- In the year 5766, be resolved: don't be anyone's challah-back girl. (DCist)
- This blogger supports the Butterstick Appellation Front. Fifty-four forty or fight, bitches! (Unrequited Narcissism)
- Poor baby. Sorry, everything's not always about you. (Requited Narcissism)
- Well, if we aborted every white baby in this country, there's at least a slim chance that some Enron employees wouldn't have gotten bilked out of their retirement savings. So...there. (Post)
- Hmmmmm. I told you not to take that bet! (Post)
- Oh. And if I were a grocery store, someone from Wilmer, Cutler and Pickering would be winning a shopping spree right now.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
By Travis Mills
what a weird freakin day -- woke up early to help amy get off to work,[While Travis Mills couldn't stand anymore living next to LES hipsters, he'll still come up and cook some cue for 'em. If they ask nice.]
making her tea and a breakfast sammich, etc....then couldn't get back
to bed so i've been immersed in headline news, cnn, msnbc all
of course the big talk of the morning was the mike brown smackdown of
yesterday, followed by a lead up to gov blanco's expected testimony
where she'd get to deliver her response to the nitwit's misguided
claims.....(who knows really if nagin and blanco really were culpable
-- if they didn't cooperate or were hitting the panic buttons and
running around like headless roasters -- brown is a perfect scapegoat
for obvious reasons and no amount of spin can dismiss the notion that
he was the wrong guy in the wrong place at the worst time.....a sort
of theme for Bush n' Co. Basically the Chicago Bears DB Mike Brown
would have been as effective.)
Another congressional hearing was the big steroid all stars conference
-- in all its fluffy, completely irrelevant and probably
inconsequential glory......but it did distract mccain all day,
because, what, he's the self-appointed head of the congressional
athletic ethics committee? ga-jeez, can't we get this guy to do some
real ass-scrubbing out there.....that's like benching wilt chamberlain
for bugs bunny.
Then there's the whole Lynde England Abu Grahib sentencing where NO
ONE in the SCLB even thinks of mentioning Rumsfeld as possibly
partially responsible -- bringing to close a HUGE win for Rove, who
was able to spin away any semblance of a connection between the people
running the military and the actual people IN the military.....now
THAT was a neat trick.
Next up, even more Rovian masterminding, as Bush calls a ridiculously
superfluous Rose Garden press conference to talk about winning the war
on terror after being briefed by US Forces generals who have been
leading the seemingly losing effort against the insurgency....RIGHT as
Blanco is delivering her opening statements at her testimony! So more
meaningless bloviating even as news of another suicide bombing breaks
JUST to add another line to the script of the day's news, giving less
airtime to Blanco and whatever incriminating words she was drumming up
for live ears.....first of all, shouldn't the generals who are leading
the fight against terrorist aggression (or whatever moniker the
quagmire has these days) be IN iraq to do their business? Who's in
charge over there right now? second of all, how much news does there
have to be in one day? was the idea to just get people to turn off the
tv, so what happens later doesn't get picked up?
Even the story about the japanese scientists who have new footage of a
giant squid seemed to recall the how comprehensive the reach of the
Bush machine's tenticles really is.....
Just another day in Bushland.
Ah, but then here comes Ronnie Earle -- a knight in shining blue
armor, landing a huge haymaker on the right side of Bush's fucking
phony ass face. An indictment of DeLay means instant Trent
Lottification of this steaming pile of armadillo shit -- a gigantic
bruise on the party's cheek, since they all elected the fucker to lead
their majority cronyship in the first place -- and a further coup is
the timing of the trial can be dictated by Travis Co. lefties, meaning
they'll pull the obviously Rovian manuever of dredging up the big dirt
right around, oh, say October 2006.
"I learned it from you, Rove! I learned it from watching you!"
Well, of course Slim Sinister will weasel good and slickity out of
this one, as he's done teflon-like seemingly thousands of times in the
last 5 years, but DeLay is a huge casualty for them, and whatever
leakage and connections Rove will be able to whistle away, will still
get out there even if it just more moveon.org
conspiracy-mongering....but this feels right....this one feels like
it'll make a dent -- that the dems are finally learning to just get
out of the way as the dominos fall over and over in Bush World and
maybe real folk will finally start to the long laborious process of
re-learning how to use their god-given (get it? god?) logic
systems.....and get it through their thick as shit skulls that this
ain't the most reliable bunch of folks guarding the sanctity of our
more perfect union. maybe? is it so much to ask, this?
is this the beginning of the paradigm shift? is this where americans
finally start to look for deeper attributes to their leaders than
their denomination or war record? can we have a little more skepticism
back in our lives as opposed to the git majority blindly following the
factless bullshit they've lapped up over the past five years? will it
happen so fast we won't even notice? probably -- these days of short
attention spans, news cycles have 24 increments with which to work
before news becomes olds.....and houses of cards fall quick -- so it
could just be a momentary instant -- first delay, then a bush
impeachment charge and as every house and senate republican tries to
get out of the way of and cut ties with each other for fear of being
dragged down with it, you have a fractious cracked glass, just as the
dems start to realize being on message doesn't mean having to say
you're sorry. mccain can just say, he MADE me do it and dictate policy
for the next 20 years, ben affleck will be a shoe in for va senator
and the biden/obama, obama/clinton regimes can enjoy their happy,
progressive respective 8 year stints helming this fucked country......
ah, a boy can dream......
if this feels too good, it probably won't last. there will be plenty
of more news being churned out of the WH hitting the airwaves in the
next few days to deflect the delay sting.....but this is a good one,
even if it doesn't last.....it puts a nasty face on a nasty party to
throw big pointy darts at for months......that'll feel good. let's see
dean grow some hair on his already gigantic balls and be a big old
fonz on this one, cool, respectful to Mr. and Mrs. C, but boning
Joanie on his Harley in the garage for all the world to see.
all i know is that the scream that brought down his campaign was
screamed again today and it probably made everyone in the room laugh
this time.....and in a good good way.
Posted by The Deceiver at 9/29/2005
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
First off. Desmond: so not Aussie. Bad voice teacher! Bad! That's it. I'm pulling out the dialect tapes. Second, IMDB: not so much reliable with the guest stars. We are promised an appearance from Katey Segal--who'll no doubt have 8...or 4 or 15 or 16 or 23 or 42 simple rules with her. Also, announced on Pitchfork, The Hold Steady will be making a guest appearance. Tight.
Well, if you were wondering about the identities of "the Others", we can safely say that we know who one of them is: Akira Kurosawa. That's because a good portion of tonight's episode is actually last week's episode, recut and repurposed, Rashomon steez, so you can get a headful of what happened to Johnny Locke between the time Kate got sucked down the hatch and Jack showed up, memories of When In Rome songs in tow, to make with the saving. Anyway, Locke goes after Kate, only to find himself on the business end of Desmond's gun. Desmond makes with a huge serving of confusioncakes, and asks Locke if he is "him." Locke, knowing the answer to be at least grammatically correct, answers in the affirmative, but is undone when Desmond asks "What did one snowman say to the other." Uh, duh. Can you smell carrots? Desmond is using a joke handed out with hot lunch in grade school as his shibboleth? Well, Locke, as you know, has got no time for jokes, between all the time he spends ruminating on being Mr. Miracle Man-slash-Heart of the Lonely Boar Hunter, so he doesn't know it and it lands him in hostageland and Kate in prisonerville--but not before Locke slips Kate a knife. And don't worry--Kate's played knifey-spooney before.
