Nuthin’ lahk beein’ wun with naychur…
How do you solve a problem like Maria? Governor Sanford does it by writing her emails, like this one in which he bloviates on becoming one with the earth and imagines what it must be like to be a man who works with his hands:
“…I went out and ran the excavator with lights until the sun came up. To me, and I suspect no one else on earth, there is something wonderful about listening to country music playing in the cab, air conditioner running, the hum of a huge diesel engine in the back ground, the tranquillity that comes with being in a virtual wilderness of trees and marsh, the day breaking and vibrant pink coming alive in the morning clouds – and getting to build something with each scoop of dirt.”
What? He was just kidding…
The true colors of a certain group of Americans are coming into ever-clearer focus through an almost daily litany of public comments. Look at this beaut from a GOP activist out of South Carolina, who has some thoughts about the genetic relationship between an escaped gorilla and our first lady. But it’s okay, right? Since he only meant it as a joke. And he’s so sorry if he offended anybody. And now that he’s apologized, everyone can go on about their business guilt free in that Sunday-confession-whole-bunch-of-Hail-Marys sort of way.
I’m guessing he’s actually sorry he got caught and not at all sorry about what he said. But thanks to a publicized screen-grab of the indecent status update on his Facebook account, and–dagnabbit!–the poor bastard has no choice but to make the apologies sound heartfelt, no matter how much teeth grinding he has to endure.
People: We must be vigilant when it comes to white right-wingers who perceive themselves to be increasingly marginalized. These people walk among us, work with us, pass us in the produce section at the grocery store. I’ve seen them. They lurch toward me wide-eyed, with arms outstretched to touch my kid’s hair without asking.
Memo to the fear-mongers
The House Minority Leader John Boehner says that bringing Guantanamo detainees to the United States for trial and future detention is “…the first step in the Democrats’ plan to import terrorists into America.” I’d like to point out to Mr. Boehner that we don’t need to import any terrorists because we’re breeding them, incubating them, nourishing and growing and arming them right here at home.
Maybe Boehner is just confused. In his world, a terrorist is brown and Muslim. The reality is that the domestic Boogeyman looks a whole lot more like the reflection Boehner must see in the mirror each morning: Angry and pink-faced and pent-up and somehow disenfranchised.
And P.S.
“My girlfriend…she sometimes claims I’m racist, so we have this running joke where if I meet a black person…whether that’s on the basketball court or at a party, I say “Hey…I have a new black friend, I can’t be racist.” -Josh Board, San Diego Weekly Reader, April 8, 2009
Hahahaha! Isn’t that funny? Hahahahaha. Haha. Ha.
(And no, I’m not providing links because Board doesn’t deserve the traffic. I know those of you who might be interested are savvy enough to find what you need.)
The San Diego Reader endorses racism
Josh Board is a writer (if he can be called that) for The Reader, another local San Diego paper. He sent me some fan mail earlier this month saying he thought I was a great addition to CityBeat. We chatted back and forth for a minute, during which time I politely outed myself as a vehement critic of a particular piece he’d written in March. He didn’t seem too phased and continued to compliment my writing and also commented on my “cute kid” (he must have looked at the pics here). He subsequently referred to Ruby as “him” and “he” but it doesn’t much matter as it all seems completely disingenuous now.
Yesterday, on the blog he writes for The Reader, Board attacked a recent CityBeat editorial. He then sent a link to our editor, Dave Rolland, who sent it to a number of the CB writers. I, of course, responded to everyone in the string, calling Board out on his nonsensical, racist diatribe (I have called him on his sexism before, too) and his complete lack of ability to weave coherent sentences together. Then I suggested that he educate himself about racism by reading Why Are All The Black Kids Sitting Together In The Cafeteria?, by Beverly Daniel Tatum. He had some suggestions for me, too, in an email that he removed from the string and sent only to me:
You should try finding (or writing) a book about why black kids sit in cars, with their stereos blasting, as if they think everyone else wants to hear 50 Cent. Or, why they sit in movie theatres making noise, talking on cell phones or at the screen, as if they are Chris Rock.
I’m sure you’ll get to deal with all that fun, when your little one grows up.
(read Freakanomics, they talk about how adopted kids are never as smart…because they get the intelligence from the folks that gave them up).
So, good luck with that.
Geez, now that I think about it, it’s probably good you couldn’t have kids. It’s one less idiot that has your genes in this world.
J
This man is employed by The Reader.
Please consider this the next time you pick up the publication.
Outrage
Today I’m recommending you read this open letter to AIG. It was cathartic reading it, so it must have been cathartic writing it. Melanie put a breathtaking human face to the story and now, I’m going to add another one:
I like her ending, only I wouldn’t have been so polite as to use asterisks. I’m too blinded by rage to even locate the asterisk key when I think about the futures stolen by these unscrupulous, relentless crooks who are now suing the US government for…back…taxes…
Mental Health Break
This is NexactlySFW, but only because of the language (just turn down the V a little bit). And it’s also probably not very safe for any feminists without a sense of humor. But if you’re pissed off this morning because you learned, during day-care-drop-off, that post-doc fellows at UCSD pay less than half what you pay for the very limited parking or if, in the very first email you checked today, you were belittled by a man whose sense of self-importance is bigger than the national deficit, this will right your mood again.
(H/T to my very first college boyfriend.)