Monday, June 30, 2008


The Washington City Paper has selected me to be one of the guest fringe reviewers for the Capital Fringe Festival this year. I get free tickets to shows and they are going to put my reviews on their website.

So that's a good thing.


Sunday, June 29, 2008

Saturday, June 28, 2008

- Post 3 things you've done in your lifetime that you don't think anybody else on your friends list has done.
- See if anybody else responds with "I've done that." If they have, you need to add another! (2.b., 2.c., etc...)
- Have your friends cut & paste this into their journal to see what unique things they've done in their life.

1. Spent the night a South Carolina jail cell*

2. Participated in a "truth or dare" game that got so wild that two housemates moved out almost immediately afterwards.

3. Taken a walking tour of Jack the Ripper's hunting ground with a criminologist.


*I wasn't under arrest, though. They were opening a new prison and needed volunteers for the guards to practice marching around and handling.

I would love to work in this law office

CC hearts hipster craft fairs

I like Wanda Sykes

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

CC the rural churchgoer.

Robin says I'm out of touch because I live in an area with thousands of UUs in a couple of dozen churches (Thank you, A. Powell Davies), so I can't understand what more rural UUs go through.

And as much as I feel like the "I go to a 50-member UU church in the middle of nowhere and I find the people I go to church with intolerant of my views" people are overrepresented on the internet, for the record, I did used to be one to some degree.

I've lived in a place where there were only one or two UU churches within a reasonable distance (by which I mean "within 60 miles") and where I didn't particularly agree with a lot of the opinions that were voiced, from the pulpit and at coffee hour.

What did I do about it?

1. I picked the church that was older, smaller and needed me more. I did this mostly because they hugged less and made less of a fuss about greeting me. Pretty much one guy greeted at the smaller church. I loved that. Extroversion scares me off on Sunday morning. When I want to talk to you, I will. But let me test the water first. Anyway, they did, but when I joined, they were pleased to have me, even if I did believe weird things.
2. I participated with great enthusiasm in a discussion group where lots of people disagreed with me on lots of things, but where I learned about their beliefs as well as broadcasting my own.
3. I joined the worship committee where I worked with other people to design services better suited to people who believed what I did.*
4. When something was going on that I didn't believe in, I sat at the toasting table and watched the crowning of the queen of the may as the kids skipped around the maypole, and I tried to learn something from the experience.
5. I redoubled my efforts to explore my own spiritual beliefs through reading authors who saw the world similarly and through writing about what I believed.
6. I met some people online that I agreed with.
7. And yes, I found some people who agreed with me and went out to lunch with them and bitched about the service on occasion. Or tried to. But frankly, we liked some folks who disagreed with us so much that we always ended up inviting them along and our bitch session ended up more like a conversation. Also, my favorite pagan had an amazing voice and the blues trio at the restaurant we liked always wanted her to sing and when I was listening to her theological differences didn't seem terribly important.
8. I reached out to the people I went to church with. I got involved in charitable projects, I worked on lots of stuff for the church and I made lots of friends.
9. I tried to see if things I disagreed with could be interpreted as useful metaphor. This had been my parents' suggestion when I was a kid non-believer** and they were informing me that I was a Presbyterian until I turned 18***.

I learned more about who I was spiritually and what I believed at that church than I have at any of the churches where I've been more comfortable. And I developed a more sophisticated spiritual relationship with faiths different from my own and learned about things other faiths had to teach me, as well as more thoughtful reasons about why some things don't work for me spiritually.

who again, stuck it out as a Presby for 18 years, let's remember. Once your Great Aunt has calmly told you over a game of chess that this particular game of chess was in God's plan and the outcome of the game would be whatever God's hand and God's purpose predestined to occur, ain't nothing a UU can say that's going to bother you all that much.

*Again, I worked WITH people. I didn't make dire threats about what would happen to membership if I didn't get my way, and I didn't try to impose my way 100 percent and take over. I was in the minority and I respected that and picked my battles and got a lot of what I wanted.

**As I've mentioned before, it was Abraham and Isaac that did it for me. The idea that God was a colossal jerk who didn't actually give a shit about us made a lot of things in my life make sense, especially once I got to Junior High. The God I believe in now is indeed different from the one I didn't believe in then, as we theistic UUs like to put it.

