Best Of bmac

‘Sup?

Yes, this blog is all but dead. Surprisingly, people still come here. Random searches mostly, and some new retards from The Hostages who weren’t around when this place was active. For all my new freinds who are too lazy to troll through the archives, I thought I’d put together a “Best Of” so people wouldn’t think I was always the miserable bastard the last month or so of the posting I did before I stopped seemed to represent.

To access the comments, just click on the title of the post.

I wanted to give an overview of what I did here for a year and a half.

Hope you like it!

First, let’s do funny:

Ummm…We Already Have A Michael Moore…But Thanks

Posted by bmac on April 17, 2008

Morgan Spurlock, the handlebar moustached Moore wannabe jackass, has made a timely movie about..get this..where is Bin Laden. Oh man, that’s really edgy dude! (If you don’t remember him, he made the anti-McDonalds “Super-Size Me”)

See? He’s “looking” for Bin Laden! HaHaHaHaHa!!! What a card!

You know what’s the most offensive thing about this guy? His totally condescending use of facial hair. You know damn well he wouldn’t have that dumb ass moustache if it wasn’t an outright slap in the face to the very people he claims (like Moore) to be “for.”

Attention any lost soul who thinks this guy is on your side: He’s mocking you. His moustache is a direct “fuck you” right to your face. His moustache thinks your moustache is is a dumb hick. His moustache is a poser. Your moustache would kick his moustaches ass if your moustache knew what his moustache really thinks of you.

His moustache drinks Pino, and eats stinky foreign cheese, and really likes it. His moustache wouldn’t drink a Bud if it were dying of thirst, and wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire, because his moustache is a big city “ironic” handlebar moustache, and if there’s anything his moustache really hates, it’s inbred hillbilly non-ironic handlebar moustaches that are on fire.

Don’t be fooled middle American handle bar moustaches, Morgan Spurlock’s moustache just wants to use you to finance his expensive tastes in everything you probably don’t like, and it’s laughing at you, as only a rich, ironic, New York City handlebar moustache can.

You’ve been warned.

Update: Thanks Cuffy, and hello LGF’ers!

Help yourself to a beer, they’re in the fridge.

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That retarded post actually got linked to LGF, via Cuffy Meigs.

How about some Franken Abuse, that was always fun:

Failing Upward With Al Franken

Posted by bmac on April 30, 2008

Comedian-Turned-Candidate Franken To Pay 70,000 In Back Taxes

There’s two things wrong here. First, referring to Al Franken as a “comedian.” Sorry, but being Lorne Michaels mercy fuck for 20 years does not qualify one as a “comedian.”

Second, how the fuck does this guy make enough money to owe $70,000? Who pays him? Why do they pay him? Al Franken has never succeeded at anything, ever. He produced the biggest bomb in SNL movie history, “Stuart Smalley,” and that’s saying something. More people were willing to sit through the cinematic nightmare of “It’s Pat!” than were willing to have to endure looking at Al Franken for 2 hours. “The Ladies Man” laughs at Al Franken. Chris fucking Kattan kicks Al Frankens ass at the box office. You just can’t fail more than that.

Oh wait, if you’re Al Franken, you certainly can fail more than that. Just get on the radio at Air America.

They used to broadcast about 2 hours a night of Frankens Air America show on Sundance late nights. I tried to watch it once. Once. They should use tapes of this on prisoners at Guantanamo. They’d be begging for the sweet relief of waterboarding. Franken is the albatross around the neck of hope, hope that you can make a dollar after hiring Al Franken.

Franken should be an adjective to describe losing your ass. Like, “Oh man, I got Franken’d in Vegas.” Or, “Damn, I bought stock in Segway Scooters, I totally got Franken’d” Or even, “Someone stole you credit cards? Cancel ‘em before they Franken you!”

I am beyond baffled that anyone would actually pay Al Franken to do anything but NOT show up anywhere near anything that could have any possible potential of making any money whatsoever.

Minnesota, you’ve been warned. Do not get Franken’d.

This guy has been in the public eye for nearly 30 years, and has yet to do a single thing of note aside from being a total jackass loser.

Wait…now that I think about it, he’s MORE than qualified to be a U.S. Senator. 

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How about some Global Warming:

Gaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!! Part 2-OMFG!!!!!!!!

Posted by bmac on June 13, 2008

Ted Turner predicted global cannibalism. Now ABC News wants you to shit your pants over global warming.

I guess since we don’t really have to worry about global thermonuclear war anymore, a one degree rise in the Earths temperature will just have to be scary enough.

Are we living in the last century of our civilization? Is it possible that all of our technology, knowledge and wealth cannot save us from ourselves? Could our society actually be heading towards collapse?

Gaaaahhh!!!! OMFG!!!!!

According to many of the world’s top scientists, the answer is yes, unless we take action now.

Now? Like right now? Cause I got a barbeque to go to later.

Experts say that extreme changes in climate, combined with dwindling resources, famine, war and disease have the potential to create a post-apocalyptic world in less than a hundred years. Harvard University and Woods Hole climatologist John Holdrens says we cannot continue going down the same path.

GAAAAAHHHH!!!!! OMFG!!! *furiously putting empty Coke can in recycle bin*

“If we continue on business as usual, we are going to see more floods, more droughts, more heat waves, more wildfires, more ice melting, faster sea level rise,” Holdren said.

So WE control the weather? We can stop floods and droughts, (wait…floods AND droughts?) I wish somebody had told me we controlled the weather before I had to deal with a couple rainy days on my last vacation.

Ok, I’m calming down, we can stop the Apocalypse, it’s within our power to stave off the END OF THE WORLD. I’m feeling a little better, tell me more ABC.

“We really have less than a decade to start getting this right. If we’re still dragging our feet in 2015 I think it really becomes at that point almost impossible for the world to avert a degree of climate change that we simply will not be able to manage without intolerable cost and consequences.”

Gaaaahhhhh!!!!!! OMFG!!!!! 2015 people!!! Seven years!!! Seven years to “Start getting it right” or we’re all DOOMED, DOOMED!!!!!!!