Anyhoo, we come to find out that Desmond, vacillating inconsistently between the belief that the world has ended and the belief that everyone topside is sick, has been trapped inside an elaborate, Satanic, Price is Right game where he's got to enter that fateful set of cursed numbers everytime the ceiling-mounted timer ticks into the two minute warning. If he does it correctly, the showcase he wins is full of British candy bars and Repo Man style canned olives and peanut butter. He has Locke do this for him at gunpoint, and the clock resets to 108. Now pull out a piece of scratch paper kids, and start adding. See? Interesting. From there, Jack arrives for his big reveal from last week, only now we know that Kate is watching from an air duct, above.
Mostly, this episode concerns the fate of the Rainbow PUSH Oceanaire Club and Rafting Society Unlimited after they were set upon by the Stevedores of the Damned aboard Scuffy the Evil Tugboat. And, more importantly, Michael, bereft of special psychic child--who we know from last week has got "the shinning"--is given the flashback treatment. Poor Mike. It burns being broke, hurts to be heartbroken and losing your son to your babymomma and her super sexified jetsetting legal career must be a drag.
She's been calling him again, and this time, she's jetting off to Rome or some shit and she wants Michael to waive his parental rights. As his lawyer explains, Walt "will be just like any other child [he] passes on the street." Which, were it my case, would mean Walt's either a member of MS-13 or a Graham Webb hairdressing student, but I digress.
Michael takes super sexified babymomma into the thicket of legal entanglements, and we see him being deposed by the snidest lawyer from the firm of Long, Stiletto and Ribcage. Michael's lawyer obviously didn't give him that speech they give people in TV shows about how to answer the question "Do you know what time it is?" that teaches them in humbling fashion about how one behaves at a deposition. That's what happens when you fail to retain Shayna for these sorts of things.
Meanwhile, back at sea, the lone survivors of the Rainbow PUSH Oceanaire Club and Rafting Society Unlimited--Michael and Sawyer, are settling in for a long night of pussified bickering. Michael's all: you made me fire the flare! Sawyer's all: I'm pulling a bullet out my arm with my bare hands. Sawyer's hair, at the very least, seems to have grown longer and sexier and more dangerous as a result of the misadventure, so, he's got that going for him. Sawyer and Mike fight and claw and bitch some more, and just when you're finally thinking, "God, you two. Just fuck already!" Sawyer flops onto another raft. But Sawyer's got his thinking hair on, and after a fashion, coolly reckons that as Scuffy wasn't built for the high seas, the Stevedores must be close by--maybe back at the Isla de Encanta.
Back in flashback, Mike and Mommy come to an agreement. And the agreement is this: Mike's just in no shape to take on the responsibility of Walt, and furthermore, Walt would only get in the way of Mike pursuing his awesome artistic talent. From what we've seen, Mike mainly seems to work in the medium of constipation, but after much cajoling, Mike sees this line of thinking as reasonable and agrees to embrace his Blue Period. And, hey, maybe he can be in the shittier two Matrix movies! That'll show them. Mike and Walt part ways in a memorable, and touching scene, in which he asks Momma, "Does Walt like bears? Like, you know, POLAR BEARS, maybe? Polar bears he can BRING TO LIFE with his MIND, perhaps?"
Sawyer and Michael resume their night, dodging sharks, leaping to pontoons and playing the blame game as if they were the co-heads of the Federal Emergency Management Agency. The next morning, they wake up and see that the currents have led them right back to Isla de Encanta. Like we didn't see that coming.
But hey--here's something we really didn't see coming! It's Jin! He comes barreling out of the jungle, and he's got his arms tied behind his back and he's yammering in Korean, "Guys! Run! The craft services JJ has set up on this particular shoot are thoroughly subpar." Michael and Sawyer frantically untie him, asking him what's the matter. Finally Jin shouts "The others!" and all the little pissant fucks who've taken over the comments over at Why.I.Hate.DC exclaim, "Well, it's about time Kim Chee started tryin' to assimilate!"
Next week: Looks like Jin and Sawyer and Michael are going to get dusted in the dark up in Penetration Park. I hope that "the others" are actually Sleestaks!
- "Wow. Wow. Thank you. Ha! Yes. Yes. Thank you. Thank you all so much! Wow. You know...when DCSOB and I set out to ear-tag the most loathsome people in Washington, DC, We really operated without a net. We'd never really collaborated on anything before. We may have made the odd misjudgement along the way, and he and I didn't agree on everyone who got included. But, this honor we've received today...our first indictment! It just comes as such validation that our first stumble through this process was ultimately something that brought the world something positive. And this is a guy we both agreed should be near the top of the list! I can't tell you how happy--and I think I speak for both of us--how happy this news has made us. I was pumping my fist and cheering! It's--it's...wow. There are so many people to thank. Too many. So just...thanks to all of you. For being a part of this. DCSOB! We did it! We did it!" (Happiness!)
- What we said then, dig the prescience in bold: "He may be the most despicable piece of vermin currently darkening our fair city -- if he went swimming in New Orleans, he'd be mistaken for a nutria and shot for sport. Having ground what little ethical compass he may have possessed under his bootheel long ago, Delay has graduated from party hack to fusspot tinhorn despot through graft and intimidation. He uses poor children as a front for his backroom money deals, sluicing money to and fro between cronies and PACs cheating whatever system he can't just game. He's called The Hammer because of the way he manhandles his Congressional colleagues, but out in the real world, he's actually a noteworthy pussy. There's no one in Washington more roaring drunk on power: the most famous story of Delay's classless behavior was his response to Ruth's Chris Steak House manager Tom Khandker, who, after pointing out that Delay's smoking inside the building (the restaurant was housed in a Smithsonian property) was prohibited by the federal government, received Delay's ill-tempered rejoinder: "I am the Federal Government." In the future, Tom, your response should be: "Really? Well, then, as my public servant, I am going to suggest that if you don't want me to bend you over my knee and extinguish your cigar somewhere in the vicinity of your duodenum, you'll take you and your stogie the hell outside before you get throatpunched." Of course, there is an upside to Delay: apparently, his daughter is a huge skank."
- What would I ask Michael Crichton if I were on a panel that had invited the fiction author to expound on the topic of global warming, a topic on which he has no expertise? I'm thinking something like: "Oh, shut the FUCK up, Congo-boy." (Wonkette)
- As much as I like Cafe Saint Ex's visionary policy, I think that a rule exemption should be drawn up for local actor and affable Brit Hugh T. Owens, who can, in fact pull this look off. And trust me, the rest of you poppers...YOU CAN'T. (DCist)
- Oh. It's too good to not read AGAIN! (Suck it, asshat!)
- I've described over at Jen Carlson's awesome blog The Daily Refill, the Curious Event of William Mapother in the Night-Time. Tell me: is that some freak ass shit 'r what?
- If you were Walt, and you were attempting to astrally communicate in Twin Peakspeak with the islanders, and you found yourself talking with Shannon, would you: a) attempt to communicate with Shannon, or b) say, "Dayum, bitch! Would you put Sayid on the motherfuckin' phone already?"
