I may have officially become an old fart this evening. Frankly, I cannot decide who has been worse for New Orleans in the post-K era, hipsters, planners or NIMBYs. Let's call the whole thing off:
I may have officially become an old fart this evening. Frankly, I cannot decide who has been worse for New Orleans in the post-K era, hipsters, planners or NIMBYs. Let's call the whole thing off:
"Even though most people agree that I'm being reasonable; that most people agree I'm presenting a fair deal; the fact they don't take it means I should somehow do a Jedi mind meld with these folks and convince them to do what's right."
Uh, Mr. President there's a Vulcan mind meld and there are Jedi mind tricks. One is Star Trek, the other is Star Wars but the trekkies got there first. The Tweeter Tube is, quite predictably, going bonkers right now since they've finally gotten over Seth MacFarlane, and have moved on to the latest hive mind snark fest like rabid Borg bjorn again...
The Prez needs to call JJ Abrams immediately to serve as his bridge between these diverse nerdly kingdoms. I'm more of a Trekker myself but I can imagine all the mixed sci-fi imagery we'll be subjected to when the BSG, Babylon 5 and even Lost In Space fans start chiming in.
Make it so, Dr. Smith, and so say we all that resistance is futile.
I could go on all day like this but y'all have done nothing to deserve that. Plus, I don't want to end up in Deep Shit 9 since our editrix is on her way home to Ferret central...
I found an empty airport terminal under my Sequester tree, and Sequester Santa ate all the cookies I put out for him and left me some tainted meat in return.
All I've got to add is this: don't sit under the Sequester tree with anyone else but me...
Here's my favorite song with tree in the title:
Guess I fibbed about that I've got nothing more to add thing. Hey, at least I didn't go alll Joyce Kilmer on your asses...
Sunday Morning Comin’ Down – Part 2 of 2On “This Week” George Stephanopoulos asks Republican Party Chairman Michael Steele about Dubya.Shorter Michael Steele: Bush was awesome. His economic politics were fooking brill. He inherited a recession from the Evil Bill Clinton.And then came the Stupid Of The Month.Steele: Government doesn’t create jobs. Only the private sector creates jobs.Stephanopoulos: What?Steele: Government jobs don’t count as jobs,Stephanopoulos: What…squared?Steele: They don’t count as jobs, because they have an end point.Stephanopoulos: So people who will rebuild our shitty schools don’t really count as people who have jobs?Steele: No. Because those jobs will eventually end. They’re just make-work. And private sector jobs never, ever end.Stephanopoulos: But…but…3.9 million people lost their jobs year? All of those “private sector jobs” ended.Steele: Sure, but private sector jobs always come back, George. The Majyk Jobs Unicorn brings them.Stephanopoulos: OMFG. You’re a complete douche, aren’t you?Steele: I’m a Republican, George; we’re all douches.Wow. So this is now the official policy of the Party of God.That cops don’t have “jobs”.Neither do teachers.Or firemen. Or sewer workers. Road construction crews. Bridge builders. Snow plow drivers. Bus drivers. Train conductors. Coast guard.The United States Army.has no "jobs".Neither doesthe United States NavyThe Peace Corps?Nuh-uh.Neither does the Marine Corps.No "jobs" for state-funded nursing care. Doctors. Foster care workers.Consultants and contract employees working the private sector aren’t really really working at “jobs” either, since their contracts eventually end.The lady who delivers your mail doesn’t have a “job”.The lifeguard who saved your uncle from drowning at a public beach doesn’t have a “job”.The public defender that got your kid a little justice doesn’t have a “job”.The judge who put the drug dealer who was terrorizing your neighborhood away doesn’t have a “job”.The auditor who makes hedge fund managers pay their fucking taxes doesn’t have a “job”.The tech guy who makes sure the computer lab at your daughter’s school can take a beating and still run the next day doesn’t have a “job”.The hematologist at the county blood bank doesn’t have a “job”.The gearheads and welders who make sure the buses and garbage trucks run, rain or shine don’t have “jobs”.The people doing the 2010 census don’t have “jobs”.The job counselors and case managers at your local employment One Stop also don’t have jobs, even though they are the ones who are going to work like hell to help that laid-off lathe operator find another way to support his family now that the GM supplier he worked for for 22 years has closed its doors.The air traffic controller who made sure your