***Before I turned 18 and a half, the Presbyterian church had fired their minister because she was a lesbian and I had quit. The minister and I are still friends. My parents, brothers and theChaliceRelative still go to the church. Much of life is battle-picking, kids.

Another thing I'm thinking about today-Bohemia drift

No, I don't know why I feel so much like writing recently.

The other day, theCSO and I were going someplace and listening to the songs saved on my Iphone. (I no longer inflict my taste in music on most people. Be it the Colin Raye or the 2 Live Crew, I always manage to offend my passengers' taste. But the CSO is used to my ways and pretty tolerant.)

Anyway, I have that La Vie Boheme song from Rent in there and as we were listening to:

To hand-crafted beers made in local breweries
To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese
To leather, to dildos, To curry Vindaloo
To Huevos Rancheros and Maya Angelou

TheCSO commented that we're pretty mainstream and we really like most of that stuff, and have no particular objection to the rest. And indeed, out of context, that almost looks like a list of yuppie favorite things rather than a list of counterculture favorite things.

And we had a pleasant discussion of how interesting it is that the general principles that the song espouses (riding your bike midday past the three-peice-suits) remain something that we associate with hipsters and being counterculture, but the cultural specifics have drifted into the mainstream so quickly.

On a related note, I have a friend who is into S+M who is in total denial about the mainstream acceptance of S+M.

"Look, right here! It's in Cosmo!"

"Shut up! Shut up!"

So that's another thing I'm thinking about.


Why do so many people say...

"If only UUism was more theistic/atheistic/Christian/activist and agreed with me, then surely we would have more members?"

I know it's the human urge to think "If only I explained my position well enough, surely everybody would think like me."

But is "rational, good, people can disagree, and often do" really such a difficult concept? Lack of understanding of that seems to be the heart of this issue.

This is one interesting thing about living near an urban area with lots of flourishing UU churches. We have more and less theistic churches, more and less Christian churches, more and less activist churches, and some are more popular than others, but no one category particularly wants for members.

My particular conception of God doesn't work well with theistic services, and I like my activism to be focussed toward charity rather than politics, and it took awhile to find a church to match, but I did. My church is proof that humanist, less political churches can succeed. But all I have to do is drive in to the city to see a Christian UU church and a quite political UU church that are flourishing, too.

Even on the blogosphere, we have UUs who've left because we aren't theistic enough AND UUs who have left because we are too theistic.

The discussions about race and class issues as reasons the church is smaller have a fair amount of truth to them, but I never know what to do about those. I have a strong yen to say "If we're mostly white and educated, can't we just be who we are?" I don't want to exclude people, but I don't want to pander either, and many of the ideas for making ourselves seem welcoming to people with different cultures seem pandering to me.

At the same time, looking at UU churches and a map, it seems clear to me that UU churches of all theological stripes do well where there are lots of wealthy and educated people. So perhaps trying to make our faith appeal to the less wealthy and less well educated would help us grow.

Still thinking about these things.


Tuesday, June 24, 2008

I have always had a low opinion

of people who say "Now how would you feel if someone did that to you?"

I've written on this topic before because I've had several friends in the past who liked to recite my minor sins back to me, always ending with that dumbass question. I've heard it applied to, among other sins, "kissing your ex at a party," "needing to work on the college newspaper when you have yet another boyfriend drama" and "poorly disgusing that I didn't like the romantic surprise you painstakingly prepared for me because you didn't know me very well and assumed I would love something I actually found mildly traumatic.*"

I always feel like responding "I would feel like a melodramatic, self-important idiot if I made a fuss about it." (Ok, I genuinely felt really bad about the romantic surprise at the time, though in retrospect, I don't have a lot of sympathy for planning romantic surprises for people one doesn't know very well.)

Anwyay, I'm sure with "how would YOU feel if..." the idea is that I will have a sudden, shocking revelation:

"Oh my gosh! If I had plans with a friend and they had to cancel a few days before because of a work crisis, I would feel...bad! How horribly I must have wounded you!"

