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Here’s another in a long line of Muslim fear-mongering emails intended to discredit Barack, probably because he’s not white. There are two components to this email, the first being a comment obviously written by someone OTHER than the author of the column that immediately follows. We should note that the author of the column did NOT write this little header bit of information. I don’t want to imply that Ken Blackwell had anything to do with the initial beginning of the email.

You’ll notice how the author of this essay claims that Obama has “Hollywood, San Francisco” values rather than “Middle American” values, which we can only assume to mean “white values.” After all, aren’t people in Hollywood and San Francisco just as American as everyone else? I mean, they do hold citizenship, don’t they?

I’m constantly offended that somehow having populist values gets you discredited by calling your values “liberal Hollywood” values, as if Mel Gibson, Arnold, and Bruce Willis didn’t also come from Hollywood, all noted conservatives. So liberals like me who live in a city of more than a million people, we aren’t Americans too? Strange because I feel American. They keep letting me vote like an American. I’m pretty sure I was born in this country which, under The Constitution, gives me American citizenship. Strange.

Here’s the most interesting bit of the whole email:

Subject: Kind of scary, wouldn’t you think?
Remember–God is good, and is in time, on time–every time.
According to The Book of Revelation the anti-christ is:
The anti-christ will be a man, in his 40s, of MUSLIM descent, who will deceive the nations with persuasive language, and have a MASSIVE Christ-like appeal….the prophecy says that people will flock to him and he will promise false hope and world peace, and when he is in power, will destroy everything. Is it OBAMA??
I STRONGLY URGE each one of you to repost this as many times as you can! Each opportunity that you have to send it to a friend or media outlet…do it!
If you think I am crazy..I’m sorry but I refuse to take a chance on the “unknown”

First off, let’s get one thing straight about the book of Revelations. It was written a long time ago and was meant to be a cautionary tale about the fall of Rome, or at least that’s how I’ve heard the  literary interpretation. Sorry to disappoint you, but Revelations didn’t predict the Kennedy assassination, nor did it predict that the twin towers would fall or that Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston would break up. Instead, all of that obfuscated language is really supposed to be a tale about the fall of Rome and Roman society, once the mightiest empire on the planet. I’m no biblical scholar, but I feel I can safely predict that the “Antichrist” isn’t Barack Obama because the “Antichrist” is also an allegory.

Of course, I don’t put a whole lot of faith in the idea that God is going to terrorize the living crap out of us with this fire and brimstone stuff anyway. Literal interpreters just scare me because anybody could be the Antichrist, and it always seems like the Antichrist is right here, right now. How many hundreds of years have people been crying wolf about the existence of an Antichrist? When are we all going to stop freaking out about such hateful speech and ignore nuts who claim these things?

If someone is powerful or hated enough, he (or she) could be the Antichrist. And who hasn’t been called the Antichrist? Saddam Hussein, Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, and more have all been called the incarnate of Satan. Frankly I’m a little tired of all this hate-mongering speech. And you thought the things Obama’s pastor said were bad. Sorry to disappoint, but everything in Revelations already happened. Stop worrying about the end of the world and go get yourself some ice cream.

Now, onto the accompanying editorial which was NOT written by the same person who wrote the inflammatory statement above. As it says, this column did, in fact, appear in the New York Sun which, by all accounts, is way inferior to other newspapers in New York. But I digress. This column was published February 14–yes, Valentine’s Day–of this year. Enjoy.

Ken Blackwell – Columnist for the New York Sun

It’s an amazing time to be alive in America. We’re in a year of firsts in this presidential election: the first viable woman candidate; the first viable African-American candidate; and, a candidate who is the first front-running freedom fighter over 70. The next president of America will be a first.

We won’t truly be in an election of firsts, however, until we judge every candidate by where they stand. We won’t arrive where we should be until we no longer talk about skin color or gender. Now that Barack Obama steps to the front of the Democratic field, we need to stop talking about his race, and start talking about his policies and his politics.

The reality is this: Though the Democrats will not have a nominee until August, unless Hillary Clinton drops out, Mr. Obama is now the frontrunner, and its time America takes a closer and deeper look at him. Some pundits are calling him the next John F. Kennedy. He’s not. He’s the next George McGovern. And it’s time people learned the facts.

