Monthly Archives: October 2010


This is what is wrong with my generation:

Government Doesn’t Suck’ march planned

Seriously? The best you can come up with is “Government Doesn’t Suck”? The Tea Party movement draws on actual history, references the Framers, calls for a return to the heart of the Constitution, etc. and the best these geniuses can come up with is, “Nuh-uh! The government doesn’t suck!”

Good God. What hath Mtv wrought? I love that my generation has embraced wholeheartedly the “censorship through ridicule” doctrine so adroitly expressed by The Daily Show and its weirdly rage-filled (and not in a satirical way) spinoff with Colbert, but no matter how funny you find everything when you’re hitting the bong after a long day at the DMV, that crap is no substitute for substantive news and information. When you’re 21 and still reeling from the transition from adolescence to early adulthood (or at least you should be), it’s still charming to use informal language when referring to serious, “grown-up” issues. After 25, you’re on some shaky ground in my book. After 30 . . . well, I’ve probably stopped talking to you at this point.

Welcome to the Reality Bites generation of voters and politically “aware.”


Have any of my smarty pants readers spent any time with the work of Shusaku Endo? I randomly picked up his Silence last night at the bookstore and had to fight the urge to run to the checkout with it. (When your Kindle queue is as full as mine, you need to start practicing some self-restraint.) I read the introduction and the first couple chapters and it was amazing. In honor of Hallowe’en, I’ve been on a Lovecraftian kick, reading The Case of Charles Dexter Ward — love! — and The Call of Cthulhu — love even more! — but I nearly lost the thread when I encountered Endo.

I love deciphering the hidden language of culture through literature, and I find Japanese culture, past and present, fascinating.

I shall be patient and tear through a few more classic tales of dread and horror, and come back to Endo. He seems to be worthy.

She knows which way the wind blows.

There are so many things I could write about this story, but I am tired and in the midst of a Psych marathon. Stories of upper class European women converting to Islam are becoming common, and while I don’t begrudge anyone a religious experience or two, it’s so much more complicated than that. The author of this article was raised Muslim, and I believe she handles the subject well.

The explanation given by several of the women — that the decadent, amoral lifestyle we’ve been told we’re supposed to aspire to is soul-destroyingly empty — just proves that the human heart longs for something more than this world can offer. Can that something be found in Islam? As a Christian and a woman, I find it highly unlikely. (Which exposes my intrinsic bigotry and blah blah blah.) But the point is that even when a society does its best to erase God, the longing remains. We need something beyond this shitty world where everything seems so pointless and random.

And besides, these ladies can be the first to make Hermes hijabs all the rage.

Roasted red pepper and tomato soup is delicious. And also dinner.

There is something fundamentally wrong with this country. With the world, actually. I’m more convinced of this than ever before. Some jackass egomaniac can get hold of hundreds of thousands of top secret military files but can’t be bothered to dig up Obama’s college transcripts. Or his birth certificate. (I’m no Birther, but that’s some irony you can’t ignore.) Thousands of active military servicemen has been disenfranchised in New York, because someone was either too lazy or dishonest to put their ballots in the mail. And no one in charge seems to care. (Those ignorant soldiers would probably vote Republican anyway.)

Also, it’s not only illegal to ask someone for ID when stopping them for a traffic violation in Arizona, you cannot ask for proof of citizenship when someone shows up at the voting booth. Asking for proof of citizenship in Maine might be overkill, unless there are rogue undocumented Canadians flooding the border to vote for the Dems that I don’t know about. Perhaps Canucks find it grimly amusing to watch their southern neighbors die a slow death in the stifling bosom of the soft tyranny of bureaucracy.

But asking for proof of citizenship at the voting booth in Arizona is simply prudent. If I have to explain why, well, you haven’t been paying attention. So shut up.


Sorry if my previous post was a bit, ah. . . intemperate. Late night mobile blogging can be dangerous. I’ve been perusing the L.L. Bean catalog this afternoon, which has calmed my fury. Window shopping for cozy fleece and wool 3/4 length coats — not to mention the to-die-for classic equestrian boots — will do that. Unfortunately, the effect is but momentary.

All the shiny equestrian boots in the world can change the fact that Julian Assange is a cowardly loser with an inflated sense of importance who should have been disposed of by Mitch Rapp before Wikileaks became an international bother. There’s nothing brave about that guy, no matter what the Che-tshirt-clad, overeducated bores in university coffee houses are saying. I’m so tired of the refuse that passes for heroism these days. How brave is it to attack the most benign superpower in history? We’re so torn up with false guilt, any criticism becomes validation of our own cultural self-talk. You slap us, and we thank you for it. Because we obviously deserve it for being so “fortunate.” Fortune had very little to do with America’s success. We’ve earned our place in the world and I’m tired of seeing our government apologizing for the backbreaking work done by our forebears.

