Picture courtesy of: PinkisthenewBlog(You should look up 'revocation' in the Oxford English Dictionary.)
Who knew going back to school would be so much fun? Last night's episode of bitchy teen soap Gossip Girl saw the children of the New York elite returning to their fancy pants school after a summer of lazing about Europe and the Hamptons, and a true return to form for the show's writers who were... I dunno, lazing about their couches all summer. Relationships crumbled, secrets were revealed, and, most importantly, there was drinking.
There's this imagined New York that I adore, in which 16 and 17-year-olds can sidle up to the toniest bars north of 14th street and just order up any damn drink they please. Half-full martini (perfect for sexy sloshing!) for Serena? Sure! Scotch on the rocks (or whatever) for lunky Larry Lacrosse from Dalton? Absolutely. It's hysterical and I love it. I just hope the real kids don't think it works that way. Anyway, yes, there was a bar. It was the culmination of a series of bitchy miscommunications involving a dopey girl with bangs named Amanda and Serena's bitchy former posse of friends.
Newly broken up, Serena and Dan were awkward on their first day of school. Then The Troubles began. Dan was seen chatting with Bangsmanda, Serena got sad, her friends got mad. Bangsmanda was invited into the crew by a be-field-hockeyed Blair, then instructed to stay away from Danny. Bangsmanda said no, dragged Dan to a bar, Gossip Girl found out, everyone was mad and sad and Dan was confused and such a boyyyyyy about it. So Serena said "eff it, let's the three of us go out" and so they did but Bangsmanda was acting the fool about Rilke and Dan was guffawing along with her so Serena—a woman after my own heart—decided to get wasted and hit on people. Meanwhile those two little lackeys (the black one and the vaguely Mediterranean one) decided to be wicked and pour Nair on Bangsmanda's beautiful nest of hair. It started falling out, Serena acted innocent, Dan flipped out and said that she was, at heart, a Mean Girl, and that was the end of that. Bitchy Serena was back. "From now on, everything goes through me" she said icily to Token and Jimmy the Greek. Oohhh. It was wonderful! Though, Serena's character is written so hilariously inconsistently. I think she maybe has some sort of personality disorder that will haunt her terribly in her later years, but for now it's fun!
To read the rest of the hilarious recap click here
At what point does love turn to ambivalence, and ambivalence to hate? I would suggest that, in the case of Project Runway's awful Kenley, I began to seriously cool on her last week (ambivalence!) and really just couldn't abide her anymore last night (hate). Which was funny because I actually kinda liked two of the other people I've normally disliked. The world is upside down! Project Runway is lurching ever closer to the end of its final Bravo season!
Last night there were moms—short ones, tall ones, fat ones, skinny ones, even ones with chicken pox—and their daughters. The challenge was to give the recent college-graduate daughters a head-to-toe makeover to prepare them for the professional world. No mind was paid to the fact that this country is currently a scorched, burnt-over land where no one can get jobs, no matter how smartly they are dressed. But, no matter! On with the challenge.
Korto talked a lot about her daughter and then made a coat out of a potato sack. Her girl, a 22-year-old (I think) who looked significantly older, seemed to like the look. Perhaps she is presciently planning a career as a boxcar hobo. She's just one pickle barrel away from the Complete Look! Leanne, turning very slowly into a mouse so she can meet her boyfriend, Luke from The Witches, made some sort of school marm frumpy dump jacket that covered up her Contempo CasualsSignature Collection dress. She received necessary criticism and will hopefully rally next week, even though it appears to be a hip hop challenge and Leanne couldn't be whiter if she was made of snow and drove a Volkswagen. She is my favorite to win it, so hopefully she'll bounce back.
On to Suede, who made something very sad and strange and reminiscent of a time that never quite existed. Sure, you saw jackets like his—with shopping mall-daring flared sleeves and tacked-on purple stripes—in the pink cardboard boxes of Barbie doll fashions and on the overly-lit soundstages of shows like Saved By the Bell andCalifornia Dreams, but no one in the history of the known world has ever actually worn such a thing. Which is why it was such a wrenching bit of industrial horror techno to watch his poor model/real girl tromp on down the runway in it. Nina Garcia was appropriately tight-lipped about it. I think if she'd opened her mouth, wasps would have flown out of it and the skies would have blackened and all that would have been left would be a candle to huddle around and the vague hope for some kind of merciful god. All that said, though, he didn't go home. Which is fine, because he said some funny things this episode. Yes Suede did.