mom’s plane didn’t slam into a mountain doesn’t have a “job”.Customs agent isn’t a real job.Even though millions of these people may have worked honorably on a public payroll providing vital services for decades – may have put their kids through college, bought a house and retired on that salary – the Chair of the Republican National Committee does not consider what they do to be “real” jobs.So my mother, who taught her whole life, never had a “real” job.My dad, who was a principle, was also somehow actually unemployed.All of the dams my grandpa built wasn’t real labor. And the defense plants he worked at didn’t really exist.The truly dreadful thing about this is not merely that in Mikey Steele’s world, all of these jobs and thousands more are all just sorta welfarey make-work, but that I’m absolutely sure Mikey Steele believes every single word of the bilge he hawks up.Because if you want to rise through the ranks of the GOP, you are required to believe this tripe.It is doctrine. Dogma. The station of the Conservative Cross and the Passion of the Gipper all rolled into one, big, toxic, Randite fattie.Smoke it – inhale good and deep – and you’re in the club; take a pass and out into the wilderness you are cast. And because lying, grasping, sellout hucksters like Steele most definitely want to be in the club, they enthusiastically spout this objectively ridiculous bibble, not because the jobs – and they are j-o-b-s – they are talking about are somehow trivial or unnecessary, but because they are middle class jobs.Many of them are union, middle class jobs.And if there is anything a Republican hates more than the middle class generally, it is unions specifically. They are all that stands between the GOP and the America of their dreams – a land where the entire government has finally been liquidated, every fucking job in the country (except CEOs and hedge fund managers) has been outsourced to Indonesian slave labor camps, media has been gutted and gelded of everything but ads and trivia, and a corporate feudal state rules unchallenged and unfettered forever and ever, amen.Over in the Better Universe, Al Pacino takes time away from his busy schedule, borrows Stephanopoulos’ hair and explains to Mr. Steele exactly what not-crazy people think of his “Beat The Working Man Harder” school of economics.(Not Work Safe)Over here, most of the media continues to pretend that the GOP wasn’t just crushed and roundly repudiated in two consecutive elections and that their ideas are not the tragically failed ravings of a gang of bitter regime dead enders.More tax cuts.Less regulation.Stall and delay until it all burns to the ground, then lie down and make Happy Reagan Jesus Angels in the ashes while singing martial hymns about how dirty hippies are to blame for it all.Where oh where is a fucking Rapture when you need one?...
I spent half the week or more working on a piece of biting satire that made the case that I appeared to be the only human being on Earth who understood what Seth MacFarlane was doing at the Oscars. (Working title: The Tit Offensive)
Look, when you hire a guy who makes fun of the handicapped, once wrote an entire network skit dedicated to sideboobs and “Dogs Humping” and then made a feature film about a Teddy Bear that gets stoned, you know what you’re going to get at the Oscars.
And that damned sure ain’t going to be Moliere.
If nothing else, I argued, people needed to pay better attention to the cutaway shots of the actresses appearing to be “offended” during “We Saw Your Boobs.” Charlize Theron was wearing a different dress and so was Naomi Watts. And if Theron was really insulted and blindsided by all this, how the hell did she change dresses so fast and hop up on stage for an impromptu dance with Channing Tatum?
After spending a good amount of time trying to find the clip of David Hyde Pierce flopping his nut sack around while dancing with Jenna Elfman, I finished the post and was ready for what attention whores like me (and most of the Academy) love: attention.
It wasn’t anything in that post that changed my mind on running it, nor was it a change of heart. Instead, it was a moment of self-reflection brought on by my work-muse.
A few months ago, our department was mired in the kind of academic navel-gazing, in-fighting, shit-box stuff that makes people really hate to go to work. As someone far smarter than I noted, the reason the fights in academia are so bitter is because the stakes are so low. After a few threats were levied against me, I noticed that my health and quality of life had taken a turn for the worse. I talked to my doctor who told me that it was likely to get worse unless I got out of there.
