new cartoon

important linguistic note

This story on NPR's website by linguist John McWhorter, makes a very important point about our society's use of the word "Troops" to designate soldiers, or airmen, or marines:

The problem is that this usage of troops is only possible in the plural. One cannot refer to a single soldier as a troop. This means that calling 20,000 soldiers "20,000 troops" depersonalizes the soldiers as individuals, and makes a massive number of living, breathing individuals sound like some kind of mass or substance, like water or Jell-O, or some kind of freight.

Couldn't agree more. We have to be cognizant, as we speak of them, that these are living breathing folks out there with families and hopes. Not pieces on a game board or figures boxed into comic book frames. As McWhorter notes, rather painfully, "One will never encounter a troop learning to use her prosthetic leg."
So lets call our "troops" what they are: soldiers.

lyricsh...two for one wednesday

so there

Scout Niblett
I Am (2003)
"Your Beat Kicks Back Like Death"

We're all gonna die
we don't know when
we don't know how
and your beat kicks back like death
We're all gonna die

that is some songwritin right there. scout is pretty kickass.

Not the same song, but cool to see.

Heavy Vegetable
Frisbie (1995)
Song for Wesley

This song's about a man.
He is like a genius.
He can roar like a lion
He gets down like a Magikist.
Wesley, people can be so cruel.
Don't let them bring you down.
Don't let them take advantage.
You're in complete control
Wesley Willis
If you lay down for this
I'll claim I'm dead serious

He's got style
He's got a special gift
He can see right though
all the musical bullshit
Wesley Willis

Rock over London,
Rock on Chicago
Wesley WIllis
he is whipping on a mule's ass with a belt

There's a couple lyrics I'm not sure of...but it's a kickass song about a genuine American oddball named Wesley WIllis. Draw your own conclusions about Mr. W.

Man, check out this video on the front page... the chorus of the second song they show is "Count on the insane to save the souls of the suckers". I love that fucking band. If they were a woman I would make sweet love to them for days.

scay-ree

as a kid i grew up with cheeseball low/no-budget horror flicks. nowadays you can stretch your low/no to much greater lengths, and if you have a good script and some talent make a real live kickass flick.
Larry Fessenden is one of those talented guys, and he made a movie that kicked my ass a few years back, Habit. Its dark and creepy and explores some deep areas, and Fessenden as the lead reminds me of so many wayward, wandering friends...myself too. he's made a lot of other stuff too, tho most people will likely remember him from Broken Flowers. I recommend checking his stuff out.
Glass Eye Pix
New movie: I Sell The Dead
IMDB page

Photo by Roy Gumpel From here.

depressing post for today

Creationists suck, and they're trying to muddy science with their made-up, goofball, revelatory garbage. that is sorry stuff.

Here's the God Simulator. See if you can get all the way through!

dammit

i was getting ready to pre-write a wednesday lyric post an safari done crashed all up on me.
any whoo

The Vandals
Internet Dating Superstuds
"Soccer Mom"

Gliding across the lawn, oranges and Evian.
And pizza right after the game.
Just tell me where and when,
Volvos and collagen.
Hope you might feel the same.
My Soccer mom, it's on.
Knew all along so right it's so wrong.
Pray to god that you're thinking what I'm thinking.
I know you're brattless every other weekend.
Let your hair down and keep it all a secret.
No reason why it couldn't be that way.
If you say yes right now, I'll make it work some how.
Those fancy dinners don't come free.
Don't know just where he went.
But with that settlement, you should be taking me.
My Soccer mom, it's on.
Knew all along so right it's so wrong.
Pray to god that you're thinking what I'm thinking.
I know you're brattless every other weekend.
Let your hair down and keep it all a secret.
No reason why it couldn't be that way.
Tell me I'm the one for you, even if it isn't true.
I'd pretend to like those two snot kids.
And if it had to end, I think that my heart would eventually mend.
I'd keep my fingers crossed for another MILF like you.
Pray to god that you're thinking what I'm thinking.
I know you're brattless every other weekend.
Let your hair down and keep it all a secret.
No reason why it couldn't be that way.
Tell me I'm the one for you, even if it isn't true.
I'd pretend to like those two.
I'd do anything for you my Soccer Mom.

funny stuff!

