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Windsors Versus Weiner
By GAIL COLLINS
New York Times
July 24, 2013

“… The revelation [of NYC mayoral candidate Anthony Weiner's sexting] did have its moments of perverse fascination. Weiner’s nom de porn was Carlos Danger. We have never had a mayor with an official alter ego. Would it need a separate office? Maybe this is something other mayors would want to consider. Michael Bloomberg would probably want to be something like Horatio Health.”

"Carlos Danger" née Anthony Weiner

“Carlos Danger” née Anthony Weiner

I wish to express my concern and dismay at Mr. “Danger” née Weiner’s brazen adoption of a nom-de-Net outrageously similar to my own, a sleazy political trick obviously intended to confuse the public and ride my coattails. Moreover, I want to distance myself from him to the fullest extent and categorically state that I have no professional or personal relationship with him whatsoever, and any remarks or (ahem) activities by this individual do not reflect upon me in any way. Thank you.

ht_kristi_rifkin_family_nt_130430_wblog

Lose the tattoos — or lose the job!

ABC News

Kristi Rifkin had been working at T-Mobile Call Center in Nashville for four years when she got pregnant with her third child.  … But her good will toward the company changed once she got pregnant. … According to Rifkin, the pregnancy required her to drink “tons and tons” of water – which, in turn, resulted in frequent trips to the bathroom. … “I ended up using my vacation time to use the bathroom,” she said. She finally went on medical leave. … A month and a half after she returned to work she was fired, she said.

The reason? Rifkin says she was summarily fired after she failed to remove an extra-charge feature from a customer’s account, the commission for which was 12 cents.

Rifkin said she has no plans to sue the company; it’s too expensive, and Tennessee is an at-will employment state. “They can fire you for any reason,” she said . . .

And the reason you were fired, Kristi, is that you covered your body with stupid & unsightly tattoos. This is what happens to people who make that exceedingly regrettable choice — and deservedly so. (By the way, none of that Rifkin clan looks like they’re quite right in the head, know what I mean? Hillbillies in the city, I reckon — this IS Tennessee, after all . . .)

Tattooing has a long association with the worst kinds of paganism. Even pagan Graeco-Roman civilizations associated tattooing with barbaric, violent peoples like the Picts, Scythians, and Huns, as well as repulsive practices like cannibalism. Historically, the tattooing of slaves and prisoners has added further stigma to the practice.

For it is written: “You shall not … tattoo any marks on you.” (Leviticus 19:28)

No Comment Needed . . .

feminist_bookstore 800

A Heartbreaking Tale of Woe

Today, DPL received the following touching story of mishap and plea for help:

Date: Thu, 24 Jan 2013 10:11:11 -0800
From: missg____@yahoo.com
Subject: Sorrowful Trip…….G____
To:

Hello,
I’m writing this with great grievance, My family and I came down here to Manila, Philippines on a short vacation, Unfortunately we were mugged at the park of the hotel where we stayed, All money, credit card and cell phones were stolen away from us, luckily for us we still have our passports. Our credit cards can’t be charged by the hotel as we already reported it as a stolen card and the card company had canceled it, we can only get a new one when we make it back home safely.

We’ve been to the Embassy and the Police but they’re not helping issues at all, Our return flight leaves soon, we’re having problems settling our hotel bills and the hotel manager won’t let us leave until we settle the bills. We are really freaked out here and we really need your financial assistance, I promise to reimburse you as soon as we return back. Please let me know what you can do so i can proceed by giving you all the details on how to get the funds to us here via Western Union.

Kindest Regards,
G____.

My heartfelt reply:

Dear G___:

My, my — this is such a sad story … truly heartrending (Excuse me for a moment while I dry my eyes and compose myself).

400px-Manila_Bay

Manila’s beautiful night skyline

You know, I spent some time in Manila when I was in the Navy. I think it’s a very interesting city — you should just relax and enjoy your visit. After all, very few Americans ever have the opportunity to visit the PI, and you should be grateful for the privilege instead of whining to perfect strangers about your petty concerns and problems.

P.S. — Oh, and, speaking of interesting cities — as any New Yorker will tell you, it’s generally a good idea not to walk around in metropolitan parks after dark carrying all your money and credit cards. Here’s a suggestion: next time, try Travelers Checks — they’re ideal!

Have a great day!

D.P.
_________

“He talks as the man of his age talks, that is, with a rude wit, a lively sense of the grotesque, a disgust for sham, and a contempt for pettiness.”
–Raymond Chandler (on Philip Marlowe)
- – -

“I don’t mind if you don’t like my manners. I don’t like ‘em myself. they’re pretty bad. I grieve over them long winter evenings.”
–Philip Marlowe (Humphrey Bogart) in The Big Sleep

The 8 Ways of Xmas

Well, December has rolled around again, and although we’ve been getting bombarded with messages about the joy of Christmas (i.e. buying things) since Halloween, now it’s kicked into high gear.

DPL received an kitschy Christmas greeting (is there any other kind?) with suggestions on how to “Make Every Day Christmas,” such as marveling at a baby’s face, laughing often, prayer, and several other sentimental platitudes suitable for Good Housekeeping Magazine.

It seemed to call for an antidote — a counter-statement, as it were, if only to inoculate me against diabetes. So, in (my) spirit of the season, I give you . . .

How To Make Every Day Xmas: A Guide To (My) Year-Round Happiness

Happy frigging holidays — punk.

