The Token Hippie

Beck's pulse never got above 85, not even when he ate her tongue. F-f-f-f-f!

2010-01-15T09:48:00.000-08:00

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Philandering Woods invited to become an honorary Christian

2010-01-05T11:12:00.000-08:00

Tiger Woods ponders Brit Hume's suggestion he convert while golfing on Tuesday.

NEW YORK - In a bold move to preserve Christianity as the favorite religion of high-profile adulterers, Fox News' own Brit Hume has invited golf great Tiger Woods to ditch Buddhism and join a religion where he'll feel more at home.

"Let's face it," Hume said off-camera following his on-air claim that Christianity was the only true path back to Woods' lost commercial endorsement. "Buddhists just don't get that much tail outside of marriage. Or if they do they lack the kind of bravery Christian cheaters exhibit by daring to get caught. Buddhists climb mountains for enlightenment. What kind of nonsense is that? The only 'hiking' a married Christian should do is hiking up the skirt of his mistress!"

"Tiger is our kind of guy," Hume said. "I mean, how many skanks did he hit behind his wife's back - Ten? Fifteen? Newt Gingrich is ready to build a monument to this fella! Talk about your Christian role models!"

Hume said other prominent cheating Christians like Mark Sanford, John Edwards and Jimmy Swaggart urged him to publicly reach out to Tiger Woods because they felt compassion for his plight.

"He has nothing to fall back on," said Hume, wiping a tear from the droopy skin fold beneath his eye.

"It's not like he can go into a Chinese restaurant and ask forgiveness of that statue on the counter - you know, the one with the belly you rub for luck before you leave. I mean, that pretty much sums up the Buddhist belief system right there, right? Right?"

The tearful public confession, Hume said, isn't as effective in other religions. Only Christian cheaters, he said, understand suffering - whether it's hanging on the cross with a crown of thorns shoved down on your head, or the more painful suffering of hearing the voice mails to your mistress played back on CNN.

"The public hears a Christian cheater confess and instantly they say, 'There's a man who is sorry he got caught.' Only then can the healing begin," said Hume.

"He needs the fellowship of Christians," Hume said of Woods. "He needs the brotherhood of men whose dream was ended by some loose-lipped whore who didn't have enough sense to block her ID before she called his cell."

Hume said he is surprised that Woods hasn't already converted on his own.

"If having a pissed Swedish woman coming at you with a golf club isn't a come-to-Jesus-moment then I don't know what is," he said.

Hume said having Tiger Woods as an Honorary Christian would not only help the golfer, but would help the image of Christianity as well.

"We've been concerned since the Muslims got a boost from that Kenyan Barak Obama," he said. "Having a high profile black guy come to our side is just what we need. So we pretty much see this whole scandal as a gift from God."

Hume concluded his comments by saying Fox News was only doing what it does best. Being fair and balanced.

Thanksgiving history play

2009-11-21T07:13:00.001-08:00

With Thanksgiving right around the corner it's always nice to be reminded of the reason for the season. This is just awesome.

Right-wing America's newest sweetheart refuses to discuss her most touching moment

2009-11-12T08:03:00.000-08:00

So Carrie Prejean, right-wing traditionalist and new Palin BFF was on Larry King Live last night promoting her new book when the senile CNN host suffered a senior moment and forgot the pre-determined interview conditions.

Using the same tone her mentor Palin used when she found McCain wandering around outside the Straight Talk Express in just his bathrobe and underwear, Prejean scolded Larry King, reminding him that they'd agreed beforehand that she would a.) not take phone calls and b.) would not discuss a certain tape of her getting all solo-sexual.

"You're being extremely inappropriate," Prejean said, speaking slowly and deliberately when an obviously befuddled Larry King tried to discuss the tape.

Poor Larry! To be called out by such a Paragon of Virtue right in prime time like that? I can only imagine his embarrassment.

I kept hoping that Larry King would redeem himself and do something Prejean would deem appropriate, like masturbating in front of the camera. Of course, he's so off his game these days he'd probably just make it worse by masturbating with his left hand instead of the morally acceptable right one.

Personally, I don't see why Prejean is so upset about this. The Bible says to "love your neighbor as you love yourself," right? And Carrie loves her neighbors - well, the straight ones anyway - so it only follows that she should love herself. And what better way to prove it than with a home movie?

Not since the 1973 classic The Exorcist has someone mixed masturbation and religion in such a twisted manner. She should be proud.

So to Carrie Prejean I only have this to say. "Please don't go away. Stay. You are everything I've come to expect from a right wing icon. You go, girl."

Walking with Wes: Our Health Care Story

2009-11-08T16:55:00.000-08:00

At the top of this post is an amazing picture. It may not look amazing; after all it's just a picture of me walking with my 22-year-old son, Wesley. But it is amazing. It's very amazing. And I'll tell you why.

Less than a month ago, Wesley was suffering so badly from degenerative disc disease that he could not walk more than a dozen steps without severe pain.

If that seems odd to you, it's only because it is. Severe spinal problems usually don't strike someone so young. But Wes somehow managed to draw the genetic short straw. Wes' father has the same condition, although his didn't really get severe until the last few years, when he reached his mid forties.

For Wes, the problems began when he was in high school. He complained of intermittent leg pain and the family doctor he went to always attributed the problem to muscle strain from athletics. It never occurred to him to check a kid presenting with leg soreness for a back problem.

So the pain continued off and on and then over a year ago, the problem got so bad that Wesley finally went to see an orthopedist who scheduled an MRI. The results were devastating. Two discs in Wesley's back were so extremely herniated that the doctor said his spine looked more appropriate to an elderly person than to a young man.

Subsequent doctors used words like "awful" and "horrible" to describe his condition.

But the doctors he saw were reluctant to schedule surgery. Back surgery is a serious matter, especially for one so young. The standard therapies were tried first. Wesley got painful steroid injections in his back. He got an inversion table. And then there was the pain medications - Vicodin. Percocet. Neurontin. They kept him in a daze and altered his mood.

When he tried to go out and do all the normal things other kids his age did he found that he simply couldn't. One night Wes and his sister, 25-year-old Jessica, went to a downtown club with some friends. Everyone was dancing and Wesley - for once - wanted to join in. Jessica told told me that when she missed her brother a few moments later she went looking and found him keeling by a wall near the restroom, crying.

He told her, "I just want to be a normal guy and do what everyone else does. But when I try to do what everyone else does, it hurts."

We hoped and prayed he'd be cleared for surgery. It seemed to be the only way he'd ever get relief. And finally, finally he was. Nothing was working - the therapies had all failed - and the doctor he was seeing at the time said that surgery was the only hope if Wesley were ever to have a normal life. What's more, we were told, Wesley's back was getting worse. If he didn't get the surgery, he was at risk of becoming permanently paralyzed by his condition.

But then came word from the insurance company. Wesley had a very basic policy through work with a very small cap that had already been exhausted by the tests and pain management he'd undergone. They would not pay for the surgery. Wes was devastated. We were frantic. Every physician approached wanted more money than his dad and I could come up with on our own, even together.

Do you know what it's like to stand by and watch your child suffer knowing that an operation could give him back what he's lost? Do you know what it's like to jump when the phone rings because you fear it's the hospital calling to say your son has been admitted, made dead from the waist down by what was a correctable condition?

I hope you never do.

In August, Wesley's father had back surgery. Ironic, huh? That's what we all thought, even him. Wesley needed it worse, but his dad was fortunate enough to have a better insurance policy through work. The surgery lasted a couple of hours and Wes' dad was home the same day. And the relief from his back pain was so immediate he became more determined than ever to see that his son got that surgery.

So when Wes' dad went back for his check-up a few weeks later, he told the doctor who'd fixed his 46-year-old back about his 22-year-old son's problem. The doctor listened and then asked if he could see Wes' MRI films. After taking a look at them, he called Wes' dad and told him something Truly Amazing.

The doctor said if we could come up with a thousand dollars and the pre-surgical consultation fee then he would do the surgery and set Wesley up on an affordable payment plan.

We couldn't believe it. Could it really be true? The figure was well within reach for us. We went for the consult and Wes was scheduled for a three hour surgery.

The surgery took place on October 15 and lasted four hours - four long, tension-filled hours. Afterwards when the doctor called us back, we knew right away that it had been tougher than any of us expected, even him. Wesley's discs had been so swollen and herniated that during the process of removing part of one and extricating it from the nerve it was pressing against, the nerve sheath had torn. Fortunately the damage was not permanent; when Wesley woke up he was able to move both of his legs.

Then the doctor told us something else. He said that once he opened Wes up, he realized that his back was worse than even he had imagined. He said because of the state of herniation, Wesley had been in danger of imminent, permanent paralysis.

Think about those words for a second. Think about them in the context of a 22-year-old man.

Imminent.

Permanent.

Paralysis.

I still get chills when I ponder those words, and not just because it's my kid we're talking about.

Wesley went back to his dad's that same afternoon. I'd have never thought it would be possible, but the doctor said he'd do better recuperating surrounded by family than in a hospital bed. The first night was rough. Wes suffered muscle spasms and little could be done to relieve the agony. Recovery was painful, but Wesley soldiered through with remarkable strength and resolve and each day brought improvement. Three days post-op he was walking. He went back to his apartment two weeks later. Tomorrow he goes for his first post-surgical visit. He's hoping the doctor will give him the all clear to go back to work.

Today he and I took a walk and he told me he's still getting used to getting his life back. For so long he's been looking in on a window of an existence he used to have, watching his friends continuing to do all the things he used to take for granted - dancing, hiking, surfing, walking through downtown. These things that seem so mundane to the rest of us now fill him with excitement. To see him hopeful and happy again....words fail me. I have none to describe how this makes my heart sing.

Every day that goes by, every time I see Wesley walk and laugh and tell me how happy he is to move without pain, how relieved he is to live without pain medication, I say a silent prayer of thanks for that wonderful doctor.

And then the sadness sets in. Because while we found a merciful doctor through what really amounted to a quirk of fate - through chance, really - there are hundreds and hundreds of families out there who aren't as fortunate.

My son, my 22-year-old son - a young man who is otherwise healthy and vital in every way, came dangerously close to being permanently paralyzed for life. He is walking again not because of this health care system, but in spite of it. It was the mercy of one good man - not this health care system - that has given him a new lease on life.

And in an world where profit and greed are the prevailing motivators, I don't have to tell you that Mercy is in short supply. We were among the lucky ones, but somewhere tonight parents are huddled together crying in fear over what tomorrow holds for their child. And there's no one coming to save them. For them, there is no Good Doctor. They are facing a different kind of mercy - the mercy of the insurance companies. In short, they are at the mercy of the merciless.

I watched the health care debate this weekend with interest. I was terribly disappointed that my congressman, Democrat Mike McIntyre, did not vote for the bill. After Wesley's surgery, I called his office and spoke to one of his aides, a young man named Ned. He seemed genuinely sympathetic.

I wish Ned was my congressman instead of Mike McIntyre.

Like so many other Blue Dogs, McIntyre's fear of the tea baggers has him tucking tail and rolling over in submission. Or perhaps he's hoping for a big campaign donation from the insurance lobby. Who knows. I suppose when you're a Congressman with excellent insurance benefits yourself the story of some 22-year-old man's brush with a lifelong disability isn't moving enough to get you to stick your political neck out.

Had we simply relied on the system Wesley would be in a wheelchair, a permanently disabled ward of the state. I'm not sure how that is cost effective; perhaps some of you worried about the "cost" of health reform can explain it to me.

It seems ironic to me that when Congressmen like Mike McIntyre - who cite costs as the "real" reason" they're opposed to reform - don't seem to stop and consider cost when sending our sons and daughters off to war. They seem all too willing to spend billions getting people crippled or killed; when it comes to war the motto seems to be "Spare No Expense." Yet they are strangely reluctant to spend billions to prevent disabilities or save lives here at home.

Maybe that's because for those congressmen it's easier to see people who need health care reform as faceless statistics. But we aren't faceless, Mr. McIntyre. Behind every statistic is a family. A family with a story. And this is ours.

Happy Halloween

2009-10-30T08:36:00.001-07:00

Not much to write today, as we are in full Halloween Revelry Mode. For me and my kind, Halloween is the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.

I'm in a happy mood today, with tomorrow being the big day. I already have my costume. I'm a witch. Again.

The dress and boots are the same ones I wore last year. This year I've accessorized with a new hat, some totally awesome stockings and a new familiar, Pookah.

Our Halloween display. The mums are past their prime, tho. Pity.

Pookah and I prepare to work our Halloween magic.

Those of you may remember that I found Pookah last year in the ditch outside my house just four days before I lost my beloved 15-year-old cat Jingles. Now, after taking a year to warm up to me - for cats respect the Official Mourning Period - Pookah is my best buddy.

Halloween is also a great time for humor. This morning I received some of the best Halloween cartoons I've gotten in many months. Enjoy!

This morning my sister sent me this. I love it:

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

Rapture Denied: Christian Edition of "Going Rogue" won't happen

2009-10-07T07:49:00.000-07:00

Supporters of Sarah Palin react outside of the God's Own Baptist Church on Wednesday after learning that Zondervan will not release a Christian edition of Going Rogue after all.

Rev. Doug Pious hugs a member of the Youth Army For God on Wednesday after the child broke down upon learning that Sarah Palin would not be releasing a Christian edition of her memoir.

To my dedicated fundamentalist Christian readers - all two of you - I have disappointing news. That Christian edition of Sarah Palin's Going Rogue you've been waiting for, it ain't gonna happen.

Not since God killed Job's family and sent that faithful servant to sit in the wilderness covered in boils (all to satisfy a bet with the devil) have The Righteous been left asking, "Why, God? Why?"

After all, it would been a holy and joyful experience to see all of Sarah's quotes conveniently highlighted in red and cross-referenced with correlating scriptural text. Verily!

So why the change? Here's the official line:

In an E-mail message today, Campbell said she misspoke. "Zondervan never planned on publishing a separate Christian edition of Going Rogue with supplemental material," she said. "From what I understand, it was misreporting."

That's right. Blame the media. Hey, if it's good enough for Sarah it's good enough for a Christian publishing house.

My take on this is different. I'm thinking the Christian edition may have been scuttled for one of these three reasons:

1. Sarah's narrow appeal. Realizing that the market for the original version of Going Rogue will essentially be the same market as for the Christian version, Zondervan finally admits that given the tight economy, even brain-dead Bible-beaters might be unwilling to buy the same lies twice.

2. The real truth, when it comes out, may damage her with the True Christian™
readers. Publishers have a lot of people on the inside. They may realize that forthcoming revelations about Sarahs' true character - or lack thereof - may alienate so many of Sarah's True Christian™ followers that they'll abandon her and her book.

3. Sarah has outed herself in Going Rogue. This is a slim possibility but one that bears considering. Sarah can't really believe her lies will hold and may have decided to go ahead and spill the beans herself in Going Rogue with the chapters "OK, you got me. I'm Illiterate," and "Guess who faked a pregnancy? Me." If she did this, then the effect on her True Christian™ base (except the most hardcore among them) will be the same as in Number 2.

As Gryphen over at Immoral Minority has pointed out, the conservative book-buying machine has already made sure that Sarah has gotten hers. Thanks to their mass purchasing scam, the woman who can't admit to having read anything is now a best selling author laughing all the way to the bank as her saintly followers wallow in grief.

But since when has the disappointment of supporters ever really mattered to her? (Right, Alaska?) There's shopping to be done, and those fuck-me-pumps aren't going to buy themselves.

"Sarah, O, Sarah? Why have you forsaken us?" the True Christian™ supporters cry.

To which Sarah responds. "Because it was all about me in the first place. Duh."

Sarah Palin, author

2009-10-04T16:25:00.000-07:00

Seriously people, cut Sarah Palin a break already. All week long I've been reading blogs from people taking potshots at her upcoming book, Going Rogue.

So what if it's full of lies and misspellings and reads like a third-grader's Mad Lib? So what if her ghostwriter is as bat-shit crazy as she is? Those in the literary know understand that Going Rogue isn't even the book that's going to make the big splash for Sarah anyway. She only wrote it because people expected her to write something politicalish. Duh...

No, it's the book she started working on before she wrote Going Rogue - the one that is going to come out on Mother's Day - that's going to finally reveal Sarah Palin as a true expert in something.

Because while Sarah Palin may not know where Russia is or which countries are in NAFTA (who does, right?) she sure as hell knows how to poorly fake a pregnancy. And after reading Your Poorly-Faked Pregnancy, Week-By-Week so will you.

With such informative chapters as "Pillows vs. Empathy Bellies," "Dragging Your kids Into Your Charade," "Paying Off People Who Know With Proceeds From Your First Book," and "Delusional Thinking Is Your Friend," you, too can convince almost anyone (except a few pesky bloggers) that you were actually pregnant.

Bonus chapters in the special "Trig Edition" include where to get a baby at the end of your faked pregnancy. Be sure to read "These Damn Kids Never Listen" and "Fundamentalist Friendly Adoption Scams" for more information.

And be sure to pick up the Christian Edition of Your Poorly-Faked Pregnancy, Week-by-Week with the extra bonus chapter, "Immaculate Conception: Producing a Baby Even Though Todd Hasn't Touched You In Two Years."

So laugh all you want, Sarah haters. You're just mad because you didn't think of it first.

Group booking Palin's comedy act gets its money's worth

2009-09-23T06:28:00.000-07:00

"It's just common sense that government attempts to solve problems like the health care problem will just create new problems." -- Sarah Palin to the CLSA Investors

It's over. Earlier today GOP spokesmodel Sarah Palin delivered her 90-minute speech at the CLSA Investors Forum. And despite attempts to keep her address the most secrety secret in all of Secretdom, it seems that some of what she said has leaked out.

And yes, it's pretty much what we expected. Reports had suggested that the invitation was a joke on Sarah by a group looking for more laughs than substance.

Apparently that's just what she delivered. As a bonus, she lectured the crowd on the perspective of Main Street, America. Her America, that is, where a politician with presidential ambitions can hide from a media that might press her for answers the public wants while auctioning herself off as a prize to whichever loyal fan can afford to buy her for a few hours.

If the audience understood anything about irony, then I'm thinking her act killed like an Obama Death Panel.

Office Pet

2009-09-15T12:51:00.001-07:00

I'm pretty picky about which pets I allow in my office. Voldemort is just perfect. He doesn't shed, doesn't make noise .....

...is a fantastic proofreader...

....and goes quite nicely with the decor. Are you digging the whole Snake and Apple symbolism? I am. Only naughty girls use Macs. ;-)

I prefer Voldemort to the things we find crawling in our yard this time of year. Check out this six-foot rattlesnake. It's the third one we've come across. My husband catches them live by hand. We don't like to kill them. They make nice, unexpected gifts....

