|
|
Sunday, June 22, 2008
|
|
 "DESTROY ANOTHER FETUS NOW, WE DON'T LIKE CHILDREN ANYHOW"
I'd like to describe myself as "pro-choice when it comes to abortion, but I'm not a coward. I'm not afraid to say what I'm for, and that happens to be abortion.
No one would describe themselves as being "pro-choice" on, say, civil rights. When was the last time you heard someone say "You know, it would be really nice if black people could vote without being lynched. Y'know, unless white people don't want that?"
No one is "pro-choice" on guns. You either have that right or you don't. Period. The same is true of abortion. If you believe in it, you're not "pro-choice," you're pro-abortion. And if liberals weren't such snivelling little assholes, they'd be proud to say so. When it comes to the rights of the people, there really is no "choice" involved. You either have a right, or you don't.
It might not seem like it, but I actually do respect "pro-life" voices. The problem is that most of them are the same kind of cowards that the "pro-choice" idiots are. If you believe that abortion is the murder of another human being, you do not make exceptions for "rape, murder or the life of the mother." If you believe that there are certain classes of expendable human life, then you're no better than a fucking Nazi.
Abortion is not a morally incrementalist argument. It's either murder or it isn't. A fetus is either human life, or it isn't. The only truly immoral voices in the debate are those of the vast middle, the "choice" believers on the left and the "exceptionalists" on the right. What they seek to do is, pardon the pun, split the baby.
I disagree with pro-life absolutists with every fibre of my being, but I can at least respect them for being honest. I can't say that for everyone else who isn't me. If you argue that "rape, incest and the life of the mother" are incremental steps in banning abortion outright, you might be the most immoral people of all. You are, by your own definition, willing to sacrifice innocent life for decades until you achieve some far away goal. Those terrorist assholes who bomb abortion clinics are more morally honest than you are, and you should be ashamed of yourselves for even suggesting that in public.
I happen to believe that if you can't prove that a fetus is human life beyond any legally definable doubt, then you should cede the choice of what to do with that mass of cells that will someday drop out of college to the person carrying them in their bloated bellies. That's just how I roll.
I have a very difficult time reconciling the belief that "the right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects ... shall not be violated, but upon probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation" has any exceptions. If anything, the freedom of a woman's uterus from government interference is much more important than, say, your collection of sawed-off shotguns and Internet porn. My position on abortion rests on the foundation of security of the person, particularly the one that everyone can actually agree is a person. Without the security of the person, all other rights are essentially meaningless.
If I have a problem with Roe v. Wade, it is that Justice Blackmun's reasoning is almost incomprehensible. If I were to write that decision, it would be all of two sentences long. It would read "The Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth and Ninth Amendments to the Constitution, taken as a whole, clearly establish a right to personal privacy. Fucking deal with it."
Even as strident a pro-life voice as Justice Antonin Scalia has said that there is nothing in the Constitution that prohibits abortion. Whenever I see a doubt as to what the Constitution says, I feel compelled to side with the individual over the state, which the Ninth Amendment does, too.
Instead, Blackmun wrote an incredibly muddled opinion that has only served to make the United States the political laughingstock of the world. Even the people of a backward country like Ireland, that bans abortion totally, laugh their asses off watching American politicians obsess over an issue than effects a grand total of one (depending on your definition of "life") person.
Widely ignored is the fact that Roe was the least important of two abortion decisions from the 1973 term. The real ground breaker was Doe v. Bolton. Even if Roe was overturned, it wouldn't affect Doe, which established access to abortion.
As a Canadian, none of that matters to me particularly. Canada is alone in the industrialized world in having no abortion law whatsoever. This was a consequence of Dr. Henry Morgentaler, Dr. Leslie Frank Smoling and Dr. Robert Scott v. Her Majesty The Queen, in which the Court found that the federal law violated the "security of the person" provision of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms.
After Morgentaler, there was almost no constitutional foundation upon which to write a new, restrictive law. Also, the politics were horrible. Just mentioning abortion in the context of an election campaign is a good way for a political party to get dead fast.
It should be noted that unlike the United States, all criminal law is by definition, the jurisdiction of the federal government under the Criminal Code of Canada. One of the most important parts of Morgentaler v. Her Majesty, the Queen was the finding the provinces cannot pass abortion laws on their own.
Amazingly, Canada has been an abortion law-free kingdom of tranquility and happiness ever since.
Of course, that doesn't stop the jackals in the goddamn liberal media from polling us on abortion.
The poll by Angus-Reid - a firm that I have found to be traditionally unreliable - finds that 91% of Canadian support abortion rights to one degree or another. That isn't hugely surprising. What does shock me is what happens to the numbers when you add public funding to the equation.
When it comes to funding abortions, though, there is not the same level of support.
The same poll found 44% of respondents thought the public purse should only pay for abortions that were medical emergencies.
Four percent think the health-care system should never fund abortions.
Egan said the numbers surprised her, but that they may not truly reflect people's thoughts on the issue.
She said many younger women, low-income women and women from rural areas could not afford abortions if they had to pay for them themselves, and so if the public system didn't pay for their procedures, it would amount to discrimination. Firstly, the Canada Heath Act (socialized medicine to my American readers) doesn't, despite the best efforts of a bunch of liberal cocksuckers, doesn't deny treatment for maladies incurred by bad behaviour. Those leftist assholes would love to deny me coverage for my eventual cancer and heart disease because I love smoking more than anything in the world.
Furthermore, the taxes I pay on my cigarettes are, according to my government, supporting the fucking system in the first place. As I remember it, that's the justification for tobacco taxes in the first place. Should I demand that those taxes only pay the costs of smoking-related illness? How would all of Canada's remaining stupid motherfuckers react to that?
And what about all of those fatasses out there. McDonald's kills almost as many people as Imperial Tobacco does! Why are those sloppy, sweaty fuckers getting off so easily?
What said leftist assholes overlook is that most health maladies are the result of bad behaviour. When I first had this argument with a professor in college, I used the example of HIV/AIDS, perhaps the most preventable disease in North America after 1984. That didn't go over very well because liberals don't want to say that anything bad that happens to homosexuals might be a result of behaviour.
Making moral distinctions regarding care under a universal health care system would indeed be discriminatory. If you won't pay for a woman's abortion, why should I pay for her retard kid? Abortion is a one time payment of about three hundred bucks. Retards cost a fortune over their lifetime in health care benefits. That's to say nothing about the cost of their education. Them floppy-headed fuckers are expensive, and as a fiscal conservative, I object to footing the bill when an alternative exists.
Like it or not, Canadians have decided that health care is a right. Through our courts, we have also decided that abortion is a right. Furthermore, anything that involves sticking things into a woman's uterus that isn't me is by definition a health-related matter.
If nothing else, abortion and emphysema are at least fun-related conditions. Someone had a good time getting that way. But the 50% of you assholes who are body-surfing your way to Type 2 diabetes on a wave of fucking cheeseburgers and pancakes stuffed with chocolate and peanut butter are the last people who should bitch about funding abortions with your precious health care dollars.
Yet you fat, moralistic motherfuckers are going to be the first ones in my wallet when you have your fucking feet cut off, aren't you?
