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He just looks so happy.

I put my first sprig of lilac from the bush I planted in my window.....and
now the aroma of lilacs just fills the room. Oh. My. Gawd.

Fred does not approve of.....you.

I really, really, REALLY want to find a teeny Egyptian pharaoh headdress
to put on Fred.

May. 17th, 2016

Look at this chunky monkey.

If you refer to Hillary Clinton as a warmonger, a bitch, a Republican, or evil, YOU are the problem, not her. She is nome of those things. She is a female politician who has been subjected to thirty years of vile attacks by Republicans. No, she will not be indicted. And if you justify some of this by claiming she was a Republican "in the Sixties", you need to take a good long look in the mirror. Clinton was thirteen in 1960.

All of these attacks testify to the fact that Clinton is being subjected to a far harsher standard than is Sanders. Remind me again when MSNBC convened a panel of women to criticize Sanders' cankles, his clothes, his hair----and his wife. Sanders knows this or should. If he does not, he is not fit to be President. If he does and uses it----thereby encouraging his vicious little followers----then he is not fit to be President.

In Nevada, the Bernie fans didn't trouble to learn the rules, didn't show up prepared, and when informed that the rules applied to them, they shouted "Bitch!" at Barbara Boxer. Then they demanded the rules be changed to benefit them. This is apparently what justice looks like. I have some arrogant little puppy on facebook right now, boysplaining to me that his sexism is totally new and exciting "not-sexism", because that would be inconveniant for him. Another smug asshole keeps threatening women with a Trump administration because we won't vote for their idol. "Look what you made me do" is abusive in any setting, and that's all that #Bernieorbust is. Extortion is what a lot of fake male feminists do to women when they want to be given all the attention of all feminists, everywhere. You know what a real male feminist does? He doesn't look for excuses to become a Republican, and he doesn't threaten to give up because we weren't his cheerleaders. Yeah, we don't need men carping at us, thanks. Go talk to men. Go talk to men who think that a man calling a woman a bitch backed by thousands of years of murder and rape isn't sexist because a feminazi once wouldn't let him pay for dinner (though he made it clear she better put out) or wpuldn't let him hold the door for her. (That woman also gets abortions at eight months, three weeks, and six days, when she's not ripping doors out of mens' hands. Call her Mary Celeste, the Flying Dutchwoman of ghostbitchez, eternally roaming the land, searching for doors to slam and dinners to scam.)

You know how you can tell a Hillary voter from a Bernie fan? I'll vote for him. His fans will not bote for her. The fact that they have to build her up as evil says it all. If she's evil, Machiavellian, devious, cynical, greedy, a corporate shill, a warmonger, then Bernie isn't just this mediocre old white radical who's like every guy ever who promises to do chores around the house and never does, and his fans aren't spoiled little white boys. No, if Hillary is evil, Bernie's mantrummy fans become victims and Bernie becomes a brave crusader.

But if Hillary is just a competant and (badly-attacked by Repubs and people who *need* to hate her)politician and woman whose opinions evolved over the years, then Bernie's brats aren't victims any more than Bernie himself isn't another career pol with little to show for it. It comes down to a practical woman who just won't bake cookies, who knows exactly what people are saying about her, and who knows how to compromise, because that's how adults work, versus a guy who might have good ideas....but ideas don't protect womens' rights and dreams don't let transgender folks use the fucking bathroom of their choice.

There are pure people in the world who would never deign to go to war, to do this or that. Funny thing is, wars happen anyway. You can wish for peace, love, and happiness....or you can fight when you must, and stop it when and where you can. That's realism.
I got out my old reel mower and mowed some of my back "yard." I assess yards in terms of how many 4x8 raised beds I can put up, so at the back of my house, there's space for at least two more beds end to end and maybe one beside on the right, and two side by side to the left. I didn't actually much want to mow the lawn. I did it anyway. That would have been impossible five years ago.

Then I transplanted some lillies of the valley, dug out my mower-sharpening kit, and threw in a couple of loads of laundry. Yesterday I mopped the kitchen floor and part of the dining room. Cleaning is therapy, especially when you consider VA therapy. Every time I get my hands in the dirt, I feel better.

Might not be good news tomorrow. I think that toe is infected again.



So there's this.

I'm trying to get my surgery set up. I was racking up six, seven thousand steps a day without even trying. You'd be amazed how many steps it takes to sweep and mop just one room.

The big news is.....I got on a bus. By myself.

There's a wonderful hardware store near here. The manager is a woman and they have a store dog. (ALWAYS patronize stores with store pets. ALWAYS.)

After some test runs with a VA staffer, I developed some panic attack mechanisms. The buses are new; they're fueled by a combination of eco-friendly fuels. They're built differently. They don't rattle. Plus I realized that one ride that I thought took at least twenty minutes.....took only two minutes. That's another coping trick.

With panic attacks, I sometimes can fake myself out by just doing something without planning or preliminary. Plus cold weather helps.

So.......it helps if there's a reward at the end, and that reward was this hardware stores. I LOVE hardware stores. Crack, man. Pure crack.


I looked at saws, tools, bird feeders.....all kinds of great things. But I had to take a cab home because I got wiped out. The cab driver tried to get me to reduce the tip, but I like to give big tips, because....just because. Also? He made me laugh when we got into a discussion about the differences between IUDs and IEDs.


I went out and limped over to my raspberry patch to trim back the growth. I was going to do more, but my knee started to stiffen up and my hands were full of raspberry barbs. Today's all rainy and Shadow is exerting a terrible amount of pressure to snuggle in bed----he grumps at me, then lays his scarred Hapsburg-like underbite on his chin and looks dejected. When I lay down, he shoves me around till my arm is at the best spot to serve as a head rest. Watching him adapt to treats----to the point where he goes into paroxysms of enthusiasm when I bring out the treat container is a gratifying sight, even if he is a chunky monkey now. After all those years as a literal alley cat, scrawny and starving, I'd say he's earned it.