This is hilarious. From TPM Muckraker:

In this instance, the White House has said that U.S. Attorney David Iglesias of New Mexico was removed in part due to his handling of voter fraud complaints. That's backed up by the numerous instances of powerful New Mexico Republicans (including Sen. Pete Domenici (R-NM)) complaining to Karl Rove, Alberto Gonzales, and President Bush about Iglesias' decision not to prosecute certain cases of voter fraud.

What does this mean? It means that Iglesias must have been lauded by the Justice Department for his handling of voter fraud cases. And not just lauded -- but cited as an example for U.S. attorneys across the country.

i'm going to throw 20,000 more things in it!

more comicky fun

(Click for a slightly bigger one)

another think

Since this seems to be an all-Charles day thus far, this story on The Onion made me think of him.

Man Who Plays Devil's Advocate Really Just Wants To Be Asshole
March 9, 2007 | Issue 43•10

COLUMBUS, MO—Though area graphic designer Derek Sills says he plays devil's advocate to help his friends better understand opinions different from their own, sources close to Sills claim he takes on the dissenting role merely to be an asshole.

"Now, I don't actually believe this or anything but, for the sake of argument, let's say your girlfriend is just dating you for your money," Sills said at a party last Saturday, after asking a group of friends to consider that the telephone may have been a "stupid invention." "Just playing devil's advocate here, guys, but perhaps slavery is the reason African Americans are so successful in sports these days."

According to sources, Sills "crossed the line" when he asked if their friend Jamie's mother might have deserved to die.

That is funny shit.

charles' wednesday lyric

i will just do people's bidding for lyrics from now on. first come first served.

Haunted
rEVOLVEr
"Abysmal"

Come a little bit closer.
So I can see what you taste like.
A pale face. A vision of suicide.
Dead ends and a St.Jude figurine.

Bury me in a shallow grave.
So the dogs can dig me out.
If I die tonight, well that suits me fine.
'Caus I'd be better off covered in lye.

This one is abysmal.
This one is a oneway ticket down.
Some say there ain't nothing to lose, but I lost that too.
So what am I gonna do?

I sold my soul for a reasonable stake.
The devil done paved the way.
And I'll claim the prize 'til the day I go,
When all hell comes to carry me home.

A beckoning shape. A crow to lead me on.
Lower me down below.

This one is abysmal.
This one is a oneway ticket down.
Some say there ain't nothing to lose, but I lost that too.
So what am I gonna do?

The Peripherol know the cold centre of hate,
It burns clean and kills the pain.
It'll cut you open and spit in your eyes.

A foul spectacle to behold.

A beckoning shape. A crow to lead me on.
Lower me down the hatch and swallow me whole.

Here I go...

A crow to lead me on? what the hell is that about? what's wrong with crows? they got a bad rap, man. crows are just birds. Ravens too.

MC Lars
Laptop EP
"Mr. Raven"

We got EAP in the house tonight, Edgar Allan Poe.
America's favorite anti-transcendentalist.
We're taking this back, way back, nineteenth century style.

Who's that (who's that) rapping?
Who's that rapping at my chamber door?
Mr. (mister) Raven!
All up in my grill like, "Nevermore."

Kick it! Once upon a midnight dreary,
while I kicked it weak and weary,
Dark and cold just like Lake Eerie,
Brand New sample, someone clear me.
While I nodded nearly napping,
suddenly there came a tapping.
Up like, "What?", this thunder clapping
in my brain like graphic Halflings.
Staffing me, I put down Milton.
Cell phone mute like Paris Hilton.
Open window, halfway built-in.
Times a changing like Bob Dylan.
Twenty-pound bird black as could be,
cold feet cold eyes aimed straight at me.
Grim face, grim stare, death carnivore,
quothe that raven "Nevermore."