I applied for a job several states away. Better colleagues. Better pay. Better hours. The only real downside at that point was that it would be life on the road again when it came to family matters. At least that was the only downside I could see at the time…
The week after I completed my Skype interview with this new school (by the way, worst invention ever for interviews. Had to wear headphones. Looked like Princess Leia the whole damned time…) I went down to the newsroom for our production night. I didn’t quite know how or when would be a good time to tell them I was probably out the door.
I watched them work on stuff, shouting out orders to one another, joking about something or other and so forth. One of the women farted. The room got quiet for a moment. Everyone started laughing.
Someone found a Gummy Frog that someone else had impaled on a pencil. We started kidding the news editor about her fear of frogs. Someone said something that had a double entendre to it. “Quick! Write that one the quote board!” someone else yelled from across the room.
It would have been surreal to most people. To me, it felt like that soft, fuzzy sweater I wear when I’m sick and cold: perfectly comforting.
A week later, I found out I was bounced out of the pool for the job. I half-jokingly told a friend that someone on the committee must have found my Twitter feed.
My wife told me it was probably for the best. The new position didn’t come with a student newspaper. I kind of agreed, but it was still a bit disheartening.
I felt like a guy in a bad dating situation who was blindsided when the girl called it quits before I could. It was like, “If anyone’s ending this relationship, it’s me, not you.” I might not have taken the job if it were offered, but I don’t want someone else telling me I’m not good enough.
I sent a few emails to colleagues I’d grown up with in Ph.D.-land. These were the folks who went from the program to the same kind of school I was at now and then moved on to the “good jobs” of higher prestige and higher positions. They were the associate deans and the leaders at the “name” schools who had once looked at me and said, “Wow, how the hell do publish so much?” They made more money. They were cited as experts.
I was fighting with a mentally imbalanced idiot and trying to convince my university to spend money on an award-winning student newspaper. I was becoming the tragic tale of wasted youth.
The doc friends, of course, saw it differently. I was working hard, I was doing fine, I probably didn’t want their lives. I wasn’t a waste.
Intuitively, it was hard to see it, so I just let it drop. I had way too much shit going on to worry about it. I had committed to a convention on the West Coast for student journalism and I needed to prepare like hell.
The day I was getting ready to leave, we caught about 11 inches of snow. I was driving Sparky down the freeway at 35 mph for almost three hours to make it to Milwaukee in a blizzard. The planes were delayed and I eventually got out of there.
I made my connection in LAX and landed in Oakland, which at least meant I wasn’t going to be late. As I walked up to the baggage carousel, there was a guy who looked like a football free safety standing there in a suit and tie holding a piece of paper with my name on it.
“Are you here for me?” I asked in that incredulous, no-shit? kind of way.
“Yes, sir. Compliments of the convention,” the driver said.
“Holy shit! Can I keep the sign?” I asked.
He laughed and handed it over. I tucked it into my bag carefully and we rode into San Francisco.
Over the last two days, I’ve spoken until my voice fell out, critiqued newspapers on the fly and laughed with former students who have become friends. I helped the convention people stuff convention bags and hugged people I only see once a year. After the first night, I stopped having the incessant nightmares about trying to sell our house or being tossed out of my department. Last night, I went to bed at 9 and slept for 9 hours, the first time that happened in a long time.
For some people, student media is a job. For me, it’s a reward.
Somewhere, sometime, a long, long time ago, it got a hold of me and it never really let go. It’s the counterbalance and the salvation. It took my soul and promised to care for it. It is the small flicker of light in the darkest of rooms.
I remember reading or seeing a quote about Gordie Howe a long time ago. I think it was Dave Diles, a famous Detroit sportscaster, who explained that even after Gordie retired from the NHL as an active player at age 52, he still couldn’t let go. When the Whalers sent him out to scout minor league teams, he’d drive to the events with all of his hockey stuff in the trunk of the car, just in case they invited him onto the ice.
“For most of us,” Diles noted. “We think at some point, ‘Maybe I should do something else or be something else.’ That wasn’t him. Gordie never wanted to be anything other than a hockey player.”