Sarah bows to fear of intergalactic embarrassment

2009-09-14T10:07:00.000-07:00

Fear of Capt. Kirk and lack of qualified ventriloquists have caused Palin to close her upcoming Sept. 23 speech to the media.

Who says Sarah Palin isn't compassionate? In a move sure to relieve educators everywhere, she's decided to deny the media access to her next scheduled butchering of the English language.

The former governor, who used winking and red fuck-me-pumps to flirt with the notion of becoming vice-president last year, is slated to speak before a group of foreign investors on September 23. That gives her just nine more days to realize that the invitation is just a big joke on her.

Don't hold your breath, though. The woman who gave us this and this is unlikely to admit she's being pranked until after it's actually happened.

In fact, it took William Shatner reading her Tweets as beat poetry to finally clue her in.

I can just see her standing there in her living room, shaking Todd awake from where he was ignoring her in his recliner and screeching, "Look, Todd! Captain Kirk is on television and he likes me so much he's reading my Tweets on the air!"

To which Todd would reply, "He doesn't like you, he's making fun of you. I told you to stop Twittering! Wasn't it enough when you were an international embarrassment? Now the whole flippin' universe is laughing at us. Nice job. Oh, and while we're actually talking, we're out of Twinkies and now the kids have nothing for breakfast tomorrow morning."

That's when Sarah decided to stop Twittering and hire a ghostwriter to do her Facebook and Wall Street Journal pieces.

But this speech represents a whole new set of problems. It's a lot easier for Sarah Palin to hire a ghostwriter who makes her look like an intelligent writer than a ventriloquist who can make her sound like an intelligent speaker - even to a foreign audience. So to minimize her embarrassment to the world and galaxies beyond, she's making sure no one aside from the audience hears what she has to say. The last thing she needs is for Mr. Spock to show up on Letterman and recite her trade policy ideas. Even he couldn't keep a straight face for that.

But maybe it's for the best. Another Palin speech would have provided too much of a distraction, and I would have had to interrupt my day job of writing lewd and tawdry prose to decipher whatever it was she thought she was trying to say.

Of course, as I pointed out in my last post this may still be a moot point anyway. Sarah may not even show up for the speech and offer up some excuse instead, like Willow accidentally accepted for her or she got the date wrong. Or she could say she can't travel because she just found out she's pregnant with her fifth child.

Yeah, like we believed that story the first time....

Just thought I'd share...

2009-09-13T14:16:00.000-07:00

Click for a larger image. You won't be disappointed. I promise.

And if you were all closer I'd happily send you home with cuttings. Passion flowers are beautiful but the vines grow everywhere.

Hope your weekend has been as colorful as mine. :-)

These goats are going to get us kicked out of the neighborhood. I just know it.

2009-09-09T08:09:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know today's post represents a departure from my usual offering of political snark. But sometimes I like to talk about something other than Sarah Palin and the crazy right wing of the GOP. Like all these goats having sex in my front yard.

Those of you new to my blog may - or may not - be surprised to learn that I keep a herd of dairy goats. There are eleven, including five does that are currently still milked by hand twice a day. The milk is used for drinking and for making farmstead cheeses, ice cream, fudge and soap.

But in order for our does to give milk they must first have baby goats. And you don't have babies without sex. So each year we borrow a couple of male goats - or bucks - from a goat dairy over in the next county.

And this is the part where things go from pastoral to pornographic.

Over the winter I read a wonderful book called Goat Song by author Brad Kessler. I highly recommend this book, not just because Kessler's writing is so lyrically beautiful, but also because he does a wonderful job detailing life with goats, and how their cycles tie in with the natural ebb and flow of the seasons. Kessler also delves into the rich history of goats, which were the first domestic hoof stock kept by our nomadic ancestors.

But what Kessler doesn't tell you is something I strongly suspect, which is that every sexual perversion known to man was originally inspired by watching goat have sex. It's no wonder that the hedonistic satyr was fashioned after a goat. The animals simply have no modesty. Or shame. Or brakes. And that's made for some pretty interesting happenings here on our tiny farm.

It started this weekend, when we went to pick up the two bucks - a Nubian named Mojo and an Alpine named Legacy. We borrowed Legacy last year when he was just a yearling. He lost his innocence to our does. This year when we went back, I didn't even recognize him. He's the size of a small Shetland pony now.

"This is Bernard?" I asked Lisa, referring to Legacy by the nickname we'd given him last year. I could not comprehend that this wild-eyed beast, unbearably pungent with the smell of his own urine, was the same animal.

"Yep," she said. "And he's not even finished growing. And boy, is he ever ready to breed! He's so fixated on the does that he's hardly even eating."

As if to prove his owner's point, Legacy lowered his head, pissed all over his face and curled up his lip.

"Charming," I said.

"Your girls should think so," Lisa replied.

We led Legacy to the trailer as Mojo, nearly as big and just as smelly, followed. Despite his name, Mojo hadn't seen any action yet. Like Legacy, his first sexual experience would be with our older and somewhat worldly does. Legacy seemed to know just where he was headed. He practically jumped into the trailer.

At home we put the bucks in the pen separate from the does. The only other goat in the buck pen was Toby, the neutered male goat we'd acquired as a pet two years ago. Toby was our first goat. He was bottle-raised and grew up thinking he was a dog or maybe a person. Since he's also a male, I thought it would be OK to keep them together. After all, what could go wrong?

As it turns out, a lot.

As soon as we brought Legacy and Mojo in, the does lined up on the other side of the fence panting like a group of fourteen year-old girls at a Jonas Brother's concert. Two of them turned their backsides to the fence and frantically wagged their tails, as if trying to waft their girlie-scent in the bucks' direction. It was a tawdry display. And I know tawdry. Had they been wearing panties, the does would have tossed them over the fence.

It was all too much for the boys to take. Unable to get to the does, they went for the next best thing - their unsuspecting pasture mate. I immediately rushed in to save poor Toby, who was pinned against the gate by a 175-pound, pheromone-crazed Legacy. As soon as I pulled him away Mojo jumped him. It took all my strength to get Toby out of the pen and into the doe barn on the other side, where he huddled for two days until he got over the drama of his gate-rape.

Breeding season for goats starts in late August and runs through December. Does come in heat every three weeks. Their cycles last for three days, providing a short window to get them bred. Because we have both Alpines and Nubians and want to control who is bred and when, we watch for the signs before putting them in with the bucks.

The does bleat, wag their tails and hang by the fence. The bucks respond by stamping, sneezing, snorting, pissing on their own faces and putting their penises in their own mouths (seriously) should they be endowed with penises big enough to reach.

Today two of our does started showing signs of readiness. Star and Nellie - both slated to be bred to Legacy - stood by the fence making come-hither noises and wagging their tails.

I took Nellie over first. Or, should I say, she took me. I tied Mojo to the side of the shed so Nellie and Legacy could get some sex on, but as it turned out while Nellie was in heat it was just the early stages and not the "standing heat" so called because that is when a doe will stand to be mounted.

Meanwhile, Star was screaming as if she were in physical pain, so I brought her over too. Legacy rushed over, stamping and sneezing. Star turned and looked at him. I think she winked. She squatted and pissed. He stuck his face in the stream and curled his lip up. Legacy was in Pheromone Heaven. This was a doe clearly in standing heat.

Legacy began to clack his teeth and lick Star all over, up and down her back, under her tail. Every now and then he'd rush up and look at her face as if to say, "Yeah, you like that, don't you, baby?"

And since Star is a girl who just can't say no - despite giving birth to triplets earlier this year - she let Legacy have his way with her. Multiple times.

Poor Mojo, tethered to the corner of the goat barn could only watch since none of "his" ladies have yet to come into heat. After a few moments our pet pig, Piggie, walked over and Mojo leaned down as if to say, "Look...you're single. I'm single. We're both here alone. So, what do you say..?"

Fortunately, Piggie is smarter than Toby and knew enough to get out of the way before she got jumped or pissed on. Nobody messes with Piggie, so we don't have to worry about coming out one morning to find a litter of mutant pig-goats or what other sort of abomination would come from such an unlikely coupling.

What we will have will be baby goats due sometime in February. First time moms will have singles; our older does will have twins or triplets. The babies are taken away at birth and bottle raised on their mother's milk.

Once the goats are old enough, we find other families looking to start their own dairy goat herds. Bucks, unless exceptionally nice, are neutered and sold as pets. Sometimes we keep one or two little ones back. We still a young doe and a buck born to Star earlier this year. You can see the birth in this video, which also documents the kids' first days of life.

With the growing interest in organic food and the grocery prices being what they are, dairy goats are more popular than you might think. They're certainly more entertaining, if you don't mind the work or having your yard turned into the 24 Hour Barnyard Sex Channel for a couple of months. I see it as our little gift to the community. It gives our neighbors something else to talk about. Provided, of course, they don't kick us out for indecency.

Indoctrinator-in-Chief?

2009-09-08T09:28:00.001-07:00

Among socialist values Obama pushed were hard work and hand-washing

So today is the first day back at lessons for my two youngest kids, both homeschoolers. And since many of their publicly schooled counterparts across the nation got to watch President Obama's back-to-school speech I made sure they did, too.

My husband and I encouraged our kids to watch the speech not just because we support our president but also because the act of watching is a testament to our faith in our parenting abilities. We didn't think Obama would say anything we disagreed with. But we are secure enough in our kids' intelligence - and their respect for us - to realize that even if he did that it would be OK. Had he said something we disagreed with, we would have discussed it with the kids. A speech isn't going to influence them any more than we can.

I feel sorry for kids of parents who are less secure in their own abilities, and for kids whose parents are so paranoid that they think the words of a politician - any politician - are going to instantaneously poison whatever values they've formed in their children so far. Do those parents really doubt their own influence to that extent? Do they think the kids they've raised are that morally and intellectually weak?

Apparently so. Some of those parents kept their kids home from school today, collectively raising the average IQ score of their schools by many points.

I made the mistake of turning on a local talk radio station last week. In the five minutes I listened I heard two callers express fear - yes, fear - over this speech. Obama, they said, was going to use this address as a way to advance a cult of personality. You could tell by the way they said this that they had no earthly idea what they were talking about and were just repeating something they'd heard on FOX. In fact, when the host asked one man what he meant by "cult of personality" the man stammered a bit before saying, "You know...like one of them...Jonestowns...You know. A cult."

The callers said Obama was going to try and infect children with socialism. I kept picturing not a speech, but a sneeze spreading commie germs. It sounded pretty dire. So naturally I was keen to pick out the socialist messages today while listening today.

I looked for it when Obama said this:

But at the end of the day, we can have the most dedicated teachers, the most supportive parents, and the best schools in the world - and none of it will matter unless all of you fulfill your responsibilities. Unless you show up to those schools; pay attention to those teachers; listen to your parents, grandparents and other adults; and put in the hard work it takes to succeed.

Hmmm. That sounded a lot like that a promotion of individualism. Probably just a slip. And then there was this:

When I was young, my family lived in Indonesia for a few years and my mother didn't have the money to send me to where all the American kids went to school. So she decided to teach me extra lessons herself, Monday through Friday - at 4:30 in the morning.

That sounds suspiciously like appreciation for homeschooling, something a few paranoid right wing home schoolers I know say Obama opposes. Again, that was probably just a mistake. Let's move on.

Where you are right now doesn't have to determine where you'll end up. No one's written your destiny for you. Here in America, you write your own destiny. You make your own future.

Patriotism? How did that get in there? Now let's see what he has to say on that socialist value of Perseverance in the Face of Adversity, shall we comrade?

J.K. Rowling's first Harry Potter book was rejected twelve times before it was finally published. Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team, and he lost hundreds of games and missed thousands of shots during his career. But he once said, "I have failed over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed."

These people succeeded because they understand that you can't let your failures define you - you have to let them teach you. You have to let them show you what to do differently next time.

Aha! Harry Potter reference. He's promoting witchcraft! Still no socialism, though. Damn, those hidden messages are hard to find. Maybe if I replay the speech backwards I'll finally hear that communist propaganda everyone was so worried about.

Poor Obama. You can tell he tries really hard to get his point across, but I were to grade him on turning my kids into little pinko socialists, he'd get a big fat F. For FAIL. By his own standards, that means he'll just to try harder.

Of course, I could be wrong. The message may just be so insidious and understated that it flew under my adult radar. So I'll be on the lookout for the subtle signs of Obama's socialist influence on my kids, just in case. If I catch them pretending to be doctors who treat patients regardless of their ability to pay, then I'll know exactly who to blame. Oh yes, I will...

An Open Letter to Levi Johnston's Handlers

2009-09-03T08:45:00.000-07:00

Dear Sirs:

Would you mind if I ask you a simple question?

What are you thinking?

Please don’t think I’m trying to be rude or disrespectful. I sincerely believe that you have nothing but Levi Johnston’s interest at heart. I’m sure he’s enjoyed the limelight at appearances like the Teen Choice Awards. I’m sure he’s flattered by the attention of stars like Kathy Griffin and interviewers who get him to joke about having sex with cougars or posing in the nude. Great fun for a young man who’s never been out of small town Alaska. Great fun.

But I think what Levi – and maybe you – aren’t seeing is that the public is no longer laughing with him. They’re laughing at him.

This worries me. It worries me a great deal. That boy’s been through a lot with the Palins. He doesn’t have to write a book for most people to realize that. But he should write a book. He needs to write a book. And he needs to do it before he even thinks about movie roles and modeling.

Why? Because right now information is the most marketable thing your boy Levi has. It’s his biggest commodity. But his recent and somewhat reckless appearances are wearing thin on people who might otherwise be sympathetic to his story. He's losing credibility at a time when he needs it the most.

Listen, Sarah Palin is no friend to Hollywood. She’s targeted and bashed all of Hollywood as elitists. She and her kind are a threat to free speech and creativity. They’re a threat to everything Hollywood stands for. And Hollywood knows it.

Don’t you understand that anyone who tells the story that brings this woman down is going to be seen as a conquering hero in Hollywood? If Levi Johnston spills the truth – the whole truth – Sarah’s career will be destroyed. And the right wing punditry and politicos who supported her will be humiliated by association. Once that happens Levi will all but have the key to the city. At the moment, the best you’re offering him is a future spot in I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here. Next stop after that: Obscurity.

What do you think Levi would rather be - best selling author turned actor? Or another Kato Kaelin?

Gentlemen, it’s the story that is the key to Levi’s success, both in the court of public opinion and in Hollywood. So on behalf of all of us who seek and want the truth: Stop the leaks. Cut off the juvenile interviews. Put a pen in that boy's hand (or a ghostwriter's hand) and encourage him to do the book. It’s his best, greatest shot at success.

You know what he's been through. You know he deserves it. See that he gets it. Please. You'll not just be doing him a favor, you'll be doing the whole country a favor at the same time.

Sincerely,

Morgan, pajama-clad blogger and very, very concerned United States citizen

Breaking it down

2009-09-02T06:25:00.000-07:00

This is a great, simplified explanation to share with those who oppose health care reform, particularly the much-maligned public option.

And because it's polite to give credit where credit is due, I found this first on both Mudflats and Immoral Minority.

Palin's Next Speaking Engagement is a Joke. No, really. It's a joke

2009-09-01T04:56:00.000-07:00

So yesterday the news services and blogs were all abuzz about Sarah Palin's next speaking engagement in Asia. There was a lot of collective head-scratching as to why Asian investment group CLSA would invite someone with virtually no foreign policy experience to speak before a group of international investors in Hong Kong.

I wondered, too. And the best I come up with was that she'd have something in common with the natives. English is their second language. English is her second language.

Then today comes a report that takes the mystery out of the invitation. It's a joke.

According to Business Insider Daily, the Asian investment firm CLSA which booked Palin has a reputation for bringing a touch of humor to their investor meetings.

In the past, they've polled Asian fortunte tellers for index targets, hired anime cartoonists to draw Japanese research and generally love to push the boundaries between entertainment and analysis. They are a real research firm, it's just that they love to sprinkle in some hilarity every now and then as a smart marketing gimmick.

Sarah Palin, the report says, "is this year's big laugh for them."

Now the big question is will she even know she's being pranked. Sarah's a little slow on the uptake. During the 2008 campaign a couple of Canadian DJ's calling themselves "The Masked Avengers" strung her along for nearly five minutes by making her think she was talking to French President Nicolas Sarkozy. Sarah remained oblivious during the chat, even when "Sarkozy" asked if she'd take him hunting by helicopter and referenced a porn movie - Nailin Palin - that featured her likeness.

It took the DJ's telling Sarah she'd been pranked before she figured it out. The woman is a laugh riot without even trying. Now that she knows she's expected to be funny in Asia, does that mean she'll actually try? Or will the former-VP candidate-turned-international-joke do as she has always done at home and deliver the laughs just by opening her mouth?

Or maybe she won't go at all, as has been her trend. This time at least, she'll have an excuse.

Come again?

2009-08-21T06:00:00.000-07:00

That’s what she said. Republican Sentator John Ensign’s former mistress, that is.

And that’s what I said earlier this week – with an entirely different meaning – when I heard him take a morally superior stance on his adultery by favorably comparing himself to Bill Clinton.

Ensign, backed by a chorus of angels only he could see, explained the difference between wholesome, family values adultery and the nasty Democratic variety.

“President Clinton stood right before the American people and he lied to the American people,” Ensign told the Associated Press.

Let me digress here and state I’m not making apologies for Bill Clinton. The man is a horn dog who, for all his lofty talk, sees women as objects. Specifically humidors. When he “rescued” those two hot journalists from North Korea I was among those hoping they had a Bill-proof cabin for the trip home. I could see him leaning against the door as he tried to lure them out with that self-assured Arkansas drawl.

“Hey girls. I just saved both of you from a labor camp. Now come on out and show Daddy some love….”

But Clinton might not have that image with me or anyone else if he’d just taken the GOP path of Righteousness Adultery. As a married lawmaker, when you decide to fuck someone besides your wife the first thing you ask yourself is “What Would Jesus Do?”

Well, first of all you render unto the mistress whatever it takes to keep her pretty mouth shut. In Ensign's case that may have been $25,000 in severance pay followed by another $96,000 from (cough, cough) Mom and Dad. Oh, and if you pick a mistress who is also married, at least try to find one whose husband who won't be a poor sport about it.

Duh.

Or you could just claim that the affair wasn’t really an affair, but a bonding of spirits that transcends partisan and even cultural boundaries. That’s what Republican South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford did. He knew none of us on lower spiritual planes would understand, which is why he claimed to be hiking up the steamy Appalachian trail when he was really hiking up some a steamy Argentinean’s skirt.