Because the truth is that Mr. Obama is the single most liberal senator in the entire U.S. Senate. He is more liberal than Ted Kennedy, Bernie Sanders, or Mrs. Clinton. Never in my life have I seen a presidential frontrunner whose rhetoric is so far removed from his record. Walter Mondale promised to raise our taxes, and he lost. George McGovern promised military weakness, and he lost. Michael Dukakis promised a liberal domestic agenda, and he lost.

Yet Mr. Obama is promising all those things, and he’s not behind in the polls. Why? Because the press has dealt with him as if he were in a beauty pageant. Mr. Obama talks about getting past party, getting past red and blue, to lead the United States of America. But let’s look at the more defined strokes of who he is underneath this superficial “beauty.”

I realize this column was written before the pastor at Obama’s church came into some pretty hot water, but I must protest this point. If this election was really being treated like a beauty pageant, then why would the media focus on clearly embarrassing issues like this one?

Start with national security, since the president’s most important duties are as commander-in-chief. Over the summer, Mr. Obama talked about invading Pakistan, a nation armed with nuclear weapons; meeting without preconditions with Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, who vows to destroy Israel and create another Holocaust; and Kim Jong II, who is murdering and starving his people, but emphasized that the nuclear option was off the table against terrorists – something no president has ever taken off the table since w e created nuclear weapons in the 1940s. Even Democrats who have worked in national security condemned all of those remarks. Mr. Obama is a foreign-policy novice who would put our national security at risk.

Here’s an important point to make about the president of Iran. I realize that Ahmadinejad is a scary guy. He says scary things and makes scary threats. Here’s the problem: he doesn’t have any actual authority. It’s true. The president of Iran has a diplomatic role only, but has no authority or power to change things. In fact, this rests with a rather scary-sounding position called the “Supreme Leader.” Ahmadinejad is the one we’re scared of, but we don’t even know the name or face of the Supreme Leader, the one actually mankind decisions. But let’s move on…

Next, consider economic policy. For all its faults, our health care system is the strongest in the world. And free trade agreements, created by Bill Clinton as well as President Bush, have made more goods more affordable so that even people of modest means can live a life that no one imagined a generation ago. Yet Mr. Obama promises to raise taxes on “the rich.” How to fix Social Security? Raise taxes. How to fix Medicare? Raise taxes. Prescription drugs? Raise taxes. Free college? Raise taxes. Socialize medicine? Raise taxes. His solution to everything is to have government take it over. Big Brother on steroids, funded by your paycheck.

Finally, look at the social issues. Mr. Obama had the audacity to open a stadium rally by saying, “All praise and glory to God!” but says that Christian leaders speaking for life and marriage have “hijacked” – hijacked – Christianity. He is pro-partial birth abortion, and promises to appoint Supreme Court justices who will rule any restriction on it unconstitutional. He espouses the abortion views of Margaret Sanger, one of the early advocates of racial cleansing. His spiritual leaders endorse homosexual marriage, and he is moving in that direction. In Illinois, he refused to vote against a statewide ban – ban – on all handguns in the state. These are radical left, Hollywood, and San Francisco values, not Middle America values.

The real Mr. Obama is an easy target for the general election. Mrs. Clinton is a far tougher opponent. But Mr. Obama could win if people don’t start looking behind his veneer and flowery speeches. His vision of “bringing America together” means saying that those who disagree with his agenda for America are hijackers or warmongers. Uniting the country means adopting his liberal agenda and abandoning any conflicting beliefs.

But right now everyone is talking about how eloquent of a speaker he is and – yes – they’re talking about his race. Those should never be the factors on which we base our choice for president. Mr. Obama’s radical agenda sets him far outside the American mainstream, to the left of Mrs. Clinton.

It’s time to talk about the real Barack Obama. In an election of firsts, let’s first make sure we elect the person who is qualified to be our president in a nuclear age during a global civilizational war.

Now the points made in this article are all rather ridiculous and I’ll save those arguments for another time. The point is that people are needlessly afraid of Barack Obama. This is why the point of this column is flawed. Blackwell claims we should forget the issue of race in this election, yet this email arrived with a header claiming that Obama isn’t worth voting for because he’s not white and therefore is somehow the Antichrist. He’s not just a bad leader, he’s the incarnate of evil.

