MSNBC ratings heroine Rachel Maddow’s blustery, bile-spewing fake uncle*, the scary death monster Pat Buchanan, is getting all worked up over John “Sweet Coconut” McCain’s new go-to threesome (replacing longtime favorites Burt Reynolds, Dom DeLuise and Charles Nelson Reilly): Barack Obama, Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid.
In fact, Buchanan can’t stop fantasizing about the possibility that should Obama become our next president, the Democratic trio might seductively embrace illegal aliens (that they’re illegal makes them that much sexier) and erotically tease the uninsured with promises of access to affordable health care.
These are some of the awful things Pat wants you to fear from an Obama administration:
According to the FBI, hate crimes decreased by 1 percent in 2007. Good news, right? Except for the part where anti-gay hate crimes actually increased by 6 percent. And what about this:
Racially motivated hate crimes accounted for more than half of that total. Religious bias was the second-leading motive for hate crimes, followed by prejudice against sexual orientation.
Within those categories, the FBI report found most hate crimes tended to be anti-black, anti-Jewish and anti-gay.
Egad! Not only am I gay, but as you can see from my photo on the upper right side of this page, I’m also Black. (That photo, by the way, is somewhat out of date. I’ve grown at least two inches since it was taken last year.) Or maybe I’m Jewish. I forget.
Either way, I’m feeling kind of nervous at the moment, and I’m glad I bookmarked this story about female bodyguards a few weeks ago. It might be worth looking into should those anti-gay hate crime numbers increase again in 2008. And who knows, maybe I’d end up with a female version of Kevin Costner (one who doesn’t perform lewd sex acts in front of mortified masseuses while we’re honeymooning in Scotland. That’s so gauche) and find myself singing a passionate rendition of “I Have Nothing” because of her. Or maybe we could scratch that last part, because no one wants to hear me sing. If you had any idea how terrible that sounds, you’d probably pay me not to.
“For three glorious days, I handed my lover plump strawberries and smoked duck meat…”
This weekend, The Observer, as part of their massive “Sex Uncovered” feature that is all about Britain and sex in the year 2008, published several sex diaries written by people from all walks of life. I had to read the one by Patricia, a 46-year-old lesbian, several times in order to wrap my brain around it. It’s presented in a somewhat choppy style, but I think it’s worth sharing. How often do lesbians get to write about their sex lives in The Observer?
My favorite parts:
My partner and I haven’t used a strap-on, certainly not since we moved from the other flat last year.
I keep going back to this sentence. What does it mean? It’s the “certainly not since we moved” part that really draws you in. It’s so intriguing. What’s so certain about it? Did they leave the strap-on back at the old flat? Did they toss it in with some odds and ends they donated to charity before moving?
On Grey’s Anatomy, saving lives is easier than having lesbian sex.
We have already established that I have not been a regular viewer of Grey’s Anatomy, that ABC show about Patrick Dempsey’s dimples and Eric Dane’s impressive pecs. (It is also, sometimes, about practicing medicine. And I think it might exist in part to drive viewers over to iTunes. That’s one of two possible explanations for why they showcase so much new music so prominently in each episode; the other is that the people who make TV shows have become so lazy — Nip/Tuck was also guilty of this back when I bothered tuning in — that they’d sooner crank up the music at dramatic moments than create big emotional pay-offs themselves. As long as Jeff Buckley’s rendition of “Hallelujah” keeps being licensed to everyone who asks for it, writers will never have to come up with anything deep and meaningful ever again!)
My reasons for not loyally watching Grey’s are simple: I like good writing (which does exist on Grey’s Anatomy, as far as I can tell, just not with a great deal of consistency), and I’m immune to the charms of hunky male doctors in various states of undress. Every time I’ve seen the show, or parts of the show, it has struck me as little more than a pop culture savvy version of a Harlequin novel, filmed in high-definition.
What does this man have to do with lesbians and puppies?
Remember the Swedish kennel owner who wanted to deprive an adorable puppy of the love of two mommies because she was a giant, unrepentant homophobe? Back in February she’d been ordered by a Stockholm court to pay her lesbian would-be customer damages for discrimination and harassment, a decision she disagreed with and later appealed. Today came word that her appeal was rejected, meaning she has to fork over 20,000 kronor (a little more than $2,500) for being a hateful jerk.
The weirdest part of the story was the kennel owner’s reasoning behind blocking the sale of the puppy: She didn’t want to sell a dog to a gay owner because of issues she had with transvestites, who she thought were involved with animal pornography.
What do lesbians have to do with transvestites? I know a lot of us are Eddie Izzard fans, but beyond that I don’t see much of a connection. And what do transvestites have to do with animal pornography? Everyone knows that transvestites are far too busy taking in old Steve Reeves movies and making a man with blond hair and a tan to get caught up in something as disgusting, and illegal, as that.
Robert Draper’s much-buzzed-about New York Times Magazine article about the chaos behind the scenes at the McCain campaign went live on the Times website this afternoon, my fellow prisoners, and it’s a doozy. Not as explosive as some might have hoped, but still an interesting read. It’s nine pages long, so here’s the abridged version for those of you with compromised attention spans:
This summer, Steve Schmidt, the large, bald man billed as the campaign’s chief strategist, was all, “Aaarrrghhh, we’re losing!” Not in those words, exactly — I’m taking some creative license here — but you get the point. So he got together with his fellow strategists and strategized, as strategists are wont to do. Let’s listen in:
“Should I clean the garage when I’m done with the lawn?”
