Missed the Pool Again.

Dammit!

What is it about Saturday afternoons that induces one into so great a state of lassitude that the new doesn't get read, the cats don't get fed and one ignores the important things - like ogling barely clad beauties bathing?



Having said that, I would like to add, that I have nothing cogent to add.

N.Joy!

WSE

That Damn Libural Media

What with X^10th barrels of light, sweet, crude spewing into the Gulf of Mexico and BP execs at sixes and sevens about how to deal with it; what with a jobless recovery, sans census; what with two unprovoked, unnecessary wars tapping our wealth and treasure, you'd think that the dirty hippie run liberal media would have better things to focus on than whether or not Sarah Palin has been palin' around with silicon.

Problem is it wasn't us dirty hippies doing the obsessing.

WSE

Tell me Sweet Little Lies

WSE loves election years. The political theater offered by those running for elected office provides near daily nuggets of levity: infusing the mundane lassitude of the daily grind with incredulous laughter, stunned disbelief and, all too often, a sincere desire to move to Australia or at least as far away from Sarah Palin as $1.30 and the lack of a passport can get me.

And, while it's all too easy to share in the brilliantly cynical perspective on democracy put forth by those such as Douglas Adams, we must also recall that it is our most noble and pressing of civic duties to elect the lizards leaders we will come to despise.

Certainly, every election cycle is good for its share of laughs, gaffes and scandals, but the election of 2010 is shaping up to be especially pernicious. The historic election of 2008, which elevated a black man to the highest office of the land, seems to have thrown an unrepresented majority of the nation into fits of paranoia, jingoism and tea-bagging lunacy.

(Note to the Tea Partier's: if you're going to adopt a name for your astro-turfed movement of white, old, racist, angry, rich people do some fucking research first, after all, Al Gore didn't bust his ass to give you the internet if you're just going to ignore it).

Be the quick, brown fox and jump over the lazy dog.

WSE's Post ☂ ☂

The volatile political climate present in the current cycle, fueled 24/7 by a Fourth Estate that has become more interested in entertainment than facts and a rabid Blog-O-Sphere hell bent on mega-biting dissenters to death, should place the average unconcerned American voter on notice. More than ever, in these days of hypocrisy and hyperbole, of hate and hype, of gab and glory, we, the unwashed masses, must be ware of the insipid invasion of revisionist mendacity into our political lexicon. As Orwell himself warned us:

And if all others accepted the lie which the [Candidate] imposed... then the lie passed into history and became truth. 'Who controls the past' ran the [Candidate] slogan, 'controls the future: who controls the present controls the past.' George Orwell, 1984.

Saying that politicians lie is much like a Texan pointing out that Thomas Jefferson was of less import than Cotton Mather in establishing the principles of our nation. Any competent adult over the age of 26 knows that politicians lie. The problem is the politicians haven't yet to realize how easy it is for us to catch them these days.

Case in point: Arizona Governor, Jan Brewer (R - Crazysauce), recently bemoaned the pornographic nature of our political discourse in light of what her father fought and died for against the Germans in WWII.

The Nazi comments . . . they are awful, she said, her voice dropping. Knowing that my father died fighting the Nazi regime in Germany, that I lost him when I was 11 because of that . . . and then to have them call me Hitler's daughter. It hurts. It's ugliness beyond anything I've ever experienced. The Arizona Republic 6.3.10.

Problem is Jan's dad didn't fighting the Germans. He died in California battling lung disease.

The ever intrepid Ms. Brewer immediately responded by claiming that:

...her statement should not be taken to mean that she was claiming her father was a soldier in Germany during the Nazi regime. Daily Kos 6.3.10.

Let me see if I have this straight. Stating, on record, that her father died fighting the Nazi regime in Germany during WWII should in no way be construed to imply that her father died fighting the Nazi regime in Germany during WWII.

War is peace. Tyranny is freedom. All that is not mandatory is compulsory.

The Newspeak of our times informs our perspective and like the daily doses of self-confessionalism, scripted "reality" and banal humor we are spoon fed by an over-induldged, over-centralized, corporate entertainment establishment, adds to our antipathy, our cynicism and our collective agnosticism toward our civic union and humanity.

Sure, this revisionist mendacity may have started on the side of the aisle that favors such radical ideas as social justice, equal opportunity, and {GASP!!!} marriage equality, but it down-right endemic on the side that kneels before their bed each night and prays to the one true god that this country return to 1954. It's getting so bad that in a move that demonstrates his maverick spirit, Arizona Senator and perpetual Presidential Candidate, John McCain (R - Grumpy Old Men), now claims never to have been a maverick.