See, race is an issue. There is still racism to battle, unfortunately. Until then, remember your critical thinking skills. Don’t let religious zealotry cloud you from the real issue. This is an election, not a religious war. Let’s treat it accordingly.

continued from yesterday…

Human Nature: Charlie Kauffman has written some outstanding movies, most notably Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Adaptation, and Being John Malkovich. Somewhere in between his writing successes, he wrote a great movie called Human Nature that not nearly enough people saw. Human Nature combines the talents of Michel Gondry and Kauffman, the great team that produced Eternal Sunshine. What’s different about Human Nature is how… normal it is. Well, it’s normal compared to the mind-erasing hallucinations of Eternal Sunshine and the orchid-snorting of Adaptation.

Human Nature is the story of three people who are trying to figure out what it really means to be human. Patricia Arquette plays a woman with a genetic condition that leaves here covered in hair, so she goes and lives in the wild. Rhys Ifans plays a man who has lived as an ape since he was a boy. And Tim Robbins really loves manners. Now that I think about it, this movie isn’t so normal after all. It’s bitter sweet and more than a little dystopian. I suggest everyone go see it. Also, we don’t call them pygmy chimps anymore. We call them bonobos, but whatevs.

American Psycho: I saw this movie in high school and didn’t get it, but thought I should like it because I didn’t understand what was going on. I knew, on the surface, what the real story was: an eighties-era yuppie played by Christian Bale is obsessed with killing people, especially women. He’s also a narcissistic asshole who likes to lecture prostitutes on how awesome Huey Lewis and the News is. Then the movie ends in a way that leaves you scratching your head. What, exactly, happened here? Who’s fooling who? Also, I love that this movie had a female director.

It’s Bale’s Patrick Bateman that really steals the show, not because of how well-placed he is in the scheme of things, but how misplaced he is. He is, in every sense of the word, a total dork. A homicidal dork, but a dork nonetheless. He’s obsessed with cheesy music and obsessed over New York yuppie things like getting reservations, snorting coke, and his expensive printed business cards. All this obsession is almost endearing, but ultimately funny in a very, very dark kind of way. Oh, and he kills people. Did I mention that?

Happiness: Go, right now, and see this movie. Before I even introduce you to the story, go see this movie and come back to me with a report. What did you think? My husband and I have played this game with a lot of people, and are always amused at the great reactions by people who think they’re just seeing some indie Phillip Seymour Hoffman movie. Instead they travel to the depths of the human soul, the darkest of places imaginable in the human spirit. Plus, you know, it’s kind of funny.

Happiness is one of those multiple character movies, where several different people have interacting stories as each of the characters tries to figure out what happiness really means. The aforementioned Hoffman plays a pervert who’s deathly afraid of real women but loves to call them and, well, say inappropriate things. Laura Flynn Boyle’s character could have any man she wants, but chooses the company of… Hoffman’s character. The best character is played by Dylan Baker, a child molester who battles his demons but ends up failing miserably. All in all, this movie is set on full “creep out” mode. It’s dirty. It’s provocative. You MUST see it right away.

The Big Lebowski: Apparently, this movie isn’t for children, because I recall vividly the first time I saw this movie, right after it came out of video. I didn’t like it. I hated it, in fact, but I was only barely a teenager at the time. This movie is not worth wasting on youth who won’t get it. Years later, late at night in someone’s college dorm room, I rediscovered The Big Lebowski and it changed my life. The movie is hilarious, don’t get me wrong, but it’s just the right kind of hilarious tragedy. Nothing seems to go right for The Dude: his car is stolen, then found, then crashed, then beaten, then set on fire. Thugs piss on his rug which “really tied the room together.” His friendships with Walter and Donnie are put on the line.

This movie is like Alice in Wonderland, but with pot, booze, bowling, Germans, and kidnapping. The Dude (the wonderfully red-eyed Jeff Bridges) must travel to all ends of the Earth when all he ever wanted was his rug back. The tale is really labarynthian, almost like a Greek myth set in early ’90s Los Angeles. The whole movie feels like an in-joke, the kind of joke you share with your friends that nobody else understands. You, too, can share this movie with millions of other fans, especially the ones that flock to Lebowski festivals all over the country. I kid you not. These people have conventions. That’s how good this movie is.

Grosse Pointe Blank: The year was 1997 and my parents decided to leave me at home alone all weekend while they went out of town. I was in high school, but insisted that this time alone for two short days would be good for me. However, as Saturday rolled around and there wasn’t anything good on TV anymore, I was starting to get really, really bored. We had the Internet, but we were cruising on ‘97 speed pipes, a 56K dial-up connection that tied up the phone lines. About a mile away from the house was a little strip mall with a Wal-Mart, a Movie Gallery, and a small, hometown grocery store. I stopped by the Movie Gallery to rent a movie and ended up with a sweet VHS copy of Grosse Pointe Blank in my backpack. I also brought home some snacks from the grocery store, if that’s important.