Tomorrow I finally have an MRI. That'll be four months after the initial injury, so who knows what good it'll do. The local VA is dealing with a misappropriation scandal right now, involving workers who directed funds for veterans, apparently, to their own accounts, while they diverted their actual job duties to lower-ranking workers. I'm shocked.

Warmer days mean nightmares and halluctinations, even here, but the yard draws me out. I'm hoping to recover the ground I lost with the knee injury. There is nothing like a Minnesota spring, where one day the branches are bare, the next they are covered with leaves, and the trees seem to cast lacy green shadows everywhere. A screened-in porch is not a luxury, but a necessity.

I just don't have gossip. It seems like I'm constantly struggling to get any sleep at all, then get back to sleep when the nightmares wake me up.


The men who don't ask

I posted this on Facebook, where you cannot do italics, and I don't have the time to change the capitals to italics right now. So frickin' annoying.

Boy, there are A LOT of guys who are REALLY determined to call women liars about rape. Crosses all population markers, ages, what have you. They are VERY invested in screaming that bitches lie about rape, along with obsessive repeating of ITPG. Funnily enough, women are never ITPG. Ever. All it takes for a woman to be damned is for any random dyde to say bad stuff about her. But these guys never get defensive and angry about....insurance fraud. Or burglary. "Doesn't have the stigma of rape," say these dudes, as they call convicted rapist Mike Tyson oppressed or tragic or....stuff they never call women. Women are liars and men suffer tragic fates, like getting book deals, long sports careers, and the commiseration of their buddies, who no doubt nod sorrowfully over "crazy bitches."

I can only conclude that they are so defensive because they have guilty consciences. The FBI ----and EVERY reputable organization---has found for forty years that at most 8% of rape accusations are "unfounded". That doesn't mean false. It could mean the cops are lying assholes. It could mean the cops are rapists themselves. It could mean the rapist was a non-secretor or wore a condom. It could mean a whole bunch of things, but what it boils down to is, 92-98% of women are telling the truth about rape. 2/8% of men who claim they were "falsely accused" are telling the truth, maybe. That means 92 to 98% of men who claim that they were falsely accused are....rapists.

The funny thing about these twitchy guys, though, aside from the fact that they NEVER scream "INNOCENT TILL PROVEN GUILTY" about any woman, EVER, is that they *avoid* research like the plague.

It reminded me of a recent Captain Awkward column. Guy friend had once been told, "No, not interested in that way," by female friend. Totally awesome guy, too. Then he invites female buddy for visit. Keeps filling her glass. Then he starts feeling her up, groping her, getting into bed, refusing to stop. She had to physically remove herself before he backed off. But he never ONCE asked.

Because he ALREADY KNEW. She'd refused him already. He didn't ask because she'd told him no months earlier. "But she didn't say no" now ought to feel really damned sinister.

And these guys, who promote the bigotry that women lie about rape, they NEVER look up the studies, the research. Just like that guy who didn't ask.

They know. They know what the answer is already. What kind of man promotes the idea that women lie about rape? What kind of man
benefits from the idea that women lie about rape?
Well, fuck, my phone is dying, probably out of exhaustion. Luckily, I insured it so replacing costs me $5. Aaaaaaarrrrgh. Still.

I want a new fucking knee. If I take ALL the pills, the pain is....better. Problem is, I'm a wuss. That stuff knocks me out.

I deal with crap by moving furniture and doing massive piles of laundry. Or scrubbing. Scrubbing is VERY good. But I find this knee business personally offensive. I feel like my knee has betrayed me. I always treated my knees well, and this is what they do to me? (Or at least one of them, that is.) Well, at least, I treated them better than, say, my ankles. If this were a movie, my knee would be taking the role of the whichever character is addressed with, (very melodramatically) "You BETRAYED ME!" I'n not sure what that says about MY role in all this. Does this kind of make me the villain? I'm pretty sure my knee should be the bad guy here. I'd be the trusting ingenue, except, well, I left "ingenue" somewhere in LA about (coughcough) years ago.

And you know what? I am totally sober while I type this, even as I imagine my knee acting like Peter Lorre in "Casablanca."
Ugh. I don't think the cortisone worked. The knee is back to being just as painful as always, and yes, I have stayed off it except for trips to the bathroom and to the feed the cats. It feels swollen but doesn't look that way. It's very weak and the pain level is pretty high.

I am losing my mind. I can't sweep or mop. I can't lift weights. I am stuck, and it's driving me bananas. Sigh.
I don't know why, I just doubt Jezzie's commitment to exercise

The VA strikes again

So, for those of you in the cheap seats, the VA likes to do this thing where they periodically fuck with you. In my case, they first blew off my panic attacks---for years, by which time they had turned into agoraphobia. If I can't get to the VA, I can't get treatment, and that's when things get really ugly, because they do things like threaten to cut off my medication. So medically professional!

Well, they're doing it again. My transportation is being cut off. I refuse to take cabs or otherwise be jerked around. These are supposed medical professionals who blithely expect patients to, what, exactly? Give one's self exposure training?

Or they'll threaten to cut off my medication. You know, the stuff for the agoraphobia and panic attacks. And then they demand without it I somehow magically get to the hospital.

Words cannot describe how much I hate these fuckers.

Alan Rickman died

Oh. God. He was only 69!

Keep your religidick in your closet

I did not sleep last night, thanks to knee pain and a doctor's appointment today. So I am cranky.

I beling to a bunch of rescue groups on facebook. These groups solicit for "pledges" for animals that are on the shortlist for euthanization or need medical or something, or to organize transport. Animals whose adoption fees are paid are obviously a lot easier to adopt out than ones with fees attached.