(Cue dramatic, un-CC-like sobbing, wailing, moaning and begging of forgiveness,)

I think I've written before that my total disgust for anybody who uses this phrase dates back to a clingy, in retrospect completely mental college friend who used it constantly. Since, then, I've regarded it as a red flag that the person I'm dealing with might be a self-important pain-in-the-ass.

I'm fairly certain that for most of us, considering the "how would *I* feel" point is pretty much a reflex when we're about to do something that someone else will likely find unpleasant. For me it is always factored in to the cost benefit analysis I go through when making a choice about whether to, say, report someone who is giving me bad customer service, to say nothing of when I'm about to do something than might annoy a friend. So to me, there's something inherently quite insulting about asking someone to consider how they would feel in the same situation.

Anway, I've written all that before, though it has been a couple of years. Yet I find myself revisiting the idea today, because I've several times recently encoutered people who can't deal with having their own logic applied to themselves and actually haven't considered this point, and are in some cases in total denial. (Well, yeah, when you do the same thing I did, it's much worse, because of these minor distinctions that don't make much sense...)

And I am totally flummoxed by the mere existance of these people.

I've discussed this and similar issues with an admittedly snotty close friend who says that if you're going to argue with stupid people, you need to prepare yourself with the sort of logic that appeals to stupid people. This logic includes several variations on Pascal's wager, any political logic that fits on a bumper sticker, and yes, my least favorite question. But that's for winning an argument.

Usually I don't even bother to try to show stupid people they've wronged me and get an apology. It's always more work than it is worth.

So that's what I'm thinking about today. Suggestions?


*This was not theCSO. TheCSO would never ask me that question. He's way too smart and way to aware that he and I think differently.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Saturday Morning Silliness

Your result for The Fashion Style Test...


31% Flamboyance, 55% Originality, 63% Deliberateness, 48% Sexiness

[Tasteful Original Deliberate Prissy]

One is certain: you have great taste and plenty of ideas. You have clearly defined beliefs about what's good and what's bad in fashion but they are far from banal. Stylish and imaginative, you prefer to inspire admiration than to shock and you mostly succeed. Even if sometimes you'd like to have more courage to put on something absolutely outrageous you do great job in creating a unique look that others look up to. There is a possibility that you work in the fashion industry. If you don't, perhaps you should.

The opposite style from yours is Bar Cruiser [Flamboyant Conventional Random Sexy].

All the categories: Librarian Sporty Hottie Office Master Uptown Girl/ Boy Brainy Student Movie Star Fashionista Glamorous Soul Fashion Enemy Bar Cruiser Kid Next Door Sex Bomb Hippie Kid Fashion Rebel Fashion Artist Catwalk God(ess)

Take The Fashion Style Test at HelloQuizzy

Thursday, June 19, 2008

This strikes me as a very poor advertisement

I would not tan at this salon. I wouldnt want to be that color.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

To the person who invited me to the Meadville Reception...


Due to the scrawled initials, smeared postmark and generic card, I haven't a clue who you are.

I know only these things:

1. You know my actual name and home address, which narrows it down somewhat, though not as much as I wish it did some days.
2. You're very forgiving given what I wrote about the last Meadville Reception I attended.

Anyway, I appreciate the invite and indeed would be happy to go give Meadville another chance to feed and woo me. Unfortunately, I'm not going to GA this year.

Thanks, anyway and I really appreciate the invite. I hope you're a reader and you see this.


UUism will have twice as many problems this time next year

I know this because Katy-the-Wise and I are going to miss our yearly breakfast where we solve all of UUism's problems.

I'm not going to GA. I'm not boycotting or anything, it just seems really pointless to go on a year when so few of my friends will be there. Discreet inquiries among friends and past GA attendees who aren't ministers and whom I think I could stand to share a room with didn't even produce a roommate this year. (My understanding is that ministers, after all, usually pay for their rooms out of professional expenses and they don't need roommates as much.)

I realize I'm helping the boycotters "win" in some sense and believe me, this cheeses me off.


And I'm bummed about it. But not too bummed, because again, very few of my friends will be there and while GA is a spiritual thing for me as well, a lot of the spiritual value comes from the conversations I have. Goodness, I'm going to miss seeing Katy-the-Wise.