Even at my young and impressionable age, I loved Grosse Pointe Blank. The story centers around Martin Blank (Cusack) who apparently freaked out on the night of prom and ran off to join the military, only to be trained as an assassin, now working freelance gigs. He decided to return to Grosse Pointe–a suburb of Detroit–in order to attend his high school reunion. I loved the terrific yet comic violence that was spattered throughout the whole movie. In one scene, John Cusack returns from killing a an assassin sent to kill him. He’s just stabbed him with a pen. He sits down at the bar, and casually orders a drink while glistening with sweat. He thanks the man who gave him the pen. The whole scene is so tragically comic, it’s a near-perfect moment. Makes you wish John Cusack was in good movies again.

Black comedies are awesome. The first time I knew I really loved a good black comedy was when I saw Dr. Strangelove in high school. It was then that I finally realized the true meaning of both Cold War paranoia and comedy irreverence. To me, there was no greater feat than the one pulled by Kubrick in Strangelove. He managed to instill a sense of foreboding fear while, at the same time, making a movie with Slim Pickins. In fact, Dr. Strangelove is often pointed to as the granddaddy of all black comedy, the coup de grâce of bleak and funny film, the movie that made it all happen. So, without further adieu, I present to you black comedies that I have known and loved, in no particular order:

Death to Smoochy: This 2002 film was widely regarded as a failure as a movie and a total dud in the theaters. Where this movie lacked in coin, it made up for in cultish brilliance. Director Danny DeVito often called this movie a cross between Pulp Fiction and Barney which, in and of itself, makes this movie watchable if for no other reason than to see what those two genres would look like collided. Critics hated the results, but kids like myself, raised on movies like Pulp Fiction and shows like Barney and Friends, were in awe. The story is typical, about the rise and fall of a star, but the trappings are brilliant: the Irish gang, the colorful set dressing, the vengeful murder plot. Good stuff.

Confessions of a Dangerous Mind: George Clooney decided to direct a movie, which often sets movie critics’ faces to grimace. After all, where does some handsome-boy and former TV actor like George Clooney get off in wanting to direct a feature film? All grumbling ceased when the movie came out and was not only funny but visually stunning. Low-tech camera tricks abound, and everyone got the general sense that this Clooney kid knew what he was doing.

Confessions is the story of Chuck Barris, former host of The Gong Show and pioneer of trash TV with shows like The Newlywed Game. In an autobiography he wrote in the eighties, Barris also mentions that, in addition to being a game show host, he was also an assassin for the CIA. This visually stunning movie shows what happens when you mix the intrigue of espionage with, well, The Gong Show.

Dr. Strangelove: The granddaddy of all black comedy, Dr. Strangelove had a significant impact on me as a teenager. I’d never quite understood Cold War-era nuclear paranoia until I saw this movie. As a child of the eighties, I didn’t really have to. The Wall was already down by the time I began learning how to ride a bike, and the democratic revolution in Russia played softly in the background as I played with Barbies. When I finally saw this movie, I understood why everyone was so crazy back then. It took a black comedy about a situation that could never happen to make me realize why everyone was so afraid of a nuclear war with the USSR.

Dr. Strangelove also began my love affair with George C. Scott, one of those actors I missed out on because of my age. A year later, I saw Patton, a movie that also blew my mind. I often wondered why they didn’t make movies like that anymore. Where there any great actors anymore? Where were the George C. Scott’s of my generation who could chew through the dialogue of Dr. Strangelove, and do so with such depth and sincerity, making the movie’s hilarious premise? While I’m still waiting, I could watch this black comedy again and again.

continued tomorrow…

I grew up in the Ozarks near one of the most beautiful state parks in the state and probably the midwest, Ha Ha Tonka state park. This little area is nestled up against a quiet arm of the Lake of the Ozarks and includes an island, a castle, a spring, cliffs, and karst everywhere.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I was reading Metacritic, a website that compiles media review information, and found out that Jim Caligiuri from the Austin Chronicle put the band Ha Ha Tonka on his top 10 albums of 2007 list. How many people would use a name like Ha Ha Tonka?