But this wasn’t just some piece of ass, he argued. This was his soul mate. It was love. And God is Love, right? So Sandford’s sex was like a throbbing, pulsating expression of his Christianity....or something like that. And he likely tried to explain that to his boring wife, but like the rest of America she just too stupid to understand. Which is exactly why we women need good conservative men to guide us through life, because only a conservative can explain why things happen the way they do.

But it’s not always women who get the Holy Order of the GOP in trouble. Sometimes it’s men, like in the case of former GOP Senator Larry Craig. Upon detecting a come hither stance from a guy in the next bathroom stall, Craig took one look at the alluring wingtip shoe and thought, “Yeah, I’d tap that…”

Later after pleading guilty to disorderly conduct he did a reach around..I mean, a turnaround, and said it never happened.

Because lying, like adultery is OK as long as it doesn't violate state or federal law. And because it’s not really sinning unless you’re a Clinton.

And Larry Craig knows exactly what he'd like to do to Bill Clinton, given this 1999 interview. It would seem he'd like to...No, I'm not going to say it. I'm not. I'm just going to let Larry Craig speak for himself. Because sometimes only the righteous can do it best...

My gifts to Sarah

2009-08-19T08:06:00.000-07:00

Of all the Sarah Palin news continuing to leak out even after we thought we’d gotten rid of her something finally emerged today that I’d actually been waiting for.

After a protracted delay, Sarah has gotten around to disclosing the gifts she received in 2008 from well-wishers. The report was due in March but is just being released now, a full five months later. But who's counting, right?

Besides, she had a good excuse. Apparently her garage was so chock-full of goodies there was hardly room for the special edition Arctic Cat "Welcome Home Jesus" snow machine Todd had custom made for the Second Coming. (Sure those things aren't cheap, but I hear that Todd gets a great company discount.)

The gifts are pretty much what you’d expect. Tacky stuff from tacky people. A giant glass elephant, a gun case engraved with Sarah’s name, a bunch of cross-stitched crap for her house because when you use firearms and antlers as decorating accents you need something soft to balance it. A Bible bound in the skin of un-baptized Democrats..no wait. That’s goatskin. Either way you have to admit that's kind of creepy.

She even got some books (otherwise known to Sarah as “kindlin’), a few flags presumably to wrap herself in…oh, and get this: some moron actually sent her a statue of the Virgin Mary. Pffft. Like Pentecostal Sarah is going to keep that pagan thing.

I’m sure included in there was at least one pair of fuck-me-pumps sent to her by some creepy, married Republican deacon who spent many an hour afterwards fantasizing that she’d show up at his door wearing nothing but his gift and a trench coat. Hope springs eternal. So hang on, pervs. You may yet get your shot if those Palin divorce rumors are true.

Why was I so interested in this news? Because I’d sent her a few things, too. And damn it, not one of them was listed. Not that I'm hurt. OK. I lied. I am.

But fine. I’ll just list them myself. Now don't laugh. I didn't have much to spend. I have kids to support. And goats, which, by the way will never be skinned to make a Bible for some lying politician to thump.

And now I give you my personal list of the Love Offerings I Sent To Sarah:

1. Hooked On Phonics

I got her the starter set because I didn't want to scare her.

2. Jesus Action Figures

I thought these would look good on the mantel. I could just imagine the glass eyes of a once noble moose staring down in amusement at these super cool Jesus dolls. Forever. I liked them so much I got a second set for myself.

3. The Bibleman Video Game

OK. I got this one for the kids. Especially for Bristol and Levi. I'd hoped it would give them something to do so Bristol wouldn't get pregnant again. I failed. I'm sorry, Sarah.

4. A personalized 8 x 10" print of a special family moment

This one was my favorite. I even put a cute caption on it for her.

I'm thinking Sarah liked this one best. The only reason I didn't get a thank-you note was because she was just too choked up.

No more Novak

2009-08-18T10:42:00.000-07:00

R.I.P.

(Republican Identifying Plame)

Good riddance to bad rubbish.

I was on another progressive blog earlier and was surprised to find that some people were struggling to find nice things to say about Robert Novak in the wake of his death.

As I commented there, I've always found it rather ironic that while disdaining someone in life we often feel compelled to say nice things about them when they die. This has always struck me as hypocritical. It would seem to me that the time to be charitable is when someone is around to appreciate it.

I had nothing nice to say about Robert Novak when he was alive. I have nothing nice to say about him now. After what he did to Valerie Plame, the closest I can come to a charitable observation is that I think it's really sad that he sold his soul to Karl Rove before he could give it to God.

The view from Crazy

2009-08-13T06:20:00.000-07:00

Do crazy people know they're crazy? Probably not. And if they're in the company of other crazy people egging them on they may even feel they're not crazy. Or that it's OK because Crazy is the new Normal.

It was bad enough when I couldn't watch the news without seeing crazy from the right wing. But when people I like and respect start spewing the same paranoid fears about the insurance reform on Facebook then I'm beginning to wonder if there's something in the water.

A couple of weeks ago, Sarah Palin claimed Obama's health care plan would include "death panels" that would give a thumbs up or thumbs down on her Downs Syndrome son's (wink, wink) right to exist. She and other right wing crazies claim that a national health care plan is socialized medical care (Medicaid) and would lead to rationing (common insurance company practice now).

Right wingers don't want the US of A to end up like Canada or Great Britain where handicapped people are regularly put to ....death...right?

OK. Hold on. Someone would like to step up to disagree with Sarah Palin. Look, it's renowned international physicist Professor Stephen Hawking!

Professor Stephen Hawking has defended the NHS after its severe criticism during the American political debate over health care reforms.

The physicist spoke up for the NHS after the Republican Right claimed it was 'evil' and 'Orwellian' in a direct attack on Barack Obama's plans to overhaul health care in the U.S.

Critics of the president have said his plans would introduce a 'socialist' system like Britain's.

Prof Hawkin, who suffers from Lou Gehrig's disease, said: 'I wouldn't be here today if it were not for the NHS.

'I have received a large amount of high quality treatment without which I would not have survived.'

So who are you going to believe. This genius? Or this complete moron?

Of course, the people flooding these town meetings with guns and pleas not to kill grandma can't be reasoned with or influenced by superior intellect. They're like this Crazy Sprinkler Lady who wonders with growing paranoia how those rainbow colors got in her sprinkler spray.

I kind of feel like I'm dealing with Crazy Sprinkler Lady every time I get an email from a Sarah Palin fan. As many of you know, I've been a vocal critic of McCain's Vagina since she was trotted out as a potential VP candidate in 2008.

To her fans, the idea that I or any other woman would think Palin unworthy of leadership has nothing to do with an issue of qualifications. No, they say. The real reason we hate her is because - are you ready? We're fat.

But we're not just fat. We're also menopausal, sexually unsatisfied, ugly, secretly in love with Todd Palin and jealous because he's with Sarah, dealing with the guilt of our multiple abortions, possibly lesbians (although I'm not sure why a lesbian would have a crush on Todd) and intimidated by Sarah.

Did I leave anything out? Oh wait, I did! We also hate Jesus. Especially Baby Jesus. We want to kill Baby Jesus. If Baby Jesus had Downs Syndrome, we'd want to kill him twice.

I guess they say all of this stuff because they can't think of anything else to say. I actually had one right wing blogger respond to my criticism of Sarah on another blog by stating, "I bet Morgan is fat and ugly." When he came to my blog and discovered I was neither, he came back and announced, "Well, her teeth are really big."

I guess with that kind of intellect you take what you can get.

I can't reach the crazies. But if one person on the edge of plunging into Lake Loony reads this and is inspired to do some actual research on health care reform I will feel that my work, for this day at least, has been done.

UPDATE:

This is the kind of person we're dealing with. This woman doesn't feel qualified to handle the finances of her own household and yet she feels qualified to criticize health care reform? If you ask me, the host of Hardball handled her in a very gentlemanly manner given that he could have excoriated her for such astounding ignorance.

Wedding...

2009-07-19T14:12:00.000-07:00

From giggly and happy at the rehearsal dinner...

...to completely emotional on her wedding day.

It's a wonderful thing to see your child reach adulthood. It is even better to see them reach a place in their adulthood where they are safe, loved and cherished.

Yesterday I watched my daughter reach that place when she married her best friend. Since meeting five years ago, Jessica and Brandon have been inseparable. They are well-suited on every level. Jessica adores Brandon, and he adores her.

Here's one of my favorite shots from yesterday. It was taken by my neighbor who noticed during the prayer that Brandon - although a devout Christian - could not bring himself to close his eyes since it would mean he'd have to stop looking at his bride.

Here are some other shots from the day, which was more wonderful and magical than I ever could have imagined. It's left me with this lingering sentimentality that has me feeling a bit weepy at times. It's so unlike me. I don't think I was adequately prepared for the level of happiness I'd feel upon seeing my daughter joined to a man I know will love her forever.

Larry, Lucas and Alex before the wedding

Jessica with her bridesmaids. She was so nervous.

Another of me and Jessica. I managed not to cry in this one.

Lucas and Alex. He was ring bearer and she the junior bridesmaid for their big sister's wedding.

The kiss.

Newlyweds...

Outside after the wedding.

Preparing to enter the limo that would take them to the reception.
An overhead shot of Jessica entering the reception hall.

First dance. Larry was a rock. I cried like a baby.

Wedding day preview

2009-07-16T15:11:00.001-07:00

Of course I can't show a picture of my lovely eldest daughter in her wedding dress. Not yet, anyway. But I can share this picture of my youngest son, 7-year-old Lucas in his tux. He's going to be the ring bearer! I didn't mean to show up in the mirror, but I did. I'm the one in the hat with the Blackberry. If I'm beaming like a proud mum it's because I am.

Doesn't my little man look adorable? Click on the picture for a better view. He's so worth it.

Happy Thursday!

2009-07-16T06:24:00.000-07:00

I have no time to write anything substantial today, as I'm about to get a shiny new son-in-law and am busy with last minute preparations ahead of my oldest daughter's Saturday wedding.

I did snap this dragonfly picture this morning, though, and thought I'd share it with you. On July 4th our neighbor Gideon stuck a burnt out sparkler into the top of one of our tiki torches. For whatever reason, it's become a favorite Dragonfly Perch. This one stayed put despite several others darting about waiting for their turn.

Hope you all have a great Thursday.

Why Palin can't be saved

2009-07-14T09:11:00.000-07:00

The patient lies on the floor. Her pulse is thready, her breath shallow. Her eyes stare wildly and fearfully into a future she'll never see.

Above her, two doctors feverishly work to revive her.

The patient is Sarah Palin. The would-be-rescuers? Sarah's right-wing supporters and the mainstream media.

The rescuers' motives for saving Sarah are as different as they are. Her wing-nut supporters wants to see her name at the top of the ticket in 2012. She is, after all, the Chosen One. I mean, what's not to love about a woman who can't name a single thing she reads, shoots wolves from airplanes and is so pro-life she made sexual assault victims in Alaska pay for their own rape kits. It was Sarah who gave knuckle-dragging mouth-breathers like Joe the Plumber a platform, who celebrated him as Everyman to counter the well-educated uppity black guy who dared challenge McCain in the last election.

Which is exactly why the mainstream media also wants her to survive. Like the majority of the nation - and unlike Sarah's supporters - they preferred that uppity black guy. Obama was well read, articulate and thoughtful. He was a comfort to a nation who was ready to move from a leader they'd like to shoot pool with to a leader who could unite and lead the nation. Having covered the mess Bush made of things, the media knows it will take more than one term to fix it. And the best way for Obama to get a second term is to run against someone who absolutely cannot win.

That someone is Sarah Palin, and the media knows it.

The media recognizes that Sarah's supporters are crazy, so crazy that they're not afraid to turn on other Republicans. Look what happened to conservative columnist Jonah Goldberg when he dared suggest that Sarah was out of her league.

Another of Sarah's supporters, John Ziegler, went so far as to call her detractors "terrorists," and on sites like Conservatives4Palin her delusional fans offer gems like this:

Sarah Palin loves God. God loves Sarah Palin. And that is why they hate her....and Him.

I contend that the media's seeming blindness to Palin's faults - and the overplaying of her influence -is solely intentional. Apart from FOX the media is reflecting the public bias in favor of Obama. Palin is the best thing to happen to the Democrats in a long time. The media wants her to survive. The more she's out there, the more vocal her supporters will be, and the more they'll become the face of the party. At the end of the day Obama cannot not fuck up enough to lose to a party defined by its White Trash elements.

That's why the media has downplayed her resignation. That's why they've never really dug into the many scandals swirling around her. And that's why - in the wake of her political suicide attept - they are so eager to revive her.

But I think the majority of the GOP is savvy enough to see what a losing proposition she is, which is why even conservatives are starting to speak out. They're not going to let her hijack their party. So they're going to finish her off.

Call it a mercy killing for all involved.

Sarah Palin sets example for daughters by refusing to go all the way

2009-07-07T08:01:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile since I've written anything here about Sarah Palin, whom I snarkily referred to as McCain's Vagina during 2008 presidential campaign.

But now that she's sulkily stomped out of office because people wouldn't stop being mean to her, how could I resist analyzing her decision to abandon her post as Governor halfway through her term?

"I'm not a quitter, I'm a fighter," Palin told CNN.

Oh come on, Sarah. As a modern woman and working mother why not just admit how good you are at doing it all? You're a fighter and a quitter. You're a fighter who quits. You're the plucky point guard who drives through the full court press with her eye on the basket and then refuses to take the shot because the opposing team dared to try and block you. (The nerve of them!)

Who knows her real reason for leaving. If it's the one she gave then no wonder her supporters are so stunned.

Bloggers, Sarah sniffs, are just a bunch of poopy-heads who say mean things and she isn't going to take it anymore.

They're just like that awful David Letterman who joked that her teen daughter might have had sex in New York with a pro-athlete. As opposed to the truth, which is that her teen daughter had sex in Palin's own home with a high-school athlete.

"Lettermen should apologize!", Sarah pouted, stomping the ground in a way that made her hair extensions bounce oh-so-prettily. She said the joke was not funny. What apparently was funny was SNL's earlier skit about her husband Todd having sex with her daughters. How did she express outrage over that particular "insult?" That's right - she went on SNL as a guest.

But forget that little inconsistency. Sarah wants to make it clear - it's her right as a mother - not the media's - to exploit her kids. She gave birth to them, after all. Or at least to four of them. Not everyone believes Trig is Sarah's, unless of course you're willing to believe that a 43-year-old pro-life Christian woman knowing that carrying a Downs baby put her in the riskiest of high-risk pregnancy categories would knowingly leak amniotic fluid all day before boarding a plane in Texas and flying to Alaska, only to bypass two major medical centers in Anchorage in favor of a backwater hospital with no NICU facilities. For more on why no sane person could really believe that story, read this.

Other possibilities as to why Sarah quit? Daughter Bristol's baby-daddy Levi is shopping a tell-all book deal; maybe the long-simmering question over Trig will finally be revealed. After a long fight another pajama-clad blogger is about to get her hot little hands on a batch of Sarah's yet-unreleased emails. Who knows what they'll reveal. Rumors have swirled for months now that the Palins wound up with a shiny new house shortly after a lumber company won the contract to build a still-controversial sports center in Wasilla when Sarah was mayor there. If there turns out to be anything to that, then Sarah could have added "stealing home" to the other bizarre sports analogies she used in her disjointed July 3 resignation speech.

Or, maybe, Sarah is finally telling the truth. She's not really a pitbull. She's just a Papillon who impressed people by yapping through the fence all these months.

"Look how tough she is!" they said. "Isn't she cute! And brave, too!"

Then she saw that the gate was open. And instead of hanging with the big dogs she turned and ran away whining. And everyone realized she was never what she - or John McCain - pretended she was.

No matter what the reality, Sarah Palin is toast. Having proved how well she handles political pressure by not handling it, she's destroyed any chance of ever being taken seriously again.

And I, for one, am really happy about that.

The latest news cycle: Dead pedophiles in, brave protesters out

2009-06-26T07:28:00.000-07:00

So I was going to do a shot today every time I heard a broadcast news reporter say the words "Jackson autopsy." Then I decided that was a bad idea since if I actually did I'd be dead of alcohol poisoning before lunch.

On the other hand, a few drinks wouldn't hurt if I'm going to endure this latest "news cycle."

I'm getting to where I absolutely loathe the media, or what is trying to pass itself off as media. Just 24 hours ago, CNN was all over the inspiring, revolutionary, monumental, brave uprising in Iran....until Michael Jackson went and offered them something better to cover by dying on us.

All it took was one fading celebrity pedophile to croak for the major networks to say, "Fuck you, Iranians. Yeah, we know you're still getting beaten to a pulp in the streets as you fight for freedom, but we really need to concentrate on this one dead guy now."

Suddenly it was as if this woman or the millions inspired by her never mattered at all:

Maybe she and her fellow protesters should have tried harder to have a hit record. Or well-placed Hollywood friends like Cher and Liz Taylor.

Somewhere right now, Iranian president-turned-dictator Ahmadinejad is laughing his ass off and telling the protestors, "See, the US never really gave a damn about you."

And judging by our media, he's right. US broadcast news is the most fickle, shallow medium on the planet. I've stepped in puddles deeper than the people who run these networks.

Of course it can be argued that they're just giving the public what we wants. If that's the truth, then that's just plain scary.

Snow Day

2009-01-22T17:24:00.000-08:00

I'm hoping to dust this blog off soon and start posting until then. Until I do, here's a short video Larry shot during our recent snowfall. Snow is pretty rare around here and made the morning chores more interesting. And a whole lot colder!

Happy New Year!

2009-01-08T09:35:00.000-08:00

You know, I just realized it's been over a month since I last posted anything on The Token Hippie.

It's not because I haven't thought about it; I thought about doing a Christmas post but then Christmas came and went before I could get around to it.

I thought about a number of snarky posts I could write about political matters, including the Palin Interview/Turkey Massacre which was so funny it almost made me pee myself. But within a couple of days all the good jokes had been taken.

I thought about posting about stuff that's been happening in my life. Most of it's good; some is not. The not-so-good is that my oldest son was diagnosed with degenerative disc disease and will eventually need back surgery. Scary stuff, and hard for a vital, active 22-year-old man to accept. The good? We're there for him and each other and had a wonderful holiday season to cap off our really good year.

Work is keeping me busy, and so is a project I'm part of that could potentially be...well, huge. If it turns out the way I think it will then eventually you'll all probably know about it even before I can get around to posting it here.