So can we PLEASE all go to Salt Lake???

And FWIW, who IS going to GA this year?



...Or CC loves Laura Lippman and identifies with this article.

At the ripe old age of 19, I bummed around India for a month and a half with a bunch of folks from college, including a guy who was known to the whole campus as "Gay Chuck,*" a nickname he relished. GC was half white and half African American, and wherever we went in India, people seemed to take GC as being from India, just from a different part of India than they were.

So GC and I hatched this plan. For most of the trip, we went around together. He was the clever Indian husband, careful with the family's money, and I was the flightly American wife who simply had to have some little trinket. We played "Good Cop, Bad Cop" on the salespeople in the marketplaces and got just about everything for cheaper prices than everyone else on our trip. (Flighty American wife that I was, I sometimes would pay the original asking price with a wink while Chuck was pretending to look away. Saving money was only a side objective, we really wanted to get better deals than our friends were getting.)

In retrospect, I am sort of amazed that this worked, and I have long wondered whether the dealers gave us low prices because we were so darn entertaining, not because our little vaudeville routine fooled anybody.

Anyway, we did this huge walk around Mysore, and about halfway through, there was a dealer selling these hideous, life-sized wooden cobras. GC and I stood there, looking at them and whispering snarky things to one another about them for a full five minutes, then moved on.

But I kept thinking about the snake.

We were most of the way back, less than a mile from the hotel, when I turned to GC,

"I'm sorry, darlin', but I think I need one of those snakes."

Clearly I was playing the flighty American wife to the hilt.

Good sport that he was, Chuck walked with me all the way back. By the time we got back to the hotel, almost all of our friends were back. We set the snake down on the dining room table in the common room and it elicited a very satisfying scream of terror from one of our traveling companions when she walked into the room to find it staring at her.

I brought a lot of stuff back from India. Most of it, I gave away. Some of it is packed away in the attic. One tablecloth I bought in Mumbai is still in regular rotation when I give parties.

And there's the snake, always the snake.

Right now, the snake sits on a knicknack shelf built into my dining room wall, posed, as ever, to strike. That snake has been prominently displayed in five different dorm rooms, houses and apartments in four different states, though one summer when we lived with my mother-in-law my husband and I thought it would be prudent to keep it packed away.

A few weeks ago, ZombieKid's teacher gave him an assignment where he had to pick ten, and only ten, objects from his house to take with him when he moved and write an essay about the one of them he would pick if he could only take one. I rarely develop emotional attachments to objects. When Jana-who-creates told me about this assignment, I certainly could imagine it causing crying jags from every kid in the class, but I had trouble coming up with even ten things that couldn't be replaced.

My wedding album was the only object to spring immediately to mind.

I'd forgotten the snake. But now that I've remembered it, I have trouble imagining living anywhere without being under its watchful eye.

Funny how some things grab ahold of you and won't let go.


*There were no other guys on campus named Chuck at this time.

This is possibly the coolest thing ever.

All of internet culture has been building up to this moment.


Thursday, June 12, 2008

This was me yesterday.

It was way fun, but I have stuff I need to get done and as you might have guessed from my previous post, my concentration is non-awesome recently. If you have a perverse streak and would enjoy being the "goofing off police," feel free to send me bitchy e-mail, texts, Googlechats and facebook messages if you catch me not working.


Ps. I think that's my favorite web comic ever.

So, wanna hear about my fucked up nightmares?

Sure you do.

I had this weird series of little nightmares on Sunday night, and I haven't been myself since. I haven't slept well in days.

Maybe it's the nightmares. For lack of something to do as it's two-a-freaking-clock-in-the-morning, I will describe the nightmares I can remember. They were a series, leading in to one another with a sort of narrative flow. I have the impression that I actually dreamed about ten of them, but here's what I remember:

-I screwed something up at work. It wasn't something that was going to cost my firm or a client any money, but it was personally aggravating to my boss, who had to spend (unbillable) hours fixing the situation.

-Sometime later, I was on a field trip or something with ZombieKid* There was a bicycle coming toward us on the road, straight for ZombieKid, I pushed him out of the way, which made him fall into a mud puddle in front of all his friends, who laughed at him. The bicycle swerved in plenty of time and wouldn't have hit him.

