I love women. Love them.
And respect them and see them as my equals if not my superiors.
But Sarah Palin is not smart. She doesn't speak in complete sentences instead using more of a stream of consciousness approach to speaking about America and crisis mode and the next great depression and possibly having to go to war with Russia because Georgia and Ukraine should be in NATO and the Bush Doctrine/Bush's worldview Charlie? I can see Russia from my house! she sounds like what I would sound like if you fed me too much information about how to answer questions without really knowing anything about the issues because maybe I went to five colleges in six years and graduated from the University of Idaho but I didn't blink because I knew how great Senator McCain is and you don't blink when these kinds of things happen because he'll reform Washington and has a history of doing so even when everyone is against him and how people are looking to McCain -- he's a maverick! with 13 cars -- to see what he'll do with the economic package even though really it's not his deal and he should probably not halt his campaign even though they're still running ads and prepare for the debate that he's backing out of because he loves gimmicks and is not able to multitask and are.
I'm tired.
Long long time ago I ran across the UK Mac guys. In my head, I confidently decided that these guys weren't funny, despite the popularity of their TV show: Peep Show (which isn't actually on the beeb/BBC).
I was wrong.
I watched Season 2 of Peep Show this week and it is brilliant. It sort of combines the cubicle humor of The Office (UK edition) with the social awkwardness of Flight of the Conchords. Who could ask for anything more?
I'm sure it will be in the US in some form sooner or later. Although they'll have to tone it down unless it's on HBO Little-Britain style.
Update: seems like you can watch the whole thing on YouTube!
I think I'm going to write a short that happens in an airport. All of the worst things will happen to the hero as he travels to somewhere he doesn't want to go in the first place -- his suitcase slides down the escalator, someone initiates Larry Craig-like footsie with him in the bathroom, his bags are blown up when he gets distracted.
Any great insights on how it should end? I have some ideas.
Explaining how she felt when John McCain offered her the Vice-Presidential spot, my Vice-Presidential candidate, Governor Sarah Palin, said something very profound: “I answered him ‘Yes’ because I have the confidence in that readiness and knowing that you can’t blink, you have to be wired in a way of being so committed to the mission, the mission that we’re on, reform of this country and victory in the war, you can’t blink. So I didn’t blink then even when asked to run as his running mate.”
Isn’t that so true? I know that many times, in my life, while living it, someone would come up and, because of I had good readiness, in terms of how I was wired, when they asked that—whatever they asked—I would just not blink, because, knowing that, if I did blink, or even wink, that is weakness, therefore you can’t, you just don’t. You could, but no—you aren’t.
That is just how I am.
Do you know the difference between me and a Hockey Mom who has forgot her lipstick?
A dog collar.
Do you know the difference between me and a dog collar smeared with lipstick?
Not a damn thing.
We are essentially wired identical.
So, when Barack Obama says he will put some lipstick on my pig, I am, like, Are you calling me a pig? If so, thanks! Pigs are the most non-Élite of all barnyard animals. And also, if you put lipstick on my pig, do you know what the difference will be between that pig and a pit bull? I’ll tell you: a pit bull can easily kill a pig. And, as the pig dies, guess what the Hockey Mom is doing? Going to her car, putting on more lipstick, so that, upon returning, finding that pig dead, she once again looks identical to that pit bull, which, staying on mission, the two of them step over the dead pig, looking exactly like twins, except the pit bull is scratching his lower ass with one frantic leg, whereas the Hockey Mom is carrying an extra hockey stick in case Todd breaks his again. But both are going, like, Ha ha, where’s that dumb pig now? Dead, that’s who, and also: not a smidge of lipstick.
A lose-lose for the pig.
There’s a lesson in that, I think.
Who does that pig represent, and that collar, and that Hockey Mom, and that pit bull?
You figure it out. Then give me a call.
Seriously, give me a call.