- Consider: Hurley's Lottery Numbers: 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42. CURSED. Chicago's hit song: 25 or 6 to 4. NOT CURSED. Explain that!
- Special treat tonight for you four or five fans of the show Enterprise.
Thanks to Travis Mills!
[Apropos of this entry, in case you're joining us late.]
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
- Welcome back, Reliable Source! Now powered by Roxanne Roberts and dear close personal friend Any Argetsinger! (It's okay if I call you that, right, Amy?) Right off the bat, it comes with a Sabato quote--the sweet aroma of alumni synergy! We LIKEY. (Reliable Source)
- Professionals at AU have turned on embattled President Ben Ladner. We still wonder how a school swimming in tuition money runs aground on the half-million Ladner spent on himself. Maybe that was the half-mil that was going to making the AU campus less tatty-looking, who knows? But for all this tough talk from the deep water, what do you want to bet that at the end of the day, AU provides Ladner with a beautiful pair of solid-gold water wings? You don't want to take that bet, believe me. Hey! Maybe Ladner can run FEMA! (Washington Post)
- Fairfax County announces that they will rebrand as "FxVA" in an attempt to bring attention to the edginess-slash-hipness of their locale. Holy Dharma Coffeehouse revisionism! Oh, Fairfax, land of my youth...you realize that this is a totally fucking Band Camp thing to do, don't you? (DCist)
- It's said that as Cindy Sheehan was arrested yesterday, onlookers chanted "The whole world is watching." How does that chant scan exactly? Not very rhythmic, if you ask me.
- Why wait to sit on Trent Lott's front porch? This Craigslist poster points out that the Senator's got one close at hand that everyone can enjoy right now. (Craigslist)
Posted by The Deceiver at 9/27/2005
So the latest thing is that Hurricane Katrina has freed the Navy's secret fleet of weaponized dolphins. According to the London Observer, this 36 member pack of dolphins have been trained to use dart guns, and were housed, inexplicably, in "training Ponds near Lake Pontchartrain."
Now, forgive us if we think the notion of a Dolphin Army is, as they say, totally hotshit awesome. For everyone who's ever dreamed of a world in which sharks with fricking laser beams on their heads do our bidding in the global effort to do whatever the hell we're doing, dart-gun wielding dolphin mercenaries are a vital step in the process. And, like the caption says, I think the term "cetacean death squad" carries with it that certain je ne sais quoi that fits in with and expands our understanding of the batshit crazy times we livin' in. Let's face it: when aliens discover the wrecked remnants of our civilization, do we want them to carry on for years wondering what the fuck happened to us? Seems to me that if they have the opportunity to exclaim: "Holy shit! These guys trained dolphins to fight wars with dart guns!" it's going to save those alien researchers a whole lot of time drawing the correct conclusions.
Sadly, rumors of dolphin warfare have likely been greatly exaggerated. Snopes is still looking into this, but right now, they've got this rumor catagorized as a "Probably Not."
What if we were able to turn this Probably Not into a "Hell yes?" Let's take a brief look at the pros and cons.
- The only terrorist who could defeat our dolphin army is Aquaman.
- There's no doubt that teaming Jack Bauer up on 24 with a counter-terrorist dolphin would be the cutest fucking thing ever.
- What enemy wouldn't be intimidated by the average dolphin's forearm-length wang?
- Left-leaning dolphin war heroes with amputated fins would probably still lose Georgia Senate race to shitheads like Saxby Chambliss.
- Are we really prepared to see these adorable sea creatures in photos abusing Iraqi prisoners?*
- It's only a matter of time before some poor mother of Flipper's camped out in Crawford, Texas yelling in that pip-pip-pip dolphin language about how her son died for a lie, surrounded by protestors ladling sea water onto her blowhole.
*This would be a good time for a Photoshopping Friend of DCeiver to mock up a great picture of a dolphin version of Lynndie England. Just sayin'.
Posted by The Deceiver at 9/27/2005
Friday, September 23, 2005
- So, Nicole...my favorite BMX Bandit of all time, welcome back to your first hometown! We've changed a little, babe, since u been gone, but even though these days we have a different sort of Bush Christmas than the ones you're used to, but I think you'll agree that we've done a lot of sprucing up the place. Anyway, what do you know, Nic? Here you are, chilling in my neighborhood, and here's me, sitting on an extra Death Cab For Cutie ticket! Funny coincidence, wouldn't you say? Aww, girl, you know I saved it for you. Stars are opening, you know. (AP)
- Hey, check it! Guess who broke some news today? (DCist)
- I'm checking out the CPMC's latest incomprehensible post, mere days after their public dispute with the DC Bachelor, and it's the same old story. When you rush into a blogwar without a plan to win the blogpeace, it's quagmire city, baby.
- DC Metroblogs posts tomorrow's scheduled line-up of acts for the Operation Ceasefire concert. On their schedule, they identify the Fort Knox Five as the act that will be going on at 1:00 am, and offer an theory about who the Fort Knox Five are: "...which I suspect will be Jello [Biafra] performing with an all-star cast of a backing band." Say, Metroblog Mike, that's an interesting theory and all, but if you don't mind, I'm going to operate under the premise that the Fort Knox Five are not so much a Biafra fronted all-star act as they are the actual Fort Knox Five. But yeah, guy, your idea is really pretty and stuff. (Metroblogs)
- So, I just had a realization that could mean I'm the first to realize something (0.5% probability) or the last one to get the joke (99.5% likely). It occurs to me that this "Holly Martins" who writes over at Wonkette may in fact be a pseudonym named for Joseph Cotten's character in The Third Man. If that's the case, that's actually deliciously subversive! And if that's not the case, we'd still like to know if he'd feel any pity if one of those dots down there stopped moving.
BrooklynVegan's given voice to a question I've been mulling over for the past few days. Who's going to be the next Arcade Fire--the next obscure band lifted to prominence on the wings of bloggers, early adopters, and urbanite word-of-mouth mavens.
BV has nominated three possibilities: Wolf Parade, Wintersleep, and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. Now, I am fairly certain that it won't be Wolf Parade, owing to the fact that Wolf Parade suck great big drippy dromedary balls. Cut it and print it, bitches. Never mistake activity for achievement, peoples. As for Wintersleep, well, I haven't heard them yet, so I'll be presumptuous and say maybe. Of the three, the most likely candidate is Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. I certainly feel like they're a damn fine band, and I remember when word started to trickle out about them, the sort of buzz they got was, in many ways, similar to the experience of watching the Arcade Fire's prominence slowly unfold. But, thus far, I'd be lying if I told you that CYHSY's wave has crested in the same way. Right now, it feels like an imitation more than a duplication. Not trying to slight anybody--it's just not reached that level of overwhelmingness yet, and I'm not sure it will.
Hopefully, by this time tomorrow, me and the ILB will be officially going to see the show at The Black Cat--I want to see for myself what their show is like, even if Kyle's going to be insisting all night that Mylo is the new Arcade Fire.
One nagging doubt: What if The Hold Steady is the next Arcade Fire, and we're not paying adequate attention?
Also: What's a blogga gotta do to see some good HTML on De Novo Dahl?
Finally: I'd like to know who the next Morrissey is going to be, and by that I mean what standardbearer from the wayback's gonna drop the massive "dont call it a comeback" disc on us? Have you heard this?