Let me get this straight, my tax dollars are only supposed to encourage certain kinds of behaviour and not others? Encouraging a girl to be a filthy little whore who needs it bareback is wrong because it costs a few hundred bucks, but holding a parade for you assholes who eat an entire pig for dessert because the fucking cow wasn't filling enough is right because you have a glandular problem is compassionate?
If that's true, fuck you and fuck Canada. I hope the goddamn terrorists win. At least they'll be more honest than you are.
Everybody in this fucking country is an asshole but me.
Thank you for your attention.
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: The Future By: Leonard Cohen From: The Future
PermalinkLabels: I Fought The Law, Journalists Are Swine, O Canada, The Department of Professional Outrage
|
|
|
Friday, June 13, 2008
|
|
 TIM RUSSERT: 1950-2008
I came home from work minutes ago and was shocked and saddened to learn that Tim Russert, the moderator of Meet the Press and Washington Bureau Chief of NBC News, died this afternoon of an apparent heart attack. He was 58 years old.
If you love politics as much as I do, you loved and respected Mr. Russert. In a format - political talk shows - that has become little more than self-aggrandizing assholes competing to see who can yell the loudest, Meet the Press always remained a forum of quiet dignity and thoughtful discussion. In an industry dominated by curs like Bill O'Reilly and Keith Olbermann, Tim Russert was one of the few remaining giants of a dying art form. As a matter of fact, after David Brinkley died, Russert was really the last one left.
Regardless of what crazy shit I've been doing on a Saturday night for the last two decades, I always made sure that I was awake and coherent on Sunday morning to see Meet the Press. I did that for no other reason than that you were guaranteed to learn so much from that one hour, something that is rarer and rarer in television news. Too many news organizations treat something like Britney Spears' latest fuck-up as something akin to the Kennedy assassination, but I seriously doubt that her name ever crossed Tim Russert's lips.
Mr. Russert could end a political career without even breaking a sweat. He did it to David Duke and he very nearly did it to John Edwards. But he never did it by being disagreeable. He didn't holler and he didn't berate his guests. Russert allowed his guest to recite their silly talking points, and then he would very politely and respectfully vivisect them with the facts and the record. It was a beautiful thing to watch and if you never did, you really did miss something.
Though he was a liberal Democrat who had worked for both Mario Cuomo and Daniel Patrick Moynihan, you wouldn't know it from watching him on television. On the air, Tim Russert was someone who loved politics and knew more about it than most of his colleagues. He was probably the best researched and informed personality on television today.
More than that, you saw his love of his father, his son and his hometown of Buffalo and the Bills. And that wasn't some kind of folksy pretense that you see so often from middle-aged men who read a teleprompter and look like Gary Condit for a living. That was who he was as a man and not only was he proud of it, he had a sense of joy about it. It is fitting that the flags in Buffalo are flying at half mast tonight.
For someone so dedicated to his family, the timing of his death couldn't be worse. Just over a week ago, he had to put the father who inspired two of his books into an assisted living home, and his son had just graduated from Boston College. And Sunday is Father's Day.
Of course, the parade of jackals seeking to fill his chair will commence before the weekend is out, and I'll likely write about it. But this isn't the time for it. This is the time to remember and reflect on an important figure in politics and journalism, and more importantly, someone who seemed to be a genuinely sweet and decent man.
My Sunday mornings are going to be so much poorer without Tim Russert. And the rest of my life will be poorer for knowing that Bill O'Reilly will probably live forever.
My thoughts tonight are with Big Russ, Maureen Orth and his son, Luke. Hopefully, they know what their son, husband and father meant to so many people that he never met. I hope that Tim knew it, too.
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Hallelujah By: Leonard Cohen From: Various Positions
PermalinkLabels: Journalists Are Swine
|
|
|
Thursday, June 12, 2008
|
|
 ALEX KOZINSKI KNOWS HOW TO HAVE A GOOD TIME
Being a big time judge can be pretty stressful. That's doubly true when you sit on the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals and find yourself caught in the crossfire of their war against logic. Speaking only for myself, I'm pretty sure that it would make my head hurt.
Anyone can tell you that the best remedy for stress is the ability to kick back and relax. Hobbies are vital in clearing the head and allowing one to focus on life's truly important issues when the time comes. For that reason I find myself defending anyone who has their hobbies attacked by the Goddamn Liberal Media, particularly when the hobbies in question are those of someone as important as Judge Alex Kozinski.
No one knows better than I the healing power of pornography. It brings what the Quakers call "peace at the center." I personally know that nothing makes a bad day go away quite like taking off your pants and watching Nikita Denise take a 9 inch tool in the dumper. It calms me and allows me to be the steady voice of reason that you read here each and every day.
As you might imagine, I own thousands and thousands of hours of pornography, almost none of it gay, and I have no idea where I would be without it. My father loved pornography and that love was transferred to me at an early age. I just don't know what kind of a man I would be without it, but it very probably wouldn't be at all pleasant. If you don't own at least some pornography, chances are that you're an asshole.
That's why I'm mystified by the shitstorm surrounding Judge Kozinski. He's obviously a man who knows how to relax and that couldn't be more important in this Dark Age of Bush.
Yes, Kozinski is presiding over a trial involving pornography, but that's hardly the issue at hand. Pornography, as we know, is protected speech in the United States. The Supreme Court has been pretty clear about that. What Ira Isaacs is on trial for is obscenity and the use of the mails to distribute it, which is another matter entirely.
The Miller Test makes obscenity an awfully tough nut to crack, which explains why there really haven't been any convictions in the last 20 years. But the Bush administration hasn't let history or common sense stop them in any other area of government, so why should they start with justice?
Even without the burden of Miller, obscenity prosecutions are idiotic and serve no useful purpose. Furthermore, anyone who suggests that those prosecutions are "to protect the children" are just too stupid to take seriously. You may or may not know this, but furnishing pornography to children is already a crime. And I almost never hear "states rights" conservatives decrying the federal government getting into areas of state jurisdiction such as drugs or obscenity. Did you know that fucking murder isn't a federal crime but obscenity is?
The simple fact of the matter is that adults like watching pretty people fuck. Alex Kozinski loves it, Clarence Thomas loves it, and I love it, too. I probably love it enough for all three of us.
The law itself is so weird and wrong that not only do we have to read about the pornography the judge in an obscenity trial has online, he has to suffer the indignity of demanding an investigation of himself.
Having said that, the porn is pretty ... interesting.
The computerized cache included a picture of two nude women on all fours painted to look like Holstein dairy cows, images of masturbation, a video of a man being pursued by a sexually aroused donkey and a slide show featuring a striptease with a transsexual. That's ... hot. Actually, it's comedy, you assholes! And that's something that Kozinski is rather well known for. As a matter of fact, in the L.A Times "expose" on the matter, this exchange occurred;
Among the sexually explicit material on his site that he defended as humorous were two photos. In one, a young man is bent over in a chair and performing fellatio on himself. In the other, two women are sitting in what appears to be a cafe with their skirts hiked up to reveal their pubic hair and genitalia. Behind them is a sign reading "Bush for President." "That is a funny joke," Kozinski said. And you know what? It is a funny joke. But now The Man is coming down on him and the censorship begins. The judge said he planned to delete some of the most objectionable material from his site, including the photo depicting women as cows, which he said was "degrading . . . and just gross." He also said he planned to get rid of a graphic step-by-step pictorial in which a woman is seen shaving her pubic hair.  There's the tragedy in this. If a young girl can't go to a federal appeals court judge to learn how to shave her crotch, where else is there for her to turn? Is the LA Times thinking of her?