(One of my pathetic loser white boys stalkers used to try and taunt me by claiming he belonged to an organization that kills feral kitties, because that doesn't make him look like a future school shooter or anything. Nothing's more pathetic than a loser white guy who has all the advantages of being a white guy in America, but is still so utterly mediocre that he can't do more than get shitty jobs, inflate his resumé, and rage against women for wanting to take his "vidya.")

So. Anyway.

So people in these facebook groups pledge money or share the page around till an animal gets enough donations so that they can be adopted or whatever medical treatment they need is paid for. Simple, practical process, right?

You always get people who either say they're praying or that they're sharing "with prayers." Worse yet, you sometimes get people who do the whole prayer right there in feont of you, usually at least a paragraph and often including something like "in Jesus' name amen." Based on my own highly-unscientific study, these people are NEVER the ones offering actual money. Never. Or any other kind of material support whatsoever. People note that they shared so the rescuers know how far it's spread. That's fine. But this?


I fucking hate these people.

For one thing, they clutter up the process. Are you donating money? Sharing? Maybe you had a pet who once also looked like a loser bet, but turned into a wonderful cuddleball? Great. I love reading success stories.

But prayers? Prayers do no fucking good at all. However, the people who pull this seem to think they do. Do they want credit? Do they feel guilty? Because if they posted, "I went and hugged my own kitty/put out extra treats for the feral I feed/whatever" I would totally get that. That's coping and an animal, somewhere, benefits.

But prayers. Partially this is because I absolutely love the bit in the Bible about "praying in your closet." And I hate the flashy assholes who are so frickin' ostentatious about it all. But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly. (I mentally replace "door" with "mouth."

Then again, I think religion should not be a fucking threesome: you, your god, and your ego. Praying in public is a lot like masturbating in public or sending a dick pic. Did I ask (as in 'request', a useful substitute word for this phrase) for this? If I wanted to address your shortcomings, I'd make a request. Notice how different "Ask for it" and "Request it" are here? Think of other discussions where this could be a useful switch. Anyhoo. Still. I don't get the way guys think their little friend's abrupt appearance will be welcome, unsolicited. Penises look like some weird kind of turtle without a shell. Did you lose your pond, little feller? Should I toss it into a nearby creek?

Likewise, just because you're in love with your best friend down there doesn't mean anybody else will be. Dicks require introductions before you can really appreciate them. Let's face it, genitalia in general does not look like it was designed soberly. Why not put it someplace easier to reach? Then people could reproduce without complicated Twister-like manuevers. How about USB ports? (Although the hair things in "Avatar" were.....weird. Accessible doesn't have to mean flapping around in the breeze.) Can you tell I'm sleep deprived?

Anyhoo, though, religion seems to me to be an intimate issue of morals. The more moral you are, the less you do it for praise or publicity. In fact, such things are incredibly tacky. Who are you doing it for? If there's a photo op, well......

Look at Jimmy Carter. The guy has been building houses quietly for decades, but the press has to make an effort to search him out. He's too busy....building houses.

I once read a devastating article about the reality of those "charitable" missions to Africa or wherever. The writer talked about the goofing off, the coffee breaks, the way they had so little training in construction that the villagers had to quietly demolish the missionaries' work every evening and replace it with their own.....Another missionary got slammed when she arrived in Nairobi and discovered it was a sophistocated, cosmopolitan city, not the mud huts she'd imagined. She was not happy. What's the point of helping people who don't make for good photo ops? (And who are very different from one's self, perhaps, in skin tone---so as to serve, perhaps, as a human passport stamp?)

One of the things I loved about the Army was the feeling of putting aside's one's self, one's life, to help other people, whether it was processing Cuban people for immigration to the US, or trying to get toys for Iraqi kids. Nobody will know. There will be no medals, no commendations. The most you might get is seeing a guy working the fields he now owns, or driving the new (old) taxi he uses to pay for his daughter's school. That guy, those people---that's what we sll should be doing, but if you're three cans of tuna away from your next payday, nobody's going to criticize you for needing to take care of yourself.

I don't think it's guilt, either. Everybody has seen the regretful, "I wish I could,"----and understood. These "prayers" resemble "thoughts and prayers" to me, but less harmless. "Thoughts and prayers" take the place of the gibbering that would happen if people tried to put their emotions into speech following another gun massacre. Ostentatious prayers are pretending to help, while spending neither money nor effort, and in fact, looking for attention.

People just don't need to know. As Mother Jones said, "Pray for the dead. Fight like hell for the living."

Get fighting. Get doing. Just anything but talking about it.

The gun nuts on Jenny Trout's blog

Jenny Trout posted this phrase on her Twitter yesterday: "My child is more important than your gun."

This outraged assholes for whom guns are penis substitutes. They like to make threats, and they like to fancy they're Steven Segal. One troll even took that name.

Fortunately, another person---far more reasonable----managed to sum up the ammosexual's way of thinking with this all-too-accurate little vignette. This is amazing----and terribly accurate. Gawd, this is stunning. And, alas, it is not mine, but rather that of a talented person named A. Noyd.

Jane: I love cake.
Bob: If you try to use my kitchen to bake a cake, I’ll beat your ass.
Jane: Uh, I just said I love cake. You don’t have to threaten me.
Bob: I’m not threatening you. It’s a warning. Leave my kitchen alone and you’ll be fine.
Jane: “I will hurt you” and “I will hurt you if you do X” are technically both threats. That one is conditional does not make it not a threat.
Bob: It’s not a threat to you if you don’t want to use my kitchen.
Jane: It still is a threat. And you made it to me when nothing I said indicated I wanted to use your kitchen in the first place.
Bob: See, then there’s no threat.
Jane: There is a threat because a) what you said is a threat regardless of my intentions, and b) there was no need to bring it up to begin with.
Bob: I say that to everyone who mentions cake just in case.
Jane: That only means you’re accustomed to making threats in situations that don’t warrant them. Meaning you’re not a rational person about this subject.
Bob: If you don’t try to use my kitchen, nothing bad will happen to you. Chill out.
Jane: See, you’re asking me to trust that you’ll respond rationally when you’ve already established that you aren’t able to be rational about this. If you’re not being rational, I can’t trust you to correctly evaluate my intent towards using your kitchen.