There are probably more important things I could be doing with my time and whatever talent I have managed to marshal. I could be breaking ground in scholarship or crunching numbers with Nate Silver or moving to some place where I could be an expert from a “name” place.
Or, maybe I am a tragic tale of a life misspent. Had I worked more in doing X or climbing ladder Y at an earlier age, I’d be where those in this field felt I should be. Instead, I cast my lot and landed here and this is where I’ll be forever. I mean, really, at what point do you stop being “full of promise” and just start becoming whatever you actually are?
I guess I’ll never really know the answer. What I do know is that I spent yesterday afternoon with a kid who had his ears gauged out to about a half inch, a tattoo around his neck and a stud through is lip, gushing about how fucking incredible his art work was and begging him to do a sketch of me at some point. I talked to a returning student who was probably three years older than I am who was still finding herself and her footing as a journalist, convincing her that she has more than enough time to turn her paper around. I drank and ate my fill for free and could have doubled it, given the number of people here who said, “Dude I owe you a drink for…” whatever it was.
So, I’m sorry Seth. You’re on your own.
Gratitude and soul-saving warmth are rare these days.
And they deserve to be celebrated.
I usually try not to pile on someone who's getting their ass kicked by lots of people. There are, of course, exceptions to every rule and this is one of them. I am old enough to remember when Bob Woodward was a jewel in the crown of American journalism. His work in the 1970's merited the hype and accolades. The worm (no, not Dennis Rodman) turned with Woodward's book about Reagan's CIA director Bill Casey wherein Bob-O may have concocted a deathbed conversation with the aged spook. Things then went from bad to worse, which is why he is malaka of the week.
You've all heard about Woodward's claim about what the President knew about sequestration and when he knew it. (Deliberate Watergate reference.) Woodward went on to argue that Obama should ignore/violate the law and strong-arm Congress into saying Uncle. A curious position for a man who helped drive Tricky Dick from office but Woodward is beyond logic these days. He shares the odd disdain that many Washington insiders have for Barack Obama. I guess the Prez should spend more time in his jammies at sleepovers at Bob's crib...
If that weren't malakatude enough, there's the artist formerly known as Wodstein's claim that an un-named White House aide had threatened him. Bob's claim gave the wingnut media and blogosphere the vapors. Then it turned out to be a warning from Obama adviser Gene Sperling that Woodward would be sorry for going off half-cocked. That's all there was to it, y'all. Additionally, Sperling is a middle-aged white guy with more than one chin who hasn't scared anyone in his years as an aide to Clinton and Obama. Gene Fucking Sperling, the enforcer? Please Bob. He's no Chuck Colson. Hell, he's barely even a Jeb Magruder or Dwight Chapin...
I started off writing this post with a buncha, buncha burning hyperlinks but decided not to do the old cut and paste. Why? Too lazy I guess, just like Woodward who is too lazy to double check his sources and make sure he knows what the fuck he's talking about.
Woodward has long been discredited by his role in propagandizing Bush and Cheney's war but I still have some pangs when I see All The President's Men, The Final Days and The Brethren sitting dusty in the big ass cedar bookcase in my study. They're now relics of a by-gone era when Woodward was a giant instead of a malaka. That, however, is what he is. He's clearly a charter member of the malakatude hall of fame, fallen idols division.
Odds Against Tomorrow is a beautifully shot and well acted late period film noir from 1959. It's a combination caper/social commentary flick produced by star Harry Belafonte. It features yet another skilled variation on Robert Ryan's villainous shtick as a racist sociopath. It's director Robert Wise's last edgy indie film before he went over to the mainstream dark side and directed <sigh> The Sound Of Music among others. Wise pulled out all the stops here and delivered a helluva film before donning lederhosen...
The movie is based on a pretty darn good pulp novel by William P. McGivern:
Here are 2 lobby card variations. One of them is kind of blurry but it's a great image so what's a bit of blurriness among friends?