- Free tickets for bloggers for the awesomest and most hotly anticipated movie of 2005? Ooooh. Me want! (Instapundit)
- Eleanor Holmes Norton is fighting for DC's rights once again, this time by demanding fair and equal representation in the U.S. Capitol's Statuary Hall, where each state is allowed to place two statues. I'm not sure what the point is sticking two more non-voting simulacrae in the U.S. Capitol is. Maybe Norton just needs to feel superior to someone or something up on Capitol Hill. She can walk up to the DC statues and be all: "Check me out bitches! I'm fucking ambulatory!" Anyway, getting her way in this matter is going to set a clear precedent later on this year, when Norton plans to fight to get Washington DC equal representation in the Christmastime Secret Santa celebration at the Capitol. (Currently, Washington DC's participation in the Secret Santa is limited to a single "Shadow" Santa who is permitted to enter their name once.) (DCist)
- John Kelly comes perilously close to giving a Butterstick shout-out. (Post)
- Is it just me, or does every paragraph of this article on missing VCU freshman Taylor Marie Bell just scream "That's so wrong!!" Because as a former VCUer, it do not sound good to me. I only knew two thirty-eight year old men on the VCU campus while I was there--one was dotty and had frequent, day-long blackouts, the other approached me at a Carpenter Center performance of Kiss Of The Spider Woman and asked if I was into girlfriend swapping. (My response was twofold: "Greg. You don't have a girlfriend. Also: I don't want you to ever speak to me again. He only spoke to me one other time since then, and that was when I ran into him at the grocery store and he was acting as if he just got back from a picnic where the main course was piles of ecstacy.) And those are the thirty-eight year old students I knew. I am not counting the middle aged members of the nearby group home for mental invalids who were all over the campus every day wandering around, who were named Hot Pants, Water On The Brain Man, Candy Bar, Phantom Smoker, Uncle Newsprint, Moth Balls, and The Indian. (Post)
- At American University, the students have a different set of worries, namely, how much money did President Ben Ladner piss away and on what did he piss it. But now I read that we're talking about an amount of money in the neighborhood of $500,000, and I have got to ask, isn't a single student's semester tuition at AU about $500 grand? (Post)
Thursday, September 22, 2005
With memories of Katrina and her aftermath still freshly imprinted on our brainpans, we see now that Rita has grown to Category 5 strength and is bearing down on the Gulf Coast of Texas. Now, many you out there may be friends and acquaintances with someone who works for FEMA, whether it's someone who might be manning a desk in the next hurricane crisis or someone who's planning on going down to Texas soon to be a part of the post-Rita relief and management effort. You saw what happened the last time FEMA had to go and do its job, and many of you may be wondering: "I don't work for FEMA, but is there anything I can do to help out and make sure that FEMA contributes to a successful effort this time around?"
Sure there is!
First, purchase a gas can, then head out to your filling station to put together a modest supply of reserve gasoline. Then, run to your local hardware store and purchase some long lengths of strong chain or a decent sized length of sturdy rope.
Then, once you've successfully lured a FEMA employee into your basement, bind him tightly with the chain or rope so that it's impossible for him to leave. If he struggles, show him the gasoline and tell him that if he doesn't shut up you'll set his ass on fire. Don't worry about having to cook an extra meal to feed the FEMA employee while he are basement-bound! Instead, withhold food and dump feces on him. See how he likes it.
By keeping as many FEMA employees the hell away from any area already struggling with Hurricane Rita, you'll be helping to ensure the citizens of the Gulf Coast that a simple natural disaster isn't compounded by the catastrophic mass ineptitude of these worthless incompetents.
Remember, only you can prevent FEMA.
The National Enquirer reports--errr, I mean, "reports":
"The war in Iraq, the loss of American lives, has deeply affected him. He takes every soldier's life personally. It has left him emotionally drained," [said a Washington source].
"When the levees broke in New Orleans, it apparently made him reach for a shot," said one insider.
Well, if this is true, then this action taken by the President was easily the most responsible thing he did during the entire hurricane crisis, comparatively.
But we don't believe the President slung one back because he was feeling emotionally drained by the loss of American lives. You LIE, National Enquirer! The act of tossing back a shot of liquor in this kind of circumstance would require some degree of empathy, after all.
- The Hill hits up the halls of Congress asking everyone they could get a hold of about what they thought of The Daily Show. It's a pity that they didn't track down Representative Henry Bonilla, because I'd enjoy the opportunity to have him describe for me what it was like to have your ass kicked up and down the street by Jon Stewart. Then again, Bonilla facing Stewart is kind of like bringing a paper throwing-star to a gunfight. (The Hill)
- When the Going Out Gurus attempt humor, you get some very David Brent-like results. Of course, I'm probably wrong for picking on them--they actually made two whole posts today, so they were probably really winded when they embarked on their ill-fated attempt at japery. (Gogblog)
- Kanishka has competition! (Craigslist)
- To be honest, Coldplay doesn't burn my rectum as much when I'm trying to shit it out. Other than that, though, I think your whole premise has real merit. (Craigslist)
- In the past week's City Paper, Jason Cherkis and Erik Wemple describe how the Washington Post's STYLE section has been unusually resistant to poach attempts from the New York Times. They're right in pointing out how the STYLE Section remains one of the Post's great strengths, with cultivated personalities, looser reigns, and a greater free-for-all atmosphere that brings in a wide variety of stories. (It's markedly better than the like section of the NYT, to boot.) However--I know of the existence of at least one STYLE writer who would only be too happy to be poached by the Grey Lady. He'd wet his tiny panties with joy. Of course, it's absolutely no surprise to anyone as to why he hasn't been asked! *Sigh* But I'm sure you have no problem guessing who I'm talking about. (City Paper)
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Some of us blogger types like the Lost, baby. Tonight, we pick up from where it left off last year (or in my case, last Saturday) and meet the dude that lives in the hatch. It's not Richard Hatch. It's not Orrin Hatch. It's Desmond, a mysterious Aussie from Jack's past. Everyone has a mysterious Aussie from their past. I know I do. Ol' Desmond's been lurking down the hatch, chilling, riding his exerbike, shooting himself up with meds, listening to his Cass Elliot LP's, and just being a dick.
What's up with Aussies being dicks on this show? Here you go, Jack's dad, have some more demon liquor. Fuck you, Sawyer, we're deporting you. Sorry, Kate, we just have a thing for betraying confidences. No, we won't move our island any closer to Los Angeles so your fix will last the entire flight Charlie. I spit on your guts and fortitude in the face of adversity, Locke. Dicks dicks dicks. Claire's the only Aussie on the show that's not a total dick, and they probably want her on that plane just because she won't go along with the whole dick hegemony. Maybe that's what Lost is about: it's JJ Abrams saying, "Yo. Don't be fooled by the slaphappy music of Men At Work! Them Aussies be mad dicks."
In Desmond's case, it seems that one evening, long ago, while he and Jack were trying out for an independently produced Under Armour commercial, Desmond put the mad whammy jammy on Jack and gave him the power of promise. Jack goes back to to check on Julie Bowen to tell her her back's busted and that Ed's never coming back from permanent hiatus. Sure enough, motherfuckin' Jack be all: "I'm sorry but I'm just thinking of the right words to say." And Julie's all "I know they don't sound the way you planned them to be." But then, Julie Bowen's all leg tingly! And then pathos ensues. And then they're all, "Let's get married." And Matt Foxy gets rid of that awful haircut. And ever since, Jack's totally been Mr. When You Are In Doubt Or If You're In Danger Take a Look All Around And I'll Be There.