Everything that’s ever happened in the history of mankind swings in the balance of the next seven years. All we’ve done, all we’ve created, all we are will CEASE TO EXIST, if we don’t do……… something or other, by 2015. Listen to me now people, if you care at all about the very future of mankind, you better start doing whatever the fuck “getting it right” means, and you better start doing whatever that may be IMMEDIATELY!!

I’m starting now, I’m gonna start “getting it right” this very minute.

Just as soon as I figure out what the fuck that even means.

*Cross posted at DPUD*

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Legalizing Marijuana:

Dude…That’s My Skull!

Posted by bmac on April 21, 2008

“4/20 Smoke Out In Colorado Draws 10,000″

You know what the main obstacle is for getting marijuana legalized? Pot smokers are the advocates.

About 15 CU officers and a half-dozen deputies with the Boulder County Sheriff’s Office had a presence Sunday among the mass of pot smokers, who bounced giant balls and tossed Frisbees through the haze.

“We really think pot should be legalized because…….Look! A ball! A big ass ball! Look at it BOUNCING! Hey.. a Frisbee!!……Dude….Dude! What was I saying?”

CU freshman Emily Benson, 19, of Kansas City, said she thinks the decriminalization of marijuana will become a hot topic in the upcoming political season and said she felt part of something bigger than just a smoke-out on Sunday.

“We’re at the starting point of a movement,” she said. “This is a big part of the reason I applied here — for the weed atmosphere.”

“This is a big part of the reason I applied here — for the weed atmosphere.” When deciding on a College, “the weed atmosphere” is important. Nothing stifles higher learning like a shitty weed atmosphere. Everybody knows that.

Entrepreneur Barrett Betz, 20, conceived of the potential financial benefit 4/20 holds earlier this year, and sold peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Hostess snack cakes and bottled water for a $1.

“Peanut butter and jelly!” he screamed to passers-by who were parched and eager to satisfy their munchies. “I’m doing very well.”

One woman was hopeful Betz’s treats were charged with some special ingredients.

“Are these magical?” she asked, only to be disappointed. “Why aren’t you selling magical ones? I mean, it’s cool — but c’mon.”

Yeah, I mean, c’mon, why the fuck would you eat a peanut butter and jelly sammich that wasn’t loaded with hallucinogenics? Dude….Dude.

It wasn’t all bouncy balls, Frisbees and non-hallucinogenic PB&J’s, some students saw the opportunity to drop some science on the throng of super high kids partying on 4/20, cause you know, that’s when they’re most receptive to big bouncy balls, Frisbees, and the genocide in Darfur.

Although CU junior Max Lichtenstein, 21, isn’t into marijuana or smoking, he also felt Sunday’s event was a chance to do something “bigger” than himself. He passed out 126 Rice Krispies treats with messages attached asking that they act out against the injustices in Darfur.

“Tomorrow, when you’re sober … call the White House at 202-456-1414,” the note read.

See? There’s hope for these kids yet! If every single one of those high ass kids that inhaled one of Max’s Rice Krispie Treats calls the White House, well, let’s just say I hope the operators can handle 126 calls in a single day! Hold on Darfur, hold on! 126 wasted college kids might remember to call the White House today…..maybe….if nothing’s on the Cartoon Network, or they didn’t eat the phone number.

If not, just remember that someone cared enough to hand out 126 Rice Krispie Treats to a bunch of stoned college kids to help you….to help you. Or to get laid, it may have been to get laid, but still. Dude..Dude.

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This was a really fun one, the infamous “Numbers Stations.”

The Really Cool, Spy “Numbers Stations” ……For Spies

Posted by bmac on May 23, 2008

I’ve posted about these before, but I got nothin’ to bitch about today, and it’s Friday, so let’s have some fun with:

The Spooky Numbers Stations.

I love these things. Most of you are probably aware of these, but if you’re not, here’s a Wiki definition of these shortwave spy stations, which were discovered in the 70’s, when short wave radios became popular, and people started to find these bizarre broadcasts that seemed to make no sense. Some of them had been on the air since as far back as WWI.

They generally broadcast voices reading streams of numbers, words, letters (sometimes using a radio alphabet), tunes or Morse code.

The voices that can be heard on these stations are often mechanically generated. They are in a wide variety of languages, and the voices are usually women’s, though sometimes men’s or children’s voices are used.

They’re also incredibly spooky sounding, and for some reason, many of them use music, like tinkly music box music, which just adds to the creepiness. Or tinkly music box music with a little girls voice reading numbers in a foreign language, which when combined with the static of shortwave, makes the hair on your arms stand up. Some horror movies have used these things as background to add a disturbing element you can’t quite put your finger on.

Check out this one, called “The Swedish Rhapsody”, but listen to the whole thing, because it gets creepier as you go. This is the one with the little girls voice, and the creepy tinkle music.

This one here, is just fucking disturbing.

Here’s one with just numbers.

This one inspired the title of the band Wilco’s album “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.”

I always picture a spy with a little radio sitting in some dank foreign basement with like a candle on the table, as evil Russian spies are closing in on him, listening to this message and writing it down on a piece of paper he’s gonna eat later when they catch up to him. I also wonder how these messages are translated, and by that I mean, what could 1,5,8,4,2,7, possibly mean? How much information could be in those numbers?

Many of these stayed on the air for 20-40 years, which makes me wonder if the spy ever got it, or was captured.

Even weirder, was that little girls voice and tinkly music an order to kill someone? Did that sequence of numbers lead to one, or many deaths? My simple mind reels with the possibilities.

The other really cool thing about these, and why they’re still in use today, is that these codes are 100% unbreakable. The spy and his handler were (are) the only two people that have the code, known as a “One time pad.” A spy almost anywhere in the world without the use of a trackable phone, could simply pick up a widely available shortwave radio, and receive messages from his handler.

If you’re really man enough, listen to a bunch of these, late at night, in the dark, by yourself.

It’s spooky cause it’s true.

Interesting fact: In the U.K., it’s illegal to listen to them on a radio.

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This post has generated the most hits on a single post in the year and a half of this blog. Always the top post on the sidebar:

Sean Penn & Alexander Supertramp

Posted by bmac on December 4, 2007

Yesterday I was flicking through channels on TV, and came across an episode of “Iconoclasts” on the Sundance channel, featuring Sean Penn and John Krakauer. Normally I would move on, but I thought I’d see what lunacy Penn had to spew for possible blog fodder, and the Krakauer guy (an adventurer and writer)  seemed kind of interesting. These two were brought together by the subject of a book written by Krakauer, and now a film by Penn, Chris McCandless, AKA “Alexander Supertramp.”

