America's Funniest Ongoing Criminal Investigations, or, I Can't Believe It's Not Journalism
Some recent faves of mine include the story about a lawyer that represents a fictional business owned by a fictional local man, who somehow manages to own a jet that the CIA may or may not have used for "extraordinary renditions" (of popular torch songs?). The Oregonian's website is so damn stupid (just like its owner!) that I can't find any sort of archive search. The story updated yesterday, and dammit, I'm curious.
Ye Gods. Can't even get the picture of the two entwined skeletons they unearthed in Mantua. The AP wants money for it, and The SnOregonian has it in Adobe, so your cursor becomes that little hand thing that makes all things sad and awful. Striking out, here.
The Astronaut Love Triangle thing is fun, since it involves the phrase "Astronaut Love Triangle". I try to limit my schadenfreude to a healthy serving, but that damn mugshot was too damn funny. Better still, Experts have been trotted out to explain that astronauts, despite all our best previous information, are People, and not some sort of space-going God-things.
That, and our diaper-wearing heroine explained helpfully, to investigating officers, that she brought along the BB pistol to 'entice' her rival into 'conversation' about the issue (still unclear) that caused this little business junket.
Perhaps envisioning this: "I'll give you this pistol if you taaalk to me..."
Sadder still, the Portland Police Department continues its quest to rid the city of The Blacks, one at a time. A fifteen-year-old kid got beaten and tasered by the cops for...Well, it doesn't say here in The St. John's Sentinel. It has a lengthy commentary about police brutality and proposed changes in policy, but absolutely nothing in the way of particulars regarding the event.
You do get the kid's name, though: Sir Millage. Matter of fact, to quote The Reverend Doctor LeRoy Haynes Junior (Boulevard), vice president of the Albina Ministerial Alliance,
"An autistic man like Sir has a right...Not to be beaten down like a hog on the streets of Portland."
Word. But can we talk a little bit about naming your kid 'Sir' for a minute? I understand the need on the part of Descendants of Slaves to claim some dignity in this world, and if not by naming yourself something African, then maybe Mister Respectworthy or something.
Wait, but no: that makes you sound even more uneducated than you are. I had a co-worker once who observed to me, "I comm-unicate wif mah boy-frien' on tha tele-phone..."
Causing me, ever the total bastard, to say, "So you talk to your boyfriend on the phone?" I mean, defensiveness makes everybody look like shit, especially the intellectual variety. So: stop trying to prove how smart and inherently worthy of respect you are; just be those things.
And 'Sir Millage' needs to be an abusive, drunk, elderly English gentleman who has recently soiled his trousers while burbling, "Quite so! Quite so!" at the corner table in the Old Pederast's Club.
What else? Um, it becomes more and more clear to me that no laws were broken in the Scooter Libby case, though all involved are bastards of the worst sort. So yeah: shitty deeds done, as always, but probably nothing legally actionable, at least partially due to the degradation of Law Itself in the time since I've been alive. I may be wrong, though...
But the whole thing still stinks, because it looks like another place where the spooks surrounding this president placed a piece they knew to be flawed with a journo (like the Dan Rather thing, actually), then sat back and watched people destroy themselves. Then they can go, "See? I told you the media's evil!"
The BBC's website is wonderful, if only for their online forum, "WORLD, HAVE YOUR SAY!" (compare to English songwriter Julian Cope's "World, Shut Your Mouth"), and studies of how the"beer goggle effect" actually happens in one's drunk brain.
But they also follow funny, if not especially relevant stories like the hot race for prime minister of France. There's a woman running whose last name is 'Royal' (and the piece makes lengthy fun of American media figures pathetic attempts at correctly pronouncing it), who recently suggested that Quebec secede from Canada. The Canadian prime minister shot back angrily that that would be tantamount to him suggesting that Corsica secede from France.
So Mme. Royal joked to a journalist (and you must never do that, by the way) that maybe it wouldn't be such a big deal if Corsica did secede, and then said whatever the French for "Don't print that, okay?" is.
Well, they printed it of course, and the Corsicans are all pissed at her. Her opponent did exactly what any politician would, and said "Corsica is not a joke. Corsica is a republic." Which it isn't, I believe, though again I might be wrong.
If elected, she'd be the first woman to run France. She won't be elected, though. You can only shit on the Corsicans for so long.
And The Mercury printed their Valentines sent by readers:
O My Honeybee I think I prevented you from plunging off a cliff the other day. I will continue to do so as long as it's in my power. I love you. You make me happy.
(Long story.)
Ye Gods. Can't even get the picture of the two entwined skeletons they unearthed in Mantua. The AP wants money for it, and The SnOregonian has it in Adobe, so your cursor becomes that little hand thing that makes all things sad and awful. Striking out, here.
The Astronaut Love Triangle thing is fun, since it involves the phrase "Astronaut Love Triangle". I try to limit my schadenfreude to a healthy serving, but that damn mugshot was too damn funny. Better still, Experts have been trotted out to explain that astronauts, despite all our best previous information, are People, and not some sort of space-going God-things.