We’re awesome and that makes us a target. Deal with it.

The breakdown of our culture by the left’s PC, hypersensitive, multi-culti bullsh*t has left us bereft of heroes, and the refusal to give our children a classical education has left them with the inability to identify true heroism. How about letting them read Homer without the postmodern cultural commentary written by some tenured weenie? Reading Homer on my own led me down a great and winding path through classical history and mythology to other, less predictable but no less fascinating places. I know that Western civilization has failed my generation when I hear some of my peers referring to worthless rejects like Assange as “brave.” What’s brave about putting the lives of Afghanis and Iraqis in danger? I’ve heard that the fallout from the last leak “wasn’t that bad.” Well, did even one person die as a result? If so, Assange is a murderer and should be treated as such.

After his rape trials are over, that is.

We’ve fallen far as a culture when this level of stupidity is tolerated.

Quick! Somebody give Julian a reality show!

Calling a douche a douche.

Can we all stop calling Julian Assange a “whistleblower” and start calling him by his true name: cowardly little accused rapist leftard lapdog. This asswipe is trying to influence our election from somebody’s couch in Sweden, where he’s hiding. Like a bitch.

Last time I checked, we hadn’t even tried to arrest him.

So he’s putting Iraqi lives on the line now. I’ll refrain from going into detail regarding what I wish would happen to this piece of sh*t.

Shiny awesomeness.

We’re switching homeschool co-ops! I am not impressed with the one we’re involved with. If I wanted the kid in public school, I’d have kept her in that substandard mess up the road. At least then I’d have my mornings free.

Also, I meant to write this morning, but I got sucked in by Facebook. My friends all have new pictures of their adorable babies up. I was helpless.

I’ll try to crank out something useful in the next 24 hours. Steyn’s got a pretty interesting story up at his site about soft, weak, sophisticated folk folding under the slightest pressure from Islamist front groups.

Oh, and here’s my new red hair. I’m not convinced it’s the best hue for my complexion, but I am loathe to give it up on account of its shiny awesomeness.

Not the best picture, but the Android phone I have is awkward at best when taking photos. I’m considering the iPhone 4 for the front camera alone. Apple can thank my vanity for the sale.

And I hate my nose.

The allure of her.

I’ve just finished the Allure magazine profile of Julianne Moore and learned that she will be 50 this year! I’m wondering if 33 is too late to start slathering on the sunscreen. The woman is gorgeous and doesn’t look a day over 40. She’s also ridiculously talented, lending a bit of luminosity and depth to every role she plays. Her characters all seem impeccably real, not Hollywood “real”, but messy and dirty and unlovely. You know, like your reality. And definitely like mine.

I make the vow to wear SPF 70 physical sunblock, (the main ingredient in most chemical sunscreens is a hormone inhibitor! Ew!), but it seems to be so much work in southern California. It’s sunny here nearly every day, which means layers of pasty sunblock 365 days a year. But if it would help me have skin even remotely like Ms. Moore at 50, I suppose it’s worth it. I should tape a picture of her next to my bathroom mirror to remind myself to wear sunblock every day.


I have to admit, I’ve liked Juan Williams for quite awhile. He’s often wrong, but he seems like such a gentle spirit and a man after Dr. King’s heart, I find I can forgive him. I love his writings on the Civil Rights movement and old Negro spiritual songs. Good stuff.

(I feel really weird using the word “Negro” even though that is the classification for that kind of music.)

I heard what Williams said, in its entirety, and it was hardly offensive. I find it offensive that it has come to this with regard to political correctness. NPR jumped the gun and showed its hand — how’s that for mixing metaphors? — revealing itself to be the worst kind of “unbiased” news organization, an inflexible, biased one. I hear they’re going to go after Mara Liasson next, or at least NPR’s key demographic, the rabid leftist, would like them to. This is just a long overdue punishment for Williams’ insolence, his appalling disloyalty in working with the “enemy”, Fox News. The Left has been dying for this to happen.

Poor Juan. I hope he weathers this well. It must be a shock to be betrayed by the movement to which one has devoted their life.

Keep your chin up, buddy.

Stop lying, Janet.