The story of McCandless is a faint blip on my radar, as he died in 1992 on an ill-fated journey into the Alaskan wilderness, and I had forgotten completely about it, till I saw this show, and found myself fascinated by this kid’s story. The short version:

McCandless, from a wealthy family, graduated college, cut up his credit cards, burned his social security card, donated his savings of 24,000 dollars to charity, cut ties with his family, and hit the road for two years, and ultimately ended up in the wild of Alaska, where he starved to death in an abandoned bus that was his makeshift home for 112 days. He documented his travels with pictures and a journal. Excerpts from his journal appear in Krakauers book, but only a few of his photo’s have been released by his family, including this one, self taken in front of the bus he died in, before things went south for him.

You can read the full story here.    

Unbeknownst to me, this kid has become a cult hero of sorts, due to Krakauer’s bestselling book “Into The Wild,” and now the film by Penn will further add to his mythic status among young idealists. I’m not sure why I’m fascinated by this story, because the kid was a bit of an idiot, and at the end of the day, basically committed suicide, but I’m fascinated nonetheless.

The bus McCandless died in, originally put there as a shelter for hunters, has become a destination for like minded idealists, and surprisingly, remains virtually as he left it, with his belongings still inside after 15 years. I say surprisingly because hippie worshipers usually grotesquely deface the shrines of their heroes, ala Jim Morrison’s grave, but maybe the remote location makes it hard for any but the most zealous seekers to get to.

When McCandless failed to get out of the wild, due to an uncrossable river, (because of melting glaciers), he began to starve, and finally, realizing he was about to die, took one last picture of himself, rail thin, smiling, and holding a sign that read:

“I have had a happy life and thank the Lord. Goodbye and may God bless all.”

Tragic. This picture is heartbreaking to me, and even though it’s his own fault, I feel sorry for this kid. I don’t find anything heroic about dying alone of starvation in an old bus deep in the Alaskan wild. On the other hand, I have some level of respect for people that take chances in life, and accept the consequences as McCandless clearly did. He wasn’t looking to be a hero, but the likes of Sean Penn are gonna try and turn this tragic story into something it wasn’t.

McCandless was a hard core lefty, and the fact he burned his social security card, and gave his life savings to charity and “dropped out” is what has fueled the interest in him, especially from Penn. From what I can tell, Krakauers book doesn’t necessarily glamorize McCandless, because it points out all the bad decisions McCandless made that eventually took his life. Penn on the other hand, is trying to make McCandless a hero to his core audience, the Looney Left, and environmentalist types, many of whom will undoubtedly set out on their own journeys trying to ape McCandless, and some will surely end badly. I’ve seen the trailer, (which I won’t post here) and Penn clearly glamorizes McCandless as a kind of modern day Kerouac, instead of the somewhat hapless dreamer that McCandless was.

Watching Penn during this one hour show, in which he and Krakauer re-trace McCandless’ Alaskan journey, it was obvious what an angry, miserable prick Sean Penn really is. At one point while they’re in a tiny town in Alaska, a girl who is having her Bachelorette party recognizes Penn, and asks for a picture. Penn responds by being totally put out, as if in this tiny little town in Alaska, he’s gonna be over run by fans. Which is laughable, because earlier in the show, he was carded trying to buy liquor. I feel sorry for Penn’s family, he must be a million laughs to be around.

As much as I don’t think McCandless was or should be any kind of hero, at least he had the balls a Sean Penn will never have. It’s easy to sit back on millions of dollars, and make a movie about a kid who willingly walked away from civilization to his own death, and act like he’s some kind of role model. I wonder if Penn would encourage his own kids to do it, because his movie is gonna encourage other people’s kids to go on a trip that some may not come back from. Will you take responsibilty for that Sean?

 

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This is my visit to an historical house designed and built by Frank Lloyd Wright: 

Frank Lloyd Wright, And How To Kill An Afternoon

Posted by bmac on March 7, 2008

I was in L.A. yesterday, just for the day. Can’t really say why, but it was a paying gig. And yes, it was legal. I had the afternoon to kill, so I took a little field trip to see one of only four houses in all of Los Angeles designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. All the houses he designed there had a similar theme, a Mayan block motif.

I find myself fascinated by these houses, not only because I love Wrights design, but because they have an ominous, almost menacing look to them. The house I went to, the Ennis-Brown House, has been used in a bunch of movies for just that reason. It was featured in the original “House on Haunted Hill”, and it’s most famous cameo, Harrison Fords house in ”Blade Runner.”

       

This house is currently in very bad dis-repair. Built around 1924, the materials Wright chose are composite blocks that aren’t weathering too well, and the ‘94 Northridge quake as well as the 2005 deluge of rain that hit L.A. have taken their toll on this amazing piece of architectural history.

When I was there, there were only one or two guys working inside (The public can’t go in) but I understand it’s being renovated with donations from the public. My pictures don’t really capture the massiveness of this house, it’s enormous, taking up almost an entire block, and it’s no easy feat to get to. It sits high up in the hills of Los Feliz, just below the Griffith observatory, and the view is breathtaking, a panoramic of all of Los Angeles.

I like the little details that are uniquely Wright, like this porch light.  

I wish I got a less cluttered view, but click on it to see a little better. It’s a small thing, but here’s this stupid little porch light that was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, kind of lost within this massive structure. Simple, but unmistakably FLW.

Or this doorbell.   Here it is in context.

Each block is 16 inches, if that gives you an idea of the size.

Just down the hill from this house, is a house designed by Frank Lloyd Wright Jr. that I thought I’d check out while I was in the neghborhood, the Sowden House, which is also Mayan themed, and has been used in a zillion TV shows and movies.

  

It’s got the added attraction of being somewhat infamous, when it was recently tied to the Black Dhalia murder, by the son of the guy who owned it in the 40’s. He maintains she was killed and mutilated in this house. By his father. There were people in it, ( I believe you can rent it out nightly or weekly) so I couldn’t get too close, or linger around.