Here's the trailer, which gets the release date wrong:
Actually, and I've said this in comments here at First Draft and elsewhere, watching Tony waddle off into his dotage in a fizzle of petulance is a good thing. Whether deserved or not -- probably not -- Scalia was presumed to have at least some intellectual heft. But certainly since Bush v. Gore and possibly earlier, he's demonstrated clearly that he's just another wingnut hack. A dangerous one, to be sure, and damn if I wish he wasn't almost anywhere except the bench, but I'll take anything that drops him down a peg.
I just finished reading David Halberstam's great 1999 book The Children for the first time. I'm not sure why it took me so long to read it since Halberstam is one of my heroes and I'm deeply interested in the history of the Civil Rights Movement but better late than never.
The timing is also somewhat fortuitous because the SNCC "children" of the title were responsible for the Nashville sit-ins, the Freedom Rides and the Selma March, a series of epic events that helped lead to the passage of the 1965 Voting Rights Act. That is, in turn,a big story today because the Supremes took up an Alabama case that wants to rip out the heart of that act, Section 5. Discrimination? What discrimination? We have a black President, what more do *those* people want? Sorry, for channeling Justice Scalia but his "crazy wingnut uncle who watches Fox News all day" shtick is contagious, y'all.
Crazy Nino has stopped caring about his public image as a judge who believe in judicial restraint. If he were *actually* a true conservative, he'd defer to Congress instead of going off like Archie Bunker the first time he met George Jefferson, but Crazy Nino is too far gone for that. Here's hoping that at least one of the conservative Justices can read the election results instead of trying to dictate them, and the Court upholds this vital provision.
Back to The Children. It's a must read. For me, reading (and re-reading) Halberstam is like hanging out with an old friend who writes long sentences and is obsessed with semi-colons. That may be contagious since I write some rather epic sentences and tend to be at least semi-high colonic as well. <rim shot> Anyway, nobody writes narrative non-fiction prose quite as well as Halberstam and his biographical snap shots of his "characters" are unsurpassable.
Dr. A and I saw Halberstam speak at the Louisiana Book Festival in Red Stick one year. It took place in the state house chamber and I halfway expected someone to offer me a bribe or to shake me down for one. As I said before, Halberstam was one of my idols so Dr. A suggested that I chat him up. I couldn't do it, I was afraid that I'd babble like an idiot a la Ralph Kramden going "humina humina." I wish that I'd given it the old college try but I did not.
One more thing about The Children. John Lewis is one of the central figures in the book. I didn't think it was possible for me to admire him more than I already did but it happened upon reading this book. I knew that he was a remarkable man but he is also genuinely humble as you may have noticed if you saw him with Rachel Maddow tonight. (When he told Rachel he was honored to be there, he meant it.) If I were him, I'd be a raging egomaniac but John Lewis remains the same modest kid who grew up in racist rural Alabama and became an American hero. Strike that. John Lewis is an American super hero.
The great classical pianist Van Cliburn has died at the age of 78. He became an American icon and cold war hero without firing a shot:
In April 1958, Mr. Cliburn went to Moscow at the height of the Cold War and brought home the gold medal in the new Tchaikovsky International Piano Competition for his rendition of the composer’s Concerto No. 1. The contest had been established to showcase the Russian superiority in culture, a mere six months after the scientific triumph of launching Sputnik, the first space satellite.
Mr. Cliburn’s performance — the crystalline touch, the welling songfulness — prompted an eight-minute standing ovation. But such were the political tensions of the time, the judges of the competition checked with Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev before announcing their decision to give the prize to a non-Soviet musician.
“Is he the best?” Khrushchev is said to have replied. “Then give him the prize!”
And Nikita knew from long-hair music. Maybe not, he was a short, squat and bald prole after all...
Here's Van the man tickling the ivories:
(crossposted at driftglass blog)
One of the predictable and hilarious side-effects of the Big Conservative Project to Destroy American has been that even the most proficient cookers and dealers of wingnut meth have started snorting/ shooting/ smoking/ pontificating their own product.
And the results aren't pretty.
The Morning Plum: The false equivalence pundits are part of the problemWhen your business is cooking the wingnut meth that powers the Big Conservative Project to Destroy American, you don't want a criminal lawyer.