Threats are threats and they just get more threatening the less reasonable a person is about issuing them.

People forget

People forget that context matters. When Clinton was President, the Repubs were positively unhinged.

This is from a review of "The Hunting of The President," on Amazon. You have to read all of it to get an idea of how bugfuck nuts the Repubs have been. It didn't start with Obama. The Oregan snacktavists aren't the exception, they're the rule.

Lj is being fucked up, so the next paragraph is the beginning.

""The words "sychophants" "toadies" and "brown nosers" come to mind to when thinking of how to describe the reporting of Joe Conason and Gene Lyons on the Clintons. Maybe "partisan hacks" is a tad better description. The Clintons themselves are, of course, criminal psychopaths who have for decades played very dirty in American politics all the while personally and spectacularly violating many people along the way. The Clintons are also totally in bed with the Bushes due to Iran-Contra. See Jeb Bush's recent awarding to Hillary Clinton a "Liberty Medal" on behalf of her work for the US Constitution (hilarious, I know). Both families have to legitimize and validate each other to keep out of jail.

This effort to whitewash the Clintons really falls off the cliff when it brushes off the 1980's CIA epic drug smuggling of the Clintons and the Bushes. This has been documented to the hilt; I suggest reading Al Martin, Terry Reed, Daniel Hopsicker and googling "Chip Tatum Pegasus." Not to mention Gary Webb.

One big reason Clinton became president in 1992 was because Ross Perot, incensed over the 1980's CIA drug trade and VP GHW Bush's deep participation, was in complete coordination with Bill Clinton to take down Poppy Bush. Too bad for Perot because Bill Clinton was in the CIA and Dixie Mafia drug trade up to his eyeballs.

In the 1990's "The Hunting of the President" really was not the hunting of the president because the Republicans carried so much epic liability that they simply could not go after the Clintons without taking themselves down.

One of the worst things the Clintons ever did was to send Bill's inner circle Arkansas state trooper goons to beat up and nearly murder Gary Johnson on June 26, 1992. Gary Johnson had been Gennifer Flowers neighbor and he had a security camera videotape of Bill Clinton often entering her apartment. The Clintons were, of course, lying about the Flowers affair (and every other affair) in 1992. So Bill sent his inner circle state troopers, supervised by Raymond Buddy Young, to beat Gary Johnson to the point of death and retrieve those damning tapes that had the potential to blow up Clintons' general election campaign.

Note carefully: Gary Johnson was also the lawyer for Larry Nichols, the Clinton antagonist and former Clinton insider.

A year later on September 26, 1993, Jerry Parks was murdered in what may very well have been a Raymond Buddy Young directed murder. It's logical to me. If Bill's state troopers beat Gary Johnson to the point of death; they have to be prime suspects in the murder of Luther Jerry Parks.

By the way, the name "Gary Johnson" does not appear even once in the index of this book.

And Jerry Parks is only briefly mentioned.

In fall 1993 some of Bill's Arkansas state troopers went public with a bunch of stories about Bill Clinton's completely unhinged sexual escapades. But what the troopers could not tell us was that they had been the personal good squad of Bill Clinton and not just his pimps.

Same thing with Larry Nichols who was a big time Clinton goon who used to be best friends with Raymond Buddy Young. Nichols simply has not publicly talked about all the criminal activities that he was involved in on behalf of Bill Clinton.

They can talk about Bill and the women, but they can't talk about the beatings, possibly some murders or the who among them was the one who castrated Wayne Dumond on the orders of Bill Clinton (Dumond had raped a cousin of Bill's).

So now we come to that 10 year campaign to destroy those poor little Clintons. The Republicans could not do it because they were simply too compromised at the highest levels.

And they could not even have gotten Clinton impeached if he had not pulled down his britches and exposed his tiny, little crooked penis to Paula Jones, all the while talking "horny like" with a big red face.

Then wild Bill had to lie about his sexual relationship with Monica Lewinsky. The Clintons were all set to destroy her as a "nut" a "slut" and a "stalker" except for the fact that Bill had decorated her dress.

And Conason and Lyons have the nerve to write a book painting the Clintons as some sort of victims by a band of delusional Republican religious crazies trying to take down the president out of some sort of irrational hatred of this lovely pair of psychopaths.

This book is just factually wrong on so many levels.

A good example is the Hillary Clinton/Vince Foster affair which the authors discount on p. 85. Foster and Hillary were obviously having an affair and this has been confirmed by Larry Nichols, Larry Patterson, L.D. Brown who saw Hillary and Vince making out so passionately it was like they were also in the back seat of a '57 Chevy. Mike Galster has also confirmed the Hillary/Foster affair. The troopers used to take Hillary and Vince to a cabin in the woods on the weekend and Vince would often come to the governor's mansion to see Hillary when Bill was gone.

If Conason and Lyons can't figure out Hillary and Vince were having an affair, how can they be trusted on anything? More than an affair Vince and Hillary were emotional husband and wife.

In fact, Vince's deteriorating relationship with Hillary, who was openly humiliating him in meetings all the while not giving him sex when they were in Wash DC, were big reason in Vince Foster's suicide. Read Ron Kessler's recent book on the Secrets of the FBI for that nugget.

Notice I said Vince Foster suicide, not "murder" as many on the Right Wing had a justifiable reason for believing because it is obvious that Vince Foster did not kill himself in Fort Marcy Park.