Except, of course, you happened to have left last season as a member of the Rainbow PUSH Oceanaire Club and Rafting Society Unlimited. I'm a little pissed that we didn't find out what happened to those cats, who, if you recall, ran afoul of the Stevedores of the Damned aboard Scuffy the Evil Tugboat. The only shout-out they get is when Shannon "I Ain't Sayin' She a Golddigger" Rutherford goes out in the woods with Sayid looking for Vincent Van Dog, only to run into the ghostly image of a dripping Walt, who's trying to tell Shannon that he's trapped on the soundstage from Twin Peaks, which gets the thoughtful response, "WAAAALLLT!?!" from Shannon. Walt then replies, "The owls are not what they seem." And Shannon's all "WAAALLLLT?!?" And then Sayid shows up to ruin the moment, thus preventing any further interrobanging.
Meanwhile, back at the Hatch, Jack and Locke and presumably Kate end up down in Desmond's hidden geodesic chamber of antiquated computer equipment, where he and Jack are face to face and gun to gun. Desmond is in the unique position to answer some of the lingering questions from last season, so, with that in mind, look for him to die before the second act next week!
Mayor Nagin, what the fuck are you doing, dude?
I mean, frealsies. Your city is still encased in sludge, human remains are still being carted out, and on top of everything else, it looks like Hurricane Rita might yet break off a foot in your ass if the winds blow just so.
So why are you making with all the in-out, in-out.
I can understand your position, Mayor. I pretty much think that through those early days of Katrina aftermath, you were a man more sinned against than sinning. We all know you to the extent you deserved to get piled on, you got double your share because you carry that capital letter "D" after your name, and folks in your position pretty much get blamed by the Feds and attacked by the media. Of course, I also know you aren't as "D" as some say. Heh. We get it: you complicated and shit. Hell, maybe now, Katrina's got your ass radicalized.
Hey, I don't know. But the rush to get your peeps resituated in the Big Easy--it makes you look retarded. It makes you look dotty. It shifts that balance of sinned against versus sinning to the side of the sheet you don't want. Especially now that you've had to pull 'em all out again. At best, you put yourself in the position where you had to cave politically--at worst, you re-risked thousands of lives. And for what? A chance to get your Moses on? Re-establish your tax base? You figure drunk-ass college buffoons will have nowhere else to go?
Anyway you slice it, Ray, it was a stupid decision. It costs you nothing to prudently wait to be given the all-clear. So chill out. Relax.
For what it's worth, I hope you get your "Mission Accomplished" banner hung up before Commander Cuckoo Bananas does.
DALLAS, TX--As Emmitt Smith squinches up his face like a retard, Troy Aikman reaches to manually check Michael Irvin's temperature as Irvin excitedly explains how he'll be able fill his new serving bowl with cocaine and put his fat fucking face directly inside.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Ever applied for a job? If you're like me, job hunting can be hard work. Sending out resumes, playing the percentages. You're dropping stones down a well, listening for a splash.
Here's what I hate about job searching. The variables. All the stuff that's beyond your control. The vagaries and proclivities of the hirers. Subtle biases based on where you went to school, where you worked before. That one computer program out of ten on that list of qualifications that you never learned. Why are they still using that in 2005, anyway.
And of course, the references. Maybe it's been too long, and they don't remember you as well. Maybe you didn't leave on the good terms you thought you did. Maybe after you left, they hired a guy who's not as good as you at the job, but good enough at convincing everyone else that you fucked it up and left a mess behind. Maybe the colleague is a buddy of yours, and he's a little too flippant on the phone. Maybe he oversells you. The odds are on your side, sure, but you still worry. It's out of your hands, after all.
Well, I for one am never going to worry about a job reference ever again. Thank you, former FEMA director Michael Brown. You see, when he was being considered for his post, the FBI went around interviewing people from his employment history. They were led to a man named Stephen Jones, a partner at a law firm in Oklahoma City, where he worked alongside Brown. When Jones was told that Brown was being considered for the position of FEMA head, this was the reference Jones gave his illustrious colleague.
"You're surely kidding."
So, yeah. I'm not going to worry about job references anymore. I need the time to worry about everything else.
Posted by The Deceiver at 9/18/2005
Friday, September 16, 2005
- Swing low, sweet Craig of Craigslist. Coming forth to carry me home... (Craigslist)
- DCist describes the upcoming mayoral election in terms of candidate plumage: "If anything, the race will be colorful -- Brown's yellow-themed campaign schwag will contrast nicely against Fenty's green, Cropp's red, Johns' turquoise, and Orange's -- yep, you guessed it -- orange." And if Jack Evans jumps into the race? Hmmm. Our money's on white. (DCist)
- The Upstate Life tips us to Diamondback contributor Emily Apatov's column, in which she issues a call for "Sensible Dick Policy." But check out that third paragraph! Rambling, flailing, no clear thesis...if prose ability translates at all into bedroom demeanor, we're not sure she's earned an appreciation for sensible dick. (Diamondback)
- And, to reciprocate on TUL's typically wry and witty observations, if, on the other hand, Blue States Lose were a weekly chronicling of the coupling of the terminally cloying and clutchy, instead of snapshots of coked out Lower East Siders, this entry would be among it's most vomitous. (Moments with Cassie)
- Tomorrow is Constitution Day, and all around the District schools have been required to hold celebrations and assemblies and symposia. Unconstitutional means to achieve the end of celebrating the Constitution sound paradoxical to you? Don't be silly! It's all part of the due process of sucking it.
"What I'm hearing which is sort of scary is they all want to stay in Texas. Everyone is so overwhelmed by the hospitality. And so many of the people in the arena here, you know, were underprivileged anyway, so this--this [snickering caustically] is working very well for them."I can't tell you the number of people who've commented on the above quote from Barbara Bush the elder by saying something along the lines of, "Why didn't she just say 'Let them eat cake?'"
I hear you, people. But you are forgetting something. These days, cake is actually pretty fucking delicious.
So I've listened very patiently to those that argue that the poor response to Katrina wasn't a black thing. That it was a class thing. A poor thing. Not a race thing. And I want to believe that. I really do.
But I know better. A guy like Mark Williams wants to try to make a point about dependency on government, but he couples it with "They didn?t have the necessary brains and common sense to get out of the way of a Cat 5 Hurricane." I don't need to tell you who it is that doesn't have the brains. Tom DeLay chortles at some evacuee kids, condescending, acting a fool, suggesting that he bets hanging out in a football stadium is "kind of fun." We know who he's standing in front of when he says that. When Representative Richard Baker gives God a shout out for finally "clean[ing] up public housing," we don't need to tarry for any length of time to wonder what the people he imagines in public housing look like. Same goes for Robert Tracinski, when he speaks of people "living off stolen wealth"--he's ironically talking about people who were once considered chattel themselves.
And of course, Barbara Bush, giggling like the painted-up society slagheap that she is, marveling at how Katrina "is working out well for them." Of course, to her, the fact that so many of "them" are deciding to stay in Texas is "scary." That's her word, imagining that hurriedly crossing to the other side of the street is going to become Houston's new pastime.
