Note that this video has trigger warnings for meat and cold rooms.
1 The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God. Corrupt are they, and have done abominable iniquity: there is none that doeth good.
2 God looked down from heaven upon the children of men, to see if there were any that did understand, that did seek God.
3 Every one of them is gone back: they are altogether become filthy; there is none that doeth good, no, not one.
4 Have the workers of iniquity no knowledge? who eat up my people as they eat bread: they have not called upon God.
5 There were they in great fear, where no fear was: for God hath scattered the bones of him that encampeth against thee: thou hast put them to shame, because God hath despised them.
6 Oh that the salvation of Israel were come out of Zion! When God bringeth back the captivity of his people, Jacob shall rejoice, and Israel shall be glad.
ETA: Bugger. My YouTube embed is not working. Video to follow. Amuse yourself at my expense.
EATA: I think I broke the internets.
I may just be very drunk.
EOATA: Shorter: Drunk fictional old lady likes a piece of music and makes an ass of herself. Normal day really.
I can’t remember who pointed to this in the comments, but thank you, and pipe up if you’d like a hat tip.
Dear old Harry Reid continues to be out of fucks to give.
This is a moment of truth for Republicans. It is time for every Republican elected official in this county to revoke their endorsements of Donald Trump and state that they will not vote for their party’s nominee, who has been caught on tape bragging about routinely sexually assaulting women. There is no way to defend the indefensible. In the name of decency, Republicans should admit that this deviant – this sociopath – cannot be president.
My counterparts, Senator McConnell and Speaker Ryan, have endorsed a man who brags about sexually assaulting women. Many of my Republican colleagues have said they believe this man should be president. One even called him a role model.
What will it take for Republicans to walk away from Trump?
Bragging about sexually assaulting women is just his latest atrocity. He has called Mexican immigrants rapists. He has insulted our veterans and ridiculed the parents of a fallen soldier. He has called for discriminating against people based on their religion. He has cozied up to dictators like Putin and invited Russia to launch a cyberattack against America. He has encouraged violence at his rallies, especially against African Americans. He is clearly a racist. He questioned the judgment of a respected judge based purely on his Mexican heritage. He elevates those who traffic in White Nationalist rhetoric, and even hired a man with White Nationalist sympathies to run his campaign. He uses his charity to enrich himself and lies about his wealth. He is the first nominee in decades to refuse to release his tax returns, because he knows they will expose him as a fraud and reveal that he is not as rich as he says he is. He has a long history of discriminating against African Americans and still believes the Central Park Five are guilty even though another man confessed and was proven to be guilty by DNA evidence. He has repeatedly promoted anti-Semitic sentiment on social media.
What are Republicans waiting for?
What is it going to take for Republicans to discover even the barest modicum of decency and respect?
For the good of the country, I hope that my Republican colleagues do not try to circle the wagons around a man who brags about sexually assaulting women. Never in history has a party nominated someone more unfit to be president. There is still time for Republicans to acknowledge their mistake and salvage their dignity. They can do so by finally deciding to put the good of our country first.
Pedro doesn’t care much for doing tricks right now.
In yesterday morning’s open thread, p.a. (First!) mentioned this BBC article about Matthew Anderson’s tweet about Mark Forsyth’s claim (I think this sentence has gotten away from me) in his book “The Elements of Eloquence: How to Turn the Perfect English Phrase” that:
As Mark Liberman and his commenters point out at Language Log, Forsyth’s rule – a fixed order of adjectives from which an English speaker can never depart without sounding like Donald Trump on a meth and moonshine bender – is mostly bollocks. Beware of anyone who tells you that there are any unbreakable rules in English – a language which has fifteen different kinds of exceptions from every purported rule, just to fuck off the foreigners.
The reality is much more interesting and complex than Forsyth’s unbreakable rule – yes, we tend to use adjectives in a particular order, but we also swap them around depending on what idiom we are using, what effect we are trying for, what particular meaning we are trying to convey. “Grumpy old drunk lady” is subtly different to “Drunk, grumpy old lady”, although perhaps not when she’s pressed up in your face and breathing booze at you. Most of us would say “ugly little hands” but “big ugly hair”. We take pleasure in the leaping, lilting rhythm of words like “tiny fingered, cheeto-faced, ferret wearing shitgibbon” or “limping invisible down to the sloeblack, slow, black, crowblack, fishingboat-bobbing sea” – even if that “slow” (being, I suspect, opinion under Forsyth’s Rule) should really go in front of all those colours, and definitely not in the middle of them, unless you want to sound like a maniac, Mr Thomas.
There’s a lot of good stuff in the Language Log thread, including links to some very interesting articles.