Things here on our tiny farm are ramping up. The first kids from our dairy goats are due February 18th. Or herd is up to seven now, which includes a borrowed Alpine buck that redefines the word "horny." I will be very glad when he's performed the last of his goat-fucking duties so I can send him back to his farm.

Our sheep may or may not be pregnant. It's hard to tell with all that wool. The kids are really hoping for lambs. If they are we'll know in February or March. All my farmer friends say to expect the kids and lambs to come on the coldest night of the year.

For Christmas, I got a farmhand. Her name is Meg and she is a registered Border Collie and capable of doing what our sixteen year old retired Australian shepherd and smaller corgis are not, which is to intimidate and drive back the goats when I need her too.

I found her through Craigslist, where I placed an ad specifying that I was looking for a herding dog that would be not just a worker but a companion. On Christmas Eve, I got an email from a woman named Donna whose father had raised and trained Border Collies for years. She said he'd bought a puppy a year ago and shortly afterwards developed dementia. She said the dog, now a year old, was from good herding stock and showed excellent potential.

She said she and her siblings had finally convinced their dad that it was unfair to "Meg" to keep her penned up all day because Border Collies are such high energy dogs. She really wanted us to adopt her.

The problem was that her father wanted to sell the dog, and having gotten emails from about twenty people offering to give me Border Collies (apparently it's a breed that people buy without realizing how intense and smart they are) I wasn't willing to pay more than a hundred dollars for an adoption fee.

But "Donna" felt strongly about us taking the dog and said she and her siblings were prepared to make up the difference so their dad would think he'd sold the dog. I told her we'd come take a look.

The kids were excited, but I warned them that looking at the dog didn't guarantee we could get it. I worried that the dog may have become neurotic from being penned up. And when I saw her I was even more worried. The man was keeping her in a rabbit hutch, with barely enough room to turn around.

"See why we want to find her a good home?" the woman asked when she heard me gasp. "He only lets her out twice a day."

This time when he let Meg out she shot like a bullet around the yard and made straight for the flock of guineas and bronze turkeys by the barn. I watched, impressed as she lowered into a stalking stance, her eyes fixed on her quarry. Meg rounded them up and then sat disappointed as they flew to the roof.

"Come here," I called, and was surprised when she came over to cover our faces with doggie kisses. She was just so sweet.

I told the woman I'd take her and slipped her the money. She slipped me an envelope and said, "Give this to Dad."

I walked over and told the old man we wanted Meg. I handed him the envelope. '

"Is it all there?" he asked.

It occurred to me then that I'd never asked Donna how much her dad wanted.

"Yeah," I said, the envelope still in my outstretched hand.

"Would you mind counting it?" he asked, and I knew then he wanted to make sure I was giving him the full amount, but didn't want to appear rude by counting it himself.

I counted the money out. There was $300. His kids had pitched in $200 to give Meg a shot at a new life. I was so touched, not just by his family's love for him and that dog but by the man himself.

"I'm too old for them now," he said of the Border Collies. "I loved working with the, training them. They really are the best dogs. If you ever have any questions..."

"I'll certainly call," I said, giving him a hug. "Thank you so much. We love her already."

And we did.

Meg had never been in a car but rode home in ours that day. She'd never been in a house or slept on a bed. She did both that night, although I decided after that night to crate her for her own sanity at night. She's so compelled to herd that on the first night she sat at the foot of my bed from 4 a.m. until 7 and began to whine when she saw the sheep at first light.

She loves herding. She herds the kids. She herds the sheep. She herds the goats. She herds the ducks. She even tries herding the cats and will pick one out, and seek to maintain eye contact with it. If the cat is on the back of the couch looking at Meg and looks the other way, she'll run around to the other side to try and stare it down again.

Of course, nobody wins a staring contest with a cat. You can't herd them either, but the notion of doing it has made Meg a source of fascination and exasperation for our dog-friendly cats who can't decide what is up with this new addition to the family.

Our youngest corgi, Nemo, thinks Meg is the grandest thing in the world and they run themselves ragged playing chase.

So that's what's been going on here. Happy New Year to you all! Hope 2009 is getting off to a doggone good start for you as well.

Pregnant pause

2008-12-03T06:29:00.000-08:00

Yes, yes. I know the election is over and those of us who gave McCain's Vagina a good pounding will miss all the material she provided, from her ties to that witch-hunting preacher to her inability to name one single magazine or newspaper she reads on a daily basis.

Yes, Sarah Palin was good for a laugh. But underneath the expensive frocks and inability to form a coherent sentence were some serious questions surrounding a woman who managed to both become a governor and the potential Number Two person in our nation's government.

Troopergate was one. Did Sarah Palin fire the government official who refused to fire her brother-in-law during his messy divorce to Palin's sister? Travelgate was another. Did she stick Alaska with the cost of dragging her kids along on state business?

The media did a good job of covering these stories. But it ignored the biggest story of all -whether or not Sarah Palin faked a pregnancy and passed that story off to the public. There seems to be mounting evidence that Sarah did not give birth to Trig. And if she lied, it was a lie aided, it would seem, by a male-dominated media too squeamish to really examine the biological discrepancies of a story which never quite added up to many women who know a thing or three about giving birth.

The most dogged in pursuit of this truth is Audrey over at the Palin Deception blog. A mother, former childbirth educator and lactation counselor married to a physician, Audrey was immediately suspicious when she heard Palin's account of how she began leaking amniotic fluid at a Texas governor's conference and still waited eight hours to fly back to Alaska, where she bypassed a major medical center to drive to a small community hospital to deliver a child she allegedly knew would be born with special needs. The special needs was Downs Syndrome, supposedly diagnosed via an amnio administered far earlier than medical professionals allow.

These discrepancies, combined with conflicting photographs of Sarah looking not all pregnant and then suddenly very pregnant shortly before Trig's arrival - and her refusal to ever provide medical records - sent Audrey on a quest to find the truth, not because she hates Sarah Palin but because she believes - as many of us do - that no politician should get away with telling a lie of this magnitude.

Since the election, traffic on Audrey's blog has only increased as she and others continue to look for evidence to prove their suspicion that Sarah Palin - for whatever reason - lied about giving birth to Trig.

A couple of days ago, she was provided with a photo that many of us think proves her point. This shot was taken in March, around the time Sarah Palin would have been 32 weeks pregnant:

Looks like a normal shot, right? There's Sarah, with a bit of a "bump." But enlarge it. Is that really a bump? Or a pad?

If you enlarge this you can clearly see a rectangular pad and not a baby bump. The fabric is lose below the pad, and any woman who's had a baby and who is familiar with the distinctive shape of a pregnant belly will recognize that something is very, very, very wrong with this picture.

I'm not going to rehash Audrey's entire post here. She does an excellent job of providing more photos on her page for juxtaposition, both of how pregnant bellies really are shaped as well as a photo of how Sarah Palin suddenly looked eighteen days after this picture was taken.

If you want to get freaked out even more, check out what Jack Bog posted on his blog today. Please take particular note of the revealing screen grab taken from a documentary in which Sarah Palin pats her "pregnant" belly.

For those of us who have long thought this was a story, the biggest disappointment has been the dismissive attitude of the people who run about calling themselves "journalists." The only ones who have been brave enough to stay on the trail of this story is Audrey and a handful of other dedicated bloggers who deserve the word far more than those guys sitting in their offices ironically ringed with J-school diplomas. Too bad those degrees didn't come with backbones; when questions like these loom large, the public deserves a press brave enough to answer them.

It's a sad commentary on the state of modern journalism when private citizens are more interested in uncovering the truth than the press. Something's rotten in Denmark, folks, and our nation's media is sitting there with a clothes pin on its nose.

So good work, Audrey. Hopefully someone, somewhere with a louder voice will take a second look at what you've found.

It's not as easy as it looks

2008-11-28T03:28:00.000-08:00

From the UK Guardian comes this wonderful piece on How Not To Write A Sex Scene.

Try not to wake the neighbors with your passionate screams. Of laughter.

Monday funny

2008-11-24T08:41:00.000-08:00

Attractive Girls Union Refuses To Enter Talks With Mike Greenman

Ready, set, COLD...

2008-11-19T11:27:00.000-08:00

My readers to the north - especially my Canadian readers - will probably find my idea of "cold" amusing. But here in North Carolina, lows in the 20's and highs in the 40's Officially Qualifies.

At least we got some advance warning of the icy air that's settled over our area, so we had time to prepare.

Here are some of the lessons on Preparing for Winter from our creatures - two legged and four-legged alike, as illustrated through pictures I've taken over the past three days:

1. Stock up on stuff(ing) for the house

2. Make sure there's plenty of food

3. Find a good book to read

4. Curl up with a friend

5. Put on your winter woolies

6. Break out the blankets

7. Make sure the quilts still work.

Posting lull..

2008-11-17T05:15:00.000-08:00

Sorry for the prolonged absence from the blogosphere, guys. And thanks to all of you who've sent emails checking in to see if I was all right.

I am doing fine, thank you. But given that during election season I was posting once - or sometimes twice - a day I decided a break was in order. It's been a working break mostly. Just because I'm not writing here doesn't mean I'm not writing. But I've also been taking some time to catch up on reading and am enjoying Spook by Mary Roach and reading Inskspell aloud to Larry and the kids. (If you don't read aloud or get read to, I highly recommend both. And I'm not talking about audiobooks. Go to a reading if you must. And thank me later.)

We had a lot of rain, so I spent much of the end of last week and this weekend slogging around in the much to care for the horses, sheep and goats. Tonight some bitter cold comes in. So today we're putting up a front wall on the sheep shed, dragging the pony blankets out for the mare and foal, putting heated water buckets in the stalls, and throwing in extra bedding so

everyone can be comfy.

Animals are occupying a large portion of my time as winter approaches. We've bred one dariy goat and will soon be taking one more to Hampstead to breed soon. We added a ram to our pair of ewes and while he's a smaller breed he's making an attempt to get it on with the taller ladies. My non-fiction reading these days runs to primers on lambing and kidding. This weekend I moved a cabinet into the kitchen just for the veterinary supplies I've accumulated and was surprised at how quickly I filled it with my store of antibiotics, vaccines, wormers, bloat and hoof rot remedies, syringes, tubing, IV fluids and bandages. When you keep livestock you quickly learn to do a lot of your own work yourself and save the veterinarian for emergencies. Trust me, there will still be plenty of those.

So that's what I've been up to when I'm not blogging.

I've had a few posts kicking around in my head for when I finally get time to blog. One regards the rather amusing meltdown of conservatives post-Obama victory. Another analyzes why I now realize why the Bible refers to followers of Christ as sheep and sinners as goats. A third is a rather personal perspective on Time and the importance of valuing it, especially as we get older.

Just bear with me until I get back to you. I promise it won't be too much longer.

How to have fun with the losing side

2008-11-08T10:57:00.000-08:00

The beauty of this is that most McCain supporters would totally fall for this...

More such awesome stuff at www.236.com, which is now in my sidebar.

Weekend mood music

2008-11-07T18:44:00.000-08:00

Wishing Well, by Terence Trent D'Arby. Love this song. Love this guy. Wanted to share.

Carolina Blue!!!

2008-11-06T09:54:00.000-08:00

Yeah, baby! We did it! It's official! North Carolina went for Obama! We're a blue state now!

OK, so maybe we're just light blue. And maybe my backwards-ass county still voted Republican.

But I'm not going to let that rain on my parade. Being the resident of a New Blue State has put a spring in my step.

Alabama and Mississippi - you still suck.

Sorry, but so do you, South Carolina, Tennessee and Georgia. We're only touching you because we have to. When you look away we rub sanitizer on the part of the border we're forced share with you.

Virginia, you are awesome. It's an honor to be your neighbor.

I. am. so. PROUD.

Justice Gets Doled Out

2008-11-05T19:26:00.000-08:00

From the woman who brought us "Godless" comes "Classless."

Her mama and daddy must be rolling in their graves to hear her give them credit for her "values." I can't believe she's standing up there offering to pray for Kay Hagan.

Ugh.

Elizabeth Dole was worse than ineffective; she became a colossal embarrassment to North Carolina by exemplifying the worst of Tar Heel politics.

Good bye and good riddance, Mrs. Dole. Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out.

Sarah Palin was right

2008-11-05T09:02:00.000-08:00

Last month, one of the knuckle-dragging Right's favorite preachers, Dr. James Dobson, interviewed Sarah Palin about puzzling poll numbers that showed The Christian Crusade was losing to the Unholy Obama Insurgency.

But Bible Spice said she wasn't concerned because as a Prayer Warrior (her words) she was sure that God would Do the Right Thing:

To me, it motivates us, makes us work that much harder. And it also strengthens my faith, because I'm going to know, at the end of the day, putting this in God's hands, that the right thing for America will be done at the end of the day on Nov. 4. So I'm not discouraged at all.

For the first time I find myself agreeing with Palin. The right thing was indeed done for America, even if it has left McCain's Vagina wondering why in the heck God didn't deliver the anointing she was expecting.

It's got to be a tough pill to swallow, but I can't feel sorry for her. She should have known she was way out of her league.

I'd rather feel more sympathy for McCain, who likely realized too late that his pandering to right wingers who pressured him to pick a blatantly unqualified clothes horse for a running mate also attracted the kind of trash who couldn't control themselves long enough to let an old war hero give a speech that may have bridged the gap his low-brow handlers widened with their tactics.

There are a lot of "ifs" in the wake of this campaign. What if McCain had been a true maverick, the kind who stood up to the Karl Roves of his party and said, "No, this country is too good for the kind of campaign you want to run."? What if he had bucked the conventional wisdom that says the only way to achieve the high road is by taking the low one? What if he'd continued to be the man he really is, rather than let himself be shaped by the most hateful elements of the GOP into someone he probably no longer recognized himself?

But he did not. Instead he let the very people who profess to follow a God of Love sow the seeds of hate in his name. And last night - if you believe in Divine Providence - a miracle occurred when God did just what Sarah Palin trusted him to do and blessed America with a true leader.

And that's no small thing.

The Difference

2008-11-04T15:15:00.000-08:00

This afternoon around 4:30 I was sitting here at my computer being a good little pornographer and writing a dirty story when I decided to take a break and check my email. And there among my usual messages from the Obama campaign was an urgent one about the need for people to make last minute phone calls in North Carolina, which hasn't voted Democrat since we helped send Jimmy Carter to the White House.

But don't hold that against us. This time is different and the Obama campaign realizes it, which is why - up until the last minute - they concentrated on their ground game.

I've already given and volunteered, but I thought, "Why not do a little more." So I folded up the sultry little yarn I was working on, retrieved the call list from the Obama Web site and hit the phones.

I'm so glad I did, because talking to other Obama supporters reaffirms what I've known all along. We are so much cooler, more interesting and down-to-earth than the Republicans. I bet we're cuter, too.

Not one person was rude to me. Not one. Not even the guy who said I was the fifth Obama campaign volunteer who'd called him this week. Or the 87-year-old woman who had to limp to the phone to talk to me because she'd fallen earlier in the day and hurt her hip. She cried when she admitted she'd been unable to go to vote because her doctor didn't want her to leave the house, but she said with pride that she'd called her sons and they'd all voted for Obama.

I was able to talk three college students into going out to vote. Having three college age kids, I'm experienced in shaming young people into doing the right thing.

"Yeah," said one. "My mom said the same thing and I know she's right. The polling station is right down the street. I'll walk there now."

Awesome.

But some people were way ahead of me. My favorite as a 50-year-old woman who said she was so excited about voting that she couldn't get to sleep until about three in the morning and then woke up abruptly at four from a nightmare in which she'd forgotten to vote.

She said she was so upset by the dream that she got up, pulled on her robe, grabbed a bag of chips and a lawn chair and headed down to the polling station to camp out until the polls opened. She was the first one in line and ended up on the news, much to the horror of her mother, who called to ask her if she realized she had been interviewed still wearing her pajamas.

Dedicated, lively, caring, committed and diverse. The people I spoke to ranged from 18 up to 94 and were black, white, Hispanic and Indian. They were all positive about the Obama campaign and hopeful for a brighter future for this nation.

After a campaign that has brought us innuendo about Obama's religion, distractions about his non-existent ties to terrorists and a myriad other shameful tactics it is

good to see an electorate that mirrors the fine character of the candidate they support.

One of the men I talked to tonight summed it up well. He said while he supported Obama, he couldn't help but feel sorry for McCain.

"He's a good man, I think," he said. "But he allowed some bad people to hijack his campaign and mold him into the image of someone he never wanted to be. The right wing may have taken this hero and destroyed his legacy for good."

So true.

And now? Well, we sit back and wait. And hope. Because at this point that's all we can do. At this point, Hope is what it's all about.

Horsing Around, Part V

2008-11-03T12:54:00.000-08:00

On Sunday we went riding, and Alex's usually unmotivated pony, Oliver, found enough motivation to kick up his heels trying to catch up with Lumos. It wasn't a big buck, but it was enough to unseat Alex. She hit the ground at a roll and by the time I had stopped Lumos and turned around she was back up on her feet. Larry, who was filming, was more frightened than any of us.

This first fall off of Oliver wasn't her worst. She's taken far more harrowing falls from her Shetland pony, Lyric. And oddly, Alex is as proud of her falls as she is her riding skills and was thrilled that her dad had taped this one. That's why it's on YouTube; she couldn't wait to show her friends.

And of course, she got right back on because that's what you have to do. Afterwards she jumped a couple more fences and rounds of cantering before we called it a day. As you can see from the photo, Lumos thought he deserved a treat after the ride and turned my pocket inside out looking for one.

Hey, Christopher...

2008-10-31T07:54:00.000-07:00

...don't forget to vote!! Or you could wake up Nov. 5th to this:

Don't let this happen. ;-)

Oh, and Happy Halloween everybody. I wanted to post something scary and I couldn't think of anything more frightening than being praised by Bill O'Reilly or George Bush.

Halloween on the farm

2008-10-28T14:20:00.000-07:00

This video may piss some people off, but the only thing that makes me mad about this is that I didn't think of it first. We have three sheep and while I adore them they are hopelessly stupid animals. This video makes me laugh till my sides hurt. I wonder if - once the mask was off - the other sheep were like, "Oh, geesh. It's only Gus!"

Tagged

2008-10-28T09:03:00.000-07:00

So I've been tagged by Christopher and now must submit seven facts about myself. Furthermore, I must "tag" and link to seven other blogs or else something horrible may happen to me. For instance, I could wake up to find I've turned into a Republican Baptist who prefers the Rush Limbaugh podcast to my morning Writer's Almanac fix.