Turns out Ha Ha Tonka (the band) and I have more in common than I thought. I found out that they’re a band from Springfield, Missouri, the same place from whence I was just sprung after graduating from Missouri State. Famous Springfieldians include Brad Pitt and Bob Barker. Ha Ha Tonka (the band) used to have a stupid name, Amsterband, but wisely chose something appropriately more twangy and ready to rock.

After I found out that this band had indeed called themselves Ha Ha Tonka after the state park, I headed over to their MySpace page to check them out. Turns out they’re a bit Kings of Leon, and really work that whole Drive-By Truckers souther rock odyssey thing. Their first album is called “Buckle on the Bible Belt”–a title that very accurately describes Springfield, MO–and is filled with gospel harmonies and crunchy southern rock guitar.

Now here’s the real kicker: how is it I’ve never heard of Ha Ha Tonka (the band) before? Why did I have to hear about them now that I’ve left Springfield?

Oh, well. Visit Ha Ha Tonka (the band) on their website.

Eliot Spitzer has given us another good reason why prostitution should probably be legal and regulated in the United States.

The disgraced governor appeared with his wife Silda on Monday, apologizing for–but not formally admitting to–being part of a high-class prostitution ring. Spitzer then went on to resign as Governor on Wednesday. Apparently, Governor Spitzer called up The Emperor’s Club, a high class escort service, to have a lady sent to a suite in the Mayflower hotel in Washington, D.C. He then, you know, did his business with her then left, leaving her in the suite for the night. Apparently this wasn’t the first time, either.

So what’s so wrong with what Spitzer did? First, he tarnished his squeaky clean image as the family-man Democrat everyone could love. I get that this probably made people feel a fair amount of betrayal. After all, Spitzer was on the short list of possible presidential or vice presidential candidates in the future.

Other than that, what’s so upsetting? His relationship with Slida is, despite what we might think, between him and Silda. Our reaction to her being betrayed seems like it’s up for public scrutiny, but it’s not.

Perhaps she knew about this and was okay with it. Perhaps she didn’t know, but wasn’t surprised or particularly bothered when she found out. Perhaps she was devastated. How are we to say?

Spitzer harmed no one but his family with his actions, so it’s not our place to become upset. Throughout the rest of the industrialized world, prostitution is legal and regulated. When you legalize and regulate prostitution, you take out the pimps, take out the drug use, and mandate health standards.

People are going to hire prostitutes anyway. Why not regulate how they do so?
I’ll go ahead and trumpet the same idea that people used when talking about the Clinton (Bill) tryst in the White House: personal lives are personal lives and aren’t any of our business. Spitzer had developed a great reputation as Attorney General of New York. He sued record companies over payola and was the advocate of the little guy. Personally, I’d give him another chance. Then again, I’m not a New York resident and it’s not up to me.

So what do you think? Is what Spitzer did all that bad?

So you have no idea what an lolcat is? Well, fortunately for all of us, there’s a Wikipedia article about it. Also, Time magazine did a short write-up of the lolcat movement.

So what’s up with lolcats? Why should anyone care about them? Lolcats (also seen as lol cats) is a term used to describe pictures of cats with funny and grammatically-poor captions written across the picture. The lolcats movement has spawned loldogs, and lolrus (for some reason, walrus pictures) as well as any other animal or cute photo you can think of that would be improved by silly captions. Here’s an example, a reference to the famous monologue by Daniel Plainview in There Will Be Blood:

So why should anyone care? I thought the same thing until I began looking into the movement. Lolcats and lolspeak is truly a user-generated language created by people who, to the best of my knowledge, have never met each other. Currently my love of strange social movements and language has created a great interest in lolcats.

I’m currently compiling research on lolcats for a potential article or book. If you have any personal connection to lolspeak or lolcats and want to share your experiences, I’d appreciate your input. Please feel free to email me here.

Tina Fey is so awsome.

In Tina’s recent re-appearance on Saturday Night Live, Tina returned to her old desk as Weekend Update anchor to deliver some much-needed women’s news. During her segment, Tina made an impassioned plea for Hillary Clinton’s presidential bid, saying that yes, Hillary Clinton is a bitch, but bitches get things done. According to Fey, “Bitch is the new black.”

Watch the video and see for yourself here.

Also, download my new wallpaper and display your Bitch Pride:

Sorry folks. I was involved in a car crash recently (not my fault, I might add) and haven’t been updating. More updates coming soon, I promise.

In the meantime, here’s a picture for you all to enjoy. It’s a picture of my cat Attila before she was given away by my mother. Enjoy!