-I took him home to get him cleaned up. I drew a bath for him while he played the computer, then told him to take a bath. As he was getting out, my best friend came home and I told her about the mud puddle.

"You didn't give him a bath, did you?"
"Well, yeah, he was muddy"
"Did you put some of the chemical in the blue bottle in the water?"
"Oh God. His skin is really sensitive. You can't give him a bath without his chemical! Now he's going to get a horrible rash!"

-Some time after that, I realize that theCSO's coworkers were't coming over for dinner any more. I asked him about it and he gently explained that his coworkers thought I was boring and that they liked our house, but didn't want to be around me.

I don't remember the others, but as far as I can recall, it was me hurting and embarassing people I care about all night long.

It was like my subconcious was sending me a message encoded in dreams, and that message was "You suck."

It was a rough night, y'all.


*ZK is my best friend's nine year old. He's geeky in many of the ways TheCSO and I remember being as children and we are very protective of him. TheGnome is younger, but a little more savvy about the world. Anyway, I am not related to these children, but they are the children in my life in a fundamental way.

Monday, June 09, 2008

Usually I have to be drunk to write about vaginas has vibrator reviews. As far as I can recall, every one of these reviews has boiled down to "Eh, it's OK, but it's no Hitachi magic wand."*

Anyway, I was reading the review of the last device that didn't, erm, measure up and I noticed the fascinating number of terms women have for their vaginas, from the clinical to the cutesy. It reminded me of a college friend's odd little vagina terminology story that I posted for the Vagina monologue anniversary.

The human impulse to name and nickname things fascinates me. I wonder why we do it, perhaps to signify the thing's meaning to us?

Linguist Friend has a mouse in his house that has mostly escaped the cat's attention and has survived being caught multiple times. After awhile, LF gave up and named it "Stewart." Now sometimes LF and I will be talking on the phone and he will say something like "Oh, look who raced by! Hello Stewart!" Thus a mouse is elevated to a pet.

To bring it back to vaginas, I always assume when I'm writing something that a woman who talks about her "vadge" is a different sort of woman from one who has a specific name for it. A woman who thinks about her "naughty bits" probably doesn't talk about them much at all.


who has a car she calls the "Hot Tomato," so she's far from immune.

*But then, what is?

And the Chaliceblog poetry thing continues

Robin's a guy with strong will,
But his poetry skills sure are nil,
To save an elegy so sweet,
this Chick's hitting "Delete"
Bad meter is such a buzzkill!

Seriously, Robin put the following limerick in the comments of the elegy thread. I don't usually delete posts, but it kinda messes up the vibe we have going, so I'm putting it here and getting rid of the one in the comments over there.

Thoughfully-written additions to that thread are still welcome.

Robin's limerick:

There once was a U*U named CC

Who had a penchant for whiskey

When having a bad day

She could pack a few bottles away

including Kentucky bourbon oh so PC. . . ;-)

1:50 PM, June 09, 2008

And the healing begins: In praise of the ass pat

I am not done disliking Obama’s supporters* but Obama himself did something that really pleased me on the night he cinched the nomination.

I loved the ass pat.

The much-discussed fist bump was good too, and it is already becoming fashionable in my circle of friends. Indeed, it reminded me of how at the Youth Service this year, my beloved YRUUs had the congregation high-five at the greeting of peace. It would seem forced on any other Sunday, but at the Youth Service it was just a little bit hip and silly and a reminder that “hey, we’re going to do things a little differently today, but stick with us, it will be fun.”

There are worse messages Obama could be sending to America.

The fist bump had an awesome “we did this together” vibe, and the ass pat might have been a little more questionable without it, but, yeah, the ass pat was my favorite part. Some have argued that it was, in reality, a lower back pat. But I think we’ve all been in relationships and we all know what a lower-back pat means. (E.g. I’d like to give you an ass pat, but we’re on National TV, Baby. So here’s the next best thing, the close neighbor of the ass pat, the ass pat’s best friend, the sexy lower back pat. Because America is totally into us, and we’re totally into each other. )

Either way, it was completely hot and I really, really liked it.