And then Jerrell who, bless his skinny heart, endeared himself to me by calling himself weird and not being arrogant and designing a lovely dress for a lovely girl. He gets both points on and points off for wearing his Pan, nymph of the forest headdress on the runway and in his victory lap Elle photoshoot. For shame, Jerrell. But also: good for you Jerrell! I suspect he'll be joining Leanne in the finals.
You know who won't be joining Leanne in the finals? Ol' Joe Schmo, our regulah guy friend from Deeetroit, Em Eye who would have won this competition soundly had it been fought in 1988. He was, as the acerbic and wonderful (come back any time!) guest judge Cynthia Rowley put it, completely out of touch. He made an ill-fitting stewardess' uniform that Diane Keaton wore in Baby Boom 2: Sam Shepard's Not In This One. Yes he has daughters and it is sad that he has to go back to them empty handed, but it is also good that he has daughters and that he went home to them. He still got to show at Fashion Week, so I consider it something of a victory anyway.
And then. And then and then and then. Do you remember that girl you knew in college who was fashionable in this timid, darting way. Who things never seemed to go quite right for until they really did and there was something so smug and self-satisfied about her success. And then you'd see her at parties or in the dining hall and she was always talking to boys, only boys, perhaps one out-of-her-league fellow in particular, in this cloying and sad and infuriating way. She would get a little too sloppy at parties and quietly profess her sad love for this boy—who probably played club lacrosse or rowed crew and had some family money and was kind but aloof to her—and she would glare at any girl in a shrill passive aggressive way if she felt encroached upon. That girl was someone you felt bad for, sure, but mostly you couldn't stand her. Because she was a poor representative of Women, the kind of deliberately damaged goods (I don't mean mental imbalance—I mean put-on modesty wrapped in over-confidence swathed in self-righteous anger) who made boys thinks that "chicks are crazy, man." That is Kenley. And that's all I'll say about her.
So yes, we rumble on toward the finale. Everyone in last night's episode did in fact show a collection at Fashion Week last week, so they're all winners! Except for Kenley who is a miserable annoyance who laughed—cackled, really—at Joe's misfortune during the judging. She blows. Evs. At least she seems to be getting hers in next week's episode.
OK. I'm going to stop writing now, lest I become another Hedda Lettuce.
While Margaret Cho's blog is very interesting at times (almost like crazy talk), she makes a LOT of good points- as Christians, oru responsbility is to share the Love of Christ, not judge others for what they do or don't do. We can and should teach what the Bible says, but to those who are eager to hear it. These "fake Christians" as she calls them (sidenote: I don't think anyone should judge anothers faith- they shouldn't judge hers, nor vice versa) are definitely mis guided in many areas, and it comes off as hatred, but they genuinely believe they are doing what God thinks is right. For her to shoot hatred back still doesn't solve anything. We all need to come together and get over our differences in our religious beliefs, political beliefs, etc. Name calling doesn't really accomplish that, ya know?
Anywho, read her blog below. It's a pretty good read.
Margaret has taken to her blog again - in a post entitled "I’m a Christian, you Fuckers" - and she's ANGRY!!!
Says Cho:
I’m a Christian, you Fuckers
All kinds of Christians are getting mad about my Sarah Palin comments, and it is pissing me off.First of all – you fucking fake Christians - don’t fucking question my Christianity. I grew up in the church. My grandfather was a minister, who is with God now and talks to me in my dreams from God’s corner office. I am a former Sunday school teacher. I taught the Bible to children and showed them how to love God and invite him into their hearts. I believe in God – but I don’t fear him. God is my best friend. God is my ally. God is my boyfriend. God is my best fag. I am God’s fag hag cuz didn’t you know, God is a big fag. Serious bottom too. Butch in the streets, femme in the sheets. That is my God. God is my biggest fan. God gets me, dude.