Yeah, don't get me wrong, cracker done got washed off his land too, as Randy Newman might say, and there's no one coming to help those folks out either--but the clear message coming through is that it's the black residents of the greater New Orleans area that are the "short people." As in, got no reason to live.
Presidential Daily Briefing, September 14, 2005: Bladder determined to burst explosively inside gabardines
1. Say what you like, I preferred the President who didn't ask permission to get his dick sucked to the pussy who needs his handmaiden to get him a hall pass.
2. Those long sessions in the UN Secretariat are exactly the sort of things those "Stadium Buddy" catheter bag devices are made for.
3. The President says he "thinks" he needs a bathroom break. What magical sign of imminent discharge is he waiting for? I suppose this sort of thing must have been easier when he was wasted all the damn time.
4. I don't think anybody anticipated that his bladder wall would be breached.
5. You know what Bush and Condi's relationship reminds me of? The relationship between Captain Zapp Branigan and Kif Kroker on Futurama.
Captain Zapp Brannigan: It was almost the perfect crime, but you forgot the one thing: rock crushes scissors. [Suddenly thoughtful] But paper covers rock. And scissors cuts paper. Kif, we have a conundrum. Search them for paper. And bring me a rock.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
The AP reports this morning that John Roberts has vowed that he would judge cases "according to the rule of law."
Yeah. The "rule of law" and nine bucks will get you some kung pao chicken. This guy reveals in his opening statement that he's a complete tool. Of course he'll judge cases by the rule of law--he doesn't have a fucking choice in the matter.
It's the equivalent of me walking into the CVS across the street from me and vowing to pay for my sundries "with United States currency."
All right golden boy. You're gonna have to do better than that.
Posted by The Deceiver at 9/13/2005
Monday, September 12, 2005
Posted by The Deceiver at 9/12/2005
Friday, September 09, 2005
DCeptette: Don't let the door swing and accidentally displace hundred of thousands of people from their homes on the way out, Michael Brown version.
- We're still deciding what to do with the part of the Full Minute of Mercury interview that DCist chose not to run. We may expand it or run it as is. Regardless, we'll have it by this time next week. Be patient. Go read my review and interview. (DCist)
- Hey! I don't know if you realize this, but if we're down O'Connor and Rehnquist, that means, for the time being, the Republicans don't control the Supreme Court! Whoo-hoo! We win by default! Suck it!
- The 9-11 Freedom March. Everyone has to register in order to participate in the type of parade that was heretofore the milieu of places that ended with the suffix "-grad." From there, participants are fenced in and kept together, the media sequestered away and free speech essentially banned. My only question is will the participants be given as much fresh fruit as they get down in the pens at Gitmo? (DCist)
- DOHS head Michael Chertoff says of the smacked-down Michael Brown of FEMA, "Michael Brown has done everything he possibly could to coordinate the federal response to this unprecedented challenge." Which is to say: He did fuck all. Chertoff added: "Other challenges and threats remain around the world..." Which is to say, "Hey, Brownie, why don't you go lie down in the middle of the road for good measure." Ha. Fuck you and the Arabian horse you rode in on, you worthless piece of shit. (MSNBC)
- The mayoral race to watch: number of visible Linda Cropp signs vs. the number of times Adrian Fenty hosts a formal gathering to officially "kick-off his mayoral campaign."
- Is this one of the "sketches of his culture?"
- Man, those residual checks from The Matrix: Reloaded must be pretty skimpy.
- How long before David Horowitz "discovers the network" and cites Pizza Bolis for radical Marxism?
- It's too bad Tracy Morgan isn't on SNL anymore, because "Pizza Scarfing Cornel West" is so totally the next Brian Fellows.
- Damn, that pizza is nasty, Cornel! You gotta treat your body like a temple, brother!
According to the DCist article that brought this photograph into our lives, DCist Kanishka apparently put a hundred dollar wager out there daring someone to take this picture. Hopefully, this is only the beginning of a photographic scavenger hunt that will find more DCists parting with hard-earned coin. If we had $100 to throw around, here are some pictures we'd like to see taken down on 18th Street:
- Robert Novak scarfing down Amsterdam Falafel.
- Elisabeth Bumiller riding Michelle Malkin in the men's bathroom at Tryst as EJ Dionne looks on.
- Thomas Friedman playing flip cup with the Rock Creek Rambler.
- Ivo Daalder getting baked behind the DCAC.
- Christopher Hitchens--anywhere inside T.S. Muttly's.
While hurricane aftermath has thus far dominated the news, it's important to not lose sight of the other big story--the death of William Rehnquist and the resulting opening on the Supreme Court. As John Roberts gets shifted over to serve as a Chief Justice candidate, plenty of people want to know--who will be Bush's next choice for the Court? Will it be Alberto Gonzalez, who he hinted at during his last cabinet meeting? Will it be one of his controversial judicial picks? A lucky lady pulled from his endless supply of circuit court judges named Edith?
This is a time for speculation in Washington, DC. Well, at least in those lame places in Washington that actual Washingtonians avoid because the speculation is boring. But for once, we're not going to speculate. We're not going to dither. We're not going to sit around weighing the pros and cons of unnattractive people in long black robes. We're going to offer our advice, because, in a time where the floodwaters of strict Constutional constructionism are being held back by the levees of judicial activism, it's pretty crystal clear who George Bush should nominate to the Supreme Court.
Seriously. Hurricane Katrina is easily the best possible choice Bush can make right now. At the moment, Katrina is what could possibly wreck his Presidency. One thing Bush has never shown much deftness for is turning his political rivals into his political teammates. If he taps Katrina for the SCOTUS tomorrow, it will be a sensation. All the critical memes being tossed around in the news will go right out the window as every reporter in the country goes running for their rhyming dictionaries. Overnight, he'll have turned the thing we have come to fear the most into an agent protecting us from fear. Katrina will be an ally in the war on terror, a bulwark against evildoers. The entire media paradigm shifts in his favor.
When you think about it, Hurricane Katrina has everything you could want in a Supreme Court Justice. Viewed in macro, Hurricane Katrina seems, ultimately, as fair and as principled as one can get. Her rains, after all, did fall upon the just and the unjust alike. Who can argue that Katrina's not going to bring an open mind to the bench? At the same time, however, Katrina's judicial record is coded in a way that will appeal to the Republican base, who understand that an unjust person is simply someone too poor or too lacking in political connection to escape the rain in the first place.
As far as rolling back civil rights laws--a key element of contemporary Republican politics--you need only take a look at the faces of the many people who have been displaced by her floodwaters to know that Katrina stands shoulder to shoulder with the Republicans on the issue of racial equality. And you can bet the house that as far as Justice Katrina goes, there'll be no ruling against Gitmo, she's got a long and capable history of keeping innocent people locked up in shitholes for prolonged periods of time.
Hurricane Katrina's nomination would be welcomed with cheers and huzzahs by the religious right as well. She's clearly anti-gambling and against any form of pre-marital sex or sodomy. Best of all, the Christian version of al Qaeda has already treated Katrina with effusive praise for her clear anti-abortion stand. Looney evangelical leaders of all stripes will be comforted in the knowledge that Katrina will be a justice that will overturn Roe vs. Wade without question--which is ironic, considering that when Katrina blows through your town, most motherfuckers are pretty much stuck either rowing or wading.