Shorter Jonah Goldberg: Why is the Main Stream Media not talking about how it’s ok to refuse to make a Trump 2016 cake for a 17 year old girl?
I didn’t encounter Phyllis Schlafly often – we were on opposite sides of the ERA campaign, and I made sure to avoid her for the most part because, well, because she wasn’t a very pleasant woman. I did once slip her a shit ton of acid stashed in a blueberry brownie before a debate, but frankly I couldn’t tell the difference. After that I stuck to laxatives in the brownies, but she still ended up wining that one.
She was a nasty, hypocritical, unchristian old baggage – she believed in jobs and power for her, but not for other women, that there was no rape inside marriage, that Anthony Kennedy should have been impeached for abolishing the death penalty for minors, and that all Muslims should be banned from the armed forces and political office.
She endorsed Donald Trump, but that might just have been because she was bats at the end.
She was a prude whose hatred of sex and those who dared to have it – in particular those who she thought God had cursed with disease for having it – somehow made her the respectable face of a campaign to stigmatise people with HIV and AIDS (and not just the gays) which gave the Reagan administration cover to ignore the AIDS crisis, held back AIDS education and funding of AIDS research for years, and therefore directly or indirectly resulted in the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people and the infection of twice that many again.
Phyllis Schlafly was a cruel woman – the kind of woman who, in November 1985, as hundreds, and soon thousands of people were dying every month, could write:
… At least 10% of AIDS sufferers are innocent, involuntary victims such as babies.
Male homosexuals are the principal victims of AIDS but they are also the principal carriers of the contagion. The public health problem has been spread throughout our country by an identifiable class of people who engage in a bizarre risk taking recreation: frequent promiscuous (often anonymous) homosexual sex. …
Has the homosexual lobby really persuaded us that their right to engage in perverted, promiscuous sex takes precedence over the rights of the rest of us to have uncontaminated blood available for medical emergencies?
The New York school system asserts the right of a child who has AIDS to attend school and thereby run the risk of exposing healthy children. Where are the rights of the healthy children and their tens of thousands of protesting parents? …
Other proposals include making it a felony for homosexuals and intravenous drug users to donate blood; quarantining AIDS victims; barring children with AIDS from public schools; prohibiting anyone with AIDS from working in the health-care industry; assuring protection for health-care workers against AIDS patients; requiring a test which detects AIDS antibodies for workers in certain occupations like food handling.
The whole thing is posted after the fold.
Phyllis Schlafly was, in short, the kind of person who sees a kiddie with a fatal disease and wants to kick them out of school, lock them away from everyone else, and prevent them from ever getting a job or going to a hospital when they are sick.
In memory then of Phyllis, who is still dead, I give you this (via Queerty) – a sweet little story about a deaf Lyft driver, his passengers, young love and, probably, perverted homosexual sex – because it makes me feel all mooshy inside that young gay/trans/whatevers are out there making sweet little love stories like this, and because the mere existence of this video would have fucked up Phyllis’s day completely.
Although probably not as much as dying did.
Cheers, you old trout. Say hello to Fat Tony for me before the little devils stick their toasty hot pitchforks into you.
So, I’m serving seared tuna (which has been marinating in teriyaki and rice wine for a while) with a mint, coriander, savoy cabbage and bean sprout salad, drizzled with argan oil and lime juice
And I’m stuck as to what cocktail to serve with it on a warmish spring evening. Mai tais to start, but then I need something to go with the fish. I’m thinking gimlets or white ladies at the moment.
Journalism is being committed by Joy Reid over on MSNBC.
Joy Reid: Forgetting your friends, aside, it seems that over all Hispanics are rejecting Donald Trump in huge numbers. Can you refute that?
Marco Gutierrez (Latinos for Trump): Yes, because the polls are done in two blocs. You have the born citizens here, and then you have me, like I was born and raised in Mexico; my section it’s more against Donald Trump because of the relationship that they have with the unlawful immigrant, illegal or undocumented, however you want to call it. And, but you have the natural borns that are more in the 40 something percent.
Reid: That … actually, you have no, I mean you have to present some sort of name of a poll, because there’s actually no numbers or research to support what you just said – You just gave us a number out of whole cloth.
Reid: Are you not at all concerned that Donald Trump is so alienating people with his tone last night, that yelling into the prompter speech, and just his tone towards undocumented migrants, toward immigrants in this country that you are now facing a Barry Goldwater moment for your party?
Gutierrez: Yes, but you know Donald Trump is a genius at delivering a message and, yes it was a tough message to deliver, but he did it in a way that’s showing us we have a problem, and the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, and different times different problems. Yes indeed there is a lot of people… my colleague [NY State Senator Adriano D. Espaillat] here wouldn’t be here, but we need to understand that this is a different time and we are having problems here.
