September 17, 2007 - September 10, 2007
Friday, May 26, 2006
We're not sure what all that was about, but
one thing is for sure -- InstaPunk is NOT ready for prime time.
As reported previously, the discussion sessions were
a bit above and beyond past debates. InstaPunk was
bloodied, but he was still standing at the end of it all -- at least that is what we heard. Unfortunately, we weren't there --
so, it is left to us to sort it all out . . .
That is what we'll be doing over this Memorial Day weekend. If you'd like to help -- perhaps contribute and entry or two -- drop
us a line via the email address provided in the left panel. Otherwise, have a good time and go listen to Taps being played somewhere
near home -- maybe even shed a tear or two for those who aren't with us this year.
Mike Nifong, Lacrosse alum.
We were suspicious from the start. The folks at Instapunk are as
sympathetic and intimate with strippers as anyone. This particular
charge never rang true. But we kept our peace. We know that jocks can
be a**holes. In particular, we never liked Lacrosse jocks.
[Yes, InstaPunk arises from his bed
of pain. He's back. Because of this. Which he hates. Because he never
liked Lacrosse jocks.]
Well, Seamans wasn't
dumb. Better than what came after.
They were the superficialest, snobbiest, airheadedest bunch of clowns
who ever afflicted a private school -- back in the days before
Johns-Hopkins somehow swindled the nation into believing that a bunch
of halfwits sporting pre-Columbian accessories 24 hours a day
constituted a legitimate sports constituency. They never did. They
were, from the first, merely the signposts of empty-headed,
social-climbing, obsessive, quasi-untalented joke-jocks, who convinced
each other they were athletic because they came from the same affluent
three-county area in Maryland. They drank themselves into a stupor
over a title decided among Johns-Hopkins, Annapolis, and the honestly
named Terrapins of U. Maryland. Oh yeah. I forgot. There were also a
bunch of prep schools in the Maryland area that gave passing grades to
congressmen's sons who had filled in their athletic deficits by
swishing Lacrosse sticks over their Topsiders since the age of six.
Where do you think Terrapins come from?
Yecccch. Yeeeccccch. Thirty-five years after graduation from my
southern Pennsylvania prep school, I still despise them, even the
thought of them, their sneers, their sticks whooshing day and night,
their Sperry Topsiders slap-slapping the paths, their consonantless,
To my mind, Lacrosse players are the bottom of the bottom-feeders.
So I waited for the rape case to be made against the Duke dudes. Only
problem:† No case.
You see. I hate Lacrosse players. But I don't get to ruin their lives
by leveling empty charges at them. Just to pose one example, say I'm a
woman who's at least momentarily attractive to Lacrosse players.† I
don't get to accuse three of them of raping me when I've already
admitted to having sex with three other non-Lacrosse-playing dudes on
the same night. I don't get to change my story back and forth --
nothing, rape, gang rape, rape by the richest Lacrosse players -- when
I'm a stripper who's too drunk to to remember what really happened. If
It can even be the case that my life is sad and unfair. I can call
myself an exotic dancer. I can pretend I don't make money by taking my
clothes off for Lacrosse players (Yecccch!), which -- when it
accidentally happens -- causes me to drink too much and have sex with
lots of men before I ever meet the rich stick-wielding dudes.
But if I want to prove that Lacrosse dudes raped me, I'd really better
be able to remember the incident, name names, produce evidence beyond
residual signs of arousal and subsequent tenderness in my loins, and
have some kind of circumstantial evidence that rich white boys forced
me to have sex against my will.
I'd also better have a district attorney on my side who isn't a total
race-whore sellout with no case beyond a desire to inflame racial
tensions to win an election.
Let me sum up. When I quit pretending that I'm a stripper, I still hate
Lacrosse players. A lot. But what I hate worse are scheming whores who
assume they can frame men for rapes they didn't commit. And worst of
all, I hate prosecutors.
Yeah, unscrupulous prosecutors are the worst. Like Mike Nifong,
spread-eagled political opportunist. Like the first Maryland Lacrossers
I ever knew. Social climbers armed with a stick. Whoosh whoosh. Whore
of whores. But I also hate even the lesser prosecutors† -- the
ones who overcharge their clients even when they're not overstating the
case against defendants who aren't savvy enough to get real legal help hire a more expensive lawyer
On the other hand, maybe there's justice in the injustice of bullies
who learn that other people are alive only by learning that they
aren't. Condolences to all the dead people. Whoosh whoosh.
But that's just me. Recuperating from the Debate. [I gave as good as I got. Who out there
has ever publicly disagreed with Insect Brain?]