Of course they aren't, the cocksuckers! Because Scott Glover has such delicate sensibilities, we'll all be subjected to the return of Seventies Bush, and nothing is worse than that. Seventies Bush is a clear and present danger to an orderly society and no conservative should stand for it.
But nothing described on Kozinski's website meets the legal definition of obscenity and no one is suggesting it does. That Laurie Levinson and Diane Feinstien are upset should surprise no one as Laurie Levinson and Diane Feinstein are idiots.
I'm weird in that I'm looking at something deeper than this. I'm wondering exactly where the Times got the story about Judge Kozinski's website. I know that you've all seen All The President's Men and think of reporters are diligent seekers of truth. However, they are usually lazy motherfuckers and not infrequently drunk ones at that. They don't collect information as much as they have it leaked to them.
Who would do such a thing? Certainly not the defense. If they knew about this, they'd save it for appeal and almost certainly get a new trial. Why disqualify the judge before a verdict if that verdict happens to be guilty?
But Kozinski has a reputation of being a libertarian and a smart ass to boot. The Bush administration famously dislikes iconoclasts and doesn't cotton to losing in court, although it's gotten awfully good at it of late. The administration also has a reputation of firing US Attorneys who piss them off. You may have read about it even if Alberto Gonzalez hasn't.
United States v. Ira Issacs is about some pretty serious shit, both figurative and literal. The material at issue is so offensive that it might just result in a conviction even if it doesn't meet the strict legal definition of obscenity. If you have a cowed liberal asshole or some conservative tool on the bench, it might even be a slam dunk. But it turns out that they can no longer do something as simple as denying due process to terror suspects or convict a smut-king, what the fuck are they good for? The answer? Get Kozinski off the case. The sad thing is that it just might work. Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Walking the Cow By: Daniel Johnston From: Hi, How Are You?Permalink Labels: I Fought The Law, Journalists Are Swine
|
|
|
Saturday, May 10, 2008
|
|
 NOTES ON TRUE LOVE LOST & WHY EVERYBODY IN CANADA IS AN ASSHOLE BUT ME
Most Canadians are pretty fucking stupid, so their dreams are limited to playing professional hockey, being a shithead like Don Cherry, or owning a Tim Hortons franchise. Canadians are a simple people with simple dreams, and I'm frankly shocked that we're a G8 country. If we didn't corner the export market in space arms, oil and comic actors, we'd be worse off than Uganda. We worship Wayne Gretzky as a god and engaged in five months of nationwide cannibalism when "The Beachcombers" was cancelled.
Canada is the kind of country where the strong are eaten and only the weak survive. Were it not for the intrinsic beauty of our reproductive organs, we would have died off as a nation long ago.
If there's anything worse than Canada, it's Quebec. Besides being "the French fact in North America", it is also a cauldron of corruption. La Belle Province is seemingly controlled by biker gangs who have childish names like "Rock Machine" and no motorcycles. This is preferable to popular democracy, which has only been able to produce life-long losers like Jean Charest. If Canadians were truly serious about making the world a better place, we'd wall off Quebec, plow their fields with salt, and drown the fuckers with their beloved Pepsi cola.
The only worthwhile things to emerge from Quebec is Leonard Cohen and Mitsou. But Maxime Bernier wants to join that esteemed company and make it a holy trinity.
Bernier is Canada's Minister of Foreign Affairs, and a notably ineffective one. This is particularly shocking in so far as Canada hasn't had a foreign policy that inspires anything other than laughter for 70 years and pretty much everything the Canadian government does springs exclusively from the fevered dreams of Prime Minister Stephen Harper.
You would think that such a job would be difficult to fuck up, but Monsieur Bernier is doing yeoman's work of it. In his short time in office, he has publicly called for the president of Afghanistan, Hamid Karzai to fire the governor of Kandahar province, Asadullah Khalid, for the type of corruption that makes him suitable only for the Liberal Party of Canada.
Since I'm not foolish enough to believe that Afghan democracy is going to accomplish anything but sadness, I'm not necessarily against calling for the removal of a corrupt bureaucrat who cannot effectively govern a place where Canadian soldiers have a nasty habit of getting dead in large numbers. What I don't support is making that demand in public because doing so never accomplishes anything productive and only serves to make us look like arrogant occupiers.
Having established that Maxime Bernier might be retarded, it would be unseemly not to point out my admiration for his skill with the ladies.
 For his swearing in by my super-hot governor general as minister of foreign affairs, Bernier was accompanied by a comely fuckslut who had her beautiful jugs hanging out in a way that still makes my balls boil whenever I think about it. It was an impressive display of tits and ass and one that has earned the minister my undying respect.
As it happens, the fuckslut in question, Julie Couillard, has quite the history to accessorize her formidable ta-tas.
Tongues first wagged over Foreign Affairs Minister Maxime Bernier's striking companion at last summer's cabinet swearing-in, and Parliament Hill is buzzing anew with revelations she was once married to an outlaw biker and lived with another gangster murdered during a bloody turf war in the 1990s.
The divorced Bernier, 45, first began dating former model and aspiring actress Julie Couillard, 38, during the summer of 2007, and the pair caused a minor furor with her revealing attire at last August's cabinet ceremony. According to newspaper reports, officials in the Prime Minister's Office admonished Bernier over her choice of outfit. I can only assume that Harper's discomfort with Mademoiselle Couillard's sexy, sexy outfit is an outgrowth of his inbred priggishness and inability to truly satisfy a woman. But pretty much everybody in Canada knows that about the prime minister. But the part about her biker history has certainly raised some eyebrows. According to documents, trial transcripts and newspaper archives, Couillard was romantically involved with two men with strong ties to the Hells Angels biker gang, La Presse reports.
In 1995, Quebec's elite anti-biker squad stormed the house Couillard shared with her then-boyfriend Gilles Giguère, a well-known underworld figure, in a pre-dawn raid.
Couillard was questioned in connection with a murder and extortion plot allegedly involving Giguère, a Hells Angels lawyer, and a Montreal loan shark named Robert "Bob" Savard, key lieutenant to jailed Hells Angels kingpin Maurice "Mom" Boucher.
After a long interrogation, she was released, later filing a complaint to the provincial police commission. She talked of her ordeal in a 1996 interview with Allô Police, a now-defunct Montreal crime tabloid.
Couillard lived with Giguère for three years beginning in 1993, until he decided to become a police informer after being arrested with a cache of machine guns and 20 kilograms of marijuana.
But Giguère was gunned down in April of 1996, before his trial could begin. Police discovered his body in a ditch east of Montreal.
The next year, Couillard began dating Stéphane Sirois, another gangland figure who would later become her husband.
Sirois was a member of the Rockers, a Hells Angels puppet club that biker experts say was responsible for taking over drug territories in and around Montreal and eliminating the Hells Angels' competitors.