These houses evoke a kind of film noir darkness of old Los Angeles, old Hollywood, probably best captured in a film like “L.A. Confidential,” that I find fascinating. In fact, the Sowden House was used in L.A. Confidential. There must have been some twisted parties that went down in these houses.

Anyway, hope this isn’t too boring, but I enjoyed it.

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This one was also on the top posts sidebar consistently. People get really upset over fucking tattoos:

Tattoo’s Are Cool

Posted by bmac on June 6, 2007

I watch a lot of T.V. Last night I ran across an episode of “Miami Ink,” a reality show about a tattoo parlor, that I find mildly entertaining from time to time. It’s interesting to me how mainstream tattoo’s have become, or should I say, trendy. As kind of an ex-rebel myself, I get the allure of tattoo’s, but when 15-year olds are walkin around totally sleeved, it kinda loses it’s outlaw appeal. When I was a kid, the only guys with tattoo’s, were bikers, sailors, and criminals, real badasses, guys you didn’t mess with. For them, tattoo’s were a badge, a badge that said “I remove myself from society, I’m not part of your world.” I get that. Today, you’d be hard pressed to find a 16-year old girl without one.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti-tattoo, there are some amazing artists who do amazing pieces on people, but they are expensive, and most people don’t have those types of tattoo’s. Most people have the same stupid, trendy tattoo’s like: Chinese characters, coi fish, tribal bands, and my personal favorite: The Memorial Portrait. I understand “Miami Ink” is a reality show, and they have to create some drama, but every idiot has to have some deep, personal, facing their demons kind of reason to get Daffy Duck tattooed on their forearm.

Back to The Memorial Portrait. These strike me as particularly offensive. It seems incredibly morbid to me, to have for instance, a portrait of your dead son on your arm, for the rest of your life. I get that you may be heartbroken, after a tragedy like losing a child, but tattooing their image on your body, forever, seems to me, the worst possible memorial. It’s the worst possible memorial because it’s totally narcissistic. That tattoo becomes more about you than the person you’re supposedly memorialising. Every time someone sees that tattoo, you get to tell your tragic story. People will feel sorry for you. It’s just one more way to have this kind of “fake” empathy, that’s really all about being selfish.

Which brings me to another phenomenon I’ve noticed recently, memorials at sites where people have died. I get it if it’s Ground Zero, or Columbine, or VT. I get the families of the deceased doing it. But these things are springing up everywhere, and they’re huge. It’s as if some people wait for a tragedy to happen so they can rush right out, and stick a teddy bear on the side of the road.

About a year ago, a little girl, 2 or 3 years old, was found deceased in a dumpster. She had been beaten to death by her parents. A horrible tragedy. It was a big story in this town. Pretty quickly, that dumpster became hallowed ground. There were literally hundreds and hundreds of teddy bears, candles, and various children’s toys completely engulfing that dumpster, all left by people that never knew or cared about that little girl when she was alive. I feel bad for that poor little girl, I really do, but I have to wonder about people who do this kind of thing. The kind of people who after seeing this on the news, feel compelled to go out, shop for a toy or stuffed animal, for the morbid purpose of placing it at a crime scene for someone they didn’t know. I think they do it for selfish reasons, that “fake empathy” I mentioned earlier. Somehow, they’re “good” people because they just care so much. It’s sort of like Munchhausen by Memorial.

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This one drew a fuckhead troll, and I got called a homophobe. Good Times:

This Is Why People Are Against Gay Marriage

Posted by bmac on June 6, 2008

Lesbians upset because they were asked to stop “making out” at a Seattle Mariners game.

Most of the time, a kiss is just a kiss in the stands at Seattle Mariners games. The crowd hardly even pays attention when fans smooch.

But then last week, a lesbian complained that an usher at Safeco Field asked her to stop kissing her date because it was making another fan uncomfortable.

According to a Mariners press release, they were told they could kiss, but were asked to “Tone it down” not an unreasonable request. The release says the women responded to the simple request like this:

The women refused to modify their behavior, began swearing at the seating hosts and complained that they were being singled out for their sexual orientation,” the club said.

This is one of the women.

This has apparently stirred up OUTRAGE from the gay community, so let’s start with some douche from a group called “Equal Rights Washington”:

Certain individuals have not yet caught up. Those people see a gay or lesbian couple and they stare or say something,” said Josh Friedes of Equal Rights Washington. “This is one of the challenges of being gay. Everyday things can become sources of trauma.”

Trauma? Look you fucking crybabies, has it ever occurred to you selfish assholes, that maybe, just maybe, some people don’t want to have to explain homosexuality to their 8 year-old at a baseball game? You want respect? Have some respect for others.

Homosexuals kissing at a major league baseball game is inappropriate, it’s rude, it’s disruptive and it’s disrespectful, and gay people with any class whatsoever know it. If you can’t be bothered to have even the most basic respect for common civility, for the wishes of the majority of people at a baseball game, then fuck you.

But wait, it still gets even better, when “sex advice” columnist Dan Savage, who writes for one of the Seattle alternative papers has to chime in:

“They (the Mariners) go out of their way to say it’s a quote-unquote family setting,” Savage said. “As a gay season-ticket holder, we’ve never been quite sure what that means exactly. I constantly see people see making out. My son has noticed and asked, `Do they show the ballgame on women’s foreheads?’”

First of all, what the fuck does “gay” have to do with “season ticket holder.” Unless there’s a gay season I don’t know about, you’re either a season ticket holder, or not. Secondly, Mr. Savage knows damn well what a “Family Setting” is, and yes fuckface, there’s a difference between homosexuals and heterosexuals kissing at a major league baseball game and you know it.

You assholes do nothing to further your own cause, or get anyone to feel sympathy for you. It’s precisely this kind of childish, selfish, rude disruptive behavior that puts people off, and then you have the fucking nerve to whine about discrimination.

This is a prime example of why gay marriage is going to be a major problem. Imagine the lawsuits that will be thrown around when a gay married couple wants to make out in ANY “family” setting, and if they are asked to tone it down.

Post-Election Ranting

We crossed a line tonight.