I’ve heard the bump and ass-pat compared to Al and Tipper’s make out kiss at the DNC after his nomination.

Actually, no, this was WAY BETTER. Because honestly, the Mr. and Mrs. Gore make out kiss looked really, really staged. You could hear the gears turning. “How can we show America we’re different from those tiresome Clintons, whose marital affections were so questionable? Ah, yes, a Hollywood kiss.”

I’ve argued before, and still believe, that Obama is an actual politician, as Rebecca Traister put it in Salon, he “is not, despite what some of his supporters seem to believe, built entirely of altruism and hope and, I don't know, puppies.”

I, as a rule, do not believe politicians.

I have faith in the affectionate marital ass pat.

Nobody scripts an ass pat. I really can’t imagine it being much more than instinctual. The moment was right, Obama felt good, and he reached for his wife. Sexy, natural, confident and so much fun. It was awesome.

I was really sad that night. I still am, when I think about the possibilities. But even as I was being reminded that us gyno-Americans have a way to go, I was still pleased with what I was seeing.

OK, he wasn’t my first choice, or even my second choice. But I have to admit that Barack Obama is an intensely likeable, brilliant guy and I don’t have more than my usual issues with voting for him. He doesn’t believe what I do, but pretty much nobody does. The past sleaziness we’ve learned about so far gets pretty much a total pass from me thanks to my cynicism about Chicago politics. I can’t have a diplomat and I can’t have a woman, but I can really, really live with awesome.

And I suspect America can, too.

Again, I think almost all of the 17,493,836** Hillary supporters will come around, though if Obama supporters wouldn't be jerks about her, that would certainly help. If nothing else, keep in mind that if John Edwards were the nominee and running against McCain, I would in the end, suck it up and vote for him. And I really don’t like John Edwards as a politician, his platform never seemed particularly thoughtful or substantive, he's clueless about economics yet talks about economics all the time and I just get a tremendous asshole vibe from him as a person.

But I'm pro-sexiness and fun, pro-historic achievement, pro-sensible Economic policy, Pro-non-Scary Supreme Court Picks, pro-passion, pro-candidate actually understanding the constitution, so here we go:


Ps. You have no idea how much Chalicesseur love I feel when I look at the post where Obijuan, anonymous, Ogre, Fausto and Lois have started actually writing an elegy for that bottle. You people so know how to make things better when I'm having a bad day.

*Indeed, Marry in Massachusetts made it clear that Hillary wouldn’t be truly acceptable until she “released her delegates” to vote for Obama at the convention. Were this political tradition and had anybody asked it of John Edwards, I wouldn’t care, but as it is a request for an entirely meaningless gesture, (1. If all of Hillary’s delegates vote for her, she still won’t win 2. Her delegates are not bound anyway. After Edwards dropped out, some of Edwards’ said they will vote for him anyway, some have said they are voting for Obama. It’s up to them and the candidate has no real control.) it seems like one more demand that Clinton eat dirt. Even as she leads her supporters in chanting “yes, we can” she’s still really threatening to a lot of people.

Good, maybe the next female candidate will seem acceptably ladylike by comparison.

(Yes, yes, she would almost have to. Shut up.)

** So quit talking down to her, M’kay?

This isn't my favorite LOLcat ever, but it's up there

Thursday, June 05, 2008

Another complicated woman who has kicked ass recently

Justice O'Connor is putting together a video game about the judiciary and how it works.

"We hear a great deal about judges who are activists -- godless, secular, humanists trying to impose their will on the rest of us," she said. "Now I always thought an activist judge was one who got up in the morning and went to work."

This is way awesome.

She said the only way to preserve an independent judiciary was through public education, which she said was failing to produce citizens with enough knowledge about the three branches of U.S. government -- legislative, executive and judicial.

The Our Courts project will have two parts, O'Connor said. The first is on online interactive civics program designed to be used by children from 7th to 9th grades either to supplement existing courses or as a distinct unit in the curriculum.

Justice O'Connor is a lawyer friend of mine's hero. I am a little bit more of a Justice Brennan fan when it comes to the judiciary, but I have to say that O'Conner seems really wonderful and I was forever changed by the New York Times article from last year where she was so understanding and strong and mature and decent about the fact that her Alzheimer's-patient husband has a girlfriend in the ward because he can no longer remember his marriage to O'Connor*.