Marinka Pleschmann has published her book on the death of Vince Foster and she pretty much has solved the riddle of Vince Foster: he blews his brains out in the White House Counsel's office and Hillary, on a plane, immediately orders the body to be dumped off White House premises. In my opinion, Foster murdered himself where he did in an act of aggression towards Hillary who had utterly discarded him when they got to DC. She was too busy powertripping, trying to nationalize heathcare and murdering Branch Davidians. Hillary - "Woman in Charge" - ordered that fubar final assault on Waco as well.

Hillary orchestrated a coordinated lying and perjury campaign to cover up the dumping of Vince Foster's body. Then she ordered a lockdown of Foster's office for the rest of the Clinton Administration.

Yet another strike out for Conason and Lyons.

Then there is the fact that Chelsea is the biological daughter of Webb Hubbell and not Bill Clinton. That is a useful nugget to know that Conason and Lyons either have not figured out or just won't tell you.

Or the Bill Clinton has often told his friends that Hillary has been with more women than he was, as a way of justifying his over-the-top adulteries.

Speaking of those poor little innocent Clintons, I noticed that Anthony Pellicano and Terry Lenzer were not mentioned by the authors. What do you think those guys were doing in the 1990's during the Clinton Wars - just twiddling their fingers?

Pellicano is now in jail in Texas for running terror campaigns in Hollywood very similar to the terror campaigns inflicted on Clinton's sex victims and former girlfriends.

And Jack Palladino has in fact admitted to Melanie Morgan in 2003 that he helped to orchestrate the terror campaign on Kathleen Willey in 1998 before her Paula Jones depositions.

But in the world of Conason and Lyons, it is those poor little innocent Clintons and all the terrible things they had to endure in the 1990's ...

Let's just say this book is pretty inaccurate and a warped view of history.

It is a defense of a pair of criminal psychopaths who should have been put in the slammer a long, long time ago: the Clintons!"
Fuck LJ today, I swear to Christ.

 So there's a bunch of white dudes who have taken over a bird sanctuary on behalf of some other white dudes who don't want them there, either. These other dudes set a forest fire to hide evidence of poaching.  The judge sentenced them to less than the mandatory minimum,  and an appeals court re-instated the mandatory minimum. The Bundy assholes are whining about this because in their opinion, being white means  you get everything for free. No, seriously, that it's it. They're the son of Cliven Bundy, who grazed his cattle for years on federal land, then decided not to pay for whatever reasons angry old white fucks hit on these days.

Now his sons are saying they want "their" land "returned to them."

Except it never was their land. They never owned it. They never bought it, paid for it, nothing. This is on top of the usual galling spectacle of white assholes whining that something they stole was taken from them. Like, do shoplifters try this? "Hey, I got away with it, ergo it's okay."

This is beyond gobsmacking. This is so typical white male privilege I can't even. Seriously, do you need a better example? Is there a better example? I mean, aside from Captain Combover, another Human Cheeto who thinks the orange look with pale eye holes is attractive. Trump says he respects women, then beams and looks around, as if he expects his word---in the face of all his bitter insults tossed at women who didn't blow him as a substitute for shaking hands----to be good enough to serve as proof, in spite of all his incredible attacks on various women.

 If  you want to see how privilege works,  just compare and contrast the behavior of the Ferguson protesters versus these guys, who are armed and still alive. Not just that, but they are demanding to be given stuff they never owned in the first place, not to mention that they came unprepared and are demanding "snacks." At least one of these guys has promised to kill or be killed. Can you imagine how soon they'd have been killed had they been black or Muslim?

    There really is nothing else to say.  They need to be arrested and locked up. 
Fuck this shit. How many fucking tries does it take to post a simple fucking photo?

It's all the more frustrating because this is the photo that can bring world peace. Look at this kitty. Look at how cute she is. I should ship her around on a Cute Mission, if only I can figure out a way to make her trill and head butt and lay her head on other people's shoulders.  My cat sitter-----a wonderfully lovely person who is great with cats and just about everything----has never seen her, but this kitty usually uses me when she does obnoxiously cute things like the nuzzle and floop in the photo. baby"s oppressed


Still on crutches, but more mobile.

I just casually asked my cousin P.if he knew anybody who shoveled snow. I started going through craigslist.

You know what he did? He drove over, all the way from Minneapolis, to shovel the two houses. Without being asked. I literally hoped he could reccomend somebody. Isn't that the nicest thing?

Between this, and my friends, and the cat sitter, I'm not used to feeling so lucky and amazed.
Have been limping around for days on bad knee. This morning I couldn't walk on it. Had to crawl downstairs to feed cats.

Called 911. Went to VA. After eight hours, some X-Rays and a sonogram later, they sent me home with crutches, two meds I was already taking (that weren't wprking) and one new, and an ace bandage.

Got home, went to bathroom, and on the way back downstsirss, something went SNAP loudly in my knee. I spent ten minutes lying on the stairs, screaming in pain.

Back to ER. Still there now. Leg brace and mystifird staff, but also one injection. Beats me.
What heating pad, hooman?

The VA strikes again

So I managed to hurt a hitherto-(mostly)unharmed body part (my knee) and now I can barely walk. But that's only part of the story.

I wasn't even doing anything, I think, when I hurt my knee. Well, except for running around the house. I just woke up with it hurting.

I was hoping I'd be able to talk to a doctor at the VA on Friday, when I had an appointment, but I waited and waited for my driver to get here and by quarter to, nobody had showed. I finally called the main number. The driver had had a family emergency and of course nobody had called me. Who did she get angry at? Me. I always wondered if that suburban hostility ever dissipated. When she first started driving me---and I made clear that planning and communicating before me getting in a vehicle was NOT negotiable---she also got pissed off at me after I put my foot down. "You ALWAYS do this," she sneered. "You always start to get better, then somethung happens and you stop."