We crossed a line into a very different country. Yes, it was an historic night. It was the night America sold out everything we ever stood for. The night 40 years of liberal indoctonation took firm hold of the soul of this once great country. The night the terrorists won. Don’t worry about an attack now, what would be the point? Only seven years after 9-11, we elected a guy named Barack Hussein Obama. We lost.

We elected the European model. We elected appeasement. We elected a celebrity instead of a leader. The chickens of Paris Hilton, TMZ, Pam Anderson, Jerry Springer, and Oprah have come home to roost. Congratulations America, and shame on you. You bought a Yugo. Didn’t even test drive it.

Obama’s not the problem. Spoiled, ignorant Americans are the problem. A Republican Party so eager to sell us out, to “lesser of two evils” us into Socialism, to stand for nothing, is the problem.

There is no Republican Party, we knew that when we got hoodwinked into McCain, and we did get hoodwinked. We are a one party system now folks. Democracy died today after a four year battle with cancer. A cancer that started with Bush’s second term. A cancer of RINO’s led by John McCain, and helped along by Bush. A cancer of a media that is literally PRAVDA. A cancer that is now inoperable.

We have become everything we ever despised as Americans. Tonight, we lost our independence, our free thinking, and our self reliance. The MSM is now our Master. And we Obeyed.

Republicans lost pretty much across the board tonight, and I can’t help but think it was by design. I have no other explanation for such fucking incompetence. McCain was a joke, and Repubs in general bent over for the ass-fucking of a lifetime. At our expense.

I had hopes a McCain loss could mean a regrouping of the Republican Party, but now I’m not sure it matters. We’re too stupid for a responsible, accountable government. We proved it tonight. The crowning of this Manchurian Candidate, a guy with so much dirt on him he made Edwards look like Reagan, an untested, unaccomplished, terrorist sympathiser with no aquaintance that was not a criminal/America hating/anti-semite/felon, or general malcontent, is truly frightening.

We lost more than an election tonight, we lost our soul as a nation.

Actually, we didn’t lose it, we gave it away.

Don’t Fire Bill Maher

Hi! Not blogging much, (at all) but I was looking through some of my old drafts, and came across this one that I thought was pretty funny, that I never posted for some reason. Not exactly ripped from todays headlines, but Bill Maher is a pathetic, unfunny Smurfheaded fuckface, so mocking him is always fun. This is from earlier in the year when Maher tried to be outrageous by comparing the Pope to a Nazi. A little exercise in creative writing. Enjoy!

Just ignore him.

Of course he’s not going to apologize, why would he do that? He lives for these kind of stupid “controversies.” It’s no wonder he and Ann Coulter are friends, I think they probably get together for “outrageous comment” brainstorming sessions. I imagine it like this:

Maher: “Having D.L. Hughley as a guest every week on a political show is killin’ me Ann. People get it, he’s black, and says “muthafucka” a lot. It doesn’t piss people off like it used to. They’re getting bored. I gotta outrage some Catholics….let’s see….Pedophilia jokes? That always pisses them off. How about…ummm….the Pope likes little Vienna sausages! Get it? He’s a German Pope! Little Vienna sausages! Vienna is German right? Oh man I’m fuckin’ brilliant! Hang on a second, I gotta get rid of this seventeen year old I scooped up at the Mansion last night, she thinks I’m Brad Pitts manager. How funny is that? I’m just glad I got her before Scott Baio got there, fuckin’ cock blocker. Ok, what do you got? And remember, I need a doozy, the hot and cold running underage poon ain’t flowin’ like it used to, know what I mean?”

Coulter: Let’s see, I already used “Faggot,” so I’m owning that one. Ummm…German Pope….German…German….Hitler! Everybody hates Hitler! Call him a pedophilic Hitler! Catholic League will come unglued. You’ll get like thirty more viewers easy. Wait, wait….I got something….Hitler…Hitler…liked dogs..no..no…painted a lot…no…was a Nazi…WAIT! THAT’S IT! NAZI!! Call him a Nazi! The Pope is a Nazi, and throw in some kind of faggy catch phrase like “Were here, were queer, get used to it.” But do not use the word “faggot,” it’s mine. Oh…one more thing…..call the Catholic Church a cult. That really freaks people out. That way you get everything in, Nazi, Gay Pedophilia, and Cult. No brainer. I just wish I could think of a way to get guns in there, but I’m just not feelin’ it.”

Maher: “You’re brilliant! If you were only 35 years younger, really stupid, and had giant fake cans, I could totally see us hookin’ up…like once…after a few cocktails. Pope……Nazi…..I hate Popes and Nazis! I can really add some plausible believability to this one, I might even title my next horrible HBO standup “Mein Pope!” That’ll get me like two more solid years of bangin’ stupid wannabe Playmates right off the bus that can’t find Scott Baio! I’ll get my pool boy right on hammering this out, he’s hilarious!”

Coulter: “Good luck! Gotta go, I’m working on a clever way to call Hillary a Cunt.

And…..End scene.

I hope you like my little attempt at creative writing there, I spent a whole 40 minutes on it. Maher is a jackass that goes out of his way to say outrageous things, because he’s not funny and he knows it. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Coulter fed him lines, she’s way funnier than he is. Have you ever noticed how similar their style is?

R.I.P Maxine Frasella June 19th, 1995 – Sept. 2, 2008

Hello friends and fellow animal lovers of ours. We are sad to tell the news that on Tuesday the 2nd, we had to let go of our sweet sassy sue love child, Maxine Frasella (aka. Max Fras), so she could go meet her brother, the ever famous, Kramer at the Rainbow Bridge. Its been a bitch of a year for us and just when I think that nothing can possibly happen because of the amount of crap that we have dealt with which is more than our fair share, something else major happens that was totally unexpected. BTW, this is Mrs. Bmac, not my husband, Bmac, so what you are about to read is from my mouth. I just thought I should mention it was me since I am so mouthy lately, you could have trouble telling us apart. The only difference is that I seem to be the only one so far in our Mac team who has aquired what I am calling “My Turrets” after enduring all this shit. “My Turrets” is when I blurt stuff out or it seems to indadvertently just fly out of my mouth without thinking of how it may be percieved, who it may hurt, or how it might make me look. My turrets usually flares up at the most inappropriate times. I’m sure that Bmac would love for someone to invent some type of mouth tampon for me.