Posted by Greg Sargent on February 26, 2013 at 9:12 am
I must admit that this post title is a genuine oxymoron. For a guy who wants the GOP to stop being the stupid party, PBJ spends most of his time swimming in the shallow end of the intellectual pool. Time to quote Dave Weigel quoting Politico quoting PBJ on the Voting Rights Act:
“Unlike the Democratic Party, we’re not trying to divide the American people,” Louisiana Gov. Bobby Jindal said Monday when asked by POLITICO about the race-related and gay rights issues the court is tackling. “The reality is as Republicans we want to unify the country. … We don’t think demographics is destiny. We treat everybody as an individual.”
I have no idea what he means by this but neither does he since Republicans have *specialized* in wedge issues since the days of Tail Gunner Joe and Tricky Dick. PBJ's reputation as a Brainiac continues to mystify me. Perhaps he benefits from positive stereotypes about Indian-Americans or something. He does, however, talk real fast so maybe that's it.
That is all.
I've only seen Duck Dynasty a few times but I know it involves dudes from Monroe, LA will long ZZ Top-style beards. I'm not sure if their fellow Monrovian and frequent FD commenter, Mass, is proud of them but Morrissey clearly is not:
The TV series "Duck Dynasty" is coming between Morrissey and Jimmy Kimmel.
The singer and animal rights activist says he canceled his appearance Tuesday on ABC's "Jimmy Kimmel Live" because "Duck Dynasty" cast members will be on the talk show.
Morrissey says he can't perform on a show with what he called people who "amount to animal serial killers."
A&E's "Duck Dynasty" reality show follows a Louisiana family with a business selling duck calls and decoys.
A&E did not immediately respond to requests for comment from it and the Robertson family.
A person familiar with the Kimmel show's plans confirmed that Morrissey was to appear. The person lacked authority to discuss the matter publicly and spoke on condition of anonymity.
The person says Morrissey's performance will be rescheduled.
ABC says the Churchill band will perform Tuesday on Kimmel's show but declined comment on the switch.
Morrissey is not known for his sense of humor but he is famous for the tune below so I'll let the humorlessness slide. He may be pompous but he *is* principled:
Hmm, I wonder if his estranged ex-bandmate Johnny Marr will chime in. Probably not, he's too busy slagging off on Prime Minister David (Posh Boy) Cameron.
Since A is off frolicking on vacay, it's up to me to post this quite marvelous quote from Big John, who is in the non-frolicsome German capitol:
"In America, you have a right to be stupid if you want to be,” Kerry said, speaking about how the U.S. deals with [religious] intolerance. “And you have a right to be disconnected to somebody else if you want to be. And we tolerate it. "
Fuck yeah, Mistah Secretary.
It is still news of the weird time here at First Draft. This odd info was cribbed from a column by one of my favorite writers at the Guardian, Simon Hoggart:
We have friends from our days in Washington who have always been involved in foreign affairs and diplomacy. They have long experience, and would like some more – perhaps by his becoming an ambassador. The most desired posts – London, Paris, Beijing, Tokyo, etc – are out of reach because they always go to the big fundraisers, usually with a career diplomat at their elbow telling them what to do. Our friends would be happy with something quite modest. But they are in competition with hundreds, perhaps thousands of others. And the process is incredibly lengthy and complicated. A single ill-wisher in the state department or the White House can ruin your chances. Even having a close chum in a position of power does not necessarily help. Some time ago, the wife reported: "We were on track for a multilateral position in Vienna, till we received a call from our best friend in White House personnel. Things could go sideways for us. Why? Because The Sound Of Music had just been shown on network TV, leading to 'a new surge of interest in Austria'."
I am legendary for my loathing of this film even though I like the composers, director and stars. There's just something about it that inspires OTT hatred on my part.
Back to the Ambassadorial angle. Simon's piece has implanted images in my head of wealthy Dems strolling about Foggy Bottom whilst wearing lederhosen and imitating Wolfgang Puck. Perhaps the best Puck impersonator should get the job or they should have a Sound Of Music sing-off or some such shit.
