Bootstrap Nooses and the True Meaning of the Personal is Political

I have no idea how some could have an idea that the system is rigged and one’s own effort will not matter for whether one will succeed in a world where Bobo Brooks makes more than nearly every school teacher and nearly every starving artist or writer.

Bobo Brooks*, The NY Cum Stain on the Mattress:
The Character Factory

Oh Bobo. Laughable. Pathetic. Ultimate poster child for the underperforming, incompetent, and lazy child of privilege who lives in daily fear of the day actual meritocracy breaks loose and he has to actually work for his daily bread instead of waxing on about the Applebee’s fictional salad bars and gynocratic teacher overlords to assuage the consciences of fellow rich assholes who want to feel like their carefree piss parties splashing onto the poor are welcomed as liquid gold falling from the sky.

A sad caricature who wants to be seen as a modern Plato while possessing the intellect and reasoning ability of a particularly unthreatening puppy. A modern tragedy of the myths rich assholes tell to themselves, of how more meaningful one is when shepherded and protected by wingnut welfare producing comforting lies to afflicted the afflicted and comfort the comfortable, yet lacking anything of merit to show for it other than a forgettable stamp on the carousel of courtiers and jesters.

And Bob damn is he an irredeemable fuck.

Shorter (or the last port before Jungle):

  • Really? REALLY? I mean, for fuck’s sake, man, it’s a Bobo Brooks column titled “The Character Factory”. What the fuck do you think it’s about… No, it’s not about a literal factory that creates cartoons, that’s just… It’s about young, poor people being lazy and morally corrupt bastards for not magicking jobs out of the goddamn aether. Like pretty much every other Bobo post since his paymasters shitcanned this economy.

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Flip the Coin, Two-Face

No wait, bad analogy, in Two-Face’s character, one of the choices is actually good.

Ross Douchehat, The Motherfucking Scumsucking Bottomfeeding New York Times:
Obama’s Impeachment Game

Man, fuck the borked site, some things need to be waded after as if they were piranha-proof bikini bottoms. And in this particular carcass of our once proud vessel, it is the simple fact that the Republicans have completely lost the goddamn plot.

I know, hardly news, but the Republicans have managed to outdo themselves in their fervor to repeat Brazil’s performance against Germany in incompetence by flipping out over the fact that it’s been 5 and a half years and the blackity black man is still in high office and no one seems to be scared of them even though they’ve done their damnedest to legalize murder of the untermenschen in their little fiefdoms. As such, they’ve soiled their little nappies over calls for impeachment, figuring it worked well enough delegitimizing the last Democratic president, but apparently forgetting that one is supposed to have like, a cause, before banging the table about how being black and in power is against the law.

As such, the Republican House has managed to bring shame to that benighted and plagued palace of ineptitude and intentional ignorance by raising the call and saying that they will get that darn wasscally pwesident if it’s the last thing they do, you know, as soon as they find some lame excuse to semi-justify it. The current course led by John Semi-Erect Penis is to mumble something about how Obama isn’t doing enough to enforce the Health Care Law that Republicans have been blocking the enforcement on, because apparently conservatives never graduated from the school of playground arguments and think “stop hitting yourself” is legally binding.

Granted, it’s not like they’ve bothered to even pretend they care about the rule of law these days what with the Supreme Court giving a big middle finger to the Establishment Clause and well… pretty much every Republican action since Nixon first started his band of thieving scoundrels, but it’s one of those things that is so blatant that even Joe Nosepicker is forced to cock their head in genuine query.

Which has led to a fascinating round of kabuki as our Bought-and-Sold Media once again flash the dollar-signs printed on their solid diamond go-go shorts to try and deflect the damage of this hilarious own-goal and argue that Democrats are the real embarrassment for daring to notice and comment on this tragedy of errors. Because Democrats being alive is apparently too much to keep pretending that it’s at all an even choice between the Shit Party and the Cabal of Cannibals who Plan to Eat us in Our Sleep.

And for those “Intelligent” conservatives and “moderates” employed by likes of the motherfucking New York Times, the cover up is more hilarious than the fail itself. Roll our first clip.

Shorter (or the last port before Jungle):

  • What this broken window I’m standing next to with a baseball bat? Um, I didn’t do it. It was the black guy who lives here. Yeah, he caused this broken window, which doesn’t even exist. And we should be very ashamed that he’s taking valuable time from fixing this not at all broken window to ask questions like “who broke this window” and “what the fuck are you racist fucks doing?” Very, very ashamed. Bad Obama. We should impeac- I mean, ha ha what broken window?