There are so many good reasons for Bush to tap Hurricane Katrina as a Supreme Court justice that we're frankly stunned it hasn't happened yet. No Senator is going to trip up her confirmation process with mere questioning, that's for sure, and if she gets the nomination, you'll see the media back off from criticizing her immediately because none of them will want to be denied access. But best of all, Hurricane Katrina closely resembles the thing that George W. Bush loves best in all the world:
Thursday, September 08, 2005
"I mean, you have people who don't heed those warnings and then put people at risk as a result of not heeding those warnings. There may be a need to look at tougher penalties on those who decide to ride it out and understand that there are consequences to not leaving."
Rick Santorum, R-PA
So let me get this straight. The Federal Government, despite the fact their members brag to their constituents about all the tax dollars they're bringing home to their districts to protect them from disaster and terror, isn't actually good for suck-all when it counts, and Rick Santorum's grand vision is to punish the victims of hurricanes through legal penalty? How do punish someone who's lost all their possessions? Take their nothing away from them? Seize their zero assets? How many tax dollars will go to recovering bloated corpses so that they might receive a good chiding? No, Mr. Santorum's vision of public service isn't psychotic at all!
You're doing a heck of a job, brownhole.
Posted by The Deceiver at 9/08/2005
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
DCist is proud to lend our support to area singer-songwriter and deserver of many, many demonstrations of mad props Laura Burhenn, who has moved heaven and earth to assemble a benefit concert to raise money for the Katrina relief effort. Please join us this Friday for A Katrina Benefit at the tavern in American University's Mary Graydon Center. From 8pm to 11:45pm, enjoy the music of Gist, Cartel, Paul Michel, RPM, Laura, and Army of Me. Minimum donation for entry is $5, and all proceeds will go to Habitat For Humanity through AU's own Katrina Aid and Relief Effort (KARE) fund.
Check here for other Katrina relief updates, or, follow the link on the sidebar. Updated as events come in.
Posted by The Deceiver at 9/07/2005
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
DCist has introduced Three Stars, a new column that'll help you get to know our local acts a little better. Catherine--who is soon to depart for a year in Chicago--ponies up the first offering, a profile of Death By Sexy. Come back during the week for additional features. Later today, DCist checks in on Barakus. And then Thursday, you'll want to check out my interview with the crazy kids of Full Minute of Mercury.
Our friend Ultragrrrl has been working hard, putting out her special series of Stolen Transmission singles. Well, awhile back, Natalya of Seeking Irony fame posted a blind item informing us that Ultra had turned her sights on the DC area for her next release. Turns out the lucky winner is the buzzed about Her Daily Obsession. Check out Ultra's site for news of the release, anticipated in late October.
We've been enjoying the latest track from The Clientele, "Since K Got Over Me", from their forthcoming record Strange Geometry. We'll get to enjoy them in person at IOTA in October--they'll be playing the 29th at IOTA Club and Cafe with Annie Hayden. And someone, please, keep the Governess calm. Okkervil River, touring in support of an album that not a few people are calling the best of the year so far, will stop into town, also playing IOTA November 14. Charles Bissel of the Wrens cashes in some of his annual leave as the opener.
Finally, Alex Chilton has been found. Children by the millions were fearing the worst, but he's safe and sound. And, no, George Bush doesn't care about members of Big Star, either.
We hope to see people out at the latest iteration of Bluestate, happening this Saturday at the Black Cat. It's the official DC CD release party for stellastarr* and their new LP Harmonies for the Haunted, and will feature special guest DJs from Cricklewood Massive. But more importantly, we hope that all of you who have time come to A Katrina Benefit on Friday.
Posted by The Deceiver at 9/06/2005
Friday, September 02, 2005
Did Kanye West just do what I think he just did?
Things are about to get interesting.
UPDATE: Yep. He sure did.
Things are about to get supercalifreakinbananas.
UPDATE: This seems like a good moment to point out that Late Registration is awesome and can be purchased here.
UPDATE: I was seriously all set to take a nap when, on one last pass through the channels, I happened upon the show on NBC and saw the only 60 seconds of the show that's going to matter tomorrow. Holy shit. Go Kanye.
UPDATE: Okay, I'm all alone here at DCeiver headquarters, thinking about who George Bush does care about. Here's what I know:
"We got a lot of rebuilding to do.... the good news is and it's hard for some to see it now but out of this chaos is going to come a fantastic gulf coast... out of the rubbles of Trent Lott's house -- the guy lost his entire house -- there's going to be fantastic house. I look forward to sitting on the porch. Out of New Orleans is going to come that great city again."Holy shit! That's a priority to him? Rebuilding Trent Lott's house?
UPDATE: Now that I think about it (Trent Lott's house, that is), it occurs to me that they are going to need someplace to hang the "Mission Accomplished" Banner.
UPDATE: This is a warning to Trent Lott: if I find out that your house is rebuilt with any government assistance, I will be coming to burn it down.
UPDATE: Hold up here...I've got a call in to a member of the crack DCeiver staff to verify that Trent Lott isn't black himself. If it turns out Lott is...well, then that shoots a hole in Kanye's theory. DEVELOPING...
UPDATE: Okay. The DCeiver can now confirm that Trent Lott is not, in fact, black. You may now return to your orgy of Kanye West buying.
UPDATE: Brother of DCeiver is now blogging. Go join him in The Cut, reporting live from Nowf Cackalak.
Posted by The Deceiver at 9/02/2005
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Big thanks to Oliver, who advises us that a second Death Cab For Cutie show has been added for Monday, the 24th of October. Some time ago, in DCist, commenters joined contributors in examining the trends and circumstances that lead to dates being added. When we examined DCFC's original tour schedule, many of the signs that astute DCist commenters identified jumped out. As we scanned down, we couldn't help notice that the band was leaving gaps in their schedule as they hit the more prominent American cities--so seeing that Death Cab had no show scheduled on the day following their announced DC date wasn't the least bit surprising.
Through the band, there is a presale going on right now, though, I'm sorry to say, the how's and where's elude me. Oliver: if you're still out there, let us know where to go. According to Oliver, regular tickets go on sale on September 9.
Making the rounds today are these two photos, with accompanying captions.
The picture on the left, captioned by the Associated Press, reads: "A young man walks chest deep through flood water after looting a grocery store in New Orleans on Tuesday, August 30, 2005."
The figures in the picture on the right, captioned by AFP, get special consideration. After all, one of them is demonstrably white. "Two residents wade through chest deep water after finding bread and soda from a local grocery store after Hurricane Katrina came through the area in New Orleans, Louisiana.
Now, Wonkette wonders aloud that maybe the AP should apologize. Personally, we think this lets AFP off the hook--their caption might be the more insidious.
Take a look at the construction of the sentence. The two people in the photo are said to be photographed "after finding bread and soda from a local grocery store." Now, I have a lot of experience finding stuff in things, on things, under and on things. Even among and things. I imagine that before I die, I'll cherish the opportunity to find stuff between, above, below, perhaps even scattered around things. But it's rare to say you found something from another thing. Usually, we'd put "from" there if, say, the thing we found originated somewhere removed from the immediate proximity, like one might find rocks from the moon on your coffee table or monkey shit from the Central Park Zoo in your diaphragm. If I were actually inside the Central Park Zoo, and I said, "Look! I found some monkey shit from the Central Park Zoo!" I'd be saying five extra words than necessary.