Reid: What problems? What problems are you taking about?
Gutierrez: My culture is a very dominant culture and its imposing and its causing problems. If you don’t do something about it you are going to have taco trucks on every corner.
Reid: Wait a minute, wait a minute, I’m sorry, hold on for a second, I’m going to have to let Adriano in here, I don’t even know what that means and I’m almost afraid to ask.
The lesser of two evils (Baud)
August 31, 2016 at 8:38 pm (Edit)
Francisco Goldman is reporting that the crime perpetrated against the nation of Mexico today is now being described in Mexico as the end of the PRI. The noose around their necks from which they will never recover from. To debase yourself and the nation by issuing the invitation in the first place and then standing next to said travesty offering no words of censure is contemptuous. The nation is not amused, and finds the Tweet cowardly. Nieto and the PRI are getting absolutely hammered in local media. Goldman pulled a Friedman and spoke of his cab driver’s rage on his way to the studio.
I can’t take it any more. I declare that the comments in this Open Thread shall contain no fucking Trump.
Thread commenters may talk about whatever they wish, with the exception of:
(a) all persons surnamed Trump;
(b) all companies, trusts, political organisations owned or operated by such persons; and
(c) their respective directors, employees, consultants, agents and representatives, present or former.
Any commenter posts containing references to such persons, whether direct or oblique, may be rewritten, gleefully, and at the entire discretion of me.
Have your man place, into a large cocktail shaker, a jigger each of fresh lime juice, Diplomatico aged Venezuelan rum (for the flavour), and British Navy Pusser’s rum (for the kick), along with half a jigger of Cointreau, a heaping half of orgeat and a small spoonful of brown molasses sugar. Have him add tons of ice and shake like buggery. Pour into glasses and serve in the afternoon sun with a selection of snacks and the new Ball Park Music album.
Cheers to Walter, and his new mum Debit, and especially to our blogmaster, Cole – a fine and decent man who makes the world a better place.
For most of my career, I have been a fixer. More the makes a few calls, has a quiet lunch, bends a few ears kind of fixer than the kind that sidles in the back door and puts six bullets in the problem’s head.
That kind of malarkey was fine and dandy, and frankly a bit of a buzz when I was a 27 year old girl clearing the forests of Baden-Württemberg of an infestation of Kthanid-worshipping Himmler clones, or a 35 year old woman putting the frighteners on the odd racist dickhead Democrat governor for Ike. When I turned 50, I made a new rule to turn down any job that meant I had to put down my drink.
I have no shame. I’ll stack branches, and queer primaries, and have quiet words with people which inspire a sudden interest in them in employment opportunities in the ice fishing industry. I’ll work for anyone who can pay my fees, and I’m not cheap, although nowadays there’s rarely anything so crass as payment in cash.
Five days ago, I got the call I have been expecting since day two of Cleveland Hatefest ’16.
My client is am old man with old money. Before his family became an old Republican family, they were an old Whig family, and before that an old National Republican family, and before even that an old Jeffersonian Republican family. They’ve been on the grift for so long, they collect rent on just over 1% of the continental United States
Some of you may wonder how I write the things I write over here, and still get calls from the Republicans. The answer is simple and comes in two parts – first, the 90% of the Republican Party that think they run the Republican Party don’t read lefty blogs like this, and even if they did they would assume it was some bolshevik pretending to be me to destroy my reputation. More importantly, I don’t work for them because they can’t afford me.
I will work with the other 10% of the Republicans, the ones who actually own the party – or at least own the trusts that own the companies that own the consultants that own the Republican Party – they know that what I write is true. The thing is, they don’t care. It’s not their names or reputations that I am holding up to ridicule – these are not the kind of people who give press conferences or do anything so vulgar as joining a committee. So long as the faces of the Party keep drumming up business, so long as the rubes continue donating, so long as they cash they funnel off keeps trickling down into bank vaults in Bern and Barbados, they don’t care about anything else.
Still, getting me involved is not without risks, so a call from this client means only one thing. They’re fucked and they would like me to come take the two foot dildo out of their Party’s arse, or at least swap it out for something a little less challenging so early on in the evening.
The first thing Mr James said – I’ll call him Mr James because that’s not his name – the very first thing was, “We’ve got more cock up us than a two dollar whore at Christmas.”
“Rude. I blame the eggnog.”
“I wish I could blame the fucking eggnog. He’s out of control. He can’t fucking stop talking. And he’s going to fuck us hard and dry and with a complete absence of lube or snuggling for the next three months.”
“You’re only just realising this? The man has been dementing since Marla got him in the skull with a bottle of Cristal. How did you let him win?”