It's amazing how they act like giving you treatment (for injuries they exacerbated with their neglect) can be abruptly be stopped without affect. That phone call that never came Friday, for example. I changed my number years ago, but VA staffers routinely blame you for their errors. In fact, when they called me to bitch....strangely enough, they didn't hsve a problem with tge phone.

The injury in my knee is such that I csn neither straighten nor bend it and it keeps buckling. The pain is at the outside of the knee and to the back. I've been icing and heating by turns, but those litter boxes don't scopp themselves. I just started lifting weights and this is really fucking irritating.

So I tried to get the VA to athirize sn ER visit to a non-VA ER, but of course, they wouldn't. And at the VA ER, they'll diagnose the same kind of arthritis you get where, one day you're fine, the next day---after your dipshit driver nearly tossed you from the gun turret trying to swerve away from an IED---you suddenly are in so much pain from neck to knee that you can't even turn your head. Funny how all women soldiers get that sudden onset arthritis.

I did finally finagle a doctor's appointment with not my regular doctor (she and I conduct our visits in rusty French, but it's fun) so maybe my knee will mysteriously be all better for Xmas. That's what always seems to happen.

I really hate the fucking VA.

the LA thing

What's the over/under on the actual "threat" coming from some angry little white boy chan puke? You get three guesses and the first two don't count.

Can you imagine what it would be like if, in the wake of the San Bernardino shooting, if we treated shootings by white guys as seriously. You can't even get them called terrorists, fer chrissake.

Blackmail opportunity!

Baby has had enough of your shit.
Life on the internet, inspired by Clementine Ford's (and my own) battles with trolls.

Ford gets lots of guys who attack her every time she has an opinion on what men do to women. Specifically, if she DARES to suggest that a bunch of white guys, reacting the same way every time to something a woman does, might be something worth----gasp!----criticizing.


Ford gets truly shitty trolls, on the order of MY assholes, guys who...well....read this.

Yes, we're so much better than other places, as angry white men constantly remind us. Here, men only threaten to rape us to death, tell lies about us that people are very eager to believe, and attack us verbally constantly. Nothing outrages Single White Losers, it seems, than outspoken women who refuse to bow down before the Mighty Peen.

And, creepily, nothing outrages these unwashed little manbabies more than a woman who dares point out that, frankly, they're assholes.

It's been repeatedly found that loser white guys still are better off than (white) women, to the point where a guy with a high school diploma makes more than a college-educated woman. (WOC suffer even more than this, dropping a dime per category per dollar 'earned' by men.) These guys also sneer at the idea that there's a wage gap, that there's rape culture, that there's discrimination against women.

These guys have such easy lives, like the Princess perched on her pile of mattresses, that the tiniest pea at the farthest distance still chaps their ass.

They like to rail against "PC", against "dindu nuffin" (the latest racist dogwhistle), trans rights, against women who can say no to them, against women who just dom't care if these angry little boys rage shit their brains out or not.

Where does the rage come from?

Notice, for example, who isn'tbugfuck outraged. There are a lot of people expressing reasonable anger, but they're also doing things. These latter people, mostly, tend to be women, POC, and so on. These are people, poignantly, like American Muslims, who touchingly think that Trump's followers will just see reason if they're presented with facts ---even though they're terrified.

Isn't that the sweetest thing? They believe Americans are guided by logic.

Angry white boys, though, are really the loser basement dweller who believes---like Elliot Rodger, one of their number---that he's just entitled to blowjobs, without even asking, because he had a car and wasn't offensive looking. George Sodini thought the same thing. As white guys, they expected the keys to the city while they flatlined at offering women a pulse, a house, a car. Of course, what did they expect in return? Servitude and sex.

These guys think that as white guys, they're entitled to everything life has to offer, while they sit in their stained undies in their mom's basement, guzzling Mountain Dew and mainlining Doritos. They expect yo be liked because they have "nice personalities"---which they don't---while they rake in big bucks for....what, exactly? They're utterly unambitious and talent free because they've never worked for anything. If they had a pulse, they got credit for breaking a sweat. (Boys still get favored and excused in academic settings, even when teachers think they're actually balancing things out.)

They're not angry about injustice. They're angry about justice, because for too long mediocre white guys got rewarded at every turn just for showing up at the finish line. These guys like to sneer at the people who actually ran the race for being sweaty. In reality, white guys take a cab to the finish and demand somebody else pay their tab. Then they whine that the other guy took his wallet.

Paradoxically, these guys like to bitch that it's a meritocracy, and women, black people ("dindu nuffins"), transfolk, etc., etc., just aren't good enough. Only white guys are. That's not sexist or racist, though.

The charade falls apart when you see their rage at a woman with an opinion. Pointing out that threatening to rape a woman to death because she said (accurately) that men beat women to death in staggering numbers is not "discourse" or "expressing an opinion". In fact, it rather proves she's right, but being right is the worst thing a woman can do, especially if she's pointing out that men are wrong. Then the response is staggering. And revealing. Significantly, perhaps, these guys send dick pics and threats under their real names, on their work emails. That says to anyone with a brain that they're doing something that's so normal to them they have no problem doing it ballsout open like that. Which, again, proves feminists right when they say it's a rape culture. And it makes you wonder about their bosses. At best, it says nobody checks their emails. At worst, well.....

Ampersand, at Alas a blog, covered the recent thing with Clem Ford. What happened was that Ford writes about sexism, and she's not Queen Victoria, which according to yobbos like Michael Nolan, means she's a slut. This was included in a torrent of abuse, including men who threatened to backhand her, rape her with knives, show up on her doorstep with a gun. Ford saw that Nolan had named and linked his employer on his facebook. She notified them of his conduct. (He also had racist conduct on his facebook.) They canned him. Most of the men on Alas blamed Ford for his firing, and dismissed the deluge of abuse women deal with as no big deal, something she should ignore, or a "thread". They also criticized....Ford's language and behavior. Ford's. Because it's bad enough she exists, apparently. Then the bitch goes and actually offends men by not only not offering blowies to compensate for being "ugly", she actually thinks she can criticize her lords and masters and still not offer anal at least or something. That bitch. Of course, if she did, they'd call her a "slut"----as Nolan did---- or complaim she wasn't thin enough or underage enough. (The more MRAish a guy is, the more he's obseesed with how "natural" it is to lust after 15-year-old girls.)