Just to give you an idea of what has actually been going on with The Bmac’s in 2008, up until Tuesday when we had to let go of Maxine, I will give you a short list of things we have been forced to face. We have had a tremendous amount of loss this year. I don’t want to appear as being a Debbie Downer because I’m the furthest thing from that. Seriously. I have just come to the realization that life is actually a cruel comedy and now I am starring in the 2008 series of it with Bmac as my unlucky sidekick. This is the time in life when you learn that good looks can’t even help you anymore and you find yourself living life with your hands blocking your face.

Ok, now to my “short list” (or is it?) I promised you:

First of all, my mom dying at the end of January almost took me down. Almost. Yeah, almost. Actually, every day I am still really challenged with it. I just try to bury it better so I don’t make others crazy. Even though she was sick and I knew it was going to happen, everything I thought I would feel and think, didn’t happen how I thought it would. Not even close. It sucks-it hurts really deep and is a pain never felt before-but no one else feels it with you-you feel totally alone-the end. The biggest shocker for me had to be how quiet everything got. One day the earth was spinning around like normal, when suddenly, it stopped like someone pulled the emergency brake and you hadn’t braced for it. I miss her every day and I hate that pain that goes along with it. Its something you can’t shake off.

Then, 13 days later on February 8th, Kramer dies at home in the arms of Bmac. Wow! Another thing that I really love? The shocker for that one was that he didn’t even die from his cancer. He was in remission! What the hell was happening here? Our little precious boy was gone. Just like that! His little heart just gave out. How long did he have a heart problem without us knowing! What the fuck was going on?

You would think it would end there but apparently that is NOT how this is going to play out for us. In late February, Bmac had to close up the doors to his business he had worked hard at building for the past 3 years. Hey everybody! Wanna play a game and try and guess why Bmac had to close his business that he slaved at for 6 days a week. Was it: 1. the economy, 2. someone thought it would be funny to see the looks on our faces, 3. that’s how the Bmac’s roll, or 4. all of the above.

I can’t speak for Bmcac but I think this may around the time I had officially lost my mind because all of a sudden it was March 1st and we driving an hour from here to pick up a homeless German Shorthaired Pointer. The GSP rescue called and asked if we could drive and pick him up and temporarily foster him for them. He had been wandering around for 3 weeks in some little town and no one seemed to know where he came from. It was sad that this little guy had no place to call home.

We decided to call him Mikey. Oh, sorry. I am getting ahead of the story. How it actually happened was about 2 weeks after Kramer was gone, I called my friend at the GSP rescue and told him that our house was so quiet without Kramer and we knew we were going to have to have another one at some point. That is when we hear that they had already set aside a dog for us who they think will be perfect for us named Gunner but knew I was busy packing my mom’s house up so didn’t tell us before then. The next week they called and asked if we could go get Mikey, or as we also like to refer to him, the homeless hobo dog, and foster him until we get up to the rescue. Sure, no problem. That’s we learned the true meaning of the word foster. It means giving them up at some point. Saying bye. Never knowing them longer than that short time. That’s the part that we couldn’t seem to do. Plus, I didn’t know how I was going to pry Mikey off of Bmac. Or was it pry Bmac off of Mikey? Whatever, they were attached at the hip. Did it really matter at that point. No. What really mattered at the time for me was that Bmac told me that if we could keep Mikey, I could still get Gunner. Woo Hoo! We never once thought that if we did that, it would mean 3 dogs! 3 large dogs? Thinking was something that we heard about other people doing but we were too busy to try it ourselves. Exactly 2 weeks after driving to pick up Mikey, we were now on our way to California, with Mikey in tow, but just to take a ride in the car, to rescue Gunner. I know what you are thinking. Idiots. Hey but Maxine was so happy when Mikey came home she would be really excited to have another young psycho dog named Gunner running around the house. She did have a new spring in her step with the new youngsters around. It was obvious that she was morning Kramer too.

When April rolled around, I had another death to deal withwhen a friend of mine died unexpectedly at 43 years of age. I mean, honestly. Come on? Does this ever stop? Life and all the crap that was happening was getting a little out of control and obviously no one seemed to hear me standing outside with my megaphone and screaming “UNCLE!” at the top of my lungs.

I was hoping and praying Maxine would make it until next year. Max was 13 years old but she was tough. I actually was the one who picked her out of the litter. She was Bmac’s dog and got her from our good friends who’s Chocolate Lab mama named Abbi and Yellow Lab daddy named George, just had a litter of nine little pups. This was well before Bmac and I even started dating. Max was great yet a handfull for Bmac. She was very loving, yet incredibly independent, and the most hard-headed bitch you ever met. She never did a single thing in her life she didn’t feel like doing, and it if she did, she only did it exactly when she felt like doing it. She ran the house, or so it seemed. From birth until about 3 years old, she was an absolute terror; a shredding machine that destoyed everything in her path. Bmac almost gave her away about 3000 times. He was reaching his wits end with her. Also, that girl had an iron stomach. She once ate a pair of glasses made with real glass that our friend Marnie had just gotten that day. She ingested them glass and all. She dug about a million holes in the yard in search of finding all the sources of where there was water. She was successful at it too. Bmac didn’t want that sprinkler system anyways so it was no big deal. I think she had something internal built into her that would be similar to those “Stud Finder” things that most guys have in their tool box. You know, its that one thingy they like to point at themselves and pretend they have found a stud instead of finding the stud in the wall. What most of our friends that would come over remember best is that she LOVED beer. If anyone gave her the littlest bit of beer, she was stuck to their side for the rest of the night. She would bark at them until they gave her more. She was a bit of a boozer but wore it well. She also was a licker. She would lick you until you walked away soaking wet, but hated being fussed over or loved on. SHE dispensed the love, not you. You were good to go as soon as you learned that from her.

She lived longer than either of her parents or siblings did, so obviously I chose well. She was never sick, or got hurt, she was a tank. I would get up at 4 in the morning and walk her and Kramer for 3 1/2 miles every day for many years. In 13 years, we can count on one hand how many trips she had to the vet, which she HATED with a passion.

