid E thumbs.

Television Is A Vast Wasteland! (Hmmm. I Like That, Damn I'm Clever...)

I've spent a week on a couch, feet propped in the air (and NOT. in. the good way!) (You're very welcome, brain bleach to your left, I'll be here a couple more days, thank you!), and watching TV. I want, no, need to share a little thing, I've discovered... 

The problem. With. AMERICA.

I won't make a claim rife with hypocrisy, or brag of special powers - if I have TV, I will watch it, especially if it has ghoulies, beasties, or things what go bump in the night. Including some of the reality TV aboot ghoulies, beasties, and things what go bump in the night. This keeps my channels in the Discovery/TLC/Travel/H2/Syfy (christ do I hate that fucking name) territory. I also love Duck Dynasty (yes, I said it, I know they are huge republicans/fundiegelical/NRA types, don't care, I think it is funnier than hell, and kinda sweet sometimes).

My tastes, however, put me in contact with, oh, say:

Ancient Aliens: Lunatic sharing a hairdresser with Don King takes confirmation bias to a whole new level, thereby taking a field already plagued with poor use of the scientific method and making it look even more foolish, punishing the legitimate scientists who risk mockery to do real research.

Call of the Wildman: Lunatic with impenetrable accent molests southern rodents. 

Celebrity Ghost Stories: Lunatics who have, in fact, been on TV at one point or other (hell, I've been on TV, several times. High Quiz Bowl, bitches. Yes, I'm an enormous nerd), all of whom seem to fought off Satan himself, and hellhounds, and the ghost of Charles Manson, Charles Schultz, Charles In Charge.

Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives: Lunatic who is also giant douchebag stretches what could be an enjoyable, short series/travelogue into an interminable, unwatchable, celebration of lunatic douchebag.

Lizard Lick Towing: Lunatics who have gone into repo work because I, for one, am not calling anything called goddam Lizard Lick Towing when my 78 Vega breaks the length of sisilana I am using for a fan belt. 

Okay. I see. Let us try the class of television, then. Yes, I am about to get flamed, fuck off, I'm right and you know it.

Dexter: Seriously, bad guy catches bad guys, I suppose it is an interesting concept, but it has been done.

Breaking Bad: Same as the Sopranos, and also BORING AS HELL. Bryan Cranston is, however, an unbelievable actor.

Mad Men: What the fuck? Republican wet dream. How is this nostalgia - that America sucked, it's like that movie The Help. The one time I saw MM, I hated because it made me mad as hell, and I wanted to beat every character senseless.

All of teh above? Need moar evil dead things.

paleo Kicking Back, Feet Up, Because HE HAS TO. GAH!!!!! BLASTBUGGERALLROTTINGDAMMIT!!!!!

So, on Wednesday, after a few days of my fully functional foot starting down the road towards not exactly, I went to the doctor. Okay, no worries, crutches and kneewalker, couple days off, with painkillers, 6 weeks of hobbling about like a mad cow.

"Yeah doc*, it's probably this thingy again. Yeah, uh-huh. No, other foot. No, other foot. No, I don't need viagra. Yeah, no. Xrays, sure, cover our bases, ultrasound, wevs, I'd hate to be pregnant, although you'll be able to retire on the book rights, whereas I'll just end up with a carpet squirrel. Yeah, cover our asses."

(*Actually, my doctor is super cool, insists I call her by name, I don't because I respect her, listen to her, trust her, and she has lit my ass up when I have not done as well as she has ordered. And she is married to a geek, so she understands, well, like my wife, mostly understands, the constant stream of weirditude escaping my lips. Neat lady.)

"Hello, ultrasound person, how's it going, oh, I'm fine, certain amount of pain, well, quite a bit, really, drop the pants?, umm, ok, it's summer so I'm, ummm, commando, no, I have no worries or remaining dignity, just making you aware, cool?, s'cool, how's that thing wor-AAAHHHHK!...   ...Yeah, that sort of smarted a whole damn bunch...   ...No shit...   ...damn...   ...Thanks ma'am."

Three blood clots, one foot, no waiting. Two of them are DVTs (deep vein thrombosis) in each main vein (anterior and distal) passing through the ankle, a few inches long. The third is an SVT (superficial vein thrombosis) in the same area, that does not cause much of an issue on its own being basically a glorified varicose vein, but given its location was causing pain. On a blood thinner (coumadin) and blood slipperier (lovenox, spendy little shot too). Being these are my 3rd and 4th DVTs and 2cd SVTs in my life, for no apparent reasons, gotta go to a rheumatologist, probably be on coumadin for life, another goddamn pill.

By Wednesday evening and through Thursday, until some of the blood thinners began to take effect, there was significantly entertaining swelling, discoloration, and pain. I'd say size and shape of a foot-shaped melon and color of a plum, a melum, if you will. (I am patenting that fruit.)

Over the course of the weekend the foot has been returning to its normal appearance and feeling, still a little swollen. I can walk now, (somewhat reluctantly). Spent much of the weekend baked on vicodin (yes, I know for most people it is merely like taking 6-8 ibuprofen, but it levels me, and entertains the fuck out of my wife. I don't enjoy it too much, and now with much of the pain gone Imma stop.

I'm aware I am not exactly (name a popular actor, because I don't know any), but my wife likes me, and that's all I ultimately care about. Doesn't change the fact that I want very much to be healthier, look better, and have plans in place to do so. 

Plans which I have every intention of fulfilling.