*She gave up a seat on the Supreme Court to spend more time with him, and yet she's so amazing about the whole situation. I'm seriously tearing up a bit now just thinking about it. John Edwards, I realize that if you're reading this, you no longer consider me a reasonable candidate for president. The feeling is mutual.

The sort of post that makes me dislike Obama supporters

Ok, This post from 'Marry in Massachusetts' pisses me off.

I really don't think the "mysterious scads of Clinton voters who won't vote for Obama" is going to be the issue that people think it is come November. (Do you honestly think every Republican is thrilled with McCain? If you think that, you really don't know any Republicans. Well, I do, and I can assure you...) I can appreciate what Kim said in my comments yesterday about some people calling in to talk shows to say they voted for Hillary but wouldn't vote for Obama. That said, I don't think talk show callers represent the mainstream. I don't think talk show LISTENERS even represent the mainstream.

To me, it seems like an excuse to keep trashing Hillary supporters and Hillary herself in the face of Obama supporters having GOTTEN WHAT THEY WANTED.

Come on, Hillary herself is telling her supporters to vote for Obama.

Also it seems really weird to me that MIM writes "Not everyone can be that big and that wise as to revel in Clinton's accomplishments," in the context of a post that, excepting a couple of paragraphs of mostly quoted material, pretty much completely trashes Clinton and her supporters.

One would think that now would be a time to (a) revel in the fact that Obama is the candidate and (b) have a bit of class about Hillary's accomplishments, which, whether you are willing to write it in your own words or not, are pretty sigificant.

I would never deny that racism has been a factor in the campaign, but I have to point out that Obama didn't have to look out into a crowd and see signs saying "pick some cotton and make me a shirt," which I guess would be the equivilent of the "Iron my shirt" signs at Hillary rallies. Hillary looked at those signs, presumably rolled her eyes, and went right back to campaigning. Good for her.

The sexism was so blatant, and so annoying, that it got me more emotionally invested in a primary than I ever remember being. I still honestly think Richardson was a better candidate than Hillary. (To say nothing of Obama, who has the foreign policy experience of the president of a junior high chess club.) But I saw Chris Matthews and I saw John Edwards and I saw how my own friends jumped on any sign of Hillary's weakness like Sherlock Holmes searching for the big clue and it made me mad.

This campaign was just amazingly tough. I could not have stood it and I don't know that Obama supporters who were watching it all through that hermeneutic have or could completely get it. I have literally never heard the N-word applied to Obama. But the C-word was ON T-SHIRTS.

And she almost made it.

She, a woman, ran as the establishment candidate, the symbol of the party insider, and it almost worked. She chose women for her senior staff, and her tenacity, intelligence and general badassedness was a better response to John Edwards' "we need in a commander-in-chief is strength and resolve, and presidential campaigns are tough business" garbage than the most gifted public speaker could have crafted

88 percent of Americans now agree with the statement “I am glad to see a woman as a serious contender for president.”

Ok, ok, Obama fans. You won. Call off your dogs, or at least sick them on McCain. Leave Hillary's "diseased campaign corpse," as MIM so poetically writes, to those of us who see something in it worth mourning.

And seriously, fuck off.


*Yes, I'm still mad about that. Because John Edwards uses emotion so blatantly in his own campaigns but is so excited to pull out the knives whem a women does the same thing. And he criticizes Hillary's outfits. My impression is that he was so scarred by the Republicans calling him "Breck Girl" that he has to go out of his way to prove what a big man he is by being a pig.

I'll give the last word to Pat Schroeder, who is more rational on the subject than I am, "When people say they don't want anyone's finger on the button who cries, I say I don't want anyone's finger there who doesn't cry."

CLARIFICATION: Obviously, I'm not talking about every Obama supporter here. But I have recently heard the "Just because I've had nothing but nastiness to say about your candidate for the last six months doesn't mean you have any right to not embrace mine immediately" sentiment several times recently and it really strikes a nerve.