We’re gonna miss stepping over you in the kitchen Max, where you loved to plop down right in our way, refusing to move. Or the hallway, or the bathroom, or the back patio in the morning. We will especially miss seeing you in your favorite place at the front door, where guests had to step over you to enter “your” house, and how dare they think you’re gonna move for them.

She loved “the boys” too. They were such a pain in the ass but she loved having them around and they were her pains in the asses. She loved keeping them in line and we thought it was keeping her young. So did the vet!

God speed to Kramer, our sweet little froggie sue! You were the reason we fell in love with and wanted more dogs. You were how we got Kramer. You will be forever remembered and we will meet again down the road. We love you more than we can express!

I suppose we should have realized that there was no way that the planets would realign and make life easier for us and maybe things could slow down a bit so we wouldn’t have to bend over and take yet another horrible experience up our asses without a kiss. I would have even taken just a hug if that was offered as an option. I will continue to scream UNCLE! Why the hell is no one responding? You’d think I’d know better by know. Life sucks right now, but it can only get better from here. Right?

Look at the list of the good stuff in 2008:

1. Hey, there is Wicked Pinto! Yippee!

Wussup?

How’s everybody doin? Haven’t been around these parts much lately. There’s a few reasons for that, including a new job, spending time in the gym, and generally trying to live a healthier lifestyle, physically and mentally.

One of the things about blogging about politics and news, is that it’s…….depressing. Constantly monitoring the news was really starting to bring me down, as it becomes a never-ending stream of idiotic bullshit, and frankly, I’m tired of being in a state of perpetual rage.

Instead, I’ve been concentrating on more positive things, eating better, smoking less, working out, and my new job which requires me to work a lot of swing and graveyard shifts, (that’s Vegas baby), so my time is split up all weird now.

I’m not sure how much blogging I’ll do in the coming weeks and months, but it will definitely not be on the level it was, maybe a post a week or something, if anyone is even still checking here at this point anyway.

Just thought I’d let y’all know.

Attn: George Clooney Is Speaking

Hey actors, listen up!

In a two-page letter released Thursday, Clooney adopted a neutral stance in the dispute between the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists and the Screen Actors Guild.

“A two page letter.” How much did his last movie lose? If he’s gonna write a two page letter, it should be an apology for his career.

In the “Hatfield and McCoy” war between Sag and Aftra, George Clooney shows us his “mad diplomacy skillz”, and why even though he can’t give away tickets to his own films, or make money for anyone, or show any reason whatsoever why he has a careeer at all, he’s the “go to guy” for advice to actors who actually make movies people want to see.

Tom Hanks, Alec Baldwin and others have joined hundreds of actors in signing an online petition urging actors to ratify the AFTRA pact.

Meanwhile, Jack Nicholson, Viggo Mortensen and Holly Hunter have endorsed a SAG ad calling for AFTRA to return to the negotiating table to get a better deal.

Clooney called the fight counterproductive.

“Because the one thing you can be sure of is that stories about Jack Nicholson vs. Tom Hanks only strengthens the negotiating power” of the studios, he said.

Clooney also called on higher-paid actors to chip in a greater share of union dues and for 10 A-listers — “people that the studio heads don’t often say ‘no’ to,” he suggested, listing only Nicholson and Hanks by name — to sit down with studio heads once a year to “adjust the pay for actors.”

Ha! Easy for him to ask the higher paid actors to cough up more union dues, he’s not one of them. His socialist tendencies are showing. What a pompous, fucking blowhard. I bet Carrot Top is in a higher tax bracket than Clooney. Seriously, that red headed freak sells out his theatre in Vegas every single night. At the very least, Carrot Top is financially viable, which is more than anyone can say about Clooney, who’s career is effectively over after his last box office debacle, and he’s already played his “Tarrantino Card.”

I bet Tom Hanks and Jack Nicholson have been sitting on pins and needles waiting for word from Mt. Clooney, to sagely tell them how to run their careers.

A Guest Post From A Former Staffer Of A Former President

Justine California (not her real name) was a Clinton staffer during his first term. I have no way to prove this, but based on email correspondence with her, I happen to believe this is true. You can decide for yourselves. She does not want to Hillary bash, or dish dirt, (sorry) but she has some good observations, as she has personal experience with the Clintons, something I think is pretty damn interesting. Instead of just having a Q&A, I suggested she write a post as a jumping off point, and let her pick the topic and roll with it. I think she did a pretty good job.

Small Cap CEO meets the Feudal Lord.   Justine California   Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton will campaign together this week. Yes, this event has everything to do with the title line above.  I don’t need to tell you who is whom. You already know.   Management style is something I do every day. I founded a tech startup last year, and it’s not my first. As an entrepreneurial, libertarian leaning Californian, my management style has a lot to do with everyone carrying their own bag, and taking responsibility for outcomes.   Before my tech startup life?  I was a young, underpaid Washington staffer. My pathway in the communications, event planning and fundraising realms did bring me into support roles for the Clinton administration for a time.     Why me? Because,  even though I was not at all a Democrat, I was young and for some reason willing to get paid almost nothing to get kicked around by glammed out feudal lords. I mean, the Clinton people. But the cool part is that this stunning medieval movie was seen up close and unrehearsed.   While the happenings, victories and defeats of both the Republican and Democratic primaries of 2008 have been thoroughly overanalyzed, I’ve seen less examination of the candidate’s internal management styles, financial policies and “corporate” choices than I perhaps wanted. Media analysis tends to favor a focus on each candidate’s outward presentation of issues, personality, persuasion, empathy, or fashion choices – rather than the essential internal building processes by which they are created.    But what about the gap between internal (campaign) and external (public) management styles? What about  that basic goal: running the company? I can design a great gadget, but if I cannot build, mobilize or sell that gadget, it doesn’t go anywhere.   If the gap is wide enough, an extraordinary amount of energy must be spent hiding – or at least compensating for – what’s going on inside, lest it contradict the outer brand and vision. Enough obsessive focus on the compensating, and you won’t see your own vision anymore.   That Hillary’s campaign suffered from such a huge gap is obvious.   But how much of this gap came from “learned and earned” behavior – from the ways of her husband’s presidency?   I offer my own viewpoint to this one. Hillary, in the eyes of many, and perhaps in her own eyes – was Bill Clinton’s Vice President. She ran from this long past – and secret -position, and from its learning. The strengths and weakness she exhibited on the trail are consistent with this viewpoint. She interestingly enough, did not run as a Senator, though she clearly is one.   I am not opening a Hillary bashing session . I am, as a female business owner and CEO, desirous of an eventual female presidency – ideally a more conservative candidate who shows Hillary’s level of grit and intellect.   But right now I’m looking at this from an MBA’s point of view.   Why does Obama clearly appear to be the better CEO of the two, the small cap, exponential growth pick? Why does Hillary appear as the walled-in, moated feudal lord, more about vassal loyalty than colleague merit? How did this happen internally? What is the Clinton business style defined by, and why is it so different from the Clinton public persona (I speak of both Clintons here.) What comparisons can you make to the corporate world to illustrate your view?   Due to my briefly Clintonic past, I may cite actual observations within this discussion. These observations are not metaphysical truths – they are merely the subjective viewpoints of a fly on the wall. But sometimes the fly on the wall sees more angles of the room than the invited guests at the dinner table. * *

