Now this is art.

When Obama got Osama a few months ago, I wrote this rather snarky post.

So, imagine my delight/annoyance when I saw this piece of graffiti on a dunny wall somewhere in Newcastle over the weekend:

Delight at knowing someone else is as juvenile as me. Annoyance at the spelling of Obama. Obamo? OBAMO?

Come on, I am a pedant; you may know that already.

I fought the law professor and the law professor won

Just over three hours ago, I blogged that I was busy busy busy with essay writing and don’t have time to blog at the moment and threw a music clip at you — anything to keep the non-existent hounds at bay.

But then something happened. I was reading stuff on the internets (I WAS HAVING A COFFEE BREAK FROM ESSAY WRITING GET OFF MY BACK OKAY). It seems one of the latest tricks that the political Christian Right are doing is denying they know what dominionism is. I first learnt of dominionism a few years ago when I read the excellent book by Michelle Goldberg, Kingdom Coming: The Rise of Christian Nationalism. In the first several pages of her book, Goldberg paints a very chilling portrait of the dominionist movement. Here’s a sample:

The United States has always been a pious country, given to bursts of spiritual fervor, but Christian nationalism is qualitatively different from earlier religious revivals. Like America’s past Great Awakenings, the Christian nationalist movement claims that the Bible is absolutely and literally true. But it goes much further, extrapolating a total political program from that truth, and yoking that program to a political party. It is a conflation of scripture and politics that sees America’s triumphs as confirmation of the truth of the Christian religion, and America’s struggles as part of a cosmic contest between God and the devil. It claims supernatural sanction for its campaign of national renewal and speaks rapturously about vanquishing the millions of Americans who would stand in its way.

The motivating dream of the movement is the restoration of an imagined Christian nation. With a revisionist history that claims the founders never intended to create a secular country and that separation of church and state is a lie fostered by conniving leftists, Christian nationalism rejects the idea of government religious neutrality. The movement argues that the absence of religion in public is itself a religion — the malign faith of secular humanism — that must, in the interest of fairness, be balanced with equal deference to the Bible.

. . . [T]he ultimate goal of Christian nationalist leaders isn’t fairness. It’s dominion.

I was chilled right through all 234 pages of that book.

Anyway, on my coffee break, I was reading this post on Right Wing Watch in which the author notes that “it seems as if the entire Religious Right movement has developed collective amnesia when it comes to the concept of dominionism, claiming never to have heard of it and to have no idea what it means.”

He also notes that Matt Barber, the Associate Dean for Career and Professional Development and Adjunct Assistant Professor of Law at Liberty University, asked in a tweet:

Can someone tell me what a “dominionist” is? Best I can tell it’s some kinda scary Christian monster that lives under liberals’ beds #silly

Right Wing Watch go on to point out that Barber’s employer sponsored conferences dedicated to the spread of dominionism and also highlights prominent Christian Right figures talking about the need for dominionism.

Meanwhile, at this juncture I was spluttering inwardly, agog at the fundies’ blatant denials (and not for the first time this past week), and burning with indignation that they could be so fucking ingeniously full of shit!

Then I thought, it’s not even ingenious, they’re just fucking full of shit! And I decided to fire off an email to Matt Barber (I was still on my coffee break, shut up). I asked him if he really thought it was a liberal fiction and was he aware that his own employer believed in dominionism? I appealed to him to be open-minded, you know, ’cause he’s a law professor and all, that’s what professors should be: open-minded, right? And I included the link to the Right Wing Watch post and hit send.

Then I went to make another coffee, since I was still on my coffee break (yes, really), and when I came back 10 minutes later, I saw that I had a reply from Barber! OMG OMG OMG HE’S REPLIED ALREADY! With a heavy heart, I told my barely commenced essay that it just had to wait a little bit longer before I could give it my love and devotion, and opened Barber’s email.

I will be out of the office returning Monday, August 29 and will have limited access to email. If the matter is urgent, please contact my asst. Kelsey LeBel at klebel@liberty.edu or call my mobile phone at [555 1234].

YOU BASTARD! How fucking convenient for you! How fucking inconvenient for me! Now I have no more excuses to procrastinate from doing my essay!

You say tomato…

Sometimes I find myself doing strange things, like taking photographs of a bottle of sauce. See?

Mind, it’s not such an odd activity to partake as it first appears. I am not sauced (thanks, Karen) or anything. It’s simply that I’ve been inspired . . . though some might say I’m just avoiding essay writing for university assignments.

Whatevs.

This is because I’ve been seeing a question on Facebook that has been circulating for a few weeks:

. . . and I am horrified — horrified! — that people are putting their tomato sauce bottles in the cupboard!

IT DOES NOT GO IN THE CUPBOARD! IT GOES IN THE FRIDGE! DON’T FUCKEN ARGUE WITH ME!

Assuming the question means after the bottle has been opened, of course.

Anyway, because Homo sapiens are such argumentive little shmendriks, here’s the goddamn proof:

Let’s have a closer look at that, shall we?

You know what to do, Silly Cupboard People.

Meanwhile, I suppose I should finish that essay.

Hey, snotface!

This afternoon, I’m on the train heading into town for lecture. Across the aisle from me sat a young man heavily focussed on picking his nose: finger jammed right up his left nostril, poke poke, scrape scrape. I could not completely ignore him as I could still see him out my peripheral vision. He was that vigorous and his body movements were attention-attracting.

So when a young woman sat next to me, I nearly wept with gratitude because it meant that I could no longer see the snothead. Thank you!, I telepathically wept to her. THANK YOU!

Except — and there are always exceptions — my gratitude was shortlived BECAUSE SHE STARTED PICKING, POKING AND SCRAPING HER NOSE TOO!

And not only that, she was FLICKING her snot on the ground between us. I was outraged. How fucking rude and how fucking disgusting and how fucking … ugh!

And you know what?! She berated ME when I asked her, “Do you mind not flicking your snot near me?” I mean, I thought that was a reasonable request, even if I did say it a bit louder than necessary.

“It’s just body stuff,” she half-shouted back at me. Woah, defensive much?

Anyway, fortunately it was my stop so I quickly got off, being ultra-careful to not touch her or step on her snot, and whinged about it on my Facebook wall, whereupon self-styled comedians posted comments such as this: 

pick it, lick it, roll it, flick it

and

Why the fuck would you flick it away? Om nom nom nom

and

Food, Glorious Food! We’re anxious to try it. Three snot snacks a day. Our favourite diet!

Trolls.

UPDATE

Just after I posted this, I saw this on FailBlog. I’ve put things into perspective now…

Timid men prefer the calm of despotism to the tempestuous sea of Liberty*

As I write this, America is yet again in the throes of election fever, this time with 37 Senate seats being voted across the country. The pre-vote polls haven’t been heartening, to say the least, and the sheer, utter stupidity of the Tea Party and individuals like Sarah Palin and Christine O’Donnell, among others,  is both heart-breaking and scorn-inducing.

I honestly cannot say a damn fair thing about these puerile, myopic shitheads. Ever since Barack Obama won the Presidency, they have been willfully intent on spreading gargantuan lies, fear and general bullshit across the country. Their screaming, screeching acts of violence and racism and overall bigotry has just been appalling. Their conspiracy theories… oh for fuck’s sake! It’s hard to believe at times that these morons are actually serious. No one could be that stupid, surely?! Well, yeah, they can…