“Have you seen the team we fielded at the primaries? Fuckups, slow kids, racists, cockheads and loons.”
“And some of them all five. Including the one you ended up with.”
I’m sure I have told this story before, but digging that version up would require me to give a shit, and I don’t, so I won’t.
It may have been 1992, because I think it was the same year that I got on the pull with Jodie Foster at an Oscars party and she kept doing the Clarice Starling voice.
Donald and Ivana’s marriage was on quite the downward spiral. Donald’s mother Bitsy had moved in to the grand granny flat attached to whatever monstrosity of an apartment the Trumps lived in that month, presumably so that she could mediate between them. Why she thought bunging me in the spare room would help, I shall never know. Maybe she just needed someone to verify to the girls at brunch that every single word of her stories was true.
Anyway, things were pretty bad between Donald and Ivana. The previous day, she had locked him in the wine fridge for three hours and then pegged a Lalique paperweight at his head during dinner. His hair protected him from too much damage, but still, things were a bit tense the next morning.
Donald had skipped breakfast and was hiding away in the bathroom – a pink marble horror, an apotheosis of bad taste with a gold bidet, the centerpiece of which was a massive curtain-lined shower with a stone mosaic of Donald as Caesar accepting the homage of the Nereids splayed along one wall.
After a bit of grunting – the walls in Trump buildings are never very well insulated – the shower started, and we could hear him launch into some warbling Andrew Lloyd Webber tat in his creepy falsetto.
Ivana had been in a very chipper mood all morning, playing with her pekinese Frou-Frou in the main lounge, showing it pictures of Donald and teaching it to growl and show its little teeth like Bill O’Reilly. Suddenly, she sprang up, grabbed the dog in her arms, stormed over to the bathroom, flung the door open and launched Frou-Frou over the top of the curtains and into the shower.
There was a yelp from Donald, followed by a doggy growl that, amplified by the peculiar acoustics of the bathroom, sounded like Cerberus discovering he had an extra head, then a scream of terror and pain from the Donald as Frou-Frou latched onto a testicle with his teefuses.
Donald rocketed out of the bathroom, a shower curtain tangled about his neck, his hair all fallen back and flapping behind his head like a miasma of umber doom, his belly jiggling, and Frou-Frou, teeth firmly ensconced in Donald’s left ball, bouncing up and down like a very angry pendulum, and at the top of each arc a tiny jet of wee would come out of the little doggy, like a celebratory fountain.
How we laughed.
Someone should exercise their First Amendment rights and put a doberman into Donald’s shower next.[Giovanni Boldini (1842-1931), Portrait of a Lady, Lina Bilitis, with Two Pekinese, 1913.]
Sit down to write post on election polling. Read comments in Tuesday Morning Open Thread. Say fuck it – let the punters field this one. Cut, paste. Wander off to search out another drink.
August 9, 2016 at 7:39 am
I see these polls and I think: Bradley Effect Bradley Effect Bradley Effect. Who wants to admit to a pollster that they’re voting for an idiot? So… expect Trump to do better at the ballot box than he does in polls.
one_particular_harbour, fka Botsplainer says:
August 9, 2016 at 7:46 am
My prediction all along has been that Hill is actually underpolling, that conservative women aged 50+ will go ahead and vote for her in the privacy of the voting booth. They’re polling differently because they’re worried about people overhearing, return calls, direct mail, etc.
Trump reminds them too much of their husbands.
It’s gonna play hell with exit polls, while leading to squealing accusations of rampant fraud.
Expect big surprises, maybe even in the plains.
Amir Khalid says:
August 9, 2016 at 8:02 am
My own suspicion about the polling is that I don’t know if the Trump campaign is capable of performing to its candidate’s polling. He might poll at x% in such-and-such state, and fall short of that number on election day because he didn’t have the organisation to get the vote out for him.
August 9, 2016 at 8:28 am
@Amir Khalid: I am not sure a major American party has ever had a candidate who thought his supporters would all go to the polls on their own because he was so awesome. If great organization was really a big difference between Obama and Romney/McCain, then it should mean Trump gets at least 5% below his projections. And his projections are beginning to look really horrible.
Have at it.
ETA: The discussion in the comment thread is wonderful. I love you all. rikyrah wins though.
August 9, 2016 at 10:08 am (Edit)
Pound these muthaphuckas INTO THE GROUND!!!!
If my photoshop skills were a bit better developed I would copy Cole’s latest selfie, go back through the blog and find every single photo of his mangled, sprained, broken and clawed appendages and then paste them all together in a giant, glorious ginger Frankenstein’s Monster collage of domestic disaster.