What gets me about this is how one thing has been overlooked. I really don't give a shit about Nolan; he was an apartment manager, which meant he had keys to womens' apartments. I'm sure he'd pulled this shit before. No, this guy saw an actual hate mob attacking a woman with spite, vitriol, violent threats, and vicious slurs, and he thought, "PARTAY." No, by the way, we're not talking about some general concept here. We're talking about why men think that hanging up on a woman is a fun thing to do. Not people in general. Women. The end.

This guy saw this spectacle and decided to be one of the attackers. Do I give a shit about employment law? No. Anybody who tells you "the internet isn't real" and that it was unfair has never worked, as a woman, alongside an asshole like this.

What is really horrifying here is how men attack women en masse, and how other men think that's okay or they join in. Either one is an endorsement of the behavior.

(Meanwhile, of course, you have assholes who whine they're male feminists, and expect to get treats and kisses for haranging women. Dudes, if you REALLY are into feminism? Shut up and let women talk and go after sexist men. These guys not only do not listen to women, they attack. THAT is how you be an ally. Same thing for white people chafing at talk of privilege. Feel weird? Go after racists. Back up people.

And of course, everywhere it's Ford's behavior and language that are being blamed, not Nolan's, which is flat out victim blaming. No, nothing she did or said merits discussion. Nope. Sick of it. Let's talk about this guy's behavior. It's like that Buffy scene where Glory exercises some kind of mind control on humans, so immediately after the Scoobie Gang realizes Ben is Glory, the memory is gone. Why did I bring that up? It's a great metaphor for the way some men expect to be worshipped----and expect their actions to be invisible to criticism. The taboo against criticizing white men as a group is immensely strong. No such taboo protects women.

It is that tendency toword erasing mens' vicious attacks on women while endorsing them and blaming their victims that allows gangs of men to think their actions can be, will be, and should be allowed. It is the most incredible example of "boys will be boys" you can imagine. It shows that, basically, telling men "no" is the world's worst crime, according to men. (And if you don't believe me, try rejecting a street catcaller.)

A brief dissection of male privilege

Trigger warning for enough sarcasm to brine your ass.

The same path gets followed every time.

1. Woman has an opinion about something. She expresses this opinion.

2. Men get bugfuck outraged. They scream with rage, threaten to rape her, kill her, whatever.

3. Woman responds. Sometimes there is sarcasm.

4. Sometimes woman shows bugfuck freakout to the offenders' moms, bosses, etc., etc.,

5. Men respond with EVEN WORSE bugfuck freakout. How dare THIS BITCH......um, quote them verbatim? Use their names? Which they openly used?

6. The "She asked for it" stage arrives. People attack her all over again. As if by prior arrangement, everyone agrees that Number 2 never happened, and really, Numbers 1, 3, and 4 are totally to blame, while Number 5 is just the response of poor, abused men. They didn't do anything wrong at all till she provoked them in 3, physically assaulted them in 4, and 5 is just boys being boys.

7. All the guys agree that the woman is a total bitch who totally asked for it and probably likes it besides.

8.(Sometimes----oh, who am I kiddng?) The guys depart, and all of them spread their version of events, in which She attacked them relentlessly, so they had no choice to defend themselves----by threatening to rape her with the barrel of a gun or the blade of a knife.

9.Note: men NEVER get told to "just ignore it." In fact, they are praised for "defending" themselves. Notice how #2 keeps disappearing?

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Says it all, doesn't it?

When you add the Republican Youth movements like Gamergate, sites like Reddit and 8chan----devoted to terrorizing women and anybody not an angry young white boy----what you have is a clear picture of a continuum of white male terrorism, from threats and intimidation to outright murder.

Olympus Has Fallen/White House Down

Yeah, let's fight.

In the realm of unbelievable plot, we have OHF, where we have the prez and his whole cabinet wimping out for no good reason in five minutes flat, since I'm pretty sure the prez gets "what-if-you're-taken-hostage" briefings that are a whole lot more interesting than the ones we got in the Army, and soldiers get the POW code drilled into them. Yeah, the prez in this movie is that dude who was in that Black Hawk Down/War of the Worlds flick where LA got invaded by cheapo special effects from outer space, who apparently brought Every.Fucking.Last.Goddamn.Military.Heartwarming.Cliché.with them. Aaron something? Beats me, I'm not looking it up. He was in a Frankenstein movie, too. Which reminds me---- How come Hollywood gets the military so wrong?? There's manly jaw-clenching, death letters, the naive lewie, the sgt-with-a-past, the soldier who talks to tombstones, and the tragic past for selected characters. At no point does anybody EVER develop an actual personality, though there's the male virgin whose fate is supposed to let us know that no rules are safe. Yeah, except mildly sexist jokes are okay. At one point---a different one--- Our Hero asks Michelle Rodriguez's character if she's "ready to use that weapon." Yeah, that's a civvie's conception. In reality, I've seen lots of Marines go, "fuck this, I'm a Marine, if I wanna talk about my emotions, I goddamn will." I will say, there are a couple of nice moments---with a kid, a confrontation, a moment involving a chopper---but those are entirely the doing of the actors.

I've gotten very aware lately of actors being....well, actor-y, and once you see it, you can't unsee it. The two best movies I've seen, lately, about terrorism/war have been "United 93" and "Green Zone" the latter of which made me flinch in too many spots. They're both spare, stark movies full of pared-to-the-bone performances which you can fill with your own emotions, so you become a participant in some acutely emotional moments. GZ brought back memories it was so accurate. U93 drained me. It doesn't sound complimentary, but it is, because both did it with honesty and understatement. There's something deeply unnerving and yet exorcising about being made a participant in a film's emotions that way.