Dammit, I am getting so pissed off and so tired of being stuck immobile. It is not as if I am typically inactive, plan or no plan, I have shit to do, and I can't even get to the regular stuff, much less I want to start Tae Kwan Do and swimming, and evening walks, just keep working, but I can't even yet use my new lawnmower, and fuck. Hell, I have just broken every rule of grammar in 6+ languages - you know how many calories that burns? - one, maybe two if I have to backspace and rewrite a lot. I am not a bad guy, dammit. P'raps a bit undisciplined personally, but I try to be nice? C'mon, I need a break. Pbbffllttt!

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Congratulations, Republicans. We Are Now Officially The Dumbest People In History

Lunch. W00t!1! Lessee, ham sammich, chips, fresh pico de gallo, thanks sweetheart, what to read. Ummm, Raw Story?

Wow. Holy dammit. My peachy mood has improved so much stuff and stuff...

Idiots Found At Sea. Shorter: Government bad abortion bad gays icky let's take our children to the island nation of Wherethefuckoa. Lost at sea for 3 months? shockhorror. The moment that the US taxpayer-funded flight hits US soil, I want those children in the custody of, well, really, anyone has got to be better than the Swiss Family Mouthbreather. Then send the parents to a place they have earned - the belly of a shark. I don't care if it's in Seaworld, I'll buy the PPV.

Requested Edit:

Another Coward With A 9mm Penis Shows How Neat Gun Culture Is. Shorter:The 8 year old kid was carrying Legos, do the math. You fucking drama queens with your metal genital replacements - follow this man's example, swallow a bullet. Skip the whole kill a kid thingie, plz. Hell, suck a tailpipe, killyerselfwithfire, I no longer give a shit, just go away permanently. You all, so pants-pissingly terrified of your own shadow, or Skittles, or 8 year-olds? Take some goddam initiative, hide from them as effectively as can be imagined. Useless gits.
      Alternative Cowards With 9mm Penises Show How Brave They Are. Frappacinos can give you a helluva ice-cream headache, but don't worry, these warriors will protect you. I am, in truth, somewhat surprised that none of these gimps were carrying an AR-15 in Newtown - that's usually how they roll. Inbreds.

Man With Sourdough Culture On His Head Opens Mouth On National TV Again. Ted Cruz should not be president. He is not right, in any sense of the word. I don't mind him being humilerated, makes me happy. As to his eligibility, I don't know anything about what the hell Trump is talking about (some controversy? I'll look it up later) and am not too terrified, I mean, even if he is an evil foreigner he is, somehow, more, umm, normal than President Obama if'n youknowwudImeannIthinkyoudo. {/birfer} No, fuck Ted Cruz and the corpse of Joe McCarthy he rode in on. My point is, how in the hell does this gaseous conman get on TV anytime he likes to fart at America? What editor/producer says at the Friday morning meeting, "Ratings are down, we are trying too hard to inform the electorate, and I got a quick fix", and can we try him for crimes against humanity?

Shit, need more music.

Sunday Aggression

I have a crank-ums.

A lot going on, a lot I just have to wait for. Needed doctors appointments that I kinda want the results from (no, not dying, but there are issues I want to end now and I just have to take things as they come up, but never as soon as I'd like). Job things (I need it to be Aug 26th now, but having not yet mastered bending time to my purposes, I say a hearty FUCK!). Stuff I want/need to get done at home (I need it to be 2014 yesterday, and to have in the interim invented human cloning, a branch of psychology dedicated to the issues of human clones, an ethical way of getting aforesaid clones the hell out of my house once the painting is done - p'raps via world domination, the paleo-Dynasty). I'd like to see my wife a touch more frequently (say, daily, but there remains a short time before things settle down, ummm, now + 14 days or so.)

I have no cosmic-scale reasons to be pissed off, but being human, I get crank-ums, and being an electrician, wherein, theoretically, doing the same thing the same way twice gives me the same result (I know, I know, just go with me here), I do not dance elf-like when the universe does not do exactly what I want it to do.

The wee music box becomes a bit agitated on such days. Obviously, there are very few songs with a bridge lyric of "thank god it is September and I don't have to slowly squeeze the life out of someone anymore", but the selection tends towards, well, crank-ums.

I don't know if Vevo gives the same commercial to everybody with the same tune, but the one I got with this song was for a Samsung tablet, which had me totally nuke the commercial from orbit as everyone in it annoyed me.

I like Aaron Barrett. Mostest cheerfullest bastard I know.

I was just going to post 'Uncle Walter', but screw it, the whole album is about right today.



Monday, August 5, 2013

Steven Moffat Is A Double Crossing Weasel With A Heart Of Unproveablium

So. paleo, proud possessor of his own sonic screwdriver and the desire, ability, stated intent, and devastatingly good looks required to be the Twelfth Doctor, has been passed over by some hack.

With a spleen full of vitriol, and a keyboard full of Whiteout because I am uncapable of typing this morning, I announce my desire to be the
Eighth Master. 

In all seriousness, although I was rooting for Idris Elba, badass,

I've liked Peter Capaldi from back when he was Danny Oldsen in Local Hero, the polyglot assistant to Mac, with a crush on a mermaid, and in Neverwhere, Torchwood, and every BBC series since ever. The Doctor's dynamic will change seriously, he's 10 years older than I am and while there must be running, always running, the Doctors since the reboot have been very physical, up to and including Matt Smith being quintuple-jointed, apparently. The regeneration will be during the Christmas episode, and yes, I'll be there.