God wants us all to just get along. He doesn’t give a shit about the profanity. The bitch fucking invented profanity. He thinks it is hilarious. He just wants you to talk to him, and he doesn’t care what you have to say. He just wants to keep the conversation going. Like Jay-Z, he just wants to love you. He just wants you to be able to make your own decisions. God is all about you and what you need. God is happy that you are gay. God made you fucking gay cuz he thinks it is awesome. God understands if you need to have an abortion. That is why he created abortion, on the 8th day. God accepts. God forgives. God loves all of us, even though some of us might have a problem with each other.
Don’t fucking question my Christianity you fucking idiot assholes. If you continue to have a problem, then talk to God about it, not me, you fucking racist homophobic misogynist fake Christian shitheads. God thinks it is funny that I swear so much. He said I could use his name in vain or whatever. He just wants me to use it. He loves me. So fuck you. And I guess he loves you too. Even though you are fake Christian assholes. If you were truly Christians, you would let gays get married, and send them fucking presents from Bed Bath and Beyond!
If you truly believed in Jesus, you would try to be like him and love us, fags and dykes and feminists all. God bless you, even you. You fucking fuckers.
"After taking office in 1996, she allowed the town's police department to begin charging rape victims for the forensic work done in their cases. She signed off on the budget that detailed the new police policy -- a directive instituted by her hand-picked police chief after she fired his predecessor. The unexplained reversal in Wasilla's procedure dictated that rape victims, unlike the victims of other crimes, now would have to pay for the investigative work done at the crime scene.
In a rape case, of course, the crime scene is the woman's body.
When Sarah Palin was mayor of Wasilla, the town suddenly started charging rape victims between $300 and $1200 to have the rapist's DNA and other forensic evidence taken, tested, cataloged and investigated.
That meant that women who came to local police for help after being battered, brutalized and victimized, faced one more violation. These women had to pay for the privilege of having their cases treated as crimes.
Palin's then-police chief Charlie Fannon defended this policy with the explanation that he wanted to save taxpayers' money. He said the raped women's insurance policies were billed -- when possible. In those cases, the women only had to pay the deductible. Of course, this being America, many women were uninsured, unprotected from both their attackers and the big bills.
Gee, thanks, guys.
Oddly enough, Fannon did not make the same kind of choice in other criminal cases. He did not make people injured by hit-and-run drivers or mugging victims or the families of murdered men and women cough up money to investigate their cases or collect evidence to catch their attackers.
It only happened in rape cases.
Hmmm.
Now, why would that be?
There is one terrible possibility: that this happened because somebody in charge in Wasilla -- either the police chief or the Mayor or both -- hails from the craziest corner of the pro-life community, the people who believe that birth control is abortion.
These people oppose paying for forensic work in rape cases because as part of that process -- as a final step in a humiliating and dehumanizing procedure -- a woman is typically asked if she would like a "morning after" pill, a medication that will prevent a fertilized egg from implanting in the lining of her uterus. The treatment is believed to be about 80% effective in preventing pregnancy."
All that being said, if I or any of my friends were (God forbid) ever to be raped, it would be an absolute OUTRAGE if any of us were ordered to pay for our rape kit. That is essentially implying that the rape were our fault and we should be held responsible for it- don't even get me started on that.
If you wanna finish reading the rest of the article then click here
A few weeks ago, the children were freak dancing, presumably with the support of a filming guardian. Today, they're being goaded by an adult into violently berating another little girl who they say is "big in the stomach."
Videos like this always remind me of a great Keanu Reeves quote from 1989's Parenthood:
You know, Mrs. Buckman, you need a license to buy a dog, to drive a car - hell, you even need a license to catch a fish. But they'll let any butt-reaming asshole be a father.
Click through for the NSFW, horrifying clip.
Danny Goldberg writes about Kurt Cobain and co in new book
The rise of social media has made it easier than ever to keep in touch with friends, relatives and coworkers. With a few keystrokes you can reconnect with an old high school buddy, learn what your coworker’s favorite band is, or play Scrabble with a friend who lives on the other side of the globe.