Ah, the things I think about first thing in the morning, which evokes a Rogers and Hammerstein song from a better musical:
The last part of the post title is one of the best lines in the entertaining but historically errant best picture winner. The theocratic Iranian government dislikes the movie but does like photoshop. Say what? That's right, the Iranian news agency Fars photoshopped FLOTUS' shoulders and guns out of a picture at their web site. Here's a before and after shot courtesy of the Telegraph:
Fars or farce in Farsi? You decide.
One more thing. I have an alternate headline for this post,
Iran To Hollywood: Affleck Off.
That is all.
ILLINOIS IMPACTSIf sequestration were to take effect, some examples of the impacts on Illinois this year alone are:
- Teachers and Schools: Illinois will lose approximately $33.4 million in funding for primary and secondary education, putting around 460 teacher and aide jobs at risk. In addition about 39,000 fewer students would be served and approximately120 fewer schools would receive funding.
- Education for Children with Disabilities: In addition, Illinois will lose approximately $24.7 million in funds for about 300 teachers, aides, and staff who help children with disabilities.
- Work-Study Jobs: Around 3,280 fewer low income students in Illinois would receive aid to help them finance the costs of college and around 2,650 fewer students will get work-study jobs that help them pay for college.
- Head Start: Head Start and Early Head Start services would be eliminated for approximately 2,700 children in Illinois, reducing access to critical early education.
- Protections for Clean Air and Clean Water: Illinois would lose about $6.4 million in environmental funding to ensure clean water and air quality, as well as prevent pollution from pesticides and hazardous waste. In addition, Illinois could lose another $974,000 in grants for fish and wildlife protection.
- Military Readiness: In Illinois, approximately 14,000 civilian Department of Defense employees would be furloughed, reducing gross pay by around $83.5 million in total.
- Army: Base operation funding would be cut by about $19 million in Illinois.
- Air Force: Funding for Air Force operations in Illinois would be cut by about $7 million.
- Navy: Four planned Naval Station Great Lakes demolition projects ($2 million) could be canceled and a scheduled Blue Angels show in Rockford could be canceled.
- Law Enforcement and Public Safety Funds for Crime Prevention and Prosecution: Illinois will lose about $587,000 in Justice Assistance Grants that support law enforcement, prosecution and courts, crime prevention and education, corrections and community corrections, drug treatment and enforcement, and crime victim and witness initiatives.
- Job Search Assistance to Help those in Illinois find Employment and Training: Illinois will lose about $1.4 million in funding for job search assistance, referral, and placement, meaning around 50,780 fewer people will get the help and skills they need to find employment.
- Child Care: Up to 1,100 disadvantaged and vulnerable children could lose access to child care, which is also essential for working parents to hold down a job.
- Vaccines for Children: In Illinois around 5,230 fewer children will receive vaccines for diseases such as measles, mumps, rubella, tetanus, whooping cough, influenza, and Hepatitis B due to reduced funding for vaccinations of about $357,000.
- Public Health: Illinois will lose approximately $968,000 in funds to help upgrade its ability to respond to public health threats including infectious diseases, natural disasters, and biological, chemical, nuclear, and radiological events. In addition, Illinois will lose about $3.5 million in grants to help prevent and treat substance abuse, resulting in around 3,900 fewer admissions to substance abuse programs. And the Illinois State Department of Public Health will lose about $186,000 resulting in around 4,600 fewer HIV tests.
- STOP Violence Against Women Program: Illinois could lose up to $273,000 in funds that provide services to victims of domestic violence, resulting in up to 1,000 fewer victims being served.
- Nutrition Assistance for Seniors: Illinois would lose approximately $764,000 in funds that provide meals for seniors.
Good morning, everyone - well, I was gonna pull a Tbogg and threaten to quit this popcorn stand (so Athenae could talk me down and stroke my ego a little), but Ms. A isn't answering her phone, and all my letters are coming back with "not at this address" stamped on them, except for the last one, which bore the legend "Who the fuck are you, anyway?".
Probably the commie Post Office workers preparing for their upcoming every-Saturday Baccanalia.