So. Whoops. Tangent. Anyway, President Jawclench here has Gerard Butler playing the Bruce Willis role, while Rick Yune chews on the scenary and Angela Bassett gets wasted in a nothing supporting role. Morgan Freeman plays Morgan Freeman. The North Koreans infiltrate the White House with the aid of an actor whose first name begins with D----Dylan? Dermott? Whatever, I always get him mixed up with another guy with a similar name.

Anyway, if you want a believable plot, I worry about you, do you have a fever? I will admit that the battle scenes are spectacular but implausible----where DID they take off from in a C130, anyway? There's just too many layers of security they'd have to penetrate to pull that off, and frankly, the DRNK's intel capability is hilariously inadequate to the task. Slightly more believeable---on the scale set by the whole C130 thing, mind you----is the attack which takes out the fence and perimeter. The actual battle? Nope. The Secret Service has to be made up of coma patients for that battle to go and end the way it did, though hiven the news lately about fence hoppers.... But of course, who cares, it's an action movie, what was I thinking?

The next hour or so are Butler rescueing the Prez's kid, torturing Koreans, and struggling with American vowels. Oh, yeah, and the cabinet buckles under immediately, every last one of them. Then the American bad guy has a change of heart, and finally there's a fight with Yune and Butkler that demonstrates Good Ole American Values....by a Scot... and the obligatory quip by the Prez that redeems his character somewhat. Somewhere in there we have the moment-of-horror that's supposed to tug at the heartstrings: the flag on the White House flagpole gets tossed to the ground. If they really wanted to tug on the ole heartstrings, they should have flown that at the end, bullet holes and all, because I'm pretty sure after all that, it counts as a battle flag. Battle flags may be repaired but never respectfully destroyed, as are peacetime flags. The actual flag that's referenced in "The Star-Spangled Banner", for example (during the war of 1812, when the White House was burned by the British) still hangs in the Smithsonian, musket ball holes and all. (This is also supposed to be the flag that Betsy Ross sewed, but I'm rusty on that.)

So, even for a movie of this type....yeah, well. Um. God, they really need to stop trying to write speeches that sound stirring for this kind of movie. This is supposed to be where we see the Prez shake Butler's hand at a press conference, because Butler's redeemed himself (for some of his roles)---no, I mean, for letting the First Lady die in a totally likely accident on a bridge at the beginning of the movie. Did I forget to mention that? Good, because I'm so sick of the contrived tragic past thing. The First Lady is played by Ashley Judd, which is a bad sign for her career. Hetting killed off really doesn't seem symbolic in Hollywood, if you're a woman of "a certain age."

Which brings us to "White House Down", which was more silly but also more fun.

This one, too, featured a disgruntled insider---or, actually, a whole pile of disgruntled insiders, as the whole team was American. Instead of an experienced rah-rah dude, we get Channing Tatum and his bewildering porn star/corporation name, and his extraordinarily geeky/tech savvy daughter.

Never much cared for Tatum before this, I have to say. I only saw him in the fifteen-or-so minutes of that Nicholas Sparks movie he was in before I realized I liked my lunch where it was, plus I resent the idea I'm supposed to lust after such a squat, assembled-by-committee guy. He's one of those guys that men tell women we must like, because other men admire shit like more and bigger and bulgier, so women absolutely have to. If course, that makes us shallow, while men get to fantasize about how Gorean life would be if they had biceps the size of a baby's body.

Tatum is kind....square, and I really don't go for that. Seriously, at one point, I thought he was a Potato-American. Then I saw a picture from Comic Con. The stage was full of highly-paid actors who played superheroes----and there was 92-year-old Stan Lee, trying to get down the stairs by himself. Tatum was the only one who literally offered him a hand, or, rather, a charitable arm.

So, anyway, one of the heroes here is the Tatum character's daughter. Total geek girl and suspiciously precocious political junkie at an early age. The villains are basically what you would expect the gamergate/ Republican Youth to age into, once they figure out hatred isn't a substitute for either brains or talent. They all seem to be actors trying to turn themselves into Ayn Rand fanboys when in reality they spend all their time in the makeup trailer writing "Barrack Obama +(insert name)" on their Trapper Keeper covers. Yeah, not Bernie fans. The movie's a bit too old for that demographic. He seems to attract exactly the sort of 20something dudertarians who want to think they're not conservatives, even while they're utter assholes online.

Anyhoo, the embittered losers take over the White House while Tatum & Daughter get separated, meet the Prez, (a rumpled Jamie Foxx, lots of fun), and in general, look like what they're doing----a car chase across the South Lawn, with guys spraying .249 fire at one another??---- is in any way remotely plausible. I mean, Tatum opens the movie by having a chat with a squirrel about his impending job interview at the White House. Yes, I mean that. No, I am not making that up. Insert your own joke about Hollywood *here.*

Anyhoo, overall, this is lots more fun than the other one, mostly because while the cast here is game, they aren't weighed down by the heavy pretense of the other plot. Geopolitical issues? Nah, let's just blow shit up.

There's snappier dialogue, a lighter touch, and pissier villains, plus in general, everybody is a sassy ass. The cast isn't as full of big budget heavyweights, which probably helps. But, anyway, I keep wondering if switching casts and/or plots or both would be better, and I don't know.

Poor Rick Yune. What a thankless job. He gets the worst lines, role, and payoff.

Anyway, they're making a sequel to Olympus Has Fallen, which is called...London Has Fallen. London has never fallen, so I fear this is going to be stupid in ways that are utterly inconveivableand posdibly offensive. These are people who gave Hitler the V sign, and I don't mean for victory.

You've been warned.

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