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The Fucking Spurs are now my favorite NBA team.


While I root for the Pacers, when they have a chance, I have never really had a NBA team that I rooted for with regularity. Generally speaking, I really could not stand the Celtics or Lakers, rooted for Detroit and Chicago during the Thomas and Pippen tenures, but there has been one team that I have rooted for since David Robinson showed up; the Spurs.

Tim Duncan, is in my opinion, the classiest act in the league. Popovich is one of the finest coaches of all time. The reason for my crush is the recent hiring of Becky Hammon, the first paid female assistant coach of an NBA team. Fucking A!!!

A sixteen year veteran of the WNBA, Hammon spent the majority of last season with the Spurs while recovering from an ACL injury, earned the respect of the staff and a job.

Broken glass ceilings make wingnuts and me cry, though the tears fall for different reasons.


Libertarian (Ha!) stumbles blindly into a field of rakes

Glenn Harlan Reynolds, aka, Earnest T. Bass esq. casher of government paychecks and collector of Wingnut Welfare tries really hard to find something brilliant and substantive to say about the slutty sluts that lurk in every dark corner of his fevered imagining. Thanks to Roy, I have forced myself to stumble upon something which can not be unseen.

The third graph manages to crash the party and abscond with all of the cakes, booze and anything else not bolted to the foundation. A fucking graduate level thesis could be composed attempting to parse everything that is wrong with the following.


She’s also the authoress of a sophomoric psychosexual analysis of the Tsarnaev brothers. To a certain class of women in the media, it’s always about them, and their various mucous membranes.

Emphasis mine. Authoress, check, sophomoric, check. The blind squirrel has his nuts in a row, his buddy the Beaver has hewn a log into a Cricket Bat of “IT’S ALWAYS PROJECTION.

To a certain class of women in the media, it’s always about them, and their various mucous membranes.

Heh indeedy, indeed…

It appears that recent adjustments have resulted in the loss of our media library which kind of sucks…Anyway, consider this thread open.


Oi, What a Mess

So apparently one of the shapeless horrors we call interns (because exploiting the young for free labor is a practice we feel is wasted on the vulture capitalists of the world) thought that the bionic hamster breeding room needed a bit of spring cleaning and now the site is a wee bit epically fubared up at the moment as you may have noticed by the nesting comments, emo wordpress default theme, and the chilling sensation running down your spine whenever you try and scroll.

So where we are right now is kind of slammed out of most of the tools we use to do our snarking jobs here, leaving us with the unenviable position of needing to put up a throwaway post just to test which tools we still have access to all while being haunted with the possibility that this post could disappear into the aether that spawned it the moment the eldritch gears start cranking the Hamsterinator 3000 back to life.

Which means there has never been a better time for SHAMELESS SELF PROMOTION THEATRE!

Yes, indeedy, one of the few recent good things that has fallen in my lap in the last month is that I’m in a book. Specifically, this book.

It’s called “Letters For My Sisters” and is an anthology of trans* missives written to ourselves back in time. My entry, “Why You’ll Fight” naturally includes at least one time travel paradox joke for those into that sort of thing.

With this, my entrance into the secret trans* cabal that rules the world is at least 3.1% closer.

So yeah, consider this an open thread as I see how much of this got through.


Making it worse!? How could it be worse?

It sure seems like we always find new ways to mess things up around here. Such as today, again.

Things are running now, but I expect there is a lot of missing crap and issues. I’d urge you not to break anything, but I don’t see how you could do any worse. Please bear with us — as we do with you. You’re kind and generous like that.


Tricorner Foil Hats and Genocide Apologia

I really hope they wash their hands after writing this crap.

Robert Weissberg, American Klansmen:
When it Comes to Race, Why Worry About Facts?

It’s been strangely quiet this summer on the wingnut front. Sure, there is the standard level of stupid and the usual checklist of sexism, racism, classism, and homophobia, but it’s all sort of boiled down into flavorless pablum as if a British cook has taken over the talking points.

And it’s not like there haven’t been ample opportunities to go as vile as possible. The Hobby Lobby decision handing their dreams of marrying corporate oligarchy to religion as state, the usual stream of shooting sprees, Elliot Rodgers. But the output has been dull for the most part, content to just recycle the same old tired litany of half-remembered conspiracy theories and dog whistles before going on vacation to some slightly colder seaside town recently unthawed from the melting ice (which is totally something else’s fault, just like the economy).