Anywhoo, since there's no one to tender my resignation to, I might as well go to work and pray someone's still paying the electric bill for the containment building,
The blogs have been all a-fire with snark about the GOP's effort to rebrand themselves, so let's look at Freeperville's attempt to get in on the remodeling craze, shall we?
First up - wrestling with their image!
The WWE's Tea Party Wrestler Is Making Conservatives Hit the Mat Atlantic ^
Posted on Thursday, February 21, 2013 11:09:41 PM by Arthurio
CONNOR SIMPSON 5,918 ViewsF EB 20, 2013
The WWE's new bad guys in town are not-so-loosely inspired by the Tea Party, and that has conservative commentators not-so-quietly complaining that the company is bringing back a movement already under siege from Karl Rove — this time in one of the country's most curious of conservative spotlights, and as a couple of outwardly racist xenophobes who want to send Mexicans back across the border. Even if that was kind of the whole point.
On the February 11 episode of Monday Night Raw — frequently the highest rated cable show in the country — the fake-wrestling franchise re-introduced "Real American" Jack Swagger, after a few months off, with a new gimmick. He had longer, messier hair, a mean scowl, and a newfound hype man. Swagger's faux-manager, not so accidentally named Zebadiah Colter, sported a bushy hunter's beard and wore a beige vest as he yelled to the crowd: "What's wrong with America?" Colter then explained that he "doesn't recognize" today's America. He said he saw people with faces "not like mine" and heard people that "can't even talk to me," and he screamed out again to the Nashville audience and the Americans at home: "Where did all these people come from?" And then Colter, who's used other surnames to fit his gimmick in the past, threw out some catchphrases familiar to any Tea Party observer — "We, the people" was prominent — and made a point to stress, over and over, that he and Swagger were "real Americans." Oh, did the crowd ever boo. Swagger and Colter are supposed to be the WWE's big new bad guys, and they drew "heat" from the crowd, as wrestling people say. They hated him.
Kind of makes me glad I cancelled the cable.
Except he got busted for pot yesterday so he fits Occupy better.
Just another TV character being used to slime and insult conservatives. What is so new?
and how many FReepers thought the McMahon family would not do something like this? lol..
I may be alone with this, but this angle doesn’t offend me in the least. Its just to put over Alberto Del Rio, who’s a top notch performer.
They are taking a great American sport and using its genuine athletic competition and mocking the conservative movement.
To: Arthurio; a fool in paradise; Slings and Arrows
Lucha Libre is an All-American sport! Like roller derby, cockfighting and ladies mud wrestling! MSM better stay away from them!
One bad award show a year is sufficient for me. I'm watching the Academy Awards right now and may post a tape delayed/live blogging thingee latter if I have the oomph. In lieu of that, here's more 10cc:
Good evening, cats & kittens. While our esteemed hostess is taking a wee bit of well-deserved away-from time, I have the honor of dropping a post or two in your laps. The only things I promised her was that A) my posting would be irregular and shot through with as many typos as kernels of corns in a state fair outhouse, and, B) that I would try to pick as many pointless, peevish fights with as many of my aggressively relentless blogging brother and sisters as possible as fast as possible.
So let it be done.
Today at the Gasbag Jamboree, all the usual wind-up toy people juggled all the usual shuck and humbug.
Alex Pareene at Salon surveys the wreckage:
Watching the Sunday shows so you don’t have to
Today, some centrist pundits and legislators solved the sequester by demanding "balance" and "leadership"
Not to worry, Alex: a handful of hardy blogger Rangers have been monitoring their transmissions for years.
We watch for the One.
We snark for the One (note the young Walter White, before he became a weaponized capitalist.)
Yes, the Sunday Mouse Circus really is just as bad as you imagine.
And yes, it really is getting worse with each iteration.
See you good people later.
Dr A and I just watched the American Masters profile of gospel singer/rock pioneer, Sister Rosetta Tharpe. It turns out that Sister Rosetta and a bunch of other Yanks including Muddy Waters did a kinda goody show on British teevee in 1964. I'd never heard of it before, so my leg is all tingly, Tweety style. It was filmed in a train station in Manchester. Here it is: