StrangeAppar8us’ favorite self-portrait, which he titled “Lord Of The Vanes”
Regulars and friends of Rumproast who have been following along know that our dear friend, co-blogger, and mainstay, StrangeAppar8us, has been grappling with a serious illness. We have kept the exact details of his illness from our readers out of respect for his privacy (and that of his family), but now we can let you know that StrangeAppar8us suffered a severe traumatic brain injury on November 3rd. It is true that he is out of danger. He has already undergone one operation that went very well. He is able to speak, hold very short conversations, and his motor skills seem to be unaffected. His wit, intelligence, and the core sweetness of his character are also intact. It’s true that he is showing some improvement every day, but he is still hospitalized and has a permanent disability as a result of this injury that will require years of rehabilitation. We are heartbroken to report to you that his vision has been affected, and he is blind.
Rumproast, our jolly little blog, has been incredibly lucky to have been graced by Strange’s wild, weird, magnificent writing and wicked sense of humor. He has been a huge part of this blog since he first arrived as a commenter here back in August of 2008. We miss him terribly.
We know that we’ll never raise enough money to offset Strange’s massive hospital bills or pay for the extensive rehabilitation that will be required, but we’d like to do whatever we can financially to help our good pal out. Hopefully, with the help of the blogging community, we can help get enough money together to buy Strange specialized computer equipment so that he can start writing again (the guy has a helluva autobiography in him!), a companion dog, or anything else to make his transition as easy as possible.
Last week, Mittens’ campaign set the tone for its coming campaign with a somewhat misleading ad, as Washington Examiner‘s Campaign 2012 blog notes:
The ad quotes Obama saying, “If we keep talking about the economy, we’re going to lose.” Obama did say that during an October 2008 campaign appearance in New Hampshire, but he was quoting an anonymous McCain aide, quoted in the press: “Senator McCain’s campaign actually said, and I quote, ‘if we keep talking about the economy, we’re going to lose,’” Obama said.
Romney isn’t even the GOP candidate (yet), so the Examiner interprets this as Mittens’ team wanting to make it plain that he’s willing to play hardball, and the truth be damned—which in this Still Rovian era is what’s really important in a Republican candidate, after all—and quotes some gloating in the Romney camp:
Romney aides know some Republicans fear that if Romney is the GOP presidential nominee, he might run a cautious, measured campaign against Obama like John McCain’s losing effort of 2008. They know Republicans want to see a fearless, all-out campaign against the president. In that sense, the first ad was an effort to show Republicans that Romney will be as tough as he needs to be.
But one Romney adviser calls it “incredibly telling” that Democratic criticism focused almost entirely on the use of the soundbite, and not on the substance of the ad itself, which was high unemployment. “This is how these guys operate,” the aide says of Team Obama. “This is how they shamelessly reduced Bill Clinton to sputtering that he wasn’t a racist. This is how they attacked Hillary for not having a core, for saying anything to get elected—the same Hillary who hosted Senator Obama’s largest fundraiser.”
“We get that and get how to get under their skin,” the aide continued. That fact that not just Obama campaign aides in Chicago but White House spokesman Carney joined in the pushback was, to Team Romney, a sign the Obama team was “rattled.”
“We get it,” said the aide. “We will tie them in knots.”
For one reason or another, we’ve turned our attention away from the loons at Conservatives4Palin since Snooki decided that presidentin’ wasn’t for her and she wanted to spend more time ... well, doing whatever it is that fills her time nowadays as she waits for a no longer enamored Roger Ailes to finally sack her from her lucrative but painfully pointless Fox gig.
You turn your back for a few weeks, and look what happens: arch holdout Palinbot Ian Lazaran has collected enough money from the still-willing dupes idling their lives away in his comments sections to encourage Snooki to come out of hiding and Run, Sarah, Run!!!! via a TV ad due to air by November 30, since there is apparently no other way for her remaining followers to reach her in her Alaskan fastness, or that Arizona hangout of hers, or wherever else she may be. Well, I guess she probably watches TV. But she may have trouble getting reception from Sioux City, Iowa.
This is probably the weirdest Palin ad yet, and (perhaps wisely) doesn’t feature the famous screeched inanities that we’ve all grown to love and that send our critters cowering. In fact, you get no spoken words at all, just some gritty sound effects of a thousand Underpants Gnomes scratching their balls in unison, a burst of canned applause, followed by ultra-cheesy synth burbling transplanted from the 70s, and a taser sting to send you on your way.