Normally I don't care for chain letter-style memes, but why take the risk when so much is at stake? So here goes.

1. I never had morning sickness when I was pregnant. But I if I sat down and really thought about the fact that I had another person growing inside of me I'd get so sick I'd throw up.

2. I'm fascinated by old graveyards and love to take pictures of tombstones. I blame my childhood for my obsession with Things Morbid; I grew up on a haunted farm.

3. I can mimic a Barred Owl call so well that I can get them to answer or even fly close to me in the wild.

4. I enjoy sewing and have made my own clothes in the past. I also love to knit and make little felt dolls.

5. I used to think I could be friends with anyone despite philosophical differences. I recently found out that's not true. Some differences just can't be overcome.

6. I believe in magic and the supernatural. I've seen proof of both.

7. I shattered my ankle over a year ago. It turned out to be one of the best things that has ever happened to me.

So here are the seven bloggers I am "tagging":

Assorted Misgivings and Trepidations - Home of Bobb Citizen of the Earth. My daily online stress-reliever and Moment of Zen.

Sea Scribes - Grace is beautiful and brilliant. Her writing leaves me breathless.

Pagreenery - Musings, wordplay, rabbits and more! Oh, and Lu' is a really nice person, too.

Mouthing Off With Micky-T - If you can get past that scary bird, this is a wonderful little political blog.

Fluffiest Blog in the West - Shrub is an awesome guy. He doesn't update that often anymore so I don't know if he'll participate, but his blog is worth reading for his Testicle Tuesday archives alone.

Jana the Caring Cleaning Lady - So technically her blog is called "Get Off the Phone," but Jana the Caring Cleaning Lady is what I call her. Super sweet gal who just adopted a kitten that looks a lot like my new kitty!

Entropic Doom - Don't let the blue hair fool you. She's a hip young chick and a damn good writer!

Halloween fun

2008-10-28T08:41:00.000-07:00

My sister Carla sent me this interesting variation of tic-tac-toe. Try it. It's pretty cool or at least it might be if I could ever finish it.

The empty Valentino suit

2008-10-26T06:46:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Jim for sending me this link to a wonderful commentary on the makeover of McCain's Vagina, which turned out to be so financially and politically costly. Take special note of how the blunder has so thoroughly backfired against their claims of Obama Elitism.

Sometimes hypocrisy can be a beautiful thing.

Also note the campaign's weak arguments in defending the makeover. And if you are tempted to feel sorry for the party or their candidate, just remember: they brought this whole thing on themselves. Try as they might, they couldn't put enough lipstick on this Political Pig to get the public to take her seriously.

McCain's black eye

2008-10-24T11:41:00.000-07:00

When the story of an alleged attack on McCain campaign volunteer Ashley Todd broke in huge red letters on the Drudge Report, I was instantly suspicious.

Todd - did I mention she's a McCain volunteer? - claimed she was attacked by a 6'4" black man who beat her up before sitting on her chest and carving a "B" on her face to "teach her a lesson." Why? Because the big, mean black man saw her McCain bumper sticker and got mad.

But the photo, which the increasingly desperate Drudge probably posted one handed while gleefully masturbating with the other, made me instantly suspicious.

Todd - she's a McCain volunteer, by the way - sports a black eye in the photo, but not the bruising one would expect a punch in the face delivered by a guy as large and mentally unhinged as Bill O'Reilly.

And then there's that "B," which looks more like it was scratched than carved. And the position of the letter shows it was put there by someone too ignorant to realize if she's going to carve a "B" into her face doing it in the mirror it would show up backwards to anyone facing her.

I don't know what the "B" was supposed to stand for. It can't stand for McCain, although that's the guy she's volunteering for. Did I mention that? I suppose she meant it to stand for "Barack" or "Black." But we know it stands for "bitch." Too bad she forgot to put an "S" in front of it, since "SB" stands for Stupid Bitch.

The best part of this story is that McCain apparently researched this story as well as he researched is pick for VP. Because if he had, instead of calling his volunteer Ashley Todd and offering support, he would have called his opponent to apologize for running the kind of campaign that has attracted such racist white trash.

I'm going this weekend to volunteer for the Obama campaign. Perhaps to even this out I'll put on a Neiman Marcus suit, scratch the word "Unqualified" across my forehead and claim I was attacked by a Palin supporter.

To you McCain enthusiasts - take a good look at that picture. That's the face of what your campaign has become. Hope you're proud.

Here's something almost as funny as the McCain campaigns continued implosion:

For the absolute funniest take on this whole story, though, go read what Blognigger has to say.

Blondes have more fun

2008-10-23T17:08:00.000-07:00

I'm seriously in love with Lumos. He's such an awesome little horse and so pretty. I'm pleased with how well he's coming along. He's very smart, very willing to please.

There's nothing like a few hours of riding to mellow me out and today I was ready for some Equestrian Therapy. Regular readers of my blog know I've had a rough couple of weeks what with my kitty dying. The new one I adopted came with a virus - not a serious one - but serious enough to set me back another $200 at the vet yesterday afternoon. By late today a nice ride had risen to the level of Necessity.

The last time I wrote about the horses was when Alex and I had the instructor out. We'd been working on our jumping and Alex's quarter pony, Oliver, had done much better than my Lumos.

Lumos is a Haflinger. He's built like a tank and while he has the ability to jump he has yet to refine it, and it's a challenge getting into a two-point (the position riders get in when a horse jumps) because he's so short and stout.

We both did much better today. Today he actually jumped. It wasn't consistent; he still plodded through several fences but if I cue him hard enough he tucks up pretty well.

Like all green hunters, Lumos has a tendency to over-jump and will go over a two-foot fence like it's much bigger. Or he'll just barely jump them. Experience will solve both those problems.

Oliver did that today, too, even though he was trained as a hunter and knows better. I love Alex's pony but he can be a little shit when he wants to be. He did the same thing today that he did when the instructor was here; even though he can jump he plowed through them with Alex several times because he thought he could get away with it.

So today - again - I got on him and made him do the course. He jumped this one so ridiculously big that he looks like he's rearing. It didn't help that Alex's stirrups were about four inches too short so whenever he came down I felt like I was going to get pitched off.

Eventually, though, he did like he was supposed to do. So next time he has no excuse to act like a complete jackass.

I ended the ride with a sense of accomplishment. Small gains, after all, are better than no gains at all. And for me any ride that doesn't end with me falling on my ass is a good one.

It's supposed to rain this weekend. Again. So our plans to ride Saturday will probably be scuttled. Hopefully it will be drive by Sunday. Alex and I are trying to vary our routine so next time we're not going to jump. Instead we're going to play some games that should be fun for both us and our ponies.

On a final note, you may notice that one of us isn't wearing her helmet. That would be the dumb one. Really, you should always, always, always wear a helmet when you ride. I usually do. Usually.

Fashionably hypocritical

2008-10-22T05:43:00.000-07:00

Do you remember a week or so back when McCain's Vagina waltzed into an Ohio Wal-Mart under the pretense of buying some diapers for her baby-prop, Trapdoor or Pygmallion or whatever the hell his name is*?

Remember how some conservatives gushed that this proved that she was an average, everyday mom because she got off the Straight Talk Express to buy store-brand? The implication was that name-brand nappies were too extravagant to catch the poops of a baby whose mom was so frugal as Alaskan governor that she fired her chef and put her her plane on eBay.

"She's a regular person," McCain has insisted. But this morning the news is telling a different story.

Apparently, Palin's clothing and personal stylist have set the GOP back a cool $150,000. That's right. One hundred fifty followed by three zeros. I know a lot of truly average people who'd like to have that kind of money; if they did I bet they wouldn't spend it on over-priced make-up and clothes, either. I know I wouldn't. That's enough to pay for a year of insurance coverage, buy a modest house or fund two years at a state college for two students.

I was genuinely surprised to see a female anchor on MSNBC defend Palin this morning. "It cost a lot of money for a woman in the public eye to look good!" she protested.

It's a good thing the kids weren't awake, because I was up and out of my chair when I heard that.

"Not that much, you stupid bitch!" I yelled, gesticulating at the television as I did. And then I cursed some more when I realized I'd managed to spill my coffee while attempting to flip off some news anchor who couldn't even see me.

The anchor pointed out that Obama's suits aren't cheap and on that point I agree. But I bet it hasn't cost that much. And the McCain campaign is showing its true colors by selling Palin as an average hockey mom while spending more on five weeks worth of clothes than most working mothers make in a year.

If Palin was able to turn down a plane and a chef because they were too extravagant, why has she suddenly become unable to turn down nearly $4,7000 of hair and make-up services - nearly $1,000 each week of the campaign - on the grounds that it was excessive? The MSNBC anchor complained that its the handlers fault. They're making her do this. So why not go all Super-Maverick on them and Just Say No? If Palin can't stand up to her campaign handlers, how is she going to stand up to Congress?

The McCain campaign is in a snit over the criticism. They contend that they were going to donate the clothes to a charity after the campaign, but it seems to me that given the depreciation of their purchases, a wiser route would have been for Palin to put that GOP money where her mouth is, pick up something from Wal-Mart or Target and donate what the campaign handlers wanted to spend to a children's charity.

Is this how a fiscal watchdog behaves? Or is this pitbull with lipstick only satisfied with lipstick that's part of an over-priced makeover? If her past record is any indication, the answer is 'yes.' As mayor of Wasilla, she spent $50,000 in unauthorized city funds to redecorate her office.

Of course, there's an upside to all of this. For me. With each passing day, a little more information comes out that raises Palin's negatives and broadens Obama's lead in the polls. McCain deserves a defeat for hanging this bimbo-shaped millstone around his wrinkled neck. Maybe he should let her keep the clothes. I'm all for Palin getting some lovely parting gifts so long as we never have to see her again.

*I refer to the baby as a prop because many of us still doubt it's hers.

More mouth-breathers for McCain

2008-10-21T13:38:00.000-07:00

Watch this video, and the next time some wing-nut tells you that he or she likes Palin because Palin is an average person, remember that this is their idea of an average person.

Why? Because with the GOP, Stupid has become the new Black. And I don't mean black as a skin color, because the only thing that scares a conservative Republican more than a black person is a black person with a book. No, I mean 'black' as in fashionable.

McCain's Vagina has made knuckle-dragging vogue. Thanks to Palin, it's not only considered elitist for someone to be schooled in constitutional law, but to be schooled at all. It's equally elitist to speak proper English, reject the notion that humans once had pet dinosaurs or believe anything other than what Fox News tells you to.

When did Willful Ignorance become the new litmus test for GOP leadership? And don't say, "Since Bush," because this crowd makes W. look like a Rhodes Scholar.

Seriously, people. This is some scary White Trash.

Drifting

2008-10-20T20:22:00.001-07:00

I’m over the top, impossible, unfocused and erratic
I’m silly, childish, dirty-minded and overly dramatic

And I know you think I never listen to a goddamned thing you say
But that’s not true. I really do. I just do not obey.

And I’ve got this knack for disappearing and going off somewhere
inside my head while I’m still sitting right here in this chair.

Or sometimes I really leave and walk off in the woods
for hours. And I wish you’d hush, for it does me worlds of good.

It helps me focus and reflect on what you hate in me
when I’m off by myself like that, in my own company

And I have found when I’m alone that I like myself just fine
so just because I don’t list your faults the way that you list mine
does not mean they are absent because, lover, they are there.
It’s just that petty criticisms aren’t what I care to share.

So back off, man, time is short. The years have no respect.
We can fight if you want, but I’d just as soon have sex.

--Morgan

Onward, Christian cheerleader

2008-10-20T09:10:00.000-07:00

If this doesn't scare you, you aren't paying attention.

For my eldest

2008-10-20T06:06:00.000-07:00

My oldest daughter Jessica is a first year elementary school teacher. She works in a rural, underfunded district a couple of counties away from her home. She loves her job, loves her students and calls me every afternoon during her one-hour commute to tell me about her day.

These conversations sometimes make me angry. They sometimes make me sad. But they always make me proud. We're homeschoolers, and Jessica began her academic life at our kitchen table learning to read from stories I wrote about the adventures of her doll, Cupcake. She was four then.

I loved homeschooling, and we still homeschool her two younger siblings.

But I could not do what she does. I couldn't teach the masses. I know I couldn't. I couldn't deal with the bureaucracy or the politics of teaching with her aplomb. I couldn't face parents I knew to be abusiv

e or neglectful without asking, "Now tell me again why it was you chose to breed?" I couldn't stare into the eyes of some of my students, knowing that I was probably the only person in their lives who even gave a damn, without breaking down.

Jessica does this day after day. And despite the hardships and aggravations of her job, she truly loves it.

"Do what you love." That's what I've told all my kids. And she is.

So when I was looking for another audiobook to put on my iPod and came across this poem by educator/poet Taylor Mali I had to share it with Jessica. And with you. It's a wonderful message that should be heard by anyone who judges a teacher - or any other person's worth - by their paycheck.

Mali isn't just inspirational; he's damn funny, too. I came across this clip on proofreading vs. Spell Check over the weekend and couldn't stop laughing.

International Dispute

2008-10-17T05:30:00.000-07:00

Hans, who hails from France, apparently thinks I'm being condescending.

His issue is with me is that I referred to a Palin supporter as "trash." Let me put this in context. This week I posted a video of a Palin rally, where a Palin supporter said she didn't support Obama because he thought white people were trash.

"I don't like the fact that he thinks us white people are trash," she said. "We're not trash."

I disagreed. She sounds just like every other white trash person I know who trash-talks Obama with statements so obviously rooted in prejudice. And I said so. If it smells like a piece of white trash and rolls like white trash then it's white trash.

Hans thought that was mean. He said I had no business calling anyone trash.

This sparked an exchange between us, during which I chalked his confusion up to cultural differences. Unless you've been around white trash, then don't be so quick to take things out of context, I told him.

His response sought to prove that he did, indeed, understand:

ook here: the mentality you describe exists anywhere, in any ethnos. Including parts of France. What I do not agree with is describing people as trash because of it.

I've had people, whom otherwise I would had trusted on grounds of religious sympathy, distrust me, whether it is because I am from a Protestant country, or because I speak fluent English and can converse with English speaking tourists, or because I fled my country, or because I live on the streets and beg rather than work hard with my fists and arms. I am "frog lover" as that lady would probably call me, but the "frogs" distrust me because I am also "ami des rosbîf" (yup, Frenchies call English roastbeefs=rednecks), and because my folksong repertoir is more anglophone than francophone. I can sing (or could before the colds strained my voice) things like Waltzing Matilda or In Dublin's Fair City or Scotland the Brave: but if I cannot sing either Brel or Brassens, I do not count as a real street singer around here. Especially since I do not play the guitar.

I am a composer, but since this has so far not landed me with success or money, some people will just give me no credit for it.

Wow, I thought. Good point. And then he went and ruined it by going all French Fundamentalist on me:

God decides ultimately who is trash and goes to Gehenna. Yup, the Hebrew word for hell also is the name of the refuse heap outside Jerusalem. Which is reason enough, knowing as we do NOT beforehand who goes there, not to describe people who are alive like that.

Huh?

Well, here's my response to that:

Hans, you're quite welcome to come here on my blog and disagree with me. But again you simply do not understand.

There is a term used called "white trash" to describe ignorant people who remain uneducated by choice. They're generally a hateful lot, and the only way to elevate themselves is to look down on those they believe God created as Lesser Beings, i.e., the blacks, Muslims or even other Christians who don't hold their narrow interpretation of the Bible.

It's an expression, Hans.

But even so, I find it sadly ironic that you express indignation over an expression while admitting belief in a God you say will one day throw nonbelievers into some burn pile. And for what, Hans? For rejecting Him? For being of a faith other than Christianity? For being born into circumstances so brutal that they were never able to muster belief that there was some Benevolent Watcher who loved them or cared one whit about their lives?

For the life of me I can't understand why you are upset that I refer to someone as trash when you admit to worshipping a being who has deemed a large part of humanity disposable.

What would you call those people got cast into your Gehenna, Hans? They were born as innocent as you, but somewhere between innocence and death they lost their way. Would you call them trash? No? Your God does.

And if you really, truly believe that - and it's baffling that an intelligent person would - then you're condoning an injustice that goes far beyond some perceived verbal insult.

What's the French word for "irony?"

Charmed, I'm sure...

2008-10-16T10:52:00.001-07:00

Who says kids can't give good advice? When Alex suggested I keep one of the kittens we've been fostering to ease the pain of losing Jingles, I initially refused to consider it. But when I couldn't face the thought of an empty pillow on my first catless night, I went and fetched the little black kitten that had mysteriously appeared in our ditch just three days before Jingles died.

Right away she settled into Jingles' familiar spot on my pillow, and when I awoke that first night and felt the stab of pain that comes with remembering something Terrible that happened before you went to sleep, the kitty purred in my ear and kneaded my hair with her tiny claws. Jingles used to make cat biscuits on me, too. The new kitty even seems to have a sense of humor. This morning I missed her and after some looking found her asleep in the terra cotta pumpkin I use for a doorstop.

Alex's friend Hannah was sad to hear of Jingles' death. When Alex told her over the phone, Hannah asked to speak to me.

"I'm so sorry," Hannah said in the voice kids use when they feel the need to sound more formal and grown up. Then she grew quiet. "Did she leave a will?"

If you know our family, and the personalities and voices we give our pets then that wouldn't seem like an odd question. It turns out that Jingles did leave a will, and it will be formally read this week to friends and family who knew her. So far I only know of two things she bequeathed: she left the litter spoon and the can opener to me. And she left me to the new cat.

I promise to try to be as good a human to this kitty as I was to Jingles, who always knew how to take such good care of me, her most prized possession. It's a good feeling to know that while this new cat will never completely replace the one I lost, that I will nonetheless be able to love again.

Update: I'd be remiss if I didn't share this very touching poem authored and sent to me by Christopher. I can't read it without getting choked up and think it is really a fitting tribute to Jingles, who really was one of those cats that probably comes along once in a lifetime. When I close my eyes, I can still feel her in my arms and know I will always remember. Even if I can no longer hold her in my arms, I will forever hold her in my heart.

Animals will do what they do.

It's just the way they're made, you see,

Like that grizzled old cat who

Slept on your face and ate brie.

His last meow meant, "Remember me."

Animals will do what they do.

It's just the way they're made, you see.

Jingles

1993 - 2008

Election homestretch humor

2008-10-16T07:02:00.000-07:00

Finally, the last of the debates is over. I think it was a good one - the best one yet. But even so I didn't really hear anything new from either man. McCain tried to distill everyone down to one person - a man named Joe the Plumber who wants to buy his own business - when Americans and their problems are much more diverse than that. Obama understood that and showed confidence and competence on a wider range of issues, which kept McCain plumbing the plumber line when he wasn't trying to tie Obama to Bill Ayers.