Sirois later admitted to being a member of a Rockers "baseball team" – who intimidated rivals with baseball bats and smashed up bars that refused to allow the gang to deal drugs – and testified against more than a dozen of his former associates in a 2002 mega-trial.
During that testimony, Sirois contended Boucher had presented an ultimatum: he had to choose Couillard or his gang. He chose the former, but after their 1999 divorce, Sirois became a police informant, and returned to the gang as a mole.  To my knowledge, a biker slut has never gotten into the pants of a federal cabinet minister before, and this frankly speaks well of Quebec. It's nice to see that they still have a criminal element that isn't involved in the Liberal Party's endless kickback schemes. I'll admit that I have no small reservoir of affection for whores from Quebec. Before the fall of the Berlin Wall, Toronto's strippers were almost all French Canadian and were only put out of work because their Eastern European sisters are infinitely filthier. I also spent a weekend with a girl from Montreal several years ago and learned that if you have a finger or two in their asses while you eat them out, they tend to be screamers when they come. And they do tend to come a lot. Not having had a screamer before or since, I cherish the memory. As swinish as Quebec's general population is, their women are a precious resource and should be exploited without mercy once the Great Day of Reckoning comes. While I applaud Bernier's romantic choices without hesitation, Ottawa's churlish political and journalistic establishments are displaying what they are best known for, jealousy and stupidity. In Ottawa, Liberal Leader Stephane Dion said he had no independent confirmation of the allegations, but what he had heard caused him concern. "Certainly, Mr. Bernier needs to explain because we want to know if there were any matter of national security involved," he told reporters. This is further evidence that Stephane Dion should shut the fuck up. Bernier is minister of foreign affairs, he's not justice minister or running the Treasury Board. What's the worst thing he can do, give Saskatchewan to the Arizona chapter of the Bandidos? And would that really be so terrible? Christ, does Dion even like girls? It sure doesn't look like it. And that goes double for Gilles Duceppe. Unless and until either one of those sexless dwarves can demonstrate that they can handle the slutty sphincter of a trained biker whore, they should put their fucking kid gloves back on and leave the important stuff to Maxime Bernier and me. It's easy to think that you can handle a woman experienced in pulling a train of hardened, hairy criminals, but the reality is very different. Don't ask how I know that, just know that I do. We're also learning that, besides being the greatest fuck in the world who isn't my bride-to-be, Julie seems like the kind of girl who can get a self-important cesspool like Ottawa to lighten the fuck up, if only a little. The cabinet minister’s girlfriend always stood out in the genteel diplomatic crowd that inhabits the foreign affairs building. Whether smoking cigarettes in an ambassador’s limousine or striding into meetings snapping bubble gum and clad in leather boots and tight jeans, Julie Couillard raised eyebrows.
The prime minister is being surprisingly cool about the whole spectacle. I always figured that if Harper were ever presented with a perfectly shaved pussy, he'd physically recoil and immediately declare martial law. "I hear that one of my cabinet ministers has an ex-girlfriend," Mr. Harper told reporters at a hastily called scrum Thursday.
"It's none of my business, none of Mr. Duceppe's business, none of Mr. Dion's business," he said, referring to the leaders of the Liberal and Bloc Quebecois parties.
"Mr. Dion and Mr. Duceppe are quite a group of gossipy old busy-bodies," the Prime Minister added.
Harper should have concluded his remarks on the matter by asking if Dion and Duceppe are also "worthless cocksuckers", but the man is the prime minister of Canada, and apparently some things actually are beneath him. Who knew? Of course, none of this is stopping the Liberals and the Bloc from looking extraordinarily silly and sad. At one point, Tory MPs booed so loudly during a question by Liberal House Leader Ralph Goodale that the Speaker had to intervene. Peter Milliken ruled such queries were in order.
"This is not about Madame Couillard. This is about national security," said Mr. Goodale.
"This is a fundamental issue of democracy and if the government is not prepared to let the people of Canada have their say and ask decent legitimate questions, then this government stands exposed as government that is denying fundamental democracy." Fucking a girl who fucked a bunch of bikers is a "fundamental issue of democracy?" Really? Jesus Christ, it's getting to the point that Canadian democracy is so fragile that a gang bang might just plunge us all into the darkness of fascism. Furthermore, Goodale is the wrong person to lead this charge. The Liberals need a recognized expert on sluttishness. By the way, where is Belinda Stronach, anyway? She'd be good at this as she could ask questions like "Mr. Speaker, did the minister ejaculate in Madame Couillard's ass? Because a man will do anything, including jeopardize the national security, for a woman who lets him do that." Only a true dumper daredevil like Belinda knows what the stakes really are in a situation like this. Belinda knows it, Peter MacKay knows it, I know it, and now you know it, too. Of course, the jackals in the Fourth Estate are giddy over the prospect of talking about tits and ass while pretending that it's really about something other than tits and ass. The sexual frustration of the Toronto Star's James Travers in particular is almost palpable. It's as easy to make too much of Maxime Bernier's latest twirl in the spotlight as it is to miss the point. Who he dates is mostly important because it muddies the message he was trusted to deliver. What "message" is Bernier's cock supposed to be delivering, Jim? "I Break for Nuns?" Bernier's success in annoying separatists is measured by reports that Bloc mischief-making was central to the resurrection of the Julie Couillard story reporters previously explored and found wanting. While ticking off the Bloc delights patriots as well as Conservatives hoping Quebec will help push the party from minority to majority, it's slim compensation for the wreckage trailing the minister mandarins half-jokingly call "Mad Max."
High in the damage report is the Conservative law-and-order image. As unfair as it is to a woman with no criminal record, politicians in particular are judged by the company they keep and it's hard to find worse company than bikers. I disagree. Politicians are seen in the company of journalists all the time. Most surveys show that reporters rank somewhere around the level of child molesters in the public's esteem and well below blogger scumbags like me. Something tells me that I've had filthy, nasty sex with more of my readers than James Travers has with his. Accordingly, I'm much more important than he is. Giving up the nappy dugout is much more of a personal commitment to a writer than, say, paying seventy five cents on the way to work. Just sayin'. Worse still, the Star's own chronically wrong editorial page forcefully disagrees with its star pundit. All of the above goes double for Stephen Maher of the Nova Scotia Chronicle Herald. Maher is seemingly incapable of making a point and writes for a newspaper that probably has fewer readers than I have, which is fucking pathetic. Almost nobody is reading me at this point.  There are a few points here to remember when considering the importance of Monsieur Bernier's past-tense bumping of uglies with Madam Couillard
- Maxime Bernier doesn't take a dump without a note from Stephen Harper explicitly allowing it and dictating the size and girth of the turd.
- No one has managed to explain how a former fucktoy of the Quebec Hells Angels constitutes a national security threat. Has Sonny Barger allied himself with al-Qaeda without telling anyone?
- Bernier is sadly no longer fucking Julie, therefore any "threat" has receded.
- Stephane Dion, Gilles Duceppe, James Travers and Stephen Maher are all singularly incapable of satisfying a woman and probably aren't interested in learning. You could send all four of them to the fucking Learning Annex and none of them would be able to find the clitoris with a flashlight afterward.
- Maxime Bernier used to fuck Julie Couillard. The Liberals plan on fucking the Canadian taxpayer straight into poverty for a long time to come.
