Showing posts with label .50 cal machine guns. Show all posts
Showing posts with label .50 cal machine guns. Show all posts

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Its all about ME!

Last night Stan just settled down to some microwaved leftovers and a beer while wifey was watching TV. I defer to the wife on TV during the weekdays and she lets me have at it during the weekend. Since football season is coming up I'm not going to make a fuss of it.

Anyways, WE (t.v. for womyn!) and 20/20 was showing a special on "open adoptions," hosted by none other than Babwa Wawa. Horrible symmetry. For those of you too lazy to click through, an "open adoption" is where the birth mother stays in contact with the adoptive parents. This "special" is actually a reality show, where five couples compete (yes, compete) for a baby, soon to be squeezed out by a fecund 16 year old whose high school boyfriend plowed her in the backseat of his Chevy Cavalier. Obviously this is controversial, and true to form, critics and supporters both have their say about it. But this idiot carnival actually illustrates something far more insidious than a pervasive reality show culture where people feel the need to display their most private, intimate affairs.

The "winners" with their "prize." Nice eyebrows dad. Or should I say Mr. Smalley...

This show is an almost perfect indictment of our own insipid, narcissistic culture. Everything is about me. I am the measure of all things. I need a new pair of shoes, a car, a house, or even a baby. We take out subprime loans and amass credit card debt because we deserve to be instantly gratified. Even the title of the show plays into it... "A Child is Waiting"- waiting for YOU! Don't let them wait any longer! To wit- when one of the families got eliminated there were some tears, but they vanished when the producers jumped in with a consolation baby, dutifully snapped up by the couple.

But narcissism isn't really about instant gratification, its about you. These families want a kid, great. Adoption? Even better... a true selfless act in a sea of selfishness. But an "open adoption?" They want one because it sounds so progressive and they can brag to their upper-class friends about how they have "invested" the lower class birth mother in raising the child. And of course, there is a whole industry built up around providing these open adoptions so lets jump right in. Oh, but please make some room for the cameras.

Caught up in all the fuss about "God's blessing" and the treacly "miracle" of adoption bullshit is that
noone really gives a fuck about the kid. Sure the parents understand the whole open adoption procedure, and have read enough on the internet and met with self described counselors so that they are experts. But picture this kid, puttering along fine until about his twelfth birthday or so when he suddenly realizes something is not quite right. Mindfuck time. Why did my birth mother (who he knows as "Pam") leave me? Why didn't she care enough about me to raise me as her son? What did I do wrong? And what the hell is my relationship supposed to be with these two adults who have raised me? Shit sandwich, son. Take a bite. It will be a minor miracle if this kid isn't a sociopath. This is why adoptive children don't know their birth parents until they are emotionally and mentally capable of understanding the dynamics. Even then, its gotta be wrenching as hell to experience all of the emotions.

But who cares about that? To the mom, and the adoptive family, and Babwa Wawa, its all love and happiness and unicorns farting rainbows. Why are they so cavalier? Because to them the child is not a person, with feelings, hes just a fashion accessory, an accoutrement. Hes the living equivalent of a wholefoods tote bag, advertising that whoever carries one is not only socially conscious and progressive, they are waaaaay fucking cooler than you. And both of you know it. In many ways its not really surprising that a child is the next step in this arms race, but deep down I'd like to think we can muster enough outrage to subject these monsters to their deserved amount of ridicule.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

africa, still? yes, still.


This is not about current events in Africa. But after doing some browsing for a separate project, I came across a story on Liberia and its fighters (and by fighters I mean child soldiers/war criminals). I looked around a bit, and it turns out these guys have totally awesome names, which seem to consist of just stringing together the two or three most intimidating words they knew. It somewhat reminded me of a dog I met whose owners had allowed their young daughter to name it. She chose "Matilda Princess Volcano." Sweet. Here are some of the best of the Liberians, in descending order of rank:

General Butt Naked
General Peanut Butter
General War Boss
General War Boss III (logically I guess there is a War Boss II, but then again its Africa)
General Kill the Bitch
General Murder
General Killer
General Rambo
General Housebreaker
General No-mother-no-father
General Fuck-me-quick
General Share Blood
General Babykiller
Brigadier Bomb Blast
Colonel Action
Colonel Bloodshed
Colonel Cambodia
Commander Bullet (must be a navy man)
Major Cut Throat
Captain War Face
Captain Mission Impossible
Captain Backblast
Captain Cut Hands
Captain Bonus
Sergeant Burn House
Commando Around-the-world

Ladies got into the game too:

Queen Cut Hands (she was not the wife of Captain Cut Hands, apparently its a common name, like Smith or Jones)

Debate your favorites and add more in the comments!!!

Friday, March 7, 2008

the darker the barry, the sweeter the juice

Check it.

And right before Ohio too? Well what would be the point of that...oh wait...I see...Awesome. Somewhere out there is the unpaid staffer with shitty MS paint skills who actually did this. Which brings up another point. Does everything the devil in the red pantsuit does have to be so damned amateurish? Jesus. Take some of the five million dollars you loaned yourself and hire a professional. You know, like these guys. (h/t spencer)

Wait, so I guess this means he is "black enough" now? How about now?

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

why i hate DC

Dear God. "There were the post-primary and post-SOTU phone conversations, in which Walters, a lobbyist for the Livingston Group, conference-called her closest friends inside the Beltway. They spent hours dissecting what was said and what was worn...Naturally, there will be a Super Tuesday bash tonight..."But seriously," says Walters, 35. "Doesn't everyone do this?"

But seriously, fuck you. Now where did I put my machine gun?