Get the man some topsiders and a stick. Then shoot him. It worked for
Thursday, May 25, 2006
The World is Catching
and Joan and Cate and Brad
five weeks ago, we published a scoop about George Clooney's new movie Weekend at Berchtesgaden
people laughed at the reported casting of Barba Streisand as Joseph
Goebbels and Whoopi Goldberg as Nicholas von Ribbentrop. We may have
been slightly premature about Clooney's next project, but we were right
on the money about the newest fad in movie-making -- casting against
gender type. Today's Drudge contains an item about a new film biography
of Bob Dylan, in which one of multiple actors playing him† is Cate
[O]n Dylan's birthday, the Hollywood
press reported that Blanchett would be among several actors -- also
including "Brokeback Mountain" star Heath Ledger and Richard Gere -- to
portray the great American folksinger in a film.
Blanchette as Dylan. Of course. Wrong nationality, wrong ethnic type, wrong sex -- sounds about right
to us -- right in the sense that the world is indeed catching up with
Instapunk predictions. The article fails in one respect, though; it
doesn't mention the equally sensational casting of the
Joan Baez role, which will be played by Brad Pitt. Our sources tell us
that Tom Cruise was briefly in line for the part but was considered
"too deeply weird" by the producers to be convincing as Baez. (Yeah,
that doesn't sound right to us, either. Oh well.)
We suspect this is the beginning of an onslaught of double-switch
casting, which offers multiple advantages to the Hollywood movie
industry. First, as Instapunk pointed out just a
few days ago
a real and increasing shortage of male actors capable of playing men
who aren't metrosexual castrati. Couple this with the increasing
aggressiveness and ambition of contemporary women, and you have a
solution to a longstanding problem. There still aren't many interesting
dramatic parts for women, for some reason, and today's female actors
are therefore determined to cross gender lines to get more screen time
and juicier dialogue. Filmgoers will benefit too, particularly in the
red states where attendance at Hollywood movies has been declining
because of the perception that they're way too gay. Here's where the
double-switch can come to the rescue at the box office. When Cate and
Brad get it on as Bob and Joan, viewers will still be able to imagine
that the traditional unseen parts are operating in traditional ways,
even though the visible parts are bass-ackwards, if you know what we
mean. Everybody wins. Female actors get to pretend they're brilliant
men instead of frustrated feminists. Male actors get to indulge their
ballooning feminine side. Movie audiences get to pretend that sex
itself is still pretty much proceeding the way it always used to (even
if it isn't). And Hollywood producers will make enough money to keep
all their gay lovers happy.
Here are some similar projects rumored to be in the works:
A new film biography of Napoleon with
Janeane Garofalo as the short, humorless emperor and Orlando Bloom as
A blockbuster remake of Gone With
the Wind starring Ashton Kutcher as Scarlett, Demi Moore as
Rhett, Halle Berry as Ashley, and Bruce Willis as Hattie McDaniel.
An Andrew Lloyd Webber musical adaptation of Citizen Kane in which the eponymous
protagonist will be played by Rosie O'Donnell and Dakota Fanning (Kane
as a child sledding on Rosebud), while the part of Kane's tragically
unhappy wife will be filled by Johnny Depp.
What's that? You're not excited about these developments? Then we won't
even mention the planned Godfather
remake with Kirstie Allie as Don Corleone, Anjelina Jolie as Michael,
and Matt Damon as Diane Keaton. Not one† word.
Bet you're sorry now.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
People are being very unkind to the Big Fella who sits on top of the
House of Representatives. Sure, he defended William Jefferson's right
not to have his congressional stash searched. Does that mean he should
be treated like this
Iím now a former republican
tells President Bush FBI raid was unconstitutional
Just sent this to my congressman:
Please inform the Republican leadership that Iíve listened carefully to
their comments about Mr. Jefferson and the searching of his office. I
have thought about what they have said and decided to change my party
affiliation. I no longer wish to be counted as a republican. The
speaker has been a weak voice for cutting spending and for immigration
reform but a loud voice when his own privilege is at stake.
I no longer know what this party stands for except apparently the
self-protection of its own elected officials.
Sheesh. If you kept a full-size refrigerator in your
suit, wouldn't you be just a
little protective of your right to have a 12-course meal
when you want one without the FBI crawling up inside your haberdashery?
Sure you would. Even the thought of all those flatfoots rooting through
your private comestibles would be enough to give you an upset tummy.
(And it takes a BIG tummy to feel all of William Jefferson's pain about
now.) As for all that "unconstitutional" talk, The Speaker has been way
the past few years to do more than scan the dadblasted thing -- or
failing that, have it scanned for him by a waiter
what he probably really meant to say was that searching congressional
refrigerators is uncondimental
Cut him some slack. If you want to know exactly how much slack he
needs, you can contact his tailor here
Not surprisingly, Michelle Malkin is linking to more abuse
What's-his-name. She's obviously way too thin to understand the
sensitivity of the fridge issue.