  1. Hold the Noise Down
  2. Put Down the Cell Phone
  3. Put Out the Cigarette
  4. Wash the Car
  5. Get a Haircut
  6. Lose the Eyebrow/Nose/Lip Rings
  7. Remove the Tattoos
  8. Drive the Speed Limit
 
I’ve had an epiphany of sorts regarding Ron Paul, or you might say a couple pieces of the story have come together for me.  It was provoked by a humorous characterization made by Gail Collins in an op-ed for the NY Times during the New Hampshire primary. She described Paul’s activist supporters as “slightly abrasive young men with high IQ’s who wear hunting caps with ear-flaps.” Classic Gail, of course. But I’ve noticed how (along with homophobes, white supremacists, anti-Semites, survivalist militiamen, and various conspiracy theory kooks) many Paul enthusiasts are college boys, and there’s a serious subtext here, I think.

In the Feb 23, 2012 issue of the New York Review of Books, there was an incisive article, “New Hampshire Follies” written by Charles Simic, and one paragraph in particular caught my attention:

If you had lived in New Hampshire during the primary campaign you would have heard several times a day that our mortal enemy is the government in Washington, with its huge budget deficit, taxes, business regulations, minimum wage, unemployment compensation, education grants, programs like Head Start, food stamps, and everything else that has improved the lives of Americans since the days of Franklin D. Roosevelt. For Ron Paul, all of these programs violate the Constitution. In other words, if we stopped aiding people unable to pay their heating bills this winter, we’d be on our way to restoring our greatness as a nation.”

Numerous scientific studies have shown that the higher instincts of human sympathy, empathy and fellow-feeling are the very last thing to develop in the adolescent brain, generally not fully manifest in most young people until the early to mid-20′s. I would go a step further to suggest (without scientific evidence to back up this opinion) that young men are even slower to develop these attributes than young women.

Moreover, very few college boys know the first thing about tough times, feeding a family, paying the bills, keeping a roof over one’s head, or for that matter coming home from Afghanistan with one or more missing limbs, now do they?

It all ties together, doesn’t it? It occurs to me that “Let ‘em die!” sounds like something you’d hear a bunch of drunken, brutish, self-centered frat boys chant at a hazing ritual gone bad.

I’m reminded how, when the Penn State pederasty scandal broke, there was NO sympathy or moral indignation on behalf of the victims expressed whatsoever by any PSU male students, who evidently feel that football games and tailgate parties are more important than institutional complicity in the sexual abuse of young boys, voicing only anger at Joe Paterno’s firing followed by destructive hooliganism in town.

It’s enough to make me want to see the voting age raised to 30.

A Bunch of Bull in Buffalo

For many years, I’ve been annoyed by an example of The Emperor’s New Clothes — something that seems totally absurd to me, and yet is either unnoticed by thousands of others or else not commented upon for fear of repercussions.

I’m speaking of the athletic department of the University of Buffalo (aka SUNY-Buffalo). Now, while the men’s sports teams of this institution are nicknamed, appropriately enough, the “Bulls,” the women’s sport teams are nicknamed, improbably enough, the “Lady Bulls.”

This is a wonderful example of how, in the Potemkin Village world of Academia, words and the concepts they represent become hopelessly mangled by politically-correct ideology.

I’ll walk readers through this slowly and carefully — not for the benefit of, say, farmers, butchers, truck drivers, short-order cooks and others familiar with livestock on a practical level — but rather the educated folks far removed from the realities of the natural world (including biology professors) who happily cheer on the “Lady Bulls,” to all appearances blissfully unaware of just how ludicrous this nickname really is.

* First, as any farm girl is well aware, bulls are male — period. Simply put, in zoological terms: male bovine = bull; female bovine = cow.

* Second, as is obvious to most anyone over the age of six or so (except, evidently, university-educated folk), a “Lady” is by definition a human being, and therefore cannot be a four-legged animal. It seems particularly ironic that academic feminists, otherwise so sensitive to linguistic objectification and debasement of women, would give this a pass.

Here, it’s difficult for an admittedly Old-School guy to refrain from invoking the Freudian theory of penis envy. But of course Freud has been sniffed away by modern academics as hopelessly misguided, versus the New Gods of Modern Psychoanalytic Theory such as the Jacques Brothers, Lacan and Derrida, who would never have dreamed of suggesting such a thing. Then again, I doubt if either of them ever checked out any female basketball players, either.

Just Plain Folks, however, certainly have, as witnessed by a Yahoo discussion thread pondering the question “Why are women’s basketball players [sic] … so masculine looking?” Or consider the predicament of one blogger, a former University of Texas basketball player. While attempting to debunk this prevailing perception, she was nonetheless forced to concede that “80% of the female ball players I know ARE Lesbian, masculine, and are not the most attractive girls . …”!

And finally, there’s the case of a George Washington University basketball player, who — in spite of not having any surgery or hormone treatments — simply decided that she was really a man, made a name change (from Kay-Kay to Kye), and then proceeded to go play for the men’s basketball team. And the school, as well as the NCAA, meekly went along with this travesty! All I can say is that it must have made for a very interesting situation when the team was dressing in the locker room before games — and taking their showers after.

But I digress . . .

To return, then,  to the matter at hand: of course I realize that UB’s womens teams could not possibly consider nicknaming themselves the “Cows” — an equally strained attempt to bookend the men’s teams that would be far more sneer-inducing. Naturally, other feminine animal names such as Does, Mares, Hens, and Ewes — to say nothing of Bitches — aren’t viable, either. All I’m suggesting is that they carry either a gender-neutral animal nickname (e.g. Tigers, Panthers … Cougars?), or else a feminine nickname that truly is, in fact, feminine (e.g. Falcons, Vixen … Cougars?)

To convey sheer ferocity, how about the She-Wolves? Or perhaps, to appeal to more refined sensibilities, the Chantelles? The possibilities are numerous, but in any case “Lady Bulls” ought to be put out to pasture.

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