That, and our diaper-wearing heroine explained helpfully, to investigating officers, that she brought along the BB pistol to 'entice' her rival into 'conversation' about the issue (still unclear) that caused this little business junket.
Perhaps envisioning this: "I'll give you this pistol if you taaalk to me..."
Sadder still, the Portland Police Department continues its quest to rid the city of The Blacks, one at a time. A fifteen-year-old kid got beaten and tasered by the cops for...Well, it doesn't say here in The St. John's Sentinel. It has a lengthy commentary about police brutality and proposed changes in policy, but absolutely nothing in the way of particulars regarding the event.
You do get the kid's name, though: Sir Millage. Matter of fact, to quote The Reverend Doctor LeRoy Haynes Junior (Boulevard), vice president of the Albina Ministerial Alliance,
"An autistic man like Sir has a right...Not to be beaten down like a hog on the streets of Portland."
Word. But can we talk a little bit about naming your kid 'Sir' for a minute? I understand the need on the part of Descendants of Slaves to claim some dignity in this world, and if not by naming yourself something African, then maybe Mister Respectworthy or something.
Wait, but no: that makes you sound even more uneducated than you are. I had a co-worker once who observed to me, "I comm-unicate wif mah boy-frien' on tha tele-phone..."
Causing me, ever the total bastard, to say, "So you talk to your boyfriend on the phone?" I mean, defensiveness makes everybody look like shit, especially the intellectual variety. So: stop trying to prove how smart and inherently worthy of respect you are; just be those things.
And 'Sir Millage' needs to be an abusive, drunk, elderly English gentleman who has recently soiled his trousers while burbling, "Quite so! Quite so!" at the corner table in the Old Pederast's Club.
What else? Um, it becomes more and more clear to me that no laws were broken in the Scooter Libby case, though all involved are bastards of the worst sort. So yeah: shitty deeds done, as always, but probably nothing legally actionable, at least partially due to the degradation of Law Itself in the time since I've been alive. I may be wrong, though...
But the whole thing still stinks, because it looks like another place where the spooks surrounding this president placed a piece they knew to be flawed with a journo (like the Dan Rather thing, actually), then sat back and watched people destroy themselves. Then they can go, "See? I told you the media's evil!"
The BBC's website is wonderful, if only for their online forum, "WORLD, HAVE YOUR SAY!" (compare to English songwriter Julian Cope's "World, Shut Your Mouth"), and studies of how the"beer goggle effect" actually happens in one's drunk brain.
But they also follow funny, if not especially relevant stories like the hot race for prime minister of France. There's a woman running whose last name is 'Royal' (and the piece makes lengthy fun of American media figures pathetic attempts at correctly pronouncing it), who recently suggested that Quebec secede from Canada. The Canadian prime minister shot back angrily that that would be tantamount to him suggesting that Corsica secede from France.
So Mme. Royal joked to a journalist (and you must never do that, by the way) that maybe it wouldn't be such a big deal if Corsica did secede, and then said whatever the French for "Don't print that, okay?" is.
Well, they printed it of course, and the Corsicans are all pissed at her. Her opponent did exactly what any politician would, and said "Corsica is not a joke. Corsica is a republic." Which it isn't, I believe, though again I might be wrong.
If elected, she'd be the first woman to run France. She won't be elected, though. You can only shit on the Corsicans for so long.
And The Mercury printed their Valentines sent by readers:
O My Honeybee I think I prevented you from plunging off a cliff the other day. I will continue to do so as long as it's in my power. I love you. You make me happy.
(Long story.)
Labels: fun
posted by rich bachelor | 12:23 PM
3 Comments:
Christ. Go look at these:
http://wonkette.com/politics/scooter-libby/breaking--fitz-has-rested-his-freakin-case-235139.php
and
http://wonkette.com/politics/anna-nicole-smith/supreme-court-icon-anna-nicole-smith-drops-dead-235151.php
Big huge laughs from the East Bridgewater Contingent. I personally spewed lime flavored fizzy water across the room as I tried to read the following aloud to the dinner guests,
"'Sir Millage' needs to be an abusive, drunk, elderly English gentleman who has recently soiled his trousers while burbling, "Quite so! Quite so!" at the corner table in the Old Pederast's Club."
Scared the living shit out of all three cats.
And lastly, what is a republic to do when the leaders henchpeople do this feeding false info dressed up to look real shit. I mean there has been a lot of fuck brained propoganda in American Political history, but past a certain point we stray outside the the accepted rules of trechery. But the American public has had all the history educated out of it so when things wratchet up a notch from the usual bullshit game rules, we don't notice and call "watergate."
Saw a bumpersticker that said, "I miss Nixon"
i know they are out there, the houses that take wagers on the worst elements of culture, pop or otherwise. i should be able to make book on the scooter trial. what's the over/under on the 2007 total of unarmed black portlanders shot in their cars after a "routine traffic stop"?
if someone would give me 100-1 odds on the father of anna-nicole's baby girl being her dead son, i've got a crisp green picture of franklin to lay down on that sweet action.
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