And while zero effort affairs may be just fine for a wingnut audience who only need the thinnest of excuses to hate on their favorite targets, it does pose a bit of a problem for those of us who depend on a delicate ecosystem of snark and ridicule.

Though… that being said, there is something to mine from this fetid swamp, though perhaps in slightly shorter sojourns where we don’t have to pack in an entire day’s rations and a spare biohazard suit.

Shorter (or the last port before Jungle):

  • It is absolutely shameful that those shifty niggers are so lazy and uncaring of their plight that they seem to have completely failed to single-handedly defeat our racist criminal system and society, fix our broken economy, and magically make jobs and career advancement out of thin air. This pathetic failure proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that we whites who support a punitive and brutal system of oppression are the truly deserving and intelligent.

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Football! Soccer! Let’s Call the Whole Thing- Absolutely Fucking Amazing!

The secret commie mind-control device that is turning every single one of your children gay right now.

Bernie Goldberg, National Old Men Yelling At Clouds:
The Anti-American Pastime*


*Snort* Bwahahaha! And then, with the Bwahahaha! Oh man, my poor sides. One second. Just roll the PFFT-

Shorter (or the last port before Jungle):

  • Hurgle burgle, right-wing tribalism demands I rant about how boring and faggy football is and all the other standard boring cliches, which becomes hilarious after noting just how amazing this world cup has been in general, full of massive scoring displays against great teams and amazing close games, but becomes extra hilarious coming out the day of the historic 7-1 drubbing Germany gave Brazil.

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Dark Dungeons

Oh yeah, baby, wrap those tentacles around my big wet Earth.

John C. Cockbite*, John C. Cockbite, Auteur:
Dungeons and Perverts

Ah yes, the kink dungeon. A somewhat overwhelming place at first, however there is a welcoming air there and a lack of judgment. Whoever you are, whatever you are into, whoever you are attracted to, or how you identify… there is someone ten times freakier than you on the next St. Andrews Cross over. And that can be a freedom in a way in a world where freaky is wrong.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in the kink efforts to reclaim the words slut and pervert, turning them from cruel invectives and callous hate into badges of pride. Yes, one can proclaim, I am a pervert, I’m into the “weird” shit, but that does not put me at risk or mean I am inferior to some sad sack performing missionary position with his wife every 9 months because his company’s insurance plan just blocked contraception.

And it is no wonder that the right-wing is cottoning in to this effort and in their traditionally heavy handed manner-


What? It’s not? Really?

Then what is the article actually about?

Shorter (or the last port before Jungle):

  • AIEEEEE! Dungeons and Dragons has finally acknowledged that players can play as non-binary or trans* individuals in their demonic devil dice game, despite the fact that queer gamers and kinky nerds (huge overlap there) have been doing that for years and in fact fan additions to the game as well as rare items in canon have actually codified rules for gender swap spells or curses. Nonetheless, let me react to this no duh as if it was the very hand of Satan come to swallow our souls and turn all our most precious son resources into fags.

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Fuck the Fucking Supreme Court

Seriously, let’s get this floated up to the Supreme Court. If a corporation is a person, then can I marry it, wait until it dies and then inherit at least half its legal property as a result of the marriage? Cause, this bullshit circus of convenience and legal abstraction needs to be put to the test in the worst possible way. Someone marry Hobby Lobby and then take Hobby Lobby to criminal court for intimate partner abuse because of its controlling nature. Or gay marry it and then open it up to poly. Whatever it takes to put Scalia’s fear of everything not white male Catholic against this obscenity that is corporate personhood.

Well, no avoiding it, let’s dive right into the atrocity that everyone is talking about.

Ann Coulter, Sad Little Internet Corner of
America’s Favorite National Pastime: Hating Soccer

The US was so fucking close. I mean, where was Cameron in helping out against Lukaku in extra time? And oh man, that Julian Green strike? Or that sitter that Wondo missed? He’s going to be feeling that for awhile.

Oh well, it’s not the end of the world like so many seem to think it is. We had a great fucking campaign, survived the less deathy of the two Group of Death groups, and nearly put it away against a team that ate our fucking lunch less than a year ago. and hey, Costa Rica is still in it like the ultimate underdog they’ve been this tournament and-

Confusingly Not Bruce (aka V the K), Self Hating Homo Weekly:
SCOTUS rules for Hobby Lobby; Lefties Go Nanners

Right… The Fucking Fuck Court and their Hobby Lobby fuck you decision…
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