Unless something dramatic happens, it's curtains for McCain. He'll lose to the man who was too gracious last night to address Palin's staggering lack of qualifications should McCain become president and then die in office.

But that doesn't mean the rest of us can't continue to enjoy the low brow humor she seems to spawn at every turn. Check this awesome site out for the one of the funniest Palin parodies I've seen yet. Just scroll over the screen for hidden goodies. Scroll over everything, or else you might miss something.

Sometimes it's best to step aside and let conservatives be conservatives

2008-10-15T12:50:00.000-07:00

Really, do I need to add anything? Except to the woman who said she wasn't trash. Uh, sorry, but yes you are.

The really scary thing is that these mouth-breathers represent much of what lives in my community amid the forest of McCain-Palin signs.

Death of my cat

2008-10-14T06:38:00.000-07:00

Jingles just last month, in her favorite place - my lap.

I don’t think there’s any way you can really prepare yourself for the passing of a loved one. When the loved one is a cat, folks may say things like, “She had a good life. She was one of the lucky ones.” They mean well and they’re usually right. But that doesn’t make it any easier.

Last night was the first night in years that my cat Jingles didn’t sleep on my pillow. That’s been her preferred spot since I brought her home twelve years ago as an injured stray. Even in those early days when she was thumping around the house in her purple cast, she managed to hop up on my bed then and curl up on my pillow as if to say, “This is My Spot. And you are mine.”

Larry had told me I could keep her until she was healed, but I think we both knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

I woke up about 2 a.m. this morning to find Jingles missing from Her Spot. I groped around for her and then got up to look for her. I finally found her in the bathroom cabinet. Sometimes she goes in there to get away from things, and normally I just haul her out. I don’t know why I didn’t this time. It was as if she were putting out “leave me be” vibes. So I did.

When the alarm clock went off at about 5:30 Larry got up as usual. About three minutes later, just as I was about to doze back off I heard a horrible cry. Alex came running in obvious panic.

“Mom, I hear an animal crying! What is it?”

We thought something was attacking the goats; that’s how loud it was. Then I realized it was coming from Alex’s room, from under her desk.

I found Jingles in a full seizure and I knew right away she was dying. My sister’s cat, Ivan, died of a stroke several years ago and what I saw was a lot like she described.

I cried out and picked Jingles up. She was cold and drooling. Her pupils were fixed and dilated. I kept telling her I was there, that I wouldn’t let her die alone. Alex started crying and Larry came running in.

I took Jingles into the living room and sat down on the couch. She cried out and seized a few more times, and while I’m not a religious person I summoned whatever connection I have with the Divine and communicated just one thought: "Don't let her suffer. I can accept that she has to leave, but I can't accept seeing her hurt like this."

And then, just like that, she kind of relaxed.

“I’m going to take her to our chair,” I said, referring to the recliner where I start each day working on my laptop. Jingles always sits in my lap when I do. Recently, after she jumped on my keyboard, got her claw hung under the “B” key and pulled it off (I still need to get that fixed) I learned to type with the cat in my lap and the Mac balanced on the arm of the chair. Jingles was all about being accommodated.

She had a purr like a motorboat, and this morning that was all that was missing. She didn’t look like a dying cat. She just looked like she was sleeping. After a few minutes the labored breathing slowed to become deep sighs. I think she knew we were there, all of us, because by this time – one by one – our other cats came in to sit at different points around the room as if paying respect to their friend.

And then she died.

It was about six o’clock, and shortly afterwards Lucas came in. He cried and cried when we told him, and came over to give Jingles a few posthumous “dot-to-dot rubs” (what he calls head-to-tail strokes) as Alex scratched her around the ears and above her little bob tail. Jingles especially liked those "butt scratches." The base of her spine was her sweet spot, and she’d throw back her head in ecstasy when we did that.

We spent some time comforting each other; it was especially hard for Lucas. He’s never known life without Jingles, and this was his first experience with Death.

We talked for a bit about what to do with the body. Jingles was still on my lap, looking – and still feeling – like she was just asleep. Larry offered to have her cremated and I considered that - having Jingles forever interred in a little cat urn on my shelf. But I'm frugal, and ultimately decided that I preferred to bury her in the flower bed by the front door, beside the Lady Banks Rose.

I told Larry I’d just hold her while he dug the grave. While he did, the kids made farewell cards for Jingles. Alex drew three little portraits of Jingles and Lucas drew one. His rendering gave Jingles a long, giraffe-like neck. I don’t now how she would have felt about that one. We tucked the cards between her paws.

Alex offered to take a few pictures. She's turning into quite the little historian. Like me, she feels that everything needs to be documented, even the sad stuff.

"You can delete them later if you don't want them," she said. But I never will. Jingles death, like her life, is now part of our family's tapestry.

Last time going to sleep in my lap.

Farewell cards. Farewell, cat.

My 18-year-old son, John, is blessedly not here today. He’s autistic and Jingles is one of the living things in his life that he truly loves. I don’t look forward to telling him that she’s gone. I don’t really know how I’m going to do it, in fact. There’s more to think about when a cat dies than you realize.

John and Jingles on Sunday, two days before she died. John, who is autistic, adored Jingles.

Years ago I heard Garrison Keillor recite a poem called “In Memory of our Cat, Ralph,” in which he recounted the passing of his own beloved feline friend. The line I remember most was something about “that warm weight missing from our laps.” As I sat there holding my recently departed kitty, the dread of burying her grew exponentially with each passing moment. Because once she was off my lap I’d never feel that sensation again. Only cat people understand that every cat feels different, and Jingles felt the best of all. Her fur was warm and dense, and she purred so deeply that she practically vibrated. Sometimes I swear she'd purr so hard her whiskers would shake. And more often than not when I looked down at her she’d be staring at me through half-opened lids, her blue eyes telegraphing the message, “This is nice.”

And it was. It was so nice.

Larry came back in before I was ready, but even if he’d spent the day digging no time would have really been right for what I now had to do.

“OK,” he said and I stood, cradling Jinges with those homemade cards still stuck between her paws. My legs felt shaky and my stomach hurt from grief as I walked outside.

Alex had lined the grave with a piece of pink netting that she'd found. The dark of the soil was visible through the netting, and when I laid Jingles down the light parts of her fur looked so bright against the darkness of the hole. For a moment I wanted to pick her up, to hold her just one more time. But I didn’t. I'd had my goodbye, had been able to hold her and comfort her as she slipped away. She'd given me that, and I was grateful.

So I knelt, crying, and scattered soil over her body until I couldn’t see her any more. Larry finished filling the grave, tears running down his face as he finished burying the cat he’d joked would never die.

I won’t go into all the other things I’ll miss about Jingles. We give our pets voices and personalities and Jingles talked to us – or through us – so much that it’s going to be hard to get out of character. Or to get the character of her out of us. Last year I even made her an ordained minister.

It’s almost nine o’clock now, Jingles has been dead a full three hours and I’m sitting here watching this litter of farm cats we took in rip around the living room. There are four of them, and last week we added a fifth kitten someone had dumped in our ditch – a coal black kitty we dubbed Pookah. Today is the day I’ll put them all on Craigslist so they’ll get a chance to become beloved pets, to hopefully bring someone the joy that Jingles gave me.

“You could keep one,” Alex suggested this morning when I was asking myself out loud what the hell I was going to do now that Jingles was gone. “You could find the one that likes to sit in your lap and keep that one.”

If it could only be that simple, but cats are like people. They just can’t be replaced and I’m quite sure I’ll never find another one like Jingles. But that’s OK. Having just one Jingles in my life was probably more than I deserved anyway.

So now, with an empty lap and a heavy heart, I move ahead. Because that’s really all I can do.

Update: It's occurred to me that this may be my Most Depressing Post Ever. My beloved Andrea has informed me that it made her cry, which was not my intention. I'm sure the Dead Kitty pictures didn't help. So for balance here are some awesome pictures from when Jingles was alive and doing what she did best - terrifying Frodo the Dachshund and then Making Nice with him.

For Andrea...

2008-10-11T16:56:00.001-07:00

...in response to her post pondering why someone would let Obama hold their babies.

Yeah, he looks old enough to send to Iraq!

Slogans to stick with

2008-10-10T07:23:00.000-07:00

Election Day may be less than a month away, but it's still not too late for you to support your candidate with a bumper stickers. The Landover Baptist store has some awesome ones, and I've selected a few to show you here.

Now, I know that you McCain-Palin supporters are probably too busy preparing for the rapture to shop for bumper stickers, which is why I went ahead and selected some that I think will appeal to you, the true GOP base:

Sometimes, when Sarah Palin is winking at the camera and I get the feeling that the wink was just for me, or when McCain says, "My friend," and I believe that that's just for me, too, I fancy switching sides. If I do, then I'm considering these bumper stickers.

No matter which candidate you support, this one is one-size-fits-all.

And finally, I like this one so much that I almost which McCain had picked Romney just so I could put it on my car:

But then I see McCain's poll numbers and think, "No, actually I'm glad he picked Sarah."

Pot, meet kettle

2008-10-09T11:20:00.000-07:00

Hmmm. If Sarah Palin loves America so darn much then why do she and her husband support a group that can't wait to get the hell out of it?

Maybe Todd thinks that if Alaskans secede, they'll make Sarah their queen. Then he can be king and they can name their next baby Prince Moosekill Beyond-the-Palin.

Oh, irony, thy name is McCain's Vagina.

Spanking New Blog

2008-10-09T09:22:00.000-07:00

Today I'm announcing a new blog.

It won't supplant this one; the Token Hippie isn't going anywhere. No, this one is quite different. It's an erotic blog entitled Naughty Bits and will feature short, erotic stories, select soft-core photos and artwork book reviews and even some literary challenges from time to time.

I just put up my first post called "Cherry." No, it's probably not what you think. But with me things rarely are.

Oh, and to those of you scandalized by the photo? That's an orchid. Damn you and our dirty mind.

For perfectly understandable reasons, it will be by invitation only. So if you want to become a reader just email me at thetokenhippie@gmail.com and ask.

For understandable reasons, I'm going to make it by invitation only, so if you want to become a reader, you'll have to email me and ask. Just drop me a line at thetokenhippie@gmail.com

Horsing Around, Part IV

2008-10-08T18:59:00.001-07:00

Our instructor Stephanie came to us today for our first lessons on Lumos and Oliver. When your instructor tells you that you've bought a Good Horse you know you chose well. Lumos was on his best behavior today. We did walk, trot canter and Stephanie was impressed not only with his willingness but the fact that he also knows his leads.

Lumos' former owner had him jumping small cavalettis, but it's been awhile. Today Stephanie had me try taking him some ground poles and cross rails. If you're wondering why there are no pictures, it's because they were all embarrassing. We think Lumos has the potential to do some jumping, but as far as he's concerned if barreling through the jumps gets you to the other side as effectively as jumping, why leave the ground?

I finally did get him to do a short course, but it was kind of sloppy. He's much more graceful at the trot and canter. I really think he'd make a better dressage horse, but we're going to work on a little jumping as well, just to see how he does.

Alex's pony Oliver is a hunter and has shown competitively. He can jump, but his problem is that he is lazy. Today he plodded along and plowed through jumps to the point that Alex was close to tears. When I decided I couldn't stand it anymore, I put her up on Lumos, hopped on Oliver and made him do the course. After he'd jumped two fences like he was supposed to, I put Alex back on him and he did this for her:

Oliver is a sweetheart; you couldn't ask for a nicer pony with better ground manners. But he's a pony and will get away with what you let him. Stephanie thinks I should ride him at the beginning of each lesson to send the message that he has to work by the time Alex gets on him.

Tomorrow it's supposed to rain. Ugh. Hopefully it'll be out of here by the weekend and we can do a bit more flatwork with the boys. In the meantime, they're getting a well-deserved break. They both did well this week, and we're pleased.

Hippie vs. Cowboy

2008-10-08T09:44:00.002-07:00

Over at Digital Cowboy’s place, he’s taken me to task for a comment I made about Obama. I mean, he’s really taken me to task. In fact, he’s all but gone McCain on me, not that I mind.

Digital Cowboy is a nice guy. I like him. But he’s really typical of the conservatives I deal with on a daily basis. So I’ve posted his assertions below along with my responses for those of you who may be interested.

Cowboy Assertion #1: The media is “fixing this election” for Obama. 

Is Fox news included in there? Before Palin even made the ridiculous point that living next door to Russia gave her foreign policy experience, Steve Doocy said it. If she’s taking her talking points from that clown then that is Reason 4,560 not to vote for her. Fox has done everything to prop McCain up besides roll out a walker for him to hold onto. 

And Fox needs to get off the “We’re-Not-The-Mainstream-Media” line. How can they crow about record viewership and then claim not to be mainstream? Pffft. There’s plenty of bias out there, but it cuts both ways. 

Cowboy Assertion #2: Obama is unqualified to be president and is only where he is because he’s only good at public speaking...

…and yet Palin, while being more unqualified to be president, is where she is despite the fact that she can hardly speak at all. Wow. Jesus must really love her.

 Cowboy Assertion #3: Obama is not American.

 I assume you’ve fallen for the line that being Truly American means being a cheerleader for every blundering, heavy-handed, meddlesome foray we’ve made into the affairs of other nations. If that’s what it takes to be an American, then I’m not American, either. 

Over and over the McCain-Palin crowd say, “They hate us because we’re free.” No they don’t. They hate us because we don’t know enough to keep our nose out of everyone else’s business. 

And as far as being un-American, if Obama is, then he should go out drinking with Todd Palin. I mean, we need to get those two together. Todd was affiliated with the Alaskan Independence Party, which favored the state’s secession from the union. I’m not sure how you square loving America with wanting to get the fuck out of it.

Who knows, maybe Todd though that if Alaska broke away they’d make his wife queen. And then he could be king. And their next kid could be called Prince Moosekill Beyond The Palin or something like that. 

Cowboy Assertion #4: Obama loves abortion and it’s the only thing he’s ever taken a stand for. 

Ahem. Um. I love it when you guys do this because I don’t see conservatives as pro-life so much as “pro-birth.” Conservatives love to see babies born. They love it so much that conservatives like Palin oppose sex-ed being taught in schools, although she did favor firearms courses being taught. So while they can learn how to handle the urge to hunt, they remain ignorant about how to handle the urge to hump. The result: Bristol Palin. 

McCain favored insurance companies covering Viagra but not birth control for women. Nope, no inconsistencies there. Obama has said numerous times that he wants to see the number of abortions go down. That doesn’t sound like a man who wants to bathe in the blood of dead babies. But the only way to reduce the abortion rate is for there to be fewer unplanned pregnancies. 

I have to wonder too, if you pro-birthers love babies so much then why do most of you favor reductions in programs that provide prenantal care and medical care for young families that can’t afford it? Obama favors both. McCain wants to give each infant born a tiny pair of bootstraps to pull itself up by.  

Cowboy Assertion #5: Barack Obama has no experience, while Sarah Palin has actually done, uh, stuff. 

OK, I admit it. When it comes to playing the flute and working as a sportscaster, my homey Barack got nothing on your peep Sarah. Let’s see if I can find any other contrasts. Here’s one: before spending eight years in his state’s senate before being voted into the US sentate, Obama practiced civil rights law. That probably required him to have some awareness of the constitution, which Palin probably doesn’t include in her “vast” list of reading materials. I kind of get the impression that she might be the type who thinks her interpretation of God’s law supercedes man’s. I prefer my presidents not to think that way when it comes to running the U.S. 

Obama also happened to work as a community organizer, which I personally applaud. Somehow, Palin’s work on the PTA is seen as more significant, although I can’t see how. 

Cowboy Assertion #6: Sarah Palin is a setback for women the way Reagan was a setback for actors.

 Are you serious? Really? If Reagan championed policies most actors found damaging or regressive to actor’s rights and was so ill-spoken, clichéd and dim that other actors cringed at having him represent them, then I could buy your argument. But even conservative women in the GOP like National Review columnist Kathleen Parker have suggested that Palin is a disaster. When McCain had real choices like Christie Todd-Whitman or Meg Whitman, for him to choose someone like Palin is puzzling at best and disturbing at worst. 

Cowboy Assertion #7: McCain was in the military, so he must love his country more.

So was Jack Murtha, and I’ve seen that man called everything but the anti-Christ for opposing the war.

The truth is, Cowboy, both McCain and Obama love their country. No one runs for president and puts themselves through what the race entails unless they do. But Obama loves this country enough to realize that the middle class is being left in the dust by these corporate robber barons and that our intrusive, heavy-handed, inflexible foreign policy decisions have brought trouble to our door.

McCain is old guard. People are tired of that, and that is why Obama will win the election.  If he does, we’ll see whether the people who claim to love this country will love it enough to get behind him. If something happens and McCain wins, despite my threats to move to Canada, I’ll get behind him and will stay behind him unless he fucks up W-style.

I don’t think you can really love your country and want the president who takes over to fail, especially in time of crisis. 

Do you?

Initial post-debate impressions

2008-10-07T20:39:00.000-07:00

I want to get John McCain a bowl of soup. I want to tell him that it's going to be OK as I get him settled into his chair and carefully tuck the napkin into his shirt collar.

I want to tell him that there's no need to be so angry and confused, that no one probably even noticed when he forgot that guy's name who asked him that question about the economy, appeared to forget the question itself and then misidentified the job description of Gen. David Patraeus, who is not the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

I want to tell him that his opponent, you know - T hat One - probably won't really see any benefit from keeping his cool, addressing his questioners succinctly while remembering their names and admitting that he doesn't understand why the fuck we invaded a country that didn't attack us on 9/11.

I want to lift a spoonful of warm pea soup to McCain's trembling lips, look into his confused eyes and tell him that soon, very soon, this whole nasty election will be a think of the past. Oh yes it will. And then he and that woman he chose as a running mate - the one whose name he also apparently forgot tonight -can go back home. And then he can finally have a nap.

So that was my initial impression and all I can say on it. Because I must rest up for my next challenge tomorrow, which will be to answer this post from Digital Cowboy who, while a perfectly nice guy, has made it obvious in the third comment of said post that he has never had sex with a woman who rides horses.

How to call a campaign office

2008-10-07T06:31:00.000-07:00

Cheery Volunteer: Good afternoon, Elizabeth Dole Campaign Headquarters.

Me: Hello. I'm an independent voter and I'm calling to verify whether a flyer I received today was endorsed by Mrs. Dole's campaign.