So it gets worse for my home state. As the nice lady sheriff warned me as she shooed us back onto the freeway during an unscheduled pit stop south of I-8, Arizona’s deserts aren’t exactly empty and they sure ain’t getting friendlier.

On May 13th of this year, the US Department of Homeland Security sent out an email to several law enforcement agencies regarding intelligence information they had developed. The information was not disseminated to the general public as it was deemed “law enforcement sensitive.”

Two days ago, the Pinal County Sheriff’s Office was contacted by a local news entity that had the information contained in the email regarding “assassins being sent to take out bandits in Vekol Valley” which is located in western Pinal County. The news entity had confirmed the information through other law enforcement agencies both on a local and federal level.

I’m sure I’ve managed to convey a bit of the anger and frustration that I feel when I come across stories like this — or have conversations with nice lady sheriffs — but I don’t mind repeating myself. Phoenix is the fifth largest city in this country, and yet only miles from its city limits, cartel assassins are scouring the desert for drug thieves. What kinds of safety checks and verification methods do you think those assassins employ? Do you think they wait until the thieves are caught in the act? Do they check ID and get witness corroboration before they kill? Or do you think that it’s possible for some unwary, Jeep-driving, 4×4 enthusiast and his kids to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? Oh, I’m sure that would never happen.

This is Third World sh*t, kids. It doesn’t belong in the US, miles from a massive city like Phoenix. That desert belongs to us, people who enjoy building bonfires and sitting on tailgates and exploring old cemeteries and ghost towns. It belongs to off-roaders and hikers and sweet little geologists who love animals so much she can’t bear to eat them. It belongs to people who get tired of city noise and want a little of that overpowering silence that falls on you in the desert, threatening to drive you a little crazy under the vault of that hard vault of metallic blue sky.

That’s my desert, and just because I don’t live there doesn’t mean I love it less. Someday I will call it home again, and when I do, I don’t want cartel assassins creeping around. I don’t want drug and human traffickers polluting the land. I don’t want these merchants of death poisoning my already troubled home state. Fortunately, in Arizona, I will be able to sit atop my patio roof with a rifle and protect what’s mine, but that’s not really the role I want to play.

Enforce the effing laws on the books, you worthless Feds, and in the meantime, stop persecuting those who care enough about Arizona to protect it.

Oh, and stop insisting that all is well on this side of the border, because we all know it’s horsesh*t.

Sheriff Paul Babeu stated, “This information came from Homeland Security Director Janet Napolitano’s office. She knows exactly what the citizens of Arizona are faced with yet she continues to publicly state how much safer we all are. I once again ask her to please put politics aside and secure the border or give us the resources we need so that we can protect our Arizona families.”

Here’s the Washington Times article for those who doubt the validity of blog sources.

Here’s the Google map of the Vekol Valley for the curious. My hometown of Yuma is to the southwest, tucked neatly out of sight.


Now this is definitely something I’ve never seen on the freeways of San Diego.

That’s awesome! I love wolves. Wolves are smarter, meaner and generally more awesome than dogs, but I’ve just got to settle, I guess.

What’s up, bitches?

Usually I’d ignore her. But most conservative women running for office don’t have time to stop and be petty. I can do that for them.

As I’ve said about Maureen: It must be hard to be that angry all the time. That’s why I stay cheerful — just to irritate her. Two can play at that game, sister.

Amen to that.

I’ve got to admit that I’ve never enjoyed reading MoDo. I wrote her off years ago, and never looked back — kind of my M.O. when it comes to mean girls. It’s just better that way. I may choose to ignore bitches but my cattiness, when dusted off and returned to active duty, is legendary. I shouldn’t be proud of it, but I am.

Anyway, Dana Perino fires back at MoDo’s pathetic screed over at the Corner. If I were a betting girl, I’d bet Dana could take MoDo in a street fight — and never stop smiling as she flattened her. Republican chicks are brawlers.

The whore ain’t Meg Whitman.

Really? This is what they’re going with? Unbelievable. The last shred of dignity with which NOW had escaped the ’90′s has now been swept away by their gross, blatant, slavish partisanship. National Organization of Women?

Not this woman.

National Organization of (Political) Whores is more like it. Do yourselves a favor and bow out gracefully. Embrace your irrelevance, NOW.

I love you, Shawn Spencer!

Psych has finally been added to the Netflix instant library and I, for one, could not be happier. I was running out of mindless things to watch, having watched seasons 1-3 of Newsradio twice over already. Every season of Psych and Monk at my fingertips — it’s a dream come true.