The New York Times Magazine recently visited Rachel Maddow at home in Massachusetts and asked her a whole bunch of questions about her house, her favorite things, and how she spends her free time. Since my sister idolizes Rachel Maddow, I’d like to direct her attention to the first photograph at the link. Her eyes will immediately go to Rachel’s jeans and T-shirt, because she’s toyed with the idea of starting a “Free Rachel” campaign that would urge MSNBC to let their new “liberal queen of US news” dress however she wants on her show.* Once she’s done admiring her casual attire, I urge her to look at what’s behind Rachel.
That’s right, there are books. Lots of them. That’s because smart people read books. So would you please, sister whose name I won’t mention here, leave me alone about the size of my library from now on? You can continue to mock everything else you mock about me (though I wish you’d stop laughing maniacally at the thought of me getting lost in the grocery store; you know that never happened), but the books deserve a rest.
Also, take a look at how Rachel answers the question of what’s by her bed: “I read comics sometimes and graphic novels. I appreciate that genre.” You see that? Comics and graphic novels! So you can also shut up about my Buffy comics and graphic novels while you’re at it. If you meet me halfway on this, it’s possible I might — I stress the word “might” here, because it will be exceptionally difficult — stop making fun of your encyclopedic knowledge of Tegan and Sara’s tattoos.
Now, if we can awkwardly segue back to the Times piece, here are some other things we learned about Rachel Maddow: She’s a mustard person. She loses sleep worrying about loose nukes. To put her own mark on a house that mostly reflects her partner’s style, she placed a squirrel sculpture near the kitchen table. Writing makes her “want to blow [her] head off.” She has clown shoes, a Ford pickup and a Massachusetts fishing license. Most intriguingly, she says, “I have a little stockpile of lawn mowers, some of which it has been years since they worked. But it seems wrong to get rid of lawn mowers, so I keep them.”
Sadly, interviewer Edward Lewine wasn’t intrepid enough to ask the hard-hitting follow-up questions: Are they all walk-behinds or are there a few riding lawn mowers mixed in there as well? Are we talking about old-school reel mowers or more newfangled equipment? Has she tried a robotic lawn mower yet?
Robotic lawn mowers are pretty cool, except they don’t look robotic enough for my tastes: I want a lawn mower that’s modeled on Rosie from The Jetsons. Looking out your window to see an actual robot-looking robot cutting the lawn would go a long way in lessening the sting of the $1,500 price tag on most Robomowers. Or, what if there was a Short Circuit-inspired lawn mower? Throw in an extra $1,000 and you could probably get Steve Guttenberg and Ally Sheedy to show up with a leaf blower and hedge trimmers and finish your landscaping themselves.
UPDATE (7:22 PM): More good news about Rachel’s ratings can be found here. Also, my sister responds to the NYT Magazine piece: “Awww, that’s such a cute picture.” A few minutes later: “OMG! I always wanted a Ford Ranger when I was a kid!” Still no word on whether she’ll back off my library, but I’m choosing to be optimistic.
*After giving more consideration to how MSNBC promotes The Rachel Maddow Show, I’ve decided they should just use the tagline “Rachel Talks You Down.” She doesn’t really talk you down, mostly she just reassures you that you’re right to panic, but that’s why people like her and it’s why they like Keith Olbermann. Viewers find it comforting to know they’re not the only ones who are angered and appalled by what’s going on in our country. So it’s either something encouraging like “Rachel Talks You Down” or something completely honest like “Fox News is for Fucking Morons. MSNBC Isn’t.” (Then there could be a disclaimer that says, “Except for Morning Joe, David Gregory and Pat Buchanan.”)
Anyone else transfixed by it? I’m a non-Minnesotan who donated $50 to Elwyn Tinklenberg’s campaign yesterday after seeing his unhinged opponent, the incumbent Rep. Michele Bachmann, froth at the mouth about “anti-American” Democrats on Hardball. Hitting the ‘refresh’ button every time I’m near my computer, I’ve watched his donations grow from $15,000 or $20,000 to $131,000 and counting in less than 24 hours. It’s far more entertaining than anything on TV.
UPDATE: Tinklenberg has raised around $450,000 in the 24 hours since Bachmann’s Hardball appearance first aired. That is more than his campaign had raised in the last three months and “total nearly half of what it has raised to date,” according to newspaper reports. So the Internet has had its say, and the Internet voted against Michele Bachmann.
This is the part of the faux-lesbianism debate where we get a glimpse into Don Vito Corleone’s childhood in Sicily, his voyage to America, his adventures in rug-stealing with Clemenza, and the totally awesome way in which he disposed of Don Fanucci. (And that’s not even getting into Michael Corleone’s trip to Havana and his dealings with Hyman Roth, or Fredo’s fatal Johnny Ola slip-up.).
Sorry, I got confused there for a minute. This is the part of the faux-lesbianism debate in which an actual lesbian — Jane Czyzselska, editor of Diva magazine, which is Europe’s answer to Curve — weighs in, managing to do so in a non-sucky way. You know, unlike the Australian article that I complained about so bitterly earlier this week. Czyzselska was responding to Jodie Marsh’s recent declaration that she’s giving lesbianism a whirl.
Another night of no middle-class mentions from John McCain, and “maverick” was finally off the table. As promised, my thoughts on last night’s debate, roughly as it happened:
Oy vey with Joe the Plumber! Is he fucking John McCain or something? Is he related to Joe Six-pack? (He can’t be related to Joe Lieberman, or McCain would’ve mentioned it.) If only there was a fourth debate, John McCain could’ve told us a story about another old buddy of his, Joe Mama. (BTW, Joe the Plumber’s a real prize.)
Barack Obama says “profligate.” I love the word “profligate.”
John McCain is not George Bush … he just votes with him most of the time.