Sweet suffering fuck.

~~~

Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert’s Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear over the weekend was a joy to watch. It was somewhat heartening, in the midst of the above asinine abyss, to see a greater number of people turn out — and continue to turn up long after the rally had started — than at Glenn Beck’s odious Restoring Honor Rally a couple of months ago.

For me, the highlight of the rally were not the performers, not Stewart and Colbert’s comedy, not Stewart’s brilliant closing speech, but the sea of pointed, satirical and irrevent handmade signs from the attendees. Some of my favourites:

The best one of all, which many people have seen already, is this:

* The title of this post comes from a quote from Thomas Jefferson, the third President of the United States and the principal author of the Declaration of Independence. I’d love to know what he would have to say about current American politics.

Democrazy

I had reason to be at Macquarie University recently. Being my first time on this campus, I had to have a stickybeak and marvel (read: shudder) at the architecture resembling the bleak and grey buildings reminiscent of the former Soviet Union. There was obviously a student union election coming up as there were heaps of flyers stuck all over the place, promising this and promising that. I may be left-leaning and pro-refugee/asylum seeker, but even I cringed at this poster:

I dislike Tony Abbott and his idea of what the Liberal Party should stand for — intensely — but it absolutely shits me when I see things like this; Tony Abbott’s Liberals ARE welcome, it’s part of what we call a democracy, for fuck’s sake. And I’ll bet on my copy of The Communist Manifesto that these lefties would be shouty about democracy and representation and the right to vote and all that jazz themselves.

Yet, here they are…

I can’t even imagine why the asylum seeker issue would be a student issue in terms of what student representatives are elected for — that is, representing university students. The other student group whose posters also littered the campus focused on the sort of day-to-day issues facing students: personal safety, student services, accommodation advice, career and academic advisors, and so on.

Quite frankly, that’s the kind of group I would have voted for. There are plenty of political/non-political groups students can join — or start one themselves — on particular social or political issues.

But that’s not what bugged me about “Left Focus”. It’s their arrogance in declaring Tony Abbott’s Liberals aren’t welcome. It’s embarrassing and self-defeating and myopic. It’s the exact same kind of attitude that come from the Young Liberals.

Somewhere down in Texas…

Random thoughts:

• You would think that, for me at least, reading my old diary and older posts on this blog would be encouraging and perhaps uplifting, because I’ve come so far. It’s not. It’s fucking depressing! I read back and I’m thinking, “Fucken hell, maybe I should have been or tried to be tougher, stronger, less whiney.” Then I kind of berate myself for being too tough. I have to remind myself that my depression has been very real and that I am still prone to what I call “mini-downs” (because in comparison to the past, they are mini and short-lived episodes of feeling blue). Yet, I can’t help feeling tough on myself. Anyway, I’m sure soon I’ll get over this weird sort of existential crisis or whatever the fuck this is! Just feeling annoyed with myself.

• I realise that there are some people who are just incapable of the old clich: “walking a mile in someone else’s shoes”. Maybe I’m one of them from time to time. It’s just that sometimes trying to make someone understand how you feel or how they make you feel is fucking impossible — and it’s not because you’re not explaining it properly or clearly, but because they can’t step out of their own “me, me, me” mindset and at least consider what the other person is saying and feeling, considering someone else’s perspective.

• I miss my cat. I very nearly bought a puppy the other day. Yes, I know a dog isn’t a cat. I just miss having a little animal to cuddle and care for. Soon. Soon I’ll get a job, a house and have a garden and get a cat and a dog.

• Except first I have put my overseas travel plans back on the agenda. I’ve invested a huge chunk of my tax return so that’s something to be happy about. I’m excited. The name Truth or Consequences in New Mexico enthrals me. It might turn out to be disappointing, but at least I’ve been there. And I want to see someone attempt to eat one of these whilst in Amarillo, Texas.

• Speaking of Texas…

The new Google Buzz

UPDATE: This update deserves to go on top of this post. This blog post is a scary example of why Google Buzz and Reader are really screwing people over.

Indeed, fuck you, Google.