Now, let us discuss the Élites. There are two kinds of folks: Élites and Regulars. Why people love Sarah Palin is, she is a Regular. That is also why they love me. She did not go to some Élite Ivy League college, which I also did not. Her and me, actually, did not go to the very same Ivy League school. Although she is younger than me, so therefore she didn’t go there slightly earlier than I didn’t go there. But, had I been younger, we possibly could have not graduated in the exact same class. That would have been fun. Sarah Palin is hot. Hot for a politician. Or someone you just see in a store. But, happily, I did not go to college at all, having not finished high school, due to I killed a man. But had I gone to college, trust me, it would not have been some Ivy League Élite-breeding factory but, rather, a community college in danger of losing its accreditation, built right on a fault zone, riddled with asbestos, and also, the crack-addicted professors are all dyslexic.
Sarah Palin was also the mayor of a very small town. To tell the truth, this is where my qualifications begin to outstrip even hers. I have never been the mayor of anything. I can’t even spell right. I had help with the above, but now— Murray, note to Murray: do not correct what follows. Lets shoe the people how I rilly spel Mooray and punshuate so thay can c how reglar I am, and ther 4 fit to leed the nashun, do to: not sum mistir fansy pans.
OK Mooray. Get corecting agin!
Thanks, Murray, you’re fabulous. Very good at what you do. Actually, Murray, come to think of it, you are so good, I suspect you are some kind of Élite. You are fired, Murray, as soon as this article is done. I’m going to hire someone Regular, who is not so excellent, and lives off the salt of the land and the fat of his brow and the sweat of his earth. Although I hope he’s not a screw-up.
I’m finding it hard to concentrate, as my eyes are killing me, due to I have not blinked since I started writing this. And, me being Regular, it takes a long time for me to write something this long.
Where was I? Ah, yes: I hate Élites. Which is why, whenever I am having brain surgery, or eye surgery, which is sometimes necessary due to all my non-blinking, I always hire some random Regular guy, with shaking hands if possible, who is also a drunk, scared of the sight of blood, and harbors a secret dislike for me.
Now, let’s talk about slogans. Ours is: Country First. Think about it. When you think of what should come first, what does? Us ourselves? No. That would be selfish. Our personal families? Selfish. God? God is good, I love Him, but, as our slogan suggests, no, sorry, God, You are not First. No, you don’t, Lord! How about: the common good of all mankind! Is that First? Don’t make me laugh with your weak blinking! No! Mercy is not First and wisdom is not First and love is super but way near the back, and ditto with patience and discernment and compassion and all that happy crap, they are all back behind Country, in the back of my S.U.V., which— Here is an example! Say I am about to run over a nun or orphan, or an orphan who grew up to become a nun—which I admire that, that is cool, good bootstrapping there, Sister—but then God or whomever goes, “It is My will that you hit that orphaned nun, do not ask Me why, don’t you dare, and I say unto thee, if you do not hit that nun, via a skillful swerve, your Country is going to suffer, and don’t ask Me how, specifically, as I have not decided that yet!” Well, I am going to do my best to get that nun in one felt swope, because, at the Convention, at which my Vice-Presidential candidate kicked mucho butt, what did the signs there say? Did they say “Orphaned Nuns First” and then there is a picture of a sad little nun with a hobo pack?
Not in my purview.
Sarah Palin knows a little something about God’s will, knowing God quite well, from their work together on that natural-gas pipeline, and what God wills is: Country First. And not just any country! There was a slight error on our signage. Other countries, such as that one they have in France, reading our slogan, if they can even read real words, might be all, like, “Hey, bonjour, they are saying we can put our country, France, first!” Non, non, non, France! What we are saying is, you’d better put our country first, you merde-heads, or soon there will be so much lipstick on your pit bulls it will make your berets spin!
In summary: Because my candidate, unlike your winking/blinking Vice-Presidential candidate, who, though, yes, he did run as the running mate when the one asking him to run did ask him to run, which that I admire, one thing he did not do, with his bare hands or otherwise, is, did he ever kill a moose? No, but ours did. And I would. Please bring a moose to me, over by me, and down that moose will go, and, if I had a kid, I would take a picture of me showing my kid that dead moose, going, like, Uh, sweetie, no, he is not resting, he is dead, due to I shot him, and now I am going to eat him, and so are you, oh yes you are, which is responsible, as God put this moose here for us to shoot and eat and take a photo of, although I did not, at that time, know why God did, but in years to come, God’s will was revealed, which is: Hey, that is a cool photo for hunters about to vote to see, plus what an honor for that moose, to be on the Internet.
