I’ve found myself saying from time to time that the reason I don’t like Bush (personally) is that I knew his type growing up in Oklahoma: big-talking, do-nothing braggarts with powerful, boorish friends.
Now there is direct, video proof. (Link to Quicktime video.) Or as Wonkette notes:
Yeah, about that “one-fingered victory salute” video: It’s not the vulgarity that’s disappointing, it’s the way he’s so pleased with himself — and wants us to be pleased, too. Whatever. As party tricks go, it’s not burping the alphabet or anything. Anyhow: again, we reflect on how all the “scandalous” things we find out about Bush just make him seem like a fun guy. You know, he cracks up the crew, he does coke, he gets naked in bars, he pays for abortions. . .
You may have noticed that this site tends to refer to the Christian god almost exclusively as either “Baby Jesus” or “Baby Jeebus.” Why is this?
To remind Christians that their god shits himself. And the rest of us don’t like the smell.
UPDATE: New poll on front page sidebar.
Nice people are complete jackasses. There. I said it.
We all know passive-agressive folk who “kill with kindness,” but I’m not talking about them. We all know folk who have mastered the arts of social etiquette and use them for their own purposes (good and ill), but I’m not talking about them.
No, I’m talking about the person who can’t force themselves to stand up to someone with more power because it would be rude. I’m talking about the chair who can’t corral a disintigrating meeting because someone might not feel included or affirmed. You get this picture: propriety before goodness and rightness.
What could possibly be the source of all this nicey nice bullshit?
Nice is vice. Remember, every time you’re nice it’s another nail in the hand of Baby Jesus.
Just a quick brag about a student we “interned” this summer through the outfit I work with in meatspace. Read what Wiatta’s been up to. You’ll be impressed.
Let’s take a break from the election for a bit, shall we?
First story: Long, long ago, in the neck of space-time known as the Oklahoma Oil Bust, my family became charismatic Christians. We started going to “Monday night bible study,” basically a small house church about a mile from where we lived. It started with around a dozen or less but within a few months had grown to close to a hundred.
Each meeting would start with several renditions of praise choruses intended to sound like authentic Jewish music, if by “authentic Jewish music” you mean a half-remembered rendition of Fiddler on the Roof. After blowing the trumpet in Zion, the Bible study would begin, followed by the laying on of hands and the talking of tongues. (Try it yourself! Just yell quickly: “Who stole-uh my Honda? Come and tie my bow tie!”) Click to continue reading “The adventures of Purple Cowboy Hat Lady,
Or how I got dogged by my own mother”
The votes are in, and you’ve sorta kinda spoken. The winner of the poll to pick my ordination title is: None of the Above.
- Other (leave comment) 37%
- Guru 25%
- Prophet 12%
- Right Reverend 12%
- Shaman 12%
Any suggestions as to what “other” should be? I feel all adrift and akimbo.