We have come to expect so little from our leaders and maybe that's an outcome of our cultural obsession with the banal. At the very least, though, we should expect honest. We should demand it. My dad used to say that growing up he was so poor he couldn't afford to pay attention. These days lack of attention only places us in greater poverty.

WSE

A Rant by Any Other Name

A very good friend^☂of WSE sent the following in response to an opinion piece submitted as a adjunct to an ongoing discussion.

...More of a reward and initiative vs rewarding inactivity and indifference. The latter collapses on itself eventually, just like it is now in much of Europe.

Which was probably a mistake as WSE is short of sleep and way hungover...

WSE does not know a single Liberal or Progressive breathing who does not admire and espouse the benefits of hard work and initiative.

Inactivity and indifference are relative terms, depending on what you are indifferent and inactive toward. WSE would posit that the Libertarian ideals espoused by the attached author demonstrate misplaced priorities of Hobbesian proportions. WSE would further state that if you (collectively) wish to witness indifference and inactivity, simply look in the mirror.

M'•er•i•can |Mm'airikin| (N) def.: Anyone of Straight, White, Male, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant (hereafter SWASP) descent (other oriented/racial/gender/ethnic/religious groups considered and accepted only after decades of repression and discrimination and proper supplication. SWASPs reserves the right to kick your ass to the curb, without notice or debate, at any time), who believes that catastrophic oil spills are mere "accidents", engages in (despite his/her/its "holier than thou" convictions) moral opportunism and further believes that justice, equity and liberty are mere commodities to be bought and sold on the open market free from the restraint of the ever repressive boot heel of the suffering masses and longs for, while striving toward, the halcyon days of SWASP hegemony.

We M'ericans are history's most self-indulgent culture (is there a cash prize that?!?). We M'ericans consume more of the world's resources than the Vogons. We are Cleveland Arning, devouring the planet country by country, exporting our trite, consumptive, paparazzi-addled culture to the world, while pissing on their leg and telling them it's raining.

Our indifference and inactivity, as the wealthiest nation on this planet, is nauseating. In the face of suffering, in the face epidemic, in the face of global catastrophe, a saintly few M'ericans may, reach for their wallet, but they will not reach out. We turn our heads and turn the page, justifying our indifference and inaction with pious platitudes.

WSE is moving to Australia. Beaches, babes and no beer too warm to drink.

WSE

^☂ Tip O' the Hat to C. D. for needed education, great conversation and bourbon.

^☂☂ O' the Hat to Magz for the photo.

^☂☂☂ Definitely been spending too much time at Whiskey Fire. A good dose of Cole is in order.

Hipster Backlash

Like we coulda got our ass into skinny jeans anyway. And, please, we'd just as soon throw what's left of our nads over a fixie (REAL fixies, not those lame ass free/fixed toys with actual brakes all those trust fund poseurs ride) as we would agree to have a drink with this guy. Even if, in the highly unlikely event, he's buying.

There's this whole backlash against hipster culture out there. It's Anti-Hipsterism.

It's getting to the point where just riding a fixie is grounds to demand I.D. Did we just land in Arizona? Do WSE and his fixie look illegal? What about PeaceDonna and her dog? Deano Martino produce that birth certificate.

Seriously, we are thinking of joining Glenn Beck in the attic. The only problem is we don't know who we can trust anymore to tell us when it's safe to come out.

Seems to us like we all got a lot more things to worry about than herds of trust fund tweeners (that's somewhere between a free skate through college, no loan debt and and a filial subsidized apartment in a major metropolis and realizing that Daddy's money runs out at twenty-six) with bad taste in clothing, even worse taste in music and completely unexceptional riding skills.

But, well, hell. Gotta fight the culture wars somewhere, and if the latest front is hipsterism, then hand us our pitchforks.

We'll have fun storming the castle.

WSE

Ties Suck

Thank god for youtube. Today I had to knot a tie for the first time in at least 15 years. Of course, it is the same tie (now filthy) that I've been wearing for the past 3 weeks. And yes, it is a loony tunes tie. WSE initially knotted it for me but after slipping it over my head every day somehow the slip knot became a real knot.

I think a celebration is in order.

EDIT: i told you I'd find that loony toon before i went to bed, you fu*&#r, Here's another one. And another one.

How You Use Your Junk Is Now Our Business?

Sorry kids but we here at Casa de Redneck are a wee dash confused.