Could there at least be a week or so between "You're delusional/racist/stupid for supporting Hillary" and "How can you call yourself a Democrat if you don't adore Obama?"

I mean even if there are lots of Hillary supporters who don't feel inclined to vote for Obama right now, is that really such a shock given the way some of the Obama supporters are acting even in the face of their candidate's victory?

I promise you, come November, a lot of these wounds will be healed and a tremendous majority of Hillary supporters will go to the polls for Obama. But for now, have one percent of the grace in victory that you're expecting from Hillary in defeat and shut up.

Stolen from the SmartCar Forums

I have wondered if my love of my smartcar comes from having an adult version of this toy car. (My smartcar is even red.)

Also, the blue smartcar is really quite handsome.


Ps. Am still debating with self and spouse over the vanity plate.

Regrettably, "MAXWELL" is taken. "YPANTS" is not, but I've made an executive decision that it's stupid.

We're down to "BRIEFD" or "HT TMTO"

Opinions welcome.

Monday, June 02, 2008

On quitting one's church

I've thought about quitting my church. I won't say that I think about it a lot. I have good friends, and the youth group and lots of people I care about at my church and I wouldn't leave it lightly. God and I are OK on our own, but these connections to other people help keep me in a community and a tradition where a bunch of us working together do a lot more than me working alone.

But the thoughts of quitting do flit through.

Like, oh, yesterday, when a sermon that could have been just as good without the clear assumption that everyone in the room was a political liberal had to throw in those assumptions anyway. They were in the context of a general message of being tolerant to others, even those ghastly conservatives, but the assumption is still annoying.

The thoughts flit through. Yet I don't seriously ever plan to leave my church unless I move, and I don't frankly plan to do that ever.

But then, no minister has ever given me the trouble that Obama's ministers are giving him.

I am a big fan of the Parsonage Life Blog and its writer. But his story on Obama leaving his church mystifies me.

No, I don't think the issue for conservatives or the media was Black Liberation theology in the sense of preaching about taking care of the poor. I've never seen a church that didn't talk that talk, though some of them walk the walk better than others. (And admittedly, Trinity walks that walk beautifully.)

Honestly, I'm amazed that the Obamas lasted as long as they did at a church that seemed to be doing its damnedest to sink their political ambitions.

I'm sorry, Pfleger preaching IN A SERMON that Hillary's disappointment comes from anger that a "black man" could be beating her is JUST PLAIN WRONG, to say nothing of the fact that it is the sort of sexist* sentiment that has me leaping to Hillary's defense. It starts a little voice going in my head saying "Yeah, Hillary is acting defensive and irrational. But people are PRINTING UP T-SHIRTS WITH THE C-WORD ON THEM. Don't YOU get a little defensive and irrational when you think about that? Of course, you want a president more level headed than you, but still..."

As RevRose has noted, it's possible I should do something about these voices.

But anyway, between Rev. Wright's assurances to the National Press Club that Obama is a mere politician answering to the polls but Wright himself answers to God and Rev. Pfleger's little Hillary imitation (that he is shocked, SHOCKED ended up on YouTube) the church has been a tremendous political liability for Obama and I can't imagine that the folks in the pulpit didn't know what they are doing. Everybody, Adam included, is quick to blame the press, but nobody forced Rev. Wright to go in front of the press club and they certainly didn't ask Rev. Pfleger to preach on Hillary keeping a black man down.

Say what you will about squeezing the story 'til it went dry. To my memory, the story of Obama's faith has gone dry twice, right before Rev. Wright did his little talk show speaking tour and right before Pfleger's sunday morning Clinton comedy routine.

To my eyes, it's not the press and not even Obama's opponents who are keeping this story alive. His church is doing it and I don't know why they would do this to him. He really seems like a good candidate and I will happily vote for him no matter what these crazy people say in his name.

But this is NOT about his sainted ministers being criticized for standing up for the poor, not at all.


*Because we all know that women aren't sufficiently ambitious to want the presidency for themselves. All they care about is that it DOESN'T go to a black guy. It's all about reacting to a man, you see. Obama's experience is enough to earn him the right to run for president. Hillary's just means that she thinks she's entitled to the presidency. Because she's a bitch that way. And have I shown you my new t-shirt?