How does the moose feel about it? Who knows? Probably not great. But do you know what the difference is between a dead moose with lipstick on and a dead moose without lipstick?
Lipstick.
Think about it.
Moose are, truth be told, Élites. They are big and fast and sort of rule the forest. Sarah took that one down a notch. Who’s Élite now, Bullwinkle?
Not Sarah.
She’s just Regular as heck.
My Gal by George Saunders, from the September 22 issue of The New Yorker.
I've advocated in the past to ban children from carrying umbrellas because they're not aware enough to carry one responsibly.
The opposite is true for backpacks, however. Give them backpacks. All of them. They seem to enjoy it, so take advantage of the extra capacity.
Amazing to consider. It wasn't so long ago.
What were we thinking?
I was just thinking about taxes after reading this article ... http://money.cnn.com/2008/06/11/news/economy/candidates_taxproposals_tpc/index.htm ... and also having recently visited Sweden where tax rates are top in terms of %, yet everyone seems to be happy, looked after and incredibly well dressed.
[PAUSE AS ER/UK WALKS OVER TO NEARBY HIGH HORSE AND GETS LEG UP AND OVER SADDLE]
My stance: taxes are fun to complain about, but really, if you're reading this blog, you're rich, and complaining about your forced monetary contributions to society at any level is a bit petty.
I've had some conversations about The Economy lately with friends and family, and although I do have an opinion, if I sit back and consider things from a macro perspective, I can't quite convince myself that these things matter. This isn't to say that economic struggle in the US and across the developed world isn't real, it's just to say that when so many opportunities are afforded to such a select few, it seems silly to compare basis points.
[ER/UK DOES FLYING DISMOUNT FROM HIGH HORSE, FALLS FACE-FIRST INTO STABLE YARD, PICKS SELF UP, PICKS TEETH UP, THEN AMBLES BOW-LEGGED TOWARDS TOMORROW'S BLOG]
Trifecta of gloriousness has a small chance of happening several times this season. It's when Notre Dame football, the Colts, and Arsenal all win.
Happened last weekend in fairly dramatic circumstances in each game.
Trifecta of gloriousness can also happen when I'm feeling more cynical. Tottenham must lose, Tom Brady must be broken into small pieces, and Sarah Palin must respond to interview questions similarly to Miss Teen South Carolina. Done, done and done.
Friends, comrades, lovers: it's been too long. I have so many things on my mind these days and I should really be blogging about them separately.
But I'm lazy so here's the list:
1. Sarah Palin -- so many frustrations. Originally I thought she might be a legit pick. After seeing her stumble through a gimme interview I can honestly say that if McCain is elected we'll be getting the presidential duo we deserve. Politics will have officially gone the way of American Idol. It's somehow not cool to be thoughtful or informed anymore. It's better to be memorable and instinctive. I'm sad.
2. Paralympics -- On the one hand it's inspiring. I watched wheelchair tennis and a few swimming events, volleyball ... on the other hand it seems like there are a lot of unfair matchups. I watched 7v7 football and the team with the 'lesser' disabilities won easily. It's tough for me to watch and enjoy something if it seems unfair. Maybe it doesn't matter. If you haven't already, please also watch a game of Goal Ball and let me know your impressions.
3. Parents -- mine are in town. They're adorable. They keep wearing cargo pants and new shoes purchased especially for this trip. I also go to bed approximately 10 hours earlier when they're around.
4. Fondue -- Seriously? Bread and melted cheese for dinner? For 50 francs? Fondue? More like fondon't. We fondidn't.
5. Swiss cheese -- No dad, they have other kinds of cheese there too [Switzerland].
Give the people what they want:
Just in the midst of an exhausting bout of travel which has already seen me in Frankfurt and Stockholm, sees me off to Paris tonight, Zurich on Thursday, and Basel and Interlaken at the weekend (with the 'rents).
Here are my city guides to this point:
Frankfurt -- finance.hotels.taxis.hookers.applewine.
Stockholm -- best.city.ever.