12 Year Old Wins Car For “Good Attendance”

Just caught this on Fox, don’t have a link. This was in Chicago, where apparently, they’re offering incentives like iPods, laptops and fucking CARS, to get kids to do something they’re SUPPOSED to do, go to school.

Maybe we should get them a house for eating their vegetables.

We’re so doomed. The CEO of Chicago public schools is on with Shep Smith, trying to defend this asinine policy, and he said 85% of thier students are living below the poverty line, and “fighting huge, huge battles to get to school everyday.”

Really? Is it a “huge battle” to walk into a fucking classroom? Sorry, it’s just not that hard. I don’t care how poor you are. This is so ass backwards, we might as well close every school in Chicago right now.

I caught a documentary on HBO last night called “Hard Times At Douglas High: A No Child Left Behind Report Card.” A two hour film that tries to blame Baltimores problems on Bush’s No Child left Behind, even though Bush’s program was not implemented until AFTER the absolutely disastrous year this Documentary captured.

Here’s an example. Douglas High has an average freshman class of 500 every year. They graduate an average of 180. Douglas is losing 320 students a year, all on their own, and the teachers all acknowledge this. Now, how the fuck is this the fault of No Child Left Behind? How can you even put this in the title of the documentary, when only after the dismal performance of this school, did the feds step in and re-organize?

HBO is full of shit, and this thing is laughable, when their own cameras capture things like a guy beating the crap out of 5 girls right in the hallway, full force face punching, completey ingnored by any school authorities. Somebody clearly had to step in to fix this school that has become a gathering place for thugs, where teachers beg students to just go to class, as they stand in the hallway mocking them.

Somehow it’s all Bush’s fault.

George Carlin Dies

End of an era.

The older you get, it seems like either someone you grew up with, or people you know, start passing away almost weekly. Parents, friends, and even celebrities that have been an influence on our lives. A friend of mine said to me a few weeks ago, “15 years ago, we were all going to weddings, now we’re all going to funerals.” Sadly, it seems to be true. Part of growing older I guess.

I used to love George Carlin. I do think he was a comedic genius, absolutely brilliant more often than not, although he really seemed to go downhill in the last 10-15 years. It seemed to me, he really became a bitter, angry old man. Which can really be a trap in comedy, because in case you don’t know, comedy, particularly stand-up comedy, is based in anger.

Stand-up comics are some of the most pissed off, angry, miserable fuckers you’ll ever meet. That anger comes out in jokes, and that anger drives them, just as all great art is born of anger. I’ve said it before, but happy people make crappy art. George most definitely fit that model. Unfortunately, I think the anger that drove him to be so creative and funny, ultimately ate him up inside.

His last few HBO specials were downright nasty, and mean. He said a lot of horrible things about America, and Americans over the last few years, and for me, it just kind of soiled all the brilliant things he’s done over such a long career.

I hope George finds the solace he couldn’t seem to get a hold of while in his mortal coil.

There’s no denying he was one of the very best that ever trod the boards, in my opinion second only to Bill Cosby.

RIP George.

Book Review “Into Thin Air”

After reading Jon Krakauers book about Chris McCandless “Into The Wild”, I tought I’d check out his next book, “Into Thin Air” about the deadliest single day in the history of Mt. Everest, May 10 1996, told from his perspective, as a member of one of the ill-fated expeditions that day.

Climbing Everest has become a business. The routes up the mountain have been narrowed down to a science to the extent that even inexperienced climbers can make a summit attempt, with the help of guides, and Sherpas. If you can cough up $65 grand, and are in decent physical condition, there are “Adventure Teams” that will all but drag your ass up to the highest point on planet Earth.

The really hard part however, is getting down, and Everest is littered with the frozen corpses of climbers who stood on top of the world, only to collapse on the descent, at which point, they are left for dead, because carrying them down the mountain is impossible, even for the masterful Sherpas. Climbers routinely trudge right by dead or dying “clients” overtaken by “Summit Fever,” who refused to turn around at the alotted time, because the summit was in reach.

This is what’s fascinating about this book. Climbing Everest is a three month process, as climbers have to acclimate to the altitude, to be able to make the final push to the summit, and by the time they’ve gotten to where they can make that push, the clock is ticking against their survival in the extreme cold and thin air. The summit of Everest is the halfway point of a 15-20 hour day of extreme conditions, after months of depriving their bodies of precious oxygen, and living in miserable conditions on the mountain.

This is where it gets ugly, and where things went wrong for Krakauers group, and several other expiditions that day in 1996. Many of the guides feel a responsibility to summit their clients who’ve paid so much to stand atop this mountain, and against their better judgement, will continue on to the summit well past the pre-arranged turn around time, and some clients just will not stop, (summit fever).

Krakauer takes us through the three month process, and the harrowing final two days spent in a deadly storm in the “Death Zone,” as his fellow climbers were dying or near death, stranded on the mountain without oxygen or shelter.

Fascinating stuff, riveting from beginning to end, and here’s the article Krakauer wrote for Outside magazine shortly after his return from Everest, which he expanded on for the book.

Check it out, it’s a great read. This particular incident has been exremely controversial, and here’s an interesting ten-year follow up from Outside.