Mini Update: And this for further tips on protecting your privacy in Google Reader.

————————————————–

It’s shit. It’s just like Twitter and Facebook combined. And it’s attracted a whole heap of criticism already. No one understands what the hell it’s supposed to do that Twitter and/or Facebook doesn’t already.

But the most strident criticism seems to be that it’s uninvited and an invasion of privacy. When you log into your Gmail account, you’re asked whether you want to activate it or not. If you decline, that’s not the end of it though, as I discovered.

First thing I noticed when I was still able to read the Buzz stream despite declining to have anything to do with it was that people who didn’t have each other’s email addresses could still see each other via a mutual friend (if they comment on that stream). I saw people I didn’t know talking to a mutual friend and realised I now know their full name.

This article explains it better:

When you first go into Google Buzz, it automatically sets you up with followers and people to follow.

A Google spokesperson tells us these people are chosen based on whom the users emails and chats with most using Gmail.

That’s fine.

The problem is that — by default — the people you follow and the people that follow you are made public to anyone who looks at your profile.

In other words, before you change any settings in Google Buzz, someone could go into your profile and see the people you email and chat with most.

After asking around on Twitter, I’m told you can turn Buzz off if you go to the bottom of your Gmail / Inbox page. There’s a “turn off Buzz” option.

No worries, done and done and all is right in the world. I carried on reading Google Reader and sharing items.

Minutes later, I got a message from a friend with whom I share items on Google Reader that my shared items were showing up in his Buzz feed.

Well, that’s weird. After a bit of rummaging around, I’ve found how you can stop that.

• If you’ve already turned off Buzz, you will need to reactivate it. Turn it back on.

• Go to Buzz tab below Inbox tab.

• Go to Connected Sites. Deactivate those you don’t want showing up in anyone’s Buzz stream (Google Reader, Flickr, Picasa, Google chat status, YouTube, Twitter) and save.

• You can unfollow people too. You can figure that out I’m sure! It won’t erase their email addresses from your contacts.

• Then, once that’s done, back to Inbox and “turn off Buzz”.

Anyway, that article above I linked to has more advice and news about Google’s official position.

This is a bad move, Google. I didn’t agree to this and neither did anyone else. I’m just glad I don’t use my surname in my Gmail account — imagine the fun if stalkers and other weirdos would have had had they seen it.

Disappointed.

UPDATE: More of what you can do to protect the privacy of others on your Gmail list can be found here. Thanks to @djackmanson.

OI OI OI Day

I’m sick of Australia Day already. I was sick of it as soon as Sam Kekovich’s “eat lamb on Australia Day” ads appeared on TV. I got more sick when clothing shops started selling apparel with the Australian flag on them. I nearly hurled when I read an Aldi brochure and saw they were selling Australian flags for five bucks. Probably made in China.

But most of all, I’m dreading the whole bloody “I am Australian and proud of it. Love it or leave it” bullshit that accompanies it these days. Much has been said about this bizarre new sense of “patriotism”. Where the hell did that kind of fuckwittery come from? How have we allowed racist elements perpetuate that to be “Aussie” is to shout OI OI OI and abuse ethnic groups on Australia Day? What’s with wearing the flag as a cape? It’s ironic that they love the flag so much but are completely ignorant with flag protocol.Those who claim to love the flag the most are the most disrespectful to it!

Anyway, on Facebook, there’s a group called “Fuck off, xenophobes – we’re full” and last night they sent members a message on how to survive Invasion Day. Or, rather, Survival Tips for Zombie Invasion Day. I present it here so that you, too, may find some assistance on getting through this horrid day.

Zombie invasions: usually confined to the realms of video games and horror movies, they are an actual phenomenon that occurs about once every year here in Australia. In order to avoid causing panic amongst the population, this annual day of terror has been given the less threatening name of ‘Australia Day’, a day which most sensible citizens choose to spend in the basement.

The zombies themselves are many, but they are easy to spot. For example, they usually congregate in groups, dress themselves in Australian flags and shout profanities. Their primary sustenance seems to be beer – unlike traditional zombies, they don’t eat brains, a fact which has been linked to their own deficiencies in this regard. Nevertheless, they are still quite dangerous, and have a penchant for attacking people who make eye contact with them and/or are of non-Anglo-Saxon appearance.