But while increased connectivity is an undeniably good thing, you can just as easily use it to annoy the living hell out of everyone you know. This is the internet, after all, and if something on the internet can be used in an annoying way, you can safely assume that 99% of the population will proceed to do so (go try reading a comment on YouTube if you don’t believe me).
People need rules to tell them how to act. Luckily I went to the top of Mount Internet last night, and God handed me down these 10 Commandments of Facebook for all to obey. Follow them or you’ll go to hell.
1. Thou Shalt Not List Every Movie, TV Show, Band and Book You Have Ever Heard Of In Your Profile
“You like The Office? I like The Office!!!”
Do you like Radiohead, A Confederacy of Dunces, and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off? Do you enjoy watchingThe Office and Family Guy? Of course you do - everyone likes those things. Why make it a point to express your enthusiasm for things that everyone likes?
Maybe you’re cooler than that. Maybe you’re into cool, obscure bands like Fela Kuti and Einstürzende Neubauten. Awesome, dude - you have impeccable taste in shit that nobody has ever heard of. Congratulations.
Everyone knows that a person is only as good as their taste in books, movies, bands and TV shows, but what exactly do you hope to accomplish by posting a 5,000-item laundry list? Are you going to forge deep and meaningful new relationships with people based on a mutual appreciation ofEntourage, or sever ties with good friends because they AREN’T into Fela Kuti? If you feel the need to share this information with the world (and I know that you do), keep it as short as possible. Remember: You’re not going to impress anyone. It’s the Internet. Nobody is impressed by ANYTHING on the Internet.
2. Thou Shalt Not “Poke” Indiscriminately
This guy was into “the poke.” He’s dead now (probably).
Maybe I’m missing something here, but as far as I can tell, “poking” people serves absolutely no purpose other than prompting the person on the other side to “poke” you back, sparking off a potentially infinite spiral of pointlessness that makes everyone involved just a little bit dumber than they were when it started. Before you know it you’re installing apps that offer “pro” pokes, “office” pokes, and “sexy” pokes. “Indiscriminately” might not even be the right word here. How about “Thou Shalt Not ‘Poke’ EVER” or “Thou Shalt Not ‘Poke’ Because That Shit Is Completely Retarded And Pointless”?
3. Thou Shalt Not “Friend” People You Don’t Actually Know
This guy is Gladstone’s “friend.”
What does the word “friend” mean to you? It means different things to different people, but most would agree that a “friend” is someone that you actually know. Ideally someone you’ve met in real life. I know that’s not always going to be the case (Gladstone would have exactly ZERO friends on Facebook if he had to follow that rule), but I’m sure we can all agree that if someone is your friend, you should at least KNOW WHO THEY ARE.
If you vaguely remember someone from high school but you don’t remember how you actually knew them, then chances are you guys weren’t very good friends to begin with. Of course, it’s also entirely possible that you guys were total besties and you’re going through some sort of Memento-like amnesia. If so, disregard this commandment, add everyone you possibly can as a friend, and send them all messages that say, “WHO AM I? DEAR GOD, PLEASE TELL ME WHO I AM!”
4. Thou Shalt Not Use A Wall As A Private Messaging Function
The “Wall” is one of Facebook’s most popular features. That being said, there are times when it might be a good idea to move your conversation to a private venue. Here’s a handly little chart to help illustrate when it’s appropriate to communicate on a public Facebook wall, and when it’s INAPPROPRIATE to do so:
Hopefully that clears up some confusion.
5. Thou Shalt Not Join A Billion Groups
If you’re a black lesbian with a severe wheat allergy who also happens to be into Philip K. Dick and astrology, then you’re in luck: there are tons of groups on Facebook, and there’s sure to be at least one of them out there that caters to you. But with so many groups available, you have to draw a line in the sand somewhere. You might like chicken noodle soup quite a bit, but do you really need to join the Chicken Noodle Soup Group? Maybe you prefer sponges to forks, but do you really feel so strongly about it that you need to join SPONGES RULE - FORKS DONT!? If you think Gladstone is funny (and yes, I know that’s a big “if”), do you really want to join his group and announce it to the world? Of course not.
There’s nothing wrong with joining a few groups, but don’t go crazy. Oh - and don’t join Gladstone’s. Seriously. It will only encourage him.