Okay. We understand that's a pretty normal state hereabouts.

And while we usually revel in, if not actively contribute to it, the confusion experienced now has little to do with wondering why there are wet towels on the bathroom floor and four whiskey bottles in the bathroom trash or how confetti managed to make it into the refrigerator or where the fucking remote went or who swiped WSE's hat (we KNOW it was Lieber - the fooking tosser) or even when those last seven condoms got turned into water-balloons and dropped, unceremoniously, on the heads of guests, neighbors and passers-by.

Questioning that which is the norm is futile. There is no seeking reason in insanity and, once embraced, insanity is very difficult to rein in by reason. Best to let chaos dance...

Then clean-up the mess - which, what with the scavenger hunts and all, is an adventure in itself.

NO.

What we are confused about is this whisper campaign (yes started by the looney tunes on the right, but brought full to the fore by none other than the current sweetheart of liberalism, Andrew Sullivan), that questions Solicitor General's Elena Kagan's sexual orientation. Now that our criminal, fascist, muslim... yada, yada, yada - you know the drill and the talking points - President has chosen to ask the extremely recalcitrant Senate to confirm Ms. Kagan as the next High Wizard Supreme Court Justice, everyone wants to know "does she or doesn't she?".

First it's not like anybody got elected to the Senate for OVERestimating the intelligence of the American public. Christ, Al Franken is a Senator (D - MN - and doing a damn good job), but then again so is Jim DeMint (R - Crazysauce)). But the sophistry and the hypocrisy of the Right right now is so over the top that the last three sane voters just moved to Arizona thinking - "Hell, it can't get any worse" (sorry kidz it does).

Second. and this segues to one. For years and weeks and months and days we been hearing the Right shout itself blue over appointing JUDGES, people with real time legal experience as Justices to the High Court. We have heard carefully constructed sound bites about how great it would be if a President picked somebody, anybody who didn't come from the Bench. We have heard the word and the word from them is we need diversity of opinion and varied experience with institutional structure on the Court. Hell we have even heard how Harriett Miers was the next best thing to sliced bread. Y'all recall how well that worked out.

Now the word has changed. The lede is hypocritically altered. The meme sophistry.

We will admit Kagan is a black box with no experience in rendering judgments. We also concur in the fact that she has a sparse paper trail. We don't like her position (for as much as we know) on Executive Power and late-term abortions. She seems White's wet dream - a total organization person (there is a Russian word that we cannot recall at this time - leading us to wonder what happened to our copy of Ten Days That Shook The World - that we'd like to use). Ah, wait there it is. Apparatchnik. That's the word. Well, so was Rehnquist and nobody but the people he perjured himself before really raised too much of a ruckus.

Sure, some of this is valid. We the people, well we have a right duty to learn where Ms. Kagan stands on some of the vital issues of the day, although it's unlikely we'll learn anything through the confirmation process seeing as how Kagan herself has backtracked on her position. And, it is nearly impossible to get a read on any sort of "litmus test" (as if that should exist in the first place), when the Right keeps moving the goal posts.

But this whole is she or isn't she (a lesbian) thing is the biggest crock o' shit since Nixon tried to convince us that he was not a crook. Apparently, the conjuncture is based on her batting stance or the simple fact that she plays softball in the first place (after all, everybody knows straight chicks only play with hard balls). No mind that there have been several single male Justices who never faced a question about their sexual orientation, despite their crappy batting stance and affinity for curling.

When was the last time you heard anybody question the sexual proclivities of a successful white male (excluding Catholic priests) who passed on the whole American dream of marriage, 2.3 kids, a house in the 'Burbs, a wife on Prozac™, a "lover" (undisclosed) on coke and an unaffordable mortgage?

The greatest thing about human sexuality is that, if you employ enough creativity, if you are willing to engage in a little experimentation, if you have an open mind and apply reasoning to any situation all the parts fit together. It really doesn't matter if it's Guy/Guy, Girl/Girl, Guy/Guy/Girl, Girl/Girl/Guy, the Puritanical favorite of simply Girl/Guy or any neglected combination, if one is willing to analyze the facts, assess the situation, work the problem and apply a dash of creative reasoning, the outcome will be mutually satisfactory.