- This is the best scandal that can be dug up on the Tories? Really?
- Have you seen her tits? Canada has no real national security policy to speak of and Mme. Couillard has fantabulous funbags. If I absolutely have to worry about something, I'd prefer to worry about something that I know for a fact exists.
I've said a lot of incredibly sexist things in this little essay and all of them happen to be true. But I'm also telling you something that the Liberals, Bloc Quebecois and the goddamned liberal media isn't - that this story isn't about national security and never was. It's a story about slutty pussy written under the pretext of national security. If this was a serious story, the media would have been on top of it (so to be speak) when the Bloc started pimping it out months ago. And they did check it out, but decided that it just wasn't as important as the fact that Dion was going to be a coward about forcing an election for the sixth month in a row. But Parliament is about to go out of session for the summer and, since neither Harper or Dion is going to do anything remotely interesting, pussy is as good a topic for the press gallery to write about as any. I can't prove this, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm being read by a few Canadian journalists. If that's true, I'd like to take this opportunity to tell them that they're fundamentally dishonest. When I write a story a story about cunt, at least I tell my readers (and usually in the headline) "Hey, look at this story about cunt!" However, if you don't know the difference between biker cunt and national security and can't explain how one impacts the other, chances are you don't understand either. Julie Couillard isn't Ellen Rometsch, you dumb bastards. At best, she's a girl who spent a decade being passed around at keggers and traded for particularly good crystal meth. It's adorable that assholes like Ralph Goodale and James Travers think that a former Hell's Angels cum dumpster is a threat to "fundamental democracy" when the all of the available evidence indicates that they themselves - and the proud and profoundly ignorant voters and readers who support them - are a much more serious threat. The public likes being stupid and the political and journalistic classes of North American society are more than happy to keep them that way. If they can do that while writing about a girl with big tits and a well-worn cooter, all the better. But that's just another reason that you should get all of your news from skippystalin, isn't it? Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Is She Really Going Out With Him? By: Joe Jackson From: Look Sharp! Permalink Labels: Fun With Politics, Journalists Are Swine, O Canada, The Department of Love Letters, The Department of Professional Outrage, The War On Fun
|
|
|
Friday, May 09, 2008
|
|
 EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND!
I'm sure that everybody has heard the sad and savage story of Josef Fritzl by now. Everyone seems to have an opinion on the matter and that opinion is almost unanimous - Josef Fritzl sure can fuck!
Granted, he choice of dates might leave something to be desired and his method of seduction is somewhat unorthodox, but like I always say during my court appearences "Who are you to judge, Judge?"
Of course, the goddamned liberal media wants to take a story of kidnapping, forcible confinement, incestuous rape and immolating the remains of a recently deceased toddler in a furnace and turn it into something .... ugly. The goddamned liberal media frequently takes beauty and makes it tawdry. Just ask Monica Lewinsky. Or that undercover cop in the stall next to Larry Craig's.
The goddamned liberal media lives for stories like this because, as world-renowned perverts and scholars of everything that truly wrong with the human spirit, they can relate to it. Now, before everybody gets their fucking knickers in a knot, I'm not saying that all journalists are twisted, child-fucking deviants, just most of them are. Between the Fritzl story and the Texas polygamy cult, I'm amazed that most reporters can stand up without holding their notebooks over their crotches. And those demented bastards want a shield law?
Well, it isn't just Richard Nixon and me who know that journalists are vermin anymore. Josef Fritzl wants you to know that he isn't real fond of them either. He knows that if this continues much longer, a guy won't be able to rape his own daughter for two or three decades without some asshole who knows how to write a pyramid story getting up in his grill about it.
Well, Mr. Fritzl is good and goddamned tired of it.
Josef Fritzl, the Austrian man who fathered seven children with his daughter while keeping her imprisoned in a windowless dungeon in his cellar, has complained about poor media coverage of the case.
His criticism of the international media's reporting was published in the German tabloid Bild Zeitung.
"I could have killed them all," reads the front page headline of today's Bild Zeitung. And Fritzl, dubbed a monster by the Austrian media, told his lawyer, Rudolf Mayer, "I'm not a monster," according to today's report. You might think, like I do, that "hero" is an overused word, but Josef Fritzl doesn't. And he wants you to know that he is one. Perhaps the Greatest Austrian Hero.
Fritz's lawyer has been seeing him and, according to Bild Zeitung, his client has complained to the lawyer that media coverage has been "unfair" and "completely one-sided." And one-sidedness is perhaps the single greatest reason that reporters are assholes. They believe that locking a child in a basement and force fucking her through 7 pregnancies over the course of 24 years is the kind of story that can only have one side.
But that might be a story that has several different sides. It might just be that dad didn't have any other choice. When a parent tells a child to, say, clean his or her room, the child has to know that there are consequences if they don't. Also, a curfew is a curfew and the garbage doesn't take itself out, now does it?
Of course, the goddamned liberal media doesn't see it that way. They need a "bad guy" in almost every story involving simple family dynamics. The fucking Fourth Estate refuse to see the bright side of the Fritzl story. That leaves it to Josef to demonstrate that he's a "glass half full" guy.
"I could have killed them all, and no one would ever have known, no one would ever have found out," he reportedly told his lawyer.
Fritzl has confessed to locking up his daughter for almost 24 years, and fathering seven children with her during that time.
Three of those children, Kerstin, 19, Stefan, 18, and Felix, 5, had never seen sunlight until they were released from their captivity by police last month after Kerstin became seriously ill and was taken to hospital for a life-threatening disease. The young woman has since remained in a medically induced coma and is said to be in critical condition. Look, John McCain has been warning people about the dangers of exposure to the sun for years now, and he's going to be the president of the United States. And that makes him a role model, doesn't it? Well, not only did Fritzl not kill his children / grandchildren, he saved them from the horror of melanoma.
"If it wasn't for me, Kerstin would not be alive today," Fritzl is quoted by his lawyer as saying. "It was me who made sure she was taken to hospital." Mr. Fritzl is like an overly kinky paramedic who fathers his paitients. If stories like this existed in the 1970s, "Emergency!" would never have been cancelled and my life would have been so different.
But journalists just won't leave him alone until they take away his "World's Greatest Dad" coffee mug. It's sick, it's sad and it should be stopped.
Far be it from me to suggest that Josef Fritzl get a framed declaration of heroism from the Amstetten Parent Teacher Association, but it's the little things that the media doesn't tell you that makes all the difference in the world.
You know what else the goddamned liberal media won't tell you? That because of Joself Fritzl, Austria is famous for something other than Hitler for the first time in 70 years. And that's gotta count for something.
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Steal My Kisses By: Ben Harper and the Innocent Criminals From: Burn to Shine
Permalink Labels: I Fought The Law, Journalists Are Swine
|
|
|
Saturday, May 03, 2008
|
|
 THE SWEET SMELL OF AUSTRALIAN POLITICS
The ability to get along with people is very important to a successful political career. And to get along with them, you have to learn about them. Some of us are better at that than others, and as we learned from the Starr Report, Bill Clinton was better at it than everybody. While I'm at it, I should also credit Larry Craig with inventing a new and interesting brand of retail politics.