6. Thou Shalt Not Use Stupid Apps
The other day I got a notification on Facebook letting me know that someone had “bought” me. Then someone else challenged me to a “race” where this crappy little car came up, I hit “Go!,” and a message popped up that said “YOU LOST THE RACE.” Then another notification popped up informing me that someone had “thrown a sheep” at me, asking if I’d like to install some sort of app to “throw a sheep” back at them. Then another notification popped up, but instead of clicking it I closed my laptop, walked down to the nearest highway overpass, and proceeded to get as drunk as a human being possibly can without dying.
There are thousands of apps available on Facebook, and although there are a few worth checking out, about 99.9% of them suck. A reasonably intelligent person should be able to tell the difference. If you can’t figure out which is which, maybe Facebook isn’t the place for you. Perhaps another social networking site would suit you better?
7. Thou Shalt Not Give “Gifts”
Q: What does all this crap have in common?
A: I don’t want any of it. (Except that Chinese paper lantern. That looks nice.)
I know this goes with the whole not-using-stupid-apps thing, but “gifts” are so stupid that they deserve their own commandment.
If you want to give me a “gift” of some kind - like a butterfly, a pink striped thong, or an adorable panda - give it to me in real life.
Yes, you heard me: give me a panda in real life.
I will raise it in my apartment, it will quickly become enormous and unmanageable, and then yes, it will most likely go on a rampage in my building and kill several people before being put down by a team of animal control specialists. Do I want all this senseless carnage? No, but given the choice, I’ll take a building full of dead neighbors over receiving a tiny picture of a pair of socks as a “gift” on Facebook.
Am I being too harsh? Maybe. Just give me that Chinese paper lantern and we’ll call it even.
8. Thou Shalt Not Contact People From Your Distant Past While Intoxicated
If you had a relatively normal childhood, you probably have some nice memories of the people you grew up with. Assuming those people feel the same way about you, Facebook creates a tinderbox-like atmosphere - all it takes is a few booze-soaked swipes at the keyboard to send off an incoherent missive that can easily shatter even the fondest of childhood memories.
It’s nice to let old friends know what you’ve been up to, but mixing Facebook with alcohol can be a potentially deadly combination.
9. Thou Shalt Not Update Thy Status Message If Thine Status Hath Not Changed (Or If You Have Nothing Clever To Say)
Status Update: Still watching the copy machine.
You have a full-time job, Monday through Friday, 9-5. We have a pretty good idea of what you’re doing when you’re at work - sitting at your desk, typing stuff, maybe talking on the phone every once in a while. Your weekdays are pretty predictable; your friends could use your routine to set their watches. You’re at work. We get it.
So here’s a tip: Wait until you either have something clever to say or - godforbid - something happens before you update your status message. A sandwich (good or bad), an observation about the upcoming election, a funny encounter in the hallway - it doesn’t have to be much, but it has to besomething. Here’s what I don’t need to know: that you’re still at your desk. I KNOW you’re at your desk. It’s a weekday during normal business hours. If your status hasn’t changed, why do you feel the need to “update” it?
10. Thou Shalt Not Act Like You’re On MySpace
Facebook: Not nearly enough glitter.
Welcome to Facebook - you’re all grown up now and it’s time to start acting like it. What does that mean? It means no more “pimping” out your page, no more “glitter” pictures, and no more crashing peoples’ browsers with tons of annoying embedded junk in your profile. Are you okay with that? Does the idea of a social networking site that is actually USABLE appeal to you? Even if it means you can’t make your page display blinking purple text on an animated rainbow background with Aqua’s “Barbie Girl” playing every time the page loads?
Yes, you can probably add some “pimp” apps or something if you really want to, but to do so you’re missing the point: Facebook and MySpace are completely different beasts. If you think a website with a white background looks “boring,” if you can’t go a day without filling out a survey and posting it as a bulletin, and if you can’t stand the idea of only being friends with actual people on a social networking website (as opposed to inanimate objects, abstract concepts and Tila Tequila), well, then maybe Facebook isn’t the place for you.
Or maybe I’m wrong. Feel free to throw a sheep at me and let me know.