Cheery Volunteer: OK

Me: It says "Godless American pac wants to remove 'under God' from the Pledge of Allegiance and now they want Kay Hagan in the U.S. Senate. Does the Dole campaign support the message of that flyer?

Cheery Volunteer: Yes, it does.

Me: Wow! What a relief! Because I just want you to know that this flyer has helped me make up my mind as an independent voter.

Cheery Volunteer: Really? Thats great!

Me: Yes, because I could never vote for any candidate who would send this kind of nonsensical crap to voters. This is swill. It's fear-mongering swill, and shows the mentality of a candidate and political party that would rather exploit religious differences than address the issues that voters really care about, like this tanking economy. So I'm voting for Kay Hagan.

Cheery Volunteer: What? Uh...I mean...Can I?

Me: No. There's really nothing you can do, unless you want to advise your candidate to stop letting fringe elements run her campaign. It's a real turn-off to us independents. Everybody loves to say "God Bless America," but it's been said God helps those who help themselves. If Senator Dole wants to do something truly righteous, maybe she could start with doing her job because it sure looks like she and her colleagues have been asleep at the switch. Thanks for your time, and have a good day.

Click

Horsing Around, Part III

2008-10-05T19:08:00.000-07:00

The cool thing about having a blog without a defined agenda is that I can write whatever suits me. One day that might be an analysis of our current political situation, the next it might be something about one of my personal interests. Guess which one you get today?

So last month our awesome new neighbor, who knew I was looking for a roomier place to board my horses, offered to let me use her acreage. She moved down here from California last year and has six fenced acres but no horses. She loves horses - loves to look at them, photograph them, pet them. But she doesn't want the hassle of owning one and thought it would be perfect if I put mine at her place.

Naturally I jumped at her offer and today agreed it's a win-win for both of us. She has three separate fenced paddocks and since the first of September we've been mowing and repairing fences as we started moving the ponies over. We put the geldings in the three acre pasture and they love it. We haven't moved the small mares over yet; there's a lot more involved in moving horses to new pasture than just throwing them on it. When the mares are finally moved, they'll be in the middle pasture, which is about an acre. The slightly larger front paddock we use for riding. It has enough room for groundwork and jumping.

All the work of moving our horses has left us little time to ride them. Most of what you've seen here have been pictures and videos of us on our instructor's lesson horses. If it seems odd that we have spent more time riding someone else's horses than our own, it's only because it is. I've felt especially bad that we haven't been exercising Oliver, Alex's pony, although the up side is that the experience she's gained at riding school has really prepared him to handle him.

I saw today how the lessons have helped. Alex is so confident now, and wasn't even flustered when Oliver got balky or decided he'd rather go to the gate than work.

Alex discovered that when sufficiently motivated, he has a wonderful canter. He'd actually rather canter than trot, and Alex and I both agreed after riding him that he's got the most comfortable canter of any horse either of us have ridden.

I was so proud of Alex's riding ability, and think that her little brother Lucas could easily ride Oliver when and if he ever develops an interest in riding. Oliver is a very laid back little horse.

After we finished exercising Oliver, I took him back to the pasture he shares with Lucas' impish Shetland pony, Rob Roy, and my new horse.

Which reminds me: It's occurred to me that I forgot to give everyone my Big News. Remember my neighbor's beautiful Haflinger pony - the one I had fallen so in love with? I bought him from her last month! He's fabulous, and is as sweet as he is beautiful. I named him "Lumos Maxiums." Lumos, for short.

It was late today when we went out to exercise Oliver, so I didn't plan on having time to ride both horses. But when I took Oliver back to the round pen to cool down, Lumos watched me take the bridle off and stood there as if to say, "Can I wear it?"

He stood perfectly when I walked over and I slipped it on. Since he was bridled I thought, "Why not?" and hopped up for a bareback ride.

Haflingers are stocky little horses, and are built kind of like sofas. I could have ridden Lumos all day, but by that time it was getting late so I hopped off.

We're going riding again tomorrow. I can't wait!!

We love our lesson horses, but have decided than now that everything is in order (almost) at the new farm where our ponies are staying that we'd rather have the instructor come out here and give us lessons on our own horses.

The "boys" are so willing that we have high hopes for all the things we have planned for them. We'd love to take one or both to the November show. It may be a bit ambitious, but you never know. Either way, I'll keep you posted.

Go see this movie

2008-10-04T00:06:00.000-07:00

Normally I don't post in the wee hours of the morning, but Larry and I just got back from meeting some friends in Raleigh and I could not turn in without recommending the documentary we went to see.

It's called Religulous, and if you are a thinking person who sometimes finds yourself puzzled over the crazy, outrageous or dangerous stuff religious people think and do, then do yourself a favor - find the nearest theatre showing this film and go. Today.

Given the nature of Religulous, most people who want to see it will already agree with its premise, which is that religion is a kooky and can even be damaging. But it's not the non-choir this documentary needs to preach to. Believers really need to go see this movie. So when you go, try to take along one of your fundamentalist friends.

Now, be advised that this fundamentalist friend will initially balk, tell you that Bill Maher is evil and say that they refuse to support his work. If they do, offer to buy their ticket. If they still refuse, call them a pussy - or better yet, a gay pussy - and taunt them until they agree to go. I guarantee that once in the theater, even they will end up laughing at some point, no matter how far that God-stick is shoved up their ass.

This move was the funniest thing I have ever seen. Some have accused Bill Maher of poking fun at religion, but the beauty of this movie is that it's the very religious people who hand him the stick. The statements made by the Believers themselves are their undoing; all Maher does is ask the questions - both of his interview subjects and of the audience. Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Mormonism, Scientology - few religions are spared.

It's hard to say which part was my favorite, but I think it may have been the interview with the ex-gay Christian who tried to convince Bill Maher that he wasn't born that way.

There are a lot of atheists out there who take themselves way too seriously and who engage religious people - especially Christians - in long-winded, arrogance-fueled debates about the existence of God. Those people are on a fool's errand. Condescend to religious people, tell them they are stupid and that God isn't real and they'll only roll up like some righteous armadillo.

The existence of God isn't really so much the issue, anyway. There's no way to prove or disprove the existence of God. The real issue is the existence of the mindset that invented religion, the mindset that fuels it and keeps it going. Bill Maher does a masterful job at exposing that mindset for what it is, and asking the questions that will spark healthy doubt in anyone who isn't afraid to consider them.

If you're not religious, Religulous will simply reinforce what you already believe. If you are, it may make you think. And even if you don't agree, by thinking then you've at least you will have taken a step in the right direction.

Doggone it to heck, she did it

2008-10-03T06:42:00.000-07:00

Palin survived the debate. And because she didn't fall off the stage or set her hair on fire, she's even being declared the winner in some quarters. Over at FOX News they are already summoning a flight of angels to carry her to a golden throne at the right hand of Jesus, where she and that old guy she's running with - his name escapes me at the moment - will rule for 10,000 years. Verily.

Serioulsy, though, McCain's Vagina did not flub the debate. Instead, using a blend of folksiness and cliches, she managed to sound reasonably coherent. Her handlers did the right thing by having her take the offense; they knew Biden had too much class to give her a smack-down, given that he's against Violence to Women and all.

The result: Palin came across as Tough, even if it was the Cutesy Variety of Tough. After the debate, MSNBC's Newsweek contributer Howard Fineman likened Palin's performance to "a wolverine attacking the pant leg of a passerby."

For those who are voting based on nothing more than a Tingly Conservative Feeling, McCain's Vagina rewarded them with spasms of pure Neanderthal pleasure. After a disheartening week, they finally have their mojo back. Yeah, baby!

But for those of us looking for more information on Palin's policy positions, well, I'm afraid we're going to need more than her showing us what a Maverick she is by refusing to answer questions.

I'd like to see more interviews, although I can understand why McCain's Vagina is reluctant to give them. Journalists like to pin politicians to the mat and press for answers. It's not so easy to wink and grin your way out of an interview.

And I never though I'd do this, but I am going say that I understand why Palin may refuse to sit down with another journalist. This morning, MSNBC's Joe Scarborough passionately - and fairly - observed that the disastrous CBS interview was leaked out in dribs and drabs over the last week, leaving the impression that Palin was repeatedly screwing up when it was really just in one interview. Now, granted, the interview was still telling; Palin came across as completely unfit for the job she's been tapped to do, but releasing portions of the interview like that in run-up to the debate was kind of dirty pool when you think about it.

Scarborough said every Republican since Ike has been painted as a buffoon. Ford was a klutz, Reagan was nothing but an idiot actor, Quayle was stupid, Bush was a moron. He said the media is doing the same thing with Palin. He doesn't think it's fair.

And it may not be fair, which is why we need to all cut through the media spin on both sides and really listen to these people. If you did that last night, you didn't see anything impressive from Palin, unless you're impressed by a woman who can wink and talk at the same time.

And poor Biden. Despite the fact that he responded to every question with facts and made his points and rebutted hers, this morning the nation is sitting around celebrating the mediocrity of the candidate who really did neither.

Halloween prep time!

2008-10-02T17:03:00.000-07:00

My totally cool new friend Christopher got me very excited yesterday when he put up a marvelous post about Halloween. I love Halloween. Just love it. Celebrating the darker aspects of life and, yes, even Death, is exciting. It makes us a little less afraid of the unknown, and reminds us to appreciate being on this side of the grave. For now.

Dressing up? Well, that's just icing on the cake. I'm always on the lookout for the Perfect Halloween Outfit, so in January (yes, January) when I found this awesome dress I instantly thought, "Vampire Wedding Party." I mean, it's perfect - black, clingy and it cinches down the front. How cool is that? Larry took this shot of me today out back, modeling said dress.

And yes, my lovelies, that is a real cauldron to the right. It's my cauldron. So there.

The Vampire Wedding Party will likely be a family dress-up event, with Larry as my groom, my older sons as groomsmen, my daughters as zombie bridesmaids and darling Lucas as a ghoulish ringbearer. The ring he carries will still be attached to a severed finger.

So after shooting me in the dress, Larry thought it might be cool to get a few shots of me with one of our spider friends before they die of exposure. The temperatures are dropping into the forties here tonight and our lovely tropical Nephila probably won't survive the chill. I found one right away, and thinks she went quite nicely with my tattoo!

Spiders are so cool. I love them, and will miss ours when they die off this year. For those of you who may have missed the video Larry shot of our collecting expedition earlier this summer, here it is:

I caught the spiders at my friend April's house. This Halloween I'll be spending lots of time at April's. We're putting together a Haunted Trail through her woods for Halloween and are going All Out.

Yes, there is so much ghoulishness to look forward to. Speaking of which, the VP debate is about to begin. I hope that Palin continues to exceed my expectations as she has done all wee. Because if she does McCain will go down in flames. That would be sweet, because a McCain-Palin administration? Now that is scary.

Anyway, I'll have plenty to say tomorrow about the debate, not matter how McCain's Vagina performs.

Just call me Snow White

2008-10-01T12:14:00.000-07:00

Geesh. I just threatened to do this if McCain wins.

Not so original after all....

2008-09-30T18:00:00.001-07:00

Don't you just hate it when you have this really brilliant idea and before you can do something with it you find out that someone already has?

When I saw McCain's Vagina interviewed by Katie Couric, my first impression was WTF? My second was, "Hey, she reminds me of someone? But who?"

Then two questions later I knew. McCain's Vagina reminded me of Miss South Carolina 2007, also known as the Such-As-Maps Girl.

Tonight I was going to sit down and do a montage of Miss South Carolina and Sarah Palin, but when I went to YouTube to get footage of them guess what I found? No, go on. Guess.

That's right. Someone had already beat me to the punch.

At first I was bummed. But then I thought, "Hey, if someone else had this idea it means that lots of people have, which means that more people are catching on to the fact that the woman McCain chose to be second in line to the presidency bears a strong intellectual resemblance to an idiot beauty queen who can't answer a simple question.

Sweet.

Thanks for the traffic, Nate

2008-09-29T19:38:00.000-07:00

And thanks for the picture, too.

In the future, if you want readers to be "discreet" then spell it right, Ass Hat.

Was it just me...

2008-09-27T08:37:00.000-07:00

....or did McCain come across during last night's debate as the grumpy neighbor who was going to just lose it if those goddamned kids threw their frisbee in his yard one more time?

I thought Obama came across as reasoned and reasonable, and treated McCain as any polite young man would treat a cranky senior who insisted on calling him a whippersnapper while recalling how he had to trudge five miles through the snow to go to school. Only instead of "whippersnapper," McCain used he word "naive" and instead of snow he made reference to his days as a POW. (Because, you know, he's really the only one who's ever fought for you....)

I was really surprised to see the pundits giving such McCain high marks after the debate, and it's not just because I don't want to see McCain and his Vagina win the election. I have to wonder if the media is just being kind because they know that the vice presidential debate is going to be so disastrous for McCain's Vagina that they'll be accused of Liberal Favoritism for calling it correctly. Well, all except for Fox News, which will declare victory for Sarah Palin even if Bristol breaks down halfway through the event and runs across the stage screaming, "Mama, give me back my baby!"

Preacher touches McCain's Vagina

2008-09-24T13:06:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Audrey over at Sarah Palin's Lies for alerting me to this video. Move it ahead and about seven minutes in you'll see Kenyan Witch-Hunter and True Christian™ Thomas Muthee praying over the woman McCain has tapped to be second in command, should he and his herd of melanomas make it into the Oval Office.

I'm not sure how this video will play with the GOP. There's sure to be a conflict among some on the Christian Right when they see a black man putting his hands all over McCain's Wholesome White Vagina. Muthee even went all the way and anointed her, which is apparently what they call putting a woman in raptures when God says it's OK.

As I've said before, I know you crazy right-wingers still read over here and I invite you to either post or email me privately and tell me how this isn't completely insane. I dare you. I dee-double-dare you. But I won't expect a response. There's no way any of you can defend something you secretly know is just plain nuts.

Oh, and for those of you still pretending to back Palin for her political acumen, I have a question for you: Does being spiritually groped by the head of a Kenyan witch-hunting cult count as foreign policy experience?

For more on this video, go to this piece on the Huffington Post.

Goodbye, Bane...

2008-09-23T05:47:00.000-07:00

Bane of Bane Rants is dead. And apparently, this time, he's not faking it.

Over the past few years Bane and I shared four civil messages - one each left on our respective blogs and the other two via private email. All had to do with our kids, both of us being the parents of a special needs child.

Our other exchanges were all Slash and Burn and I thoroughly enjoyed ever moment of our verbal battles, especially since he got so delightfully wound up.

Bane was a paradox, and no matter what one thought of his personal writing style, his blog always made for an interesting read because of the man behind the words. He was tortured, spiteful, hateful and small-minded, but also content, loyal, big-hearted and introspective. And never, ever have I seen someone balance insecurity and egotism so well in one space.

I will miss Bane's schizophrenic nature, but not as much as I'll miss his honesty. Poor health forced him to ponder his own mortality and he did this publicly and often in a raw, emotional way that was beautiful and painful to behold.

His family was his pride, and if he had one fear it was how they would fare without him. I hope they will all be fine, and my sincerest condolences go out to "the wife," Nat and Johnny during this difficult time.

I'm sure he'd appreciate knowing that, given how much the guy loved Hippies....

Saturday horse show

2008-09-21T07:03:00.001-07:00

In a word, it was awesome. Alex and I took home five ribbons between us, including a surprise second-place ribbon for me and Duchess!

But the sense of accomplishment I brought home from coming back from my accident to ride competitively was even more satisfying.

And then it just got weird....

2008-09-17T06:10:00.000-07:00

When I sat down to write this post this morning, I thought of ways I could frame it in an amusing fashion. But then I realized the topic needed no help. Sarah Palin is now officially funnier than any joke about her could possibly be.

Apparently, McCain's Vagina says prayer led to her gubernatorial victory, but not just any prayer. The prayer she credits for winning her Alaska's top political post came from a Kenyan Witch Hunter named Thomas Muthee.

From the U.K. Times Online:

The pastor whose prayer Sarah Palin says helped her to become governor of Alaska founded his ministry with a witchhunt against a Kenyan woman who he accused of causing car accidents through demonic spells.

In the first portion of this YouTube video, you can listen to McCain's Vagina tell her fellow wing-nut church members how Muthee laid hands on her and prayed:

Oh boy....

The UK Times article is full of other really interesting stuff about Muthee, including how he brilliantly linked the close proximity of a fortune teller called Mama Jane to the site of several fatal car crashes, thereby deducing that witchcraft and not, say, bad driving, was to blame for the deaths.

Now, I know I still have fundamentalist Christian readers here. And I know they think I'm picking on them and their crazy-ass brethren, which I am. But take heart; regardless of what they think of me, they're going to love the way this story ends:

According to accounts of the witchhunt circulated on evangelical websites such as Prayer Links Ministries, after Pastor Muthee declared Mama Jane a witch, the townspeople became suspicious and began to turn on her, demanding that she be stoned. Public outrage eventually led the police to raid her home, where they fired gunshots, killing a pet python which they believed to be a demon.

After Mama Jane was questioned by police – and released – she decided it was time to leave town, the account says.

Whew. That was close. But in the end, the village was shed of both the witch and her Satanic Snake. And all thanks to the holy efforts of the man whose prayers Sarah Palin says put her in the Alaskan governor's chair.

McCain's Vagina is turning out to be a fundamentalist throwback's wet dream. This woman is beyond old-fashioned, she's positively Medieval!

But there is a serious side to all this. Early this morning I found this disturbing photo taken from a McCain/Palin rally:

I don't know why John McCain was wearing the funny hat, but there you go. Look for a similar rally to come to a town near you. And remember, True Christians, if you donate $25 or more at the rally, you'll not only get your own copy of the Malleus Maleficarum but a bottle of holy water drawn from one of Alaska's virgin springs, and by virgin spring we mean one the Palins' teen daughters have not yet used for skinny dipping.

On a serious note, this does not bode well for those of us who are of an Esoteric Bent, spiritually speaking. The fundamentalists here in the U.S. have whipped themselves into such a frenzy of late that they are a hair's breadth away from adopting the same intolerant mob mentality Muthee was able to muster in Kenya.

Perhaps I should start hiding all those unusual bottles of stuff I have sitting around, or at least keep my non-traditional reading material on the shelf with the spines facing backwards. And would anyone like a black cat? I may need to find her a new home. No need to arouse suspicion, especially given that a kid wrecked less than a mile from my house last weekend.

But even if I did try and blend in, would I really be safe? I kind of doubt it. The Witch Hunters are coming, and regardless of what I do, by the time they find me I'll still weigh more than a duck.

Fun with a side of serious

2008-09-16T06:08:00.000-07:00

Alex and I have a horse show on Saturday, and yesterday was our last lesson before we compete in our second CCHA event. I'll be jumping a couple of courses competitively at the show, and can only hope it goes better than our last session at the barn.

Even though our instructor assured me I did well, I didn't feel like I did. Duchess was doing her typical Speed Demon thing, and I kept a tighter rein to keep her from rushing the course I was riding. She didn't like that and responded by bucking, which you can see her do about eight seconds into the video. She would have done more of that nonsense if I'd let her, but in order to buck a horse has to be able to get its head down. See how Duchess holds her head so high? It's not her natural head carriage. Her head is high because I'm holding it up to keep her from pitching me off.

Alex practiced mainly on the flat yesterday. She is getting so, so good. Her hands and seat are so much steadier. I'm really proud of her, especially since riding Stormy is like riding a pogo stick. How she's making it look so easy I'll never know.

And yes, I know the song is a weird choice for the video but I just used it because I liked it. For those who are curious, the group is Cake and the song is Comfort Eagle.

On a more serious note, I've been keeping an ear out for the news on the financial markets this morning.

I'm not going to profess to have a grasp on the topic of economics, and when trying to makes sense of news of Wall Street troubles like this I look for simple explanations. This morning I found a wonderful interview that explains how Bush's brilliant vision of the "Ownership Society" led to what we're seeing today.

After seeing Naomi Klein interviewed, I'm interested in reading her book The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism. Like Chalmer Johnson's Blowback, it's the kind of book that people need to read in order to balance all the GOP crap we're told about the supposed superiority of doing things the Right Way, both here and abroad.

Exposing McCain's Vagina

2008-09-15T07:31:00.000-07:00

Sarah Palin at 26 weeks pregnant? Is it true? Inquiring minds should want to know.

I admit it. The header on this post is tacky. But given that McCain is refusing to go anywhere without his new Vagina, Sarah Palin, I don't see why I can't continue the theme here. I mean, really. If he can flash his Vagina at every campaign stop, is it really so wrong for bloggers to take a poke at it?

McCain is clearly trying to capitalize on the Vagina Mania that has resulted from the Palin Pick. He is flaunting his Vagina everywhere, and acts all indignant when someone rubs it the wrong way. This is a departure from the standard thinking of the Conservative Male, who has always implied that anyone showing off their Vagina is just asking for it.

The GOP can't expect to have it both ways. On one hand, they are telling us what a tough cookie Sarah Palin is, even as they try to shield her with the other. The security around McCain's Vagina is tighter than a chastity belt.

She's hardly allowed out alone, and the media deserves a rap on the knuckles for being afraid to look mean by asking the hard questions about what little they know. Take for instance this whole business of Sarah Palin's five month old baby. When it was implied that the child might actually be her daughter Bristol's, the cry of outrage was deafening.

"Of course that baby came out of McCain's Vagina!" they insisted.

After all, how dare anyone suggest that a fundamentalist Christian, anti-abortion, abstinence-advocating, Republican politician would attempt to pass off her daughter's pregnancy as her own to save political face.

How dare they suggest that said politician's visual absence of a pregnancy until the surprise last minute announcement, combined with said daughter's eight-month absence from school be anything more than a coincidence!

How dare anyone be so cynical as to doubt that a politician hungering for the second highest post in the land would cover something like that up!

God forbid someone actually examine the whole situation in detail! To do so would be to risk being called a sexist. Or worse, mean!

It would take a brave person indeed to examine these allegations. Unfortunately, you won't find anyone like that in the media, which is handling McCain's Vagina with a kid glove, as opposed to the standard latex.

But today someone sent me a link to a Web site that has finally done what the media is failing to do - take a good hard look at the possibility that Sarah Palin may not be Trig's mother, but his grandmother.

The Web site is www.palindeception.com and I insist that you visit it, because you'll find analysis and questions regarding this situation that you won't find anywhere else. The authors are not crackpots; they are a husband and wife team who have some knowledge to back up their suspicions. The woman is a mother and lactation counselor, her husband a physician. Both allow for the fact that Palin may be telling the truth, while examining facts that look very sketchy when you take them as a whole.

To those of you who think my posting this is just awful, awful, awful let me just ask you to consider this: PalinDeception.com raises some very good questions that need to be addressed. If Sarah Palin lied about giving birth to Trig, it is no small thing. It is huge. Because a person who would implement this kind of cover-up - a person this willing to sacrifice principle for power - is capable of doing anything to keep that power.

And we know what we call that kind of person, don't we?

That's right. We call them Karl Rove.

Think about it. Study up. And don't be afraid to question, even if the media is.

Cedric (He's adopted.)

2008-09-12T11:08:00.000-07:00

McCain's Vagina

2008-09-03T21:29:00.001-07:00

There are millions of Vaginas in the United States. John McCain only needed one. He could have had almost any Vagina he wanted. But he chose first-term Alaskan governor Sarah Palin’s.

Having a Vagina was apparently the only qualification needed for the position of Vagina Person - V.P. for short. With his choice, McCain demonstrated that as far as he’s concerned one Vagina is as good as the next. After all, in the Sacred Sisterhood of Vaginas, things like experience, policy positions and basic knowledge of foreign policy don’t matter. We can’t bother our pretty little heads with those things, not with all those cookies to bake.

We just need to know one thing: Do you, my dear, have a Vagina? You do? Well then, you automatically have our vote.

Not.

Hey McCain, I’ve got a little something to tell you. You called this one so wrong, because the Sisterhood does care about whether a candidate is qualified and most of us would rather have a Qualified Dick in office than an Unqualified Vagina. If it was a matter of being appeased by seeing you take the stage with someone wearing a skirt, a lot of us would have been happier if you’d shown up with Lieberman in drag. Some of us might have even considered voting for you if you'd shown that kind of bravery, rather than the tuck-tail pandering you've exhibited with this choice.

Because Palin? WTF?

I listened to her present her Vagina Monologue tonight at the GOP convention. She said all the right things to appease the base, to be sure. God, guns, God, military, God, offshore drilling, God, values, God tax breaks, God…God knows she excited the crowd, especially the Conservative Republican Vaginas. And I’m thinking she deserves some credit for that, if nothing else, because it probably takes a lot to excite a Conservative Republican Vagina.

McCain's Vagina Person Nominee didn’t say much about her experience, although she did highlight her term as a small town mayor. That’s cool. By her criteria the mayor of my town is qualified to be McCain’s running mate. We’d have to stuff him in a suit, of course, make him shave and take away his chewing tobacco. But once that was done he’d make a great addition to the ticket.

Wait...No he wouldn’t. He doesn’t have a Vagina. But Palin does, so despite the fact that she has zero experience in anything beyond running a state where moose outnumber people, that Vagina apparently makes her qualified to be one metastasized melanoma away from the Oval Office.

And that’s supposed to make all the other Vaginas happy enough to vote for McCain. Maybe to lock in the Vag Vote he’ll go even further and promise that when his swollen left gland explodes and Palin’s left in charge she can call her base of operations the Ovary Office.

And the world will be lovely then. With Palin at the helm we can finally take away that pesky right to choose so that Vaginas everywhere can start popping out babies, whether they want them or not. It doesn’t matter that the economy will still favor the rich. Conservative Vaginas - and Dicks - love the idea of babies - up until some of those little Gifts From God start needing money for things like food and health care.

If the babies do survive, their reward will be to go to school and learn all about how Jesus created the whole world in seven days and miracled humanity into existence, gloriously forming the first Vagina out of the rib of her master, Man. And because Palin favors teaching teenagers gun safety but is against sex-ed, they'll be taught how to handle the urge to hunt while being kept ignorant about how to handle the urge to hump. (Apparently it's mean to mention that her pregnant teen daughter could be a poster child for that philosophy, so I won't.)

Oh, but there’s that whole foreign threat thing. ....We didn't hear much about that tonight, for good reason. Dear God, if Palin is elected and we’re invaded please, please, please let it be by moose, since that’s about the only threat she’s proven herself capable of handling.

Wait..I’m wrong again. That Dick Steve Doocy of Fox News pointed out recently that Russia is next door to Alaska, which automatically means Sarah Palin has foreign policy experience. Seriously. He actually said that.

To which I thought, "It does?"

Come on, Republicans. Even I know better than that, and I’m just a Vagina.

UPDATE:

Oh, and I wouldn't want you to forget what a nature lover she is. It seems she has a fondness for God's creatures, especially shooting them from planes:

(Thanks to Laughing Wolf for the heads up on this.)

First lesson at the new barn

2008-09-03T08:11:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we got to ride at the new barn for the first time and Alex and I have yet to come down from the high of having all that space. Our instructor's last place was really small, and the arena we used was more confining than we realized. The one we rode in yesterday was big - more of a fenced field than an arena - and we felt like eventers zipping around the place. Even Stormy acted like a new horse; I've never seen that old man so spry.

Alex took her first jump at the canter and I was so proud I almost cried, and was really pleased to see how fearlessly she worked to build on what she learned. Jumping horses for the first time is like riding a roller coaster, only the danger is more real. It's exhilarating, and the risk of what could happen any moment could spoil the fun if the excitement weren't so worth it. I

My lessons are becoming much more involved. Yesterday I learned the importance of counting strides between jumps, and the meaning of "chipping." Duchess was more than willing yesterday; there were no balks or refusals from her at all. Maybe it's because I'm more confident and less hesitant a s well.

Next week Steph, our instructor, says she may have us start to do some bareback exercises and eventually wants us to jump bareback. Ugh, OK. I guess. I've ridden bareback before. But bareback over jumps? Please, please, please don't anyone tell my orthopedist.

Here are a few photos from our day:

Alex decided early into the lesson she'd rather ride in the saddle I was using so we switched, which was fine. I liked the jumping saddle better anyway.

The barn is really awesome - large with four stalls, a wide aisle and a tack area. Here we are untacking our ponies, and looking forward to next time!

Shots from the Bow

2008-09-01T20:15:00.001-07:00

For a non-traditional person, I'm pretty traditional where summer vacation is concerned. Since we homeschool, we decide when the new school year begins, and for us that is the day after Labor Day.

It's a good time to say good-bye to summer, which is in the process of saying good-bye to us. It's at this time of year that I always notice the subtle little signs that the seasons are changing - the difference in the afternoon light, the drawn-out mournful tone of the crickets' song, the appearance of cabbage butterflies and native morning glories. This year the temperatures are even corresponding with the changes, which is unusual. Coastal North Carolina seems to hold heat, and the dog days often drag into October. Tonight, though, it will drop down into the fifties here, which is almost an earlier cool snap than we're used to.

But I like it.

We always make a big deal out of the final official weekend of summer, and this year was no different. On Sunday we went with my friend April to Raleigh for the Carolina Reptile Show. Larry and the kids picked up frogs - a red-eyed tree frog, some dumpies and a horned frog, as well as a Blue Tongue Skink and some really spastic water dragons. Afterwards, April and I escaped to an independent bookstore she's been dying for me to visit. I found an awesome book on frogs and toads of North Carolina, complete with a CD of their calls. Lucas and I listened to it three times after we got home and I think he would have listened to it more if I'd not told him it was time for bed.

Today Larry and the kids spent the morning setting up the new pets. The door opened and closed dozens of times as Larry came through carrying large aquariums while the kids followed with lids, bowls and any other essentials their new frogs and lizards might need. I was excused from helping due to a writing project which I later abandoned for the canoe trip.

We put in on Shelter Creek near a popular fish camp where I used to work before I was able to support myself as a writer. It was late afternoon, and the snakes and turtles we'd hoped to see and photograph were long past sunning. So I focused on light instead. I took the above shot of the bridge over Shaw Highway about an hour before sunset.

And this shot I took of a riverfront Hobbit House. The kids called out to the hobbits, but no one answered. Apparently they weren't home.

We couldn't shoot any family shots like I wanted given our lack of a Fifth for the outing, but Larry did shoot this one of me and the kids. So here it is.

After our outing we enjoyed a dinner of cajun catfish at the camp before heading home and I caught up with Steve, the owner, who told Larry and the kids embarrassing stories of the days when I worked for him. I told a few of my own about him on the way home.

So that was my weekend. Simple and good, just the way I like things. I'm sitting in the chair by the open window now, listening to the frogs outside and testing myself to see how many I can remember from the frog call CD. I hear spring peepers, I think, green tree frogs and squirrel frogs, too. And maybe a Southern toad, but I can't be sure.

Tomorrow we'll wake up to a busier schedule as another school year arrives to test our limits and capabilities. If it's anything like the last year, I'll always end it amazed that I learned as much as the kids did. That seems to just happen - a kid will get interested in astronomy and the next thing you know you're learning how to program a telescope to track the stars. Or another will take an interest in frogs and lizards and you end up with a menagerie in the sunroom. Schooling goes from being a chore to being a joint venture. It's just another nice thing about being part of an active family, and I'm looking forward to it.

Posting lull

2008-08-22T08:31:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the inactivity this week but I'm swimming in projects at the moment.I'm moving my ponies over to our neighbor's farm, having finally sealed a deal to rent eight acres of fenced pasture from her. There's a bit of work that will need to be done before everything is ready. And on top of that I'm helping another neighbor exercise her drop-dead gorgeous Haflinger pony. A new school year is about to begin so there's curriculum to decide on, projects to plan, etc. and so on. Oh, and of course I'm still busy with paying work so there's little free time these days for anything else. The only thing I am making time for are my daily thee-mile walks.

I hope to have a nice update on...something...with photos sometime at the beginning of the week!

In the meantime, I hope everyone has a fabulous weekend!

This is so gay...

2008-08-15T16:39:00.000-07:00

I really don't understand men one bit. Take my husband as a shining example.

He knows I write erotica, and has even read some of it. What he hasn't read I've talked about. And in my dubious line of work I sometimes show him other stuff that I consider highly erotic, like some YouTube videos I found awhile back of a British show called Sugar Rush that doesn't play in the states. For those of you unaware of the series, it's about a young lesbian girl coming of age in a highly dysfunctional family. It's pretty graphic, very hot and I'm just heartsick that I can't rent it to watch here.

Larry was cool with the Sugar Rush videos, so of course I was puzzled when he was rifling through my desk the other day and flipped out when he came across some gay erotica. Gay male erotica.

Let me interrupt by saying that no one - and I do mean no one - should rifle through my desk unless they want to be shocked. If you pick up something off my desk and start reading, that's just asking for it. It'd be like waking through a field of land mines and then acting all indignant when your legs get blown off.

But the next thing I know there's Larry, mouth agape as he leafs through some the homoerotic Harry Potter fan-fiction my friend April had given me.

I guess there's no accounting for taste, huh? And I forgave him for not having any, because while I'm no fan of Snape/Harry, Draco/Harry, Dumbledore/Ron or any of the other possible pairings, some of it is really well written. And this was some of the hottest erotica, - gay, straight or sideways - that I'd ever read.

"What is this? Why do you have this?" he asked.

I shrugged. "It's hot," I said.

"No it's not!" he said. "This is sick!"

I snatched it out of his hand. "Well don't look at it, then!" Geesh. That's the advice I give to anyone who objects to porn. You'd think my husband would have sense enough to know that already. But whatever.

OK, so fast forward to today. My friend April is super, super nice to me. Not only does she copy gay porn she thinks I'll like and give it to me as a gift, but she also gives me advice whenever my goats are sick. If there was ever an all-around good and useful friend, it's April.

So when I decided to make my own foray into fan-fiction, she sprang to mind. Like me, she loves Harry Potter. Actually, I think she loves him even more. So I thought, why not do a gay parody video and dedicate it to her?

Here's the premise: Harry Potter enters Hogwarts unaware that the place is just run amuck with gayness. Right away everyone starts hitting on him, from the professors to fellow students like Draco Malfoy. All this is quite confusing to Harry; he wants to fit in, after all. Then Snape comes to his room one night and suggests Harry spy on Neville Longbottom who is not only totally gay but totally comfortable with it. So does Harry leave, or is he inspired by Neville to stay and become the school's next Gay Superstar? You'll have to watch to find out.

Here's the video, and I think it's a damn fine first attempt if I do say so myself. And funny, too. Or maybe that's just me.

I couldn't wait to show Larry when he got home. Of course, he was like, "Did you do anything else today?"

Well, duh. I also wrote some porn. He can be so ridiculous at times. Of course paying porn comes before the parody. Everybody knows that.

He watched the video and frowned. "What's wrong with you?" he asked me, even though he knows I get sick of people asking me that all the time. "What's with you and this gay stuff?"

"You mean like Sugar Rush?" I asked. "You didn't seem to mind Sugar Rush. You thought it was hot."

"That's different," he said. "This is turning the tables."

Exsqueeze me?

I pointed out that some people would consider lesbian or gay porn to be turning the tables - on heterosexuality. But it seems that for men, the only acceptable gayness is between two hot chicks.

But no matter, different strokes for different folks, I guess. Maybe there is something wrong with me, but at least I don't discriminate.

U2, Bush?

2008-08-13T08:17:00.000-07:00

Hello, sunshine!

2008-08-12T11:51:00.001-07:00

Not much to report..

2008-08-08T06:18:00.000-07:00

..but I figured give that it's already Friday I'd throw something up along with my wish for everyone to have a wonderful weekend.

I've been busy with a writing project, but am still taking time to get out of doors at every opportunity. Yesterday I spotted this osprey by a pond near my house. By the looks of the bird, it's a female. With birds of prey, females are about a third larger than males and this is an exceptionally big osprey even accounting for her gender.

Sorry for the poor quality of the pictures, but I had to shoot her from afar with my zoom lens. One of these days I hope to get a stronger one for difficult subjects like this osprey, which emitted a shrill call when she spotted me on the other side of the pond.

And then she was gone, but at least I got a clear enough shot for you to see the dramatically hooked beak and talons so perfectly suited for snagging and tearing up fish.

It was nice to see her, even though ospreys are my least favorite raptors to work with. They're skittish and fickle. It's nearly impossible to get a single one to eat in captivity. And because they only eat fish cleaning up after them is less than pleasant. I won't elaborate; just take my word for it.

In other news, Larry started leveling the dirt he had hauled in for the greenhouse expansion. I'm not thrilled about the project, but what can I say? We both drive each other crazy with our projects and I just had my turn a few months back when I brought home that herd of dairy goats.

Six-year-old Lucas is totally on board with the expansion because leveling the dirt means he gets to ride on the tractor with his daddy. I just love this shot of them, and also wanted to include it so Thimscool could see the banana trees in the background. Some of the larger plants should be fruiting soon and I'll try to post pictures when they do.