That's why I'm continually mystified by sex scandals in politics. When you get right down to it, there's no better way to get to know someone than to fuck them. And if you're any good, you can write it off as constituent servicing. Besides, fucking is fun and I can't honestly bring myself to demand someone's head for something that I'd do myself if given the chance.
And that's why Australia contunually confounds me. For a nation built on the bedrock principles of felonious conduct and and a contempt for law and order, they sure seem to get upset by trivial things.
One of Australia's most senior conservative politicians broke down as he tearfully admitted sniffing the chair of a female colleague shortly after she vacated it.
Troy Buswell, the leader of the opposition Liberal Party in Western Australia, was under intense pressure to resign over the incident, which happened in 2005. I have to assume that the Telegraph is fucking with me. Newspapers do that from time to time, and it remains the only way I can explain away Paul Krugman having a career. The great Mark Bourrie can explain how this works to you because I have more important matters on my mind. Like sniffing women's chairs. Besides, Mark has said any number of nice things about me and that's reason enough for you all to read Ottawa Watch. Look, Australia is the kind of country where a woman knows that she's having a bad day if it didn't start with a gang rape. Most North Americans don't know this, but "The Road Warrior" was actually a fucking documentary. I can hardly believe that their cannibalistic leaders would exert "intense pressure" to get someone to resign their post just because she huffed some broad's chair.  I can't believe it if for no other reason than I've done exactly the same thing. I used to work with one of the top five most gorgeous women I've ever seen and she smelled unbelievable. So, yeah, I sniffed her chair. Every day for nearly a year. Don't get me wrong, I waited until after she went home to do it. I'm a pervert and not an Australian, for Christ's sake. Also, I refuse to kick it any way other than old school. As a matter of fact, I'd often wear a fedora and sing Sinatra's "Witchcraft" as I sniffed that chair because that's the way Frank would have done it. As you know, there are few things as important to me than the female posterior and the appreciation of same is something that I excel at. I'm a man of few gifts, but that's the one I cherish most. I hardly feel it fair that I'm celebrated around the world for my enthusiasms while Troy Buswell is being crucified in the press for his. But that's precisely what's happening and the only reason you need to believe that the press are jackals.
"All I can confirm is that the events described in the paper [The West Australian] by the former female staffer are accurate," he said.
Holding back tears at a news conference, Mr Buswell admitted that his behaviour before becoming party leader three months ago had sometimes been highly offensive.
He has previously admitted to snapping a woman's bra as a drunken party trick and has been accused by a retiring Liberal MP of making sexist remarks to her. Okay, snapping a woman's bra can be legally defined as an assault and one should never assault a woman. Even in Australia. Even if she's really asking for it. As to the sexist remarks, I'd have to actually find out what they were before I pass judgement on them. They may have been really funny and I'm hardly the sort who would condemn a gentleman for that.  So a guy wants to know if the delicate bouqet of a woman's glorious buttocks remains on her seat after she vacates it. It's not like he killed anybody, for Christ's sake. And they want him to quit for that? Jesus, I'd quit over the suggestion that what I did was somehow wrong. As a matter of fact, I'd know exactly how I'd feel if a lady wanted to inhale my ass aroma. I'd be deeply, deeply flattered and I'd probably buy her flowers. Or rather, I would have when I was still single, which I no longer am. Only my beautiful Zombie gets to smell my chair now. Sorry ladies, but you had your chance. I can only hope that Mr. Buswell has the support of a loving wife and an understanding family during his time of persecution. The emergence of the chair-sniffing incident had placed a strain on his marriage, he conceded.
"These are difficult issues for me to deal with and they are very difficult issues for my family to deal with," he said.
Gad-fucking-zooks! Abandoned by his own family and left twisting slowly, slowly in the wind by his own bride during his hour of trial. What ever happened to "love, respect and honor, in good times and bad" anyway? I'm pretty sure that Troy was patient when his wife was on the rag every month. Where's the fucking reciprocity? I guess I'll never understand marriage at all.
At least the leader has the unbreakable support of his party stalwarts.
Other members of the Liberal party said privately they were disgusted by the whole episode, but would not challenge Mr Buswell as leader of the Liberals because there was no better candidate.
You know, I'm a great student of how political machinery is built and operates. And I can't think of a meeting in all of history that I'd rather be in than that one. I can just see it now;  Australian Liberal Guy #1: "Crikey, seems Troy's arse-sniffing has gotten him in a sticky wicket! What do we do?" Australian Liberal Guy #2: "Get rid him and elect another leader?" Australian Liberal Guy #1: "Brilliant! Who do you have in mind?" Australian Liberal Guy #2: "How about Gus?" Australian Liberal Guy #1: "Serial rapist. And he's awaiting trial. That would look dodgy. Australian Liberal Guy #2: "What about Gordon?" Australian Liberal Guy#1: "Fuckin' poofter!" Australian Liberal Guy #2: "Right. Looks like we're stuck with Troy then. If you ever wanted to know how politics works, now you do. Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Witchcraft By: Frank Sinatra From: The Capitol YearsPermalink Labels: Fun With Politics, Journalists Are Swine, The Academy of Gentlemanly Studies, The War On Fun
|
|
|
Thursday, May 01, 2008
|
|
 BECAUSE "I AM NOT A CROOK" WAS ALREADY TAKEN
Every president wants to be remembered for something. Harry Truman will always be remembered for his "The Buck Stops Here" sign, the Marshall Plan, NATO and desegregating the military. Bill Clinton will always be remembered interrupting a blowjob so that he could masturbate into a sink and inspiring a government report detailing same. If you were to ask most Americans, they would tell you that Clinton was the more consequential president. This is but one reason that the American government should get out of education entirely.
George W. Bush is lucky enough to preside over what I like to call the O.J Simpson period of world history. It really doesn't matter what you're famous for, all you need is to be famous to win. It is for this reason that the Juice gets more pussy than I do and Saddam Hussein was probably getting pictures from Kurdish girls showing their cooters in the mail as he was awaiting execution. What O.J and Saddam were famous for isn't nearly as relevant as the simple fact that they were famous.
President Bush currently has an approval rating of 22% - lower than Richard Nixon's was the day he became the only man to resign the presidency and faced the very real prospect of going to jail - a new record. Most people would look at a number like that feel emotions like shame, disgust or anger. I feel bewilderment, if only because it tells me that 22% of Americans would vote for Bush again if they could. For that reason, I firmly believe that a quarter of all Americans should be randomly sterilized.
Today marks the day that things went horribly, terribly and publicly wrong for the second Bush presidency. Historians will someday detail how things went awry almost from the second that Prince Hal W assumed office, but his contemporaries will always point to May 1st 2003.
The first of May always struck me as an odd day for an American president to celebrate anything as it is traditionally a day for communists to remember thier misadministration of half of humanity. But as time went by, May 1 was as good a day for the president of the United States to declare "Mission Accomplished" in Iraq. The only way that this war could have been more aptly framed is if it had started five days earlier.  President Bush's little stunt on the USS Abraham Lincoln was one for the ages. There was the president's crotch-enhancing flightsuit, his aerial dynamics and the declaration that "major combat operations in Iraq have ended." The Democrats were of course hapless before such a spectacle. Everyone knows that liberals are afraid of heights and have tiny penises. Had things not gone as they did, we would have seen endless footage of it throughout the 2004 election season. The camera crews were there and ready, the jet was fuelled and the candidate had the single greatest backdrop in the history of political advertising. Best of all, the whole thing had been paid for by the American taxpayer. But things didn't go the way the way they were supposed to and major combat operations in Iraq were far from completed. As it happened, the removal of Saddam Hussein and his thuggish Ba'ath regime was the easy part, and the season in hell was just beginning. History's most expensive photo-op instead will be forever remembered as a monument to hubris, as garish and impractical as any of Saddam's many palaces. May 1st, 2003's declaration of "Mission Accomplished" was a fitting tribute to the most underplanned and undermanned military operation of its size the human history. And the signs of what was to come were already evident to anyone who was paying attention. After the April 9 fall of the Ba'ath government every city south of Mosul was racked by looting. Donald Rumsfeld called this a consequence of freedom, which is a "messy thing," but the Iraqi opposition saw it as something different. They saw that they could defy the United States with impunity. By May 1st, suicide bombing in the Sunni triangle had already started and the fearsome rumbling of the Sadrist militias were already being heard in the south. But it would be over a year before any administration official said the word "insurgency" out loud and a year after that before the phrase "geurilla war" was uttered. By the time the Bush administration recognized the reality of May 1, 2003 - which didn't happen until January of 2007 - the country was engulfed in a civil war. "Mission Accomplished" is something that should be forever remembered by those who care about history. May 1st is a day to remember not only the short-sighted foolishness of President Bush, Vice-President Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld, Paul Wolfowiz and Douglas Feith; but it is also a day to remember men like General Eric Shinseki and Lawrence Lindsey, who didn't oppose the war, but knew what it would require. They turned out to be low estimates - particularly Lindsey's - but the were intellectually honest and they lost their jobs for their trouble. Today is "Mission Accomplished" day and the White House's minister of propoganda press secretary, Dana Perino, couldn't be more insulted that anyone would have the temerity to bring that up.
"President Bush is well aware that the banner should have been much more specific and said `mission accomplished' for these sailors who are on this ship on their mission," White House press secretary Dana Perino said Wednesday. "And we have certainly paid a price for not being more specific on that banner. And I recognize that the media is going to play this up again tomorrow, as they do every single year." That begs an important question. What price, specifically, did the White House pay? After all, it did get re-elected, which is precisely what the big show on the Lincoln was designed to ensure. They took a hit on what little credibility they had left, but that's hardly comperable to the price being paid by the young men and women of the American military each and every day.
They are under-manned and under-equipped. They are fighting a war that their political masters spent literally years denying the existence of. One day they are told that they're fighting for Iraqi liberity and the next they're told that they're little more than terrorist flypaper. In fact, the White House even blamed the "mission accomplished" banner on the very people it was designed to celebrate.
 And Dana Perino has the gall to complain about the press pointing that out? For a pretty girl, she has an exceptionally large set of balls on her. To people like President Bush and Ms. Perino, this is about the troops, the war, or even American foreign policy. Instead, it's another exercise in "the press isn't being fair to us." It's whining from people who pretend that they're the only ones grown-up enough to to govern. During his last press conference as president, Dwight Eisenhower was asked if he thought he was treated fairy by the media. In response he said "I don't see what a reporter can do to a president, do you?" That's something that all of his successors forgot. Reporters don't destroy presidencies, presidents so. And this one more than most. That's something else that should be remembered on this, the fifth "Mission Accomplished" day. I'm not a huge enthusiast for what journalism has become. When Paris Hilton takes up more space than Robert Mugabe, journalism ceases to be something anyone should take seriously. But they got it right on "Mission Accomplished." That's precisely what they should focus on and that's precisely the debate the public should be having. For an administration that urges democracy and open dialogue is the sands of Mesopotamia, they sure don't seem to encourage it much at home. And that's something else we should take "Mission Accomplished" to mean. "Mission Accomplished" will ultimately be remembered by history as the 21st century equivilent of "I am not a crook." But they are different in that George Bush survived and Richard Nixon didn't. And nobody died because of Watergate. "Mission Accomplished" is the legacy that President George Walker Bush refuses to embrace but will haunt him through the ages. Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Thorn in My Pride By: The Black Crowes From: The Southern Harmony and Musical CompanionLabels: ... And Then You're Gonna Die, Fun With Politics, Journalists Are Swine, The Department of International Relations, The Department of Professional Outrage
|
|
|
Monday, April 28, 2008
|
|
 THE NAKED AND THE DEAD
Last November 12th, Norman Kingsley Mailer; author, journalist, wife-stabber, and all-around dickhead, died at the age of 84. Mailer was self-important in ways that stagger the imagination and his death last fall inspired self-important assholes everywhere into either fits of self-flaggelation or glee.
If you're anything like me, you're fascinated by the passing of the truly ugly and way that the media and art-fags everywhere react to it. And the death of Norman Mailer was almost a national holiday for the pretentious and overwrought everywhere. It was a joyfull time for people like me who never had much faith in the human condition to begin with.
But most of the fury on both sides focused only on Mailer's work (which outside of The Executioner's Song , Tough Guys Don't Dance, and a few of his articles about Muhammad Ali, there isn't much to say anything about) and what a horribly shitty human being he was. But we already knew that he stabbed his second wife, Adele, and allowed Jack Abbott to kill again.
Other than that, there was nothing. In fact, other than some prattle from conservative assholes and their feminist buddies, there was very little about one of Mailer's chief passions: fucking. It was as if the most exhibitionist man in America died because he had nothing left to show us.
Mailer devoted no small amount of ink to the art of fucking. Further, he displayed an extraordinary gift for making fucking the unsexiest thing imaginable. It really was a gift, and one that Norman wasn't recognized nearly enough for.
As an early practioner of what became known as "gonzo journalism", where he became as much a part of the story as its actual subject, Mailer was perhaps the first truly exhibitionist writer in America. And to read him, you would think that every sexual encounter he ever had was recounted in all of its garish glory for us to be repulsed by.
That, it turns out, might not be the case. If bitter former lovers are to be believed, Norman had entire worlds of debauchery that he never shared with us.
He was internationally renowned as a swaggering ladykiller who married six wives, fathered eight children and constantly outraged feminists with his macho pronouncements on women.
One of his mistresses, though, claims to have discovered a different side to Norman Mailer, the volcanic American novelist who died last November at the age of 84.
Carole Mallory, a former model and actress who met Mailer at Elaine's restaurant in New York in 1983, suspected him of having an affair with a male friend, was worried that he might contract Aids and refused to indulge his fantasy of three-way sex with a gay man. Gadzooks! Having a three way with a gay man can be pretty creepy. However, Ms. Mallory doesn't detail whether or not Mailer was to be a top or a bottom. Being a bottom would undermine Norman's lifelong assertion that "tough guys don't dance."
For whatever reason, Harvard decided to buy Carole Mallory's personal papers. Harvard is famously one of the finest institutes of higher learning on the planet. So you might ask yourself what can be learned from the personal papers of a literary outaw's former fuckdoll. And I would answer you by saying "plenty!"
It contains a devastating portrait of Mailer’s sexual decline from world-class lothario to malfunctioning lover whose soon-to-be-former mistress wrote in her diary: "I feel so good not having sex with him . . . he does sexually to me what he likes done to him." That's gotta hurt. Who knew that Norman Mailer was so selfish in bed? Although, how Norman managed to give Carole a nasty blowjob remains a mystery.
At one point in April 1990, when Mailer was 67 and married to his sixth wife, Norris Church, Mallory worried that her lover of the previous seven years "could get Aids".
Three weeks later, she wrote that Mailer had asked her what other men she would like to sleep with. When she mentioned a man named Paul, Mailer is said to have replied: "He’s gay. Why don’t we all three f***?" "He's gay. Why don’t we all three fuck?" That might be the most stilted sentence in the history of the English speaking peoples. Coming as it does from one of the twentieth century's most celebrated writers makes it all the more perplexing.
But the problems between Carole and our hero go far beyond Norman's assorted acts of faggotry.
"Why don’t you get me an apartment?” Mallory complains in one draft letter. "You are using me and conning me just to get laid . . . If you cared about me you'd pay my rent." And that proves that Carole is a fucking daredevil. She was just a mistress, after all. One can safely assume that Mailer cared for his second wife, and he nearly stabbed her to death at a party. My guess is that the fucking rent wasn't the barometer by which Norman gagued his affection.
Among the things we learn about from the Harvard archive are Ms. Mallory's own demented literary ambitions.
When the Mailer-like character in Mallory's draft novel strips naked before her, she writes: "I gaze in wonder at his attributes." When they begin to make love: "I chew on his cohorts of power." Now I'm not blowing sunshine up my own ass here, but I like to keep my cohorts of power beautifully shaved and the area around them groomed to perfection. The last thing I need is for some hack of a broad author chewing on those fuckers. Christ, I had one girlfriend who merely sucked on them too hard and I was paralyzed for a friggin' week! My cohorts of power are important to me and treating them like something you'd entertain a puppy with only ruins everybody's fun. On the other hand, I was disabused of the notion that I was carrying around a set of titanium wondernuts in my smoothly shaven sack, so I guess I learned something.
But what the fuck is this woman thinking?
And it turns out that this is the sort of claptrap she produced with Mailer editing her work.
At one point Mailer changes his mistress’s prose from "stick that up your English tushy" to "stick that up your Hungarian bottom". He also recommends that Mallory delete a reference to "nibbling his bullets". I like to think of myself as well-versed in the ways of l'amour, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I have no idea what any of those things are supposed to mean. Is this how retarded people fuck?
Mailer was generous with literary recommendations and contacts. Of her 50-page sex scene– which Mallory claimed she wrote on a dare from Mailer – the Pulitzer prizewinning novelist wrote: "I must tell you that the protracted sex scene is one of the best I've ever read, right up there and probably above Erica Jong and worthy of Henry Miller. He would have loved it." That might be damning with faint praise. You see, Erica Jong is stupid and Henry Miller is fucking dead!
But no one should be surprised about the things a man will say to get a woman to chew his cohorts of powers. Our Hungarian bottoms have no conscience whatsoever.
I guess the best way to close this tragic and tawdry tale is with the words of one of Norman's alleged homosexry compatriots. "The outlandish claims of scorned women never surprise me."
Amen. And let this be Norman Mailer's final lesson to us all. Whenever possible, try to outlive your sex partners. We've just seen what happens when you don't.
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: The French Inhaler By: Warren Zevon From: Warren Zevon
Permalink Labels: Celebrity Skin, Journalists Are Swine, Laughter Joy and Lonliness and sex and sex and sex, The Department of Love Letters
|
|
|
Sunday, April 27, 2008
|
|
 PUTIN DON'T TAKE NO MESS
I'm of the mind that if you run a large, complicated and almost entirely backward country, you should get all of the extracurricular pussy you can handle. But, as Bill Clinton found out, that causes endless amounts of bullshit, mostly from asshole Republicans and his busybody wife. And Clinton appears to have been exclusively a mouth man.
Russian president Vladimir Putin has been learning about how that works of late. However, Russians - their experience with communism notwithstanding - are far more practical than are Americans and they tend to applaud their leaders getting strange trim, if only because it keeps their minds off of sending the populace to gulags and whatnot.
For the last month or so, the Russian media has been agog with rumors that Putin has been fucking former olympic gymnast and current member of the Duma Alina Kabaeva. If the rumors are true, Putin is very smart.
A modern gentleman always strives to couple with women who can contort themselves in sexually productive ways and likes to get naked for the media. Women are attracted to power and men are attracted to women who can flip their crotches over their heads, thereby aligning all of their girly-holes perfectly. Not only is that the way things are, it's they way they ought to be. To get upset with this is to be upset with human biology, which is something of a Republican specialty.
When one finds himself a 55 year old man and has the opportunity to hammerfuck a 104 pound, 24 year old girl who can put herself in extraordinarily useful positions, one should always do so.
 Of course, you could point out that President Putin is married, but that proves that you're an idiot. First wives never count, particularly when they are unable to flip their crotches over their heads. If you don't believe me, just ask Newt Gingrich. He'll learn you, but good.
Fucking a gymnast is something everybody should do at least once. And once you do, you'll find it difficult to avoid alerting the media. That's just the way it works.
However, journalists, as we all know, are swine and are incapable of leaving well enough alone. The journalistic class has taken something as pure and innocent as fucking a 24 year old, 104 pound gymnast into something tawdry, like marrying a 24 year old, 104 pound gymnast.
That's obviously going too far. Every gentleman knows that one never marries a girl who can flip her crotch over her head when you're already fucking her. And Vladimir Putin is more than just your typical gentleman, he's the president of a goddamned country. He can do all manner of cool things, like fire nuclear weapons at those who annoy him or poison them with plutonium. And you think your Trans Am is cool?
As president, Vladimir can also fuck with the vermin in the press corps in ways that must keep George W. Bush awake at night. It takes a special form of stupid that can only be found in journalism school to fuck with a guy who can poison you with plutonium.
 Well, the president of the Russian Federation is about to teach them that Putin don't take no mess!
Russia's lower house of parliament voted Friday to widen the definition of slander and libel and give regulators the authority to shut down media outlets found guilty of publishing such material. The legislation, passed by the State Duma 339-1, is the latest attempt by the government to squeeze the country's increasingly embattled news media.
How would you like to be the one member of the Duma who voted against the measure? Unless that member was Alina, it probably wasn't a very smart thing to do.
The bill allows authorities to suspend and close down media outlets for libel and slander -- punishment that is identical to that for news media found to be promoting terrorism, extremism and racial hatred.
It also expands the definition of slander and libel to "dissemination of deliberately false information damaging individual honor and dignity." It turns out that Putin's pecs of steel and absolute power over the state can be intimidating, but mostly his absolute power over the state.
I'll bet those scumbag reporters are sorry now.
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Papa Don't Take No Mess By: James Brown From: Star Time
PermalinkLabels: Journalists Are Swine, Laughter Joy and Lonliness and sex and sex and sex, The Academy of Gentlemanly Studies, The Death of Democracy, The Department of Love Letters, The War On Fun
|
|
|
| |