"Finding bread from a local grocery store" is technically grammatically correct, but it's a deeply fucked usage, and, in general, journalists strive to eschew the deeply fucked usages. Now, while it's possible that an anthropomorphic grocery store text messaged these two hurricane victims and was all: "What up? Hey, I left you some bread and soda up here on the corner! Just look under the water."--in which case "from" wouldn't be so weird--it seems more likely that the word "finding" was originally "looting" or "stealing" or "taking", and some eagle-eyed editor, spotting the unbearable lightness of one of the subject's melanin content, changed the verb.
It's a matter for debate, I guess. It's tough to know what to do about looters. I think it's reprehensible to be stripping stores of jewelry and appliances. There's just no code of behavior that can possibly support that. But if we're talking about food, water, and toilet paper, I think these folks who've been flood-bound should get a pass--look at it this way: while a business owner might be able to salvage a television or a handsaw, those grocery store goods are right now approaching a point where they have ceased to saleable by any stretch of the imagination. You'd be insane to buy some Hamburger Helper that's been sitting on a moldy Garden District A&P's shelves a week from now. So, if some if these desperate, hungry people can make use of some of this food before it's a complete loss, I say: let them.
Maybe the authorities can go in there with the mind to let needful citizens commandeer these necessities safely, so they can deal with the scofflaws stuffing iPods into their gymbags. Looters of that variety are only compounding the problem.
I know that some have even said that looters, by dint of their sheer amorality and the fact that they add to the difficulties of honest people, should simply be shot--no questions asked. Now, I'd bet many of you quail at this notion, but I'll be honest with you--I'm coming around to the wisdom of it. In fact, I'd be all for gunning some looters down myself.
Katrina 100: 003 George Bush bravely fills in for the Undersecretary of the Department of the Totally Fucking Obvious.
From his perch high above the hurricane ravaged South, Commander Cuckoo Bananas offers his finest ruminations:
"It's devastating. It's got to be doubly devastating on the ground."
Wow. I sure hope somebody's got an extra MacArthur Genius Grant laying around that we can give the man.
UPDATES AND ADDED EVENTS
DC will be hosting many displaced families from the affected area, beginning this week. It's expected that many of them will be housed at the DC Armory. Let's stay committed to their care and well-being. If you want to help, DCist has the basics:
The D.C. government Web site says that those interested in helping should call the Mayor's Call Center (202-727-1000). Through that number, Serve DC will preregister those interested in volunteering their time and labor, and they are officially asking that concerned citizens stop bringing small amounts of items or any clothesto fire or police stations. Right now, they prefer to accept only donations of money or goods in bulk. You can also send your name, phone number, and e-mail address to the American Red Cross of the National Capital Area, or contact Jeffrey Daniels, the Manager of Emergency Services at danielsj at redcrossnca dot org or by phone at 202-303-4521.The CPMC report that the first District police station are stockpiling care packages for the incoming evacuees. If you'd like to donate goods, clothing, non-perishable food or drinking water, coordinate you efforts by calling the station at 202-698-0555.
Wednesday afternoon, Cafe Milano will be having a fundraiser, from 5:30-7:30pm. Minimum donation is $100. If you aren't able to give that much, consider joining Alabama State Society, the Louisiana State Society, the Mississippi State Society, and the Florida State Society as they raise money for the folks back home. It takes place at the Jones Day Building at 311 First Street, NW, from 6-9pm. There'll be food, drink, and music, for a $20 donation--and you may want to participate in a special raffle or the silent auction that are planned.
Also Wednesday, come on up to the Hawk and Dove for their fundraiser. $25 donation to the Red Cross gets you in the door, where beer and wings are free until the wings are gone.
Thursday night, Vida is sponsoring a benefit for the American Red Cross. The event begins at 6pm, and your $20 donation at the door, along with 15% of the night's drink sales, will go to the Red Cross.
Also Thursday, the folks at the Grog and Tankard will host "Singin' the Blues for the Delta." The show features Delaware's Lower Case Blues. The show starts at 8pm and the cover is $20 (to benefit the Red Cross).
Next Monday, the Museum of the American Cocktail, DC Style, and Southern Comfort's Tales of the Cocktail are encouraging area barkeeps to make flow with their own interpretations of the classic New Orleans cocktails between 5-7pm and donate their take to New Orleans food and beverage workers. Give your palate some new experiences while giving help and hope to the people who helped make New Orleans what it is.
Friday night is A Katrina Benefit, at American University.
Throughout the next month, the Neighborhood Restaurant Group, who own and operate Tallula, Vermillion and The Evening Star, will be pledging proceeds, soliciting donations, and offering special events to help out those affected by Katrina. "On September 7, a percentage of total sales from all three restaurants will go to the American Red Cross and Catholic Relief Services, while from September 5-11, 50 percent of all dessert sales will be donated."
We'll keep you updated as time goes on. If you have an event upcoming for Katrina relief, please feel free to drop us a line.
"I have always depended on the kindness of strangers" goes the line from that most famous drama of the Crescent City, and it couldn't resonate more fully than it does today. The aftermath of Hurricane Katrina has left us in an "all hands on deck" situation. There is a lot of work to be done, and locally, plans are already coming together.
In the first place, the Post has a long preliminary list of who you can contact to make donations. We've also heard of a couple benefits. Tomorrow, at MCCXXIII Lounge, DC Jazz Fest will be holding a happy hour fundraiser to benefit the American Red Cross Disaster Relief Fund. Also tomorrow, Lounge 201 will be fundraising. We imagine that as we get into the weekend and next week, such benefits will proliferate. If you know of any fundraising activities, get in touch with me, get in touch with the editors at DCist--we'll disseminate the information.
Many people are understandably leery about handing money over to organizations, even the Red Cross. If you want to contribute tangible aid to the people in need in the Gulf States, and want to be absolutely sure they get the full measure of your aid, there's a simple thing you can do: contribute potable water. Clean water is an immediate need for the displaced all across the affected area and will continue to be a need for a long, long time, even as workers excavate the area over the next few months. Right now, if you can donate just $25 worth of clean, drinkable agua, you'll be helping to fill a critical need. I don't know if you can get the tax write-off for donating water, but, you know what? Don't do this for the tax write-off. Do it because this is your hour.
Of course, how are you going to get water, food, or other goods down to the affected area? Over the next few days, you can expect to hear about groups who are putting together trips down south. I got word today that the Capo from the CPMC is going down there to help out, and, according to the CPMC, there are "several groups trying to put crews together" that are right now "in the planning stages." I've beseeched him to keep me in the loop about details as they come out so that we can all contribute what we can to the convoy.
If you've got the wherewithal to make the journey yourself, please let me know. Also, contact your local churches and community centers, or reach out to the Craigslist community and find out if trips to the affected areas are being planned. If you can't drive all the way to Baton Rouge, there's no need to feel helpless--can you get to Richmond? Charlottesville? Baltimore? If you can get supplies that far, you can probably hook up with a posse from those areas and hand off needed contributions. Need help hooking up with out of town efforts? Drop me a line and I will do whatever I can to help you.
Above all, keep your ears to the ground. Share any efforts you hear about with as many people as possible. Tell me about them. Tell DCist about them. Get the word out. We'll keep updating this page with whatever local efforts we hear about.