We here at Casa de Redneck may have our reservations about Ms. Kagan, but they have nothing to do with her purported (sorry Magz) inclinations to develop loving, caring and, yes, sexual relationships with those of her own gender. In fact we think this is a benefit. After all, "straight" white males or females employ little thought or creativity, they don't have to work the problem and reason out satisfactory conclusions in the way those practicing what we euphemistically call "alternative lifestyles" do. Creativity, experimentation, open-mindedness, analysis, reasoning and a desire to reach outcomes that please the parties involved: we think these are fine qualities for a Justice to possess.

And, if it comes out during the confirmation process that Ms. Kagan owns a Squirmy Rooter, well then, we will only support her more.

WSE

Random Martino Thoughts

- HOW did I get cut on the top of my foot with a huge chunk'o'glass?

- Is 'Bad Moon Rising' a protest song? Who cares.

- More Bill Withers please.

- Do you want the fresh wine or the day-old wine?

- James is always here. it's cool.

- Icehouse #1

- Making fried pork tomorrow, email me for details.

- Brother Brother, Brother

- Oh man I officially have an FBI file

- Why am asking Scott how to spell?

- Where is the orzange lighter? I don't have pockets.

- Nazi orange lighter BITCH.

I believe in

preindustrial magic.

We are so fascinated by the technological magic that ties us to reality and, increasingly to one another, that we forget that the mythology of the past can pierce the technological veil and unite us in our common humanity. There is something about a story being told around a fire after the booze and weed and food have run out that takes us back to our simple Savannah roots. Gazing up at the vastness of the heavens one feels dwarfed by the immensity of a universe in which we are but a small and rather insignificant part and recalls that it is only our reliance on one another that enables us to cope with a creation beyond our ken. That is preindustrial magic.

Biggest problem with that is my absolute hatred of the outdoors. My idea of "roughing it" is a hotel without Wi-Fi. You can pretty much take it on faith that I don't know how to start a fire or field dress some unarmed critter that some one just shot to fulfill some incomprehensible need to prove to them self that we are still the dominant predator on the planet. Heaven forbid if you ask me to set-up a tent, I can't even program the Tivo. And, please don't even get me started on personal waste elimination in the great outdoors. Seriously, how long would the outdoors remain great if every unsullied part of nature looked and smelled year-round like Chicago after the snow melts? Our innovative foremothers and forefathers sweated and suffered and thought and created so we wouldn't have to put up with shit. And, I, for one, thank them.

Another problem with getting back to nature and reuniting with our common humanity, reforging the bonds of brother and sisterhood amongst others of our species is that I really don't like people. Simple truth is I have a whole lot better relationship with my bicycle and my laptop than I do with most of humanity. Maybe that's because my bicycle and my laptop aren't as prone to committing gross acts of dumbfucktitude as the rest of humanity. I mean my laptop never opens car doors across the bike lane. And, I have never seen Shannon (that's my bike, Shannon) stare right at me then step off the curb directly in my path while sipping a latte and talking on her iphone. People however do this all the time.

I have a theory about our collective dumbfucktitude, about its source. And, like our own history it is based in preindustrial magic and the development of technology. I am a recovering Catholic and as such the daze of my youth were spent being inculcated with dogmatic rules and regulations about what I could eat when, which words I could not use and, once I was a adolescent, what would happen to my eyes and hands if I continued to spend so much time in the bathroom.

It wasn't until I got to college and in a fit of pique brought on by too much existential agnosticism, actually read the Bible that I got some real insight into people-kind's essential dumbfucktitude. We can leave aside all the wonderful and holy rapes and murders, all the sacred acts of incest and adultery, we can leave the sodomy of Sodom and the gonorrhea of Gomorrah to those who see end of days in the election of a black president or a Cubs world series victory because the root of the problem goes back to the very beginning.

In the beginning, the good book tells, us this god person created the heavens and the Earth, placing upon that Earth two people with strict instructions to be fruitful and multiply. Which they did. Multiplying twice, the product being two sons. Now I ask you to apply a little modern science to our collective mythology and tell me, who are the viable breeding pairs?

Obviously, the sons cannot couple with the mother. Nor does the Bible make any mention of daughters born to the original sinners and even were there daughters with whom do they couple? The only available males in all of paradise are their father or their brothers. And, you cannot argue that all these people were in some state of grace and thus immune from the ravages of genetics. The parents had tasted of the fruit of the forbidden brick god left under a hat and therefore knew good and evil, they tasted of the tree of knowledge.

Nope. Doesn't fly. The conclusion is inescapable: If I buy into the Biblical story of creation, the only explanation for our modern day dumbfucktitude is inter-breeding. So when I speak of preindustrial magic tying us to our essential inter-relatedness, I am being quite literal.

WSE