Who's that (who's that) rapping?
Who's that rapping at my chamber door?
Mr. (mister) Raven!
All up in my grill like, "Nevermore."

I miss Lenore, my Annabel Lee,
taken by angels from me.
Alone with books (hey that's me!),
harbinger of death visiting me.
I said, "Can I help you, evil prophet?
If you got a problem, look, I'll solve it."
He checked my hook, DJ revolved it,
perched on Pallas, chalice dropped it.
"Tell me sir, please, if you can.
Am I good or evil man?
What can I say, what can I do,
when will I be rid of you?"
"Nevermore," quothe he at me,
hating on this fresh MC,
Satanic raven, Nietzche glee,
killing me softly like the Fugees.
Now I feel worse, my verse is terse,
joy inverse just like Fred Durst.
Call a nurse, disperse my thirst
put this process in reverse.
Wish I'd had some warning first,
MC Lars, '88 hearse.
Now I'll never be Slug or Murs,
under that black raven's curse.
The raven's eyes still have the seeming
of a demon that is dreaming,
Lamplight over him still streaming,
hear my screaming, hear me screaming!
My soul still floats there on that floor
and shall be lifted nevermore.
Afflicted calm, like Michael Moore,
canonized piece, US folklore.

Who's that (who's that) rapping?
Who's that rapping at my chamber door?
Mr. (mister) Raven!
All up in my grill like, "Nevermore."

Who's house? Raven's house!

All up in your grill, bitches.

dear Fox News

You're being called a right-wing propaganda outlet BECAUSE YOU ARE A RIGHT-WING PROPAGANDA OUTLET. Look in the mirror, look at your record, and look at your ownership. You've been a TV version of the Washington Times since DAY ONE.
I'll add links to their resume throughout the day. send me an email if you have a real good one. Here's a pic from Kos...find out where the funny "we report you decide" spin is.

toonage

woot

har

From Pharyngula, where i usually steal things from.

Wednesday lyric

I know it's Thursday, shut up. Charles harrassed me for a lyric, so I let him pick one out. Normally, he can only muster enough concern about me to not stab me when I'm not looking, so this is a major breakthrough on the stabber-stabbee relations front. Last night I was in bed and some d-bag in the parking lot ran into a parked car, and then went in their garage and ignored it. I took down their license # and left it on the car that got hit. I crept around in the dark too because I'm a giant scared vagina.
Speaking of which, here's Charles' lyric!

The Engine Driver
The Decemberists

I'm an engine driver
On a long run, on a long run
Would I were beside her
She's a long one, such a long one

And if you don't love me let me go
And if you don't love me let me go

I'm a county lineman
On the high line, on the high line
So will be my grandson
There are powerlines in our bloodlines

And if you don't love me let me go
And if you don't love me let me go

And I am a writer, writer of fictions
I am the heart that you call home
And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
My bones
My bones

I'm a money lender
I have fortunes upon fortunes
Take my hand for tender
I am tortured, ever tortured

And if you don't love me let me go
And if you don't love me let me go

And I am a writer, writer of fictions
I am the heart that you call home
And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
I am a writer, I am all that you have hoped on

And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
My bones
My bones

(And if you don't love me let me go)
And if you don't love me let me go
(And if you don't love me let me go)
And if you don't love me let me go

RANDY!

I just got home from watching UFC 68: The Uprising over at my brother's place. Randy Couture, 43 years old, retired, and facing a man 13 years younger, 50lbs heavier, and 8 inches taller, with an 8 and a half inch reach advantage, took the crown from Tim Sylvia in an absolutely amazing 5 round decision win. Randy's first punch of the night landed Sylvia on his ass as a fat overhand right connected with Sylvia's mug. Me Chris and Eric were leaping around as Randy took him to the ground and eventually took his back. He couldn't choke out the champ, but he went on to win all five 5-minute rounds decisively. I was stunned by the outcome, even though I picked Randy "The Natural" Couture to win...it was kind of a heart-pick, not a head-pick, as it were. Absolutely amazing fight. I'm blown away.