While most government agencies recommend that citizens stay indoors and wait until the ghouls have passed out from excessive alcohol consumption, there are some who brave the outside world and help maintain some semblance of order amidst the anarchy. If you are one of those courageous souls, here are some guidelines to help you survive the most dangerous 24 hours of the year:

1) Ensure that you have a basic knowledge of martial arts, in case a zombie requests you to “kiss the fuckin’ flag”. A swift kick to the balls of the antagonist is efficient, completely defensible in court and very, very satisfying.

2) Carry a can of kerosene and a cigarette lighter at all times. Setting an assailant’s flag-cape on fire is an effective distraction and will allow time for escape.

3) Keep a boombox on hand wherever possible, along with a CD of traditional Indian music. This “foreign shit” is known to enrage zombies, who generally prefer the foreign shit from America. Play CD loudly until zombies are driven away – if this doesn’t work, resort to heavy weaponry.

4) Summon the Pied Piper of Hamelin and get him to play ‘Waltzing Matilda’, ‘C’mon Aussie C’mon’, that terrible ‘True Blue’ song or a simple ‘Aussie Aussie Aussie’ chant, and dance off in the direction of a cliff. Alternately, he may choose to take them back to his magical kingdom to be zombie slaves. We’re not fussed.

So, whatever your plans for survival this Australia Day, just remember to keep safe, and do not go to the cricket under any circumstance. While we are sadly anticipating another day of zombie carnage on Tuesday, let us all be joined in the hope that, one day in the not too distant future, Australia will be a relatively zombie-free country; for, when that day comes, January 26 may even start to represent things like inclusiveness, optimism and celebration, instead of stupidity, racism, violence and those damn zombies.

Thanks for nothing, carbonated piss

Sometime ago, when I was hanging out with cosmic jester, I was told I had to try a Jagerbomb when we went to the pub. I’d never tried it before, didn’t even know what the hell it was. Anyway, turned out the pub didn’t have Red Bull and a Jagerbomb with something other than Red Bull was not a Jagerbomb and we weren’t going to drink something that wasn’t a real Jagerbomb. Red Bull or no bull. Well, that’s what cosmic jester told the barman and I. Who were we to question him?*

Anyway, shortly after that incident, I was having a very lethargic day at work so I went to get my usual caffeine hit (a flat white with soy milk and one sugar, please. No elitist lattes for me) but the cafe where I get my usual was busy with lunchtime workers. So I went to the supermarket to buy coffee flavoured milk. But I happen to be allergic to dairy produce. I can have a little but I’d been having too many that week. I ended up buying a Red Bull, inspired by the Jagerbomb-we-never-had and out of curiousity. Never had any of those energy drinks before. Too sceptical. And because they’re full of bad gunk.

Well, it worked! I was alert and alarmed and climbing the walls where I dusted off the cobwebs that had collected in the crevices. I actually did some work and made some phone calls to stakeholders that I didn’t like and had been putting off.

And for the rest of the day, I was awake. Wide awake. Even at 4pm when I usually seem to wilt and slump over my desk for one hour (where after 5pm I would strangely be wide awake again as I skipped happily out of the building), I was  sitting up straight and got a lot of work done.

The only thing I didn’t like was everytime I burped, even late that night, I could still taste the Red Bull. It’s so full of bad shit, really.

A few days later, I tried the sugar-free Red Bull. Same thing. Awake. Active. No stopping me now, baby.

It’s a good thing they’re expensive or I’d be developing an addiction to them.

Today, I was at the supermarket and feeling rather tired after a late night, so I thought I’d treat myself to a Red Bull, until I noticed that the other energy drink V is about 40 cents cheaper. Since I’m a cheapskate, I bought that instead. I must say, I really like the taste more than Red Bull. Not as syrupy-tasting for a start. And when I burp, I can’t taste it as much. Perfect for the next time my barista is too busy, I told myself gaily.

But then something strange happened about 30 minutes after consuming the V drink. I started to slide down in my chair. I leaned my head back on the headrest of the chair. I yawned. Loudly. Several times. I made a bad move on online Scrabble. I expressed my disgust for V to my Scrabble partner and said I was just going to lie down for 10 minutes.

So I did. And promptly dozed off for about 40 minutes. Seriously, what the fuck?!

V: guarana energy drink FAIL.

*CJ didn’t say “Red Bull or no bull” — I just made that up.