What we do next after the television ad goes up is a more difficult question. If this ad is able to build some momentum for the Governor, the best way to keep that momentum going may be to commission a national GOP primary poll that includes the Governor as one of the options. We’ll see if it’s possible given our resources. We’re open to other ideas but the greatest challenge may be that time is running short for her to reconsider.
Like, I suspect, Ian Lazaran, I’ve no idea who they imagine that ad’s going to appeal to or what it’s going to achieve, but here’s some expert analysis from Smitty over at Stacy McCain’s dump (no link, you can Google the fecker), who’s wetting himself at the prospect of writing her name in, since she’s going to have trouble getting a slot on any caucus ballots at this late stage, let alone the Iowa one on January 3:
Theory: this is a little shot o’er the bow for the Dems, in case they hoist the Hillary flag.
That’s one way to get the first female president: both parties nominate a lady.
What kind of prissy, thin-skinned jackass would rat out a teenager for a critical tweet about a public official? Kansas Governor Sam Brownback’s spokeswoman Sherriene Jones-Sontag, that’s who:
A Kansas teenager got in some trouble with her school for comments she posted on her Twitter account — in which she claimed to have trashed Gov. Sam Brownback (R) to his face during a field trip.
Emma Sullivan, an 18-year old high school senior, was at an event in Topeka this past Monday for Kansas Youth in Government, which was addressed by Brownback. During the event, Sullivan posted to her Twitter account:
“Just made mean comments at gov brownback and told him he sucked, in person #heblowsalot”
Sullivan was engaging in a bit of hyperbole there, as she apparently did not actually confront the governor. No matter—it’s the thought that counts:
But as it turns out, Brownback’s office watches Twitter for comments about him. Brownback spokeswoman Sherriene Jones-Sontag told the event organizers about the comment, “so that they were aware what their students were saying in regards to the governor’s appearance,” the Wichita Eagle reports, also adding: “We monitor social media so we can see what Kansans are thinking and saying about the governor and his policies.”
Yeah, they monitor it so they can run shrieking to the principal’s office to get a high school girl in trouble, a reaction that would have earned tattletale Jones-Sontag a swirlie if she’d gone to my high school:
Brownback’s office flagged the tweet to the event organizers, who in turn passed the complaint on to Sullivan’s school. This got her called to the principal’s office:
The principal “laid into me about how this was unacceptable and an embarrassment,” Sullivan said. “He said I had created this huge controversy and everyone was up in arms about it … and now he had to do damage control.
“I’m mainly shocked that they would even see that tweet and be concerned about me,” she said. “I just honestly feel they’re making a lot bigger deal out of it than it actually was.”
You’re right, Ms. Sullivan: They are making a bigger deal out of it than it actually was:
Sullivan said the principal ordered her to write letters of apology to Brownback, the school’s Youth in Government sponsor, the district’s social studies coordinator and others.
Au contraire, Ms. Sullivan: It is they who owe you an apology—the governor for employing a hysterical tattletale and the principal for failing to grasp a basic tenet of free speech, which holds that an 18-year-old high schooler is at least as entitled to express her opinions using social media as a giant “corporate person” is entitled to engage in free speech via bushels of money to buy off crooked politicians.
It seems Brownback is aptly named, since he’s apparently unable to hold his fudge in the face of sarcasm from a high school student, and the principal is a useless toady. I hope Ms. Sullivan tells the school officials to cram it.
As I mentioned earlier, my family and I attempted to walk off our annual Thanksgiving Day feast yesterday with a hike through a primeval swamp located at the northwestern end of the Everglades. You won’t find this sort of scene on a postcard. But I think Florida’s marshlands and swamps have an austere beauty that could rival anything a Brontë sister could conjure:
This particular swamp features a cypress dome containing many ancient bald cypress specimens, so called because they shed most of their leaves in the winter:
It’s true that in my innocent early teens I took this song as a dire warning about the havoc leftovers can wreak on an unsuspecting digestive system. In my defense, if you listen to the lyrics, they do nothing to dispel that interpretation.
Has anyone else any similarly embarrassing revelations about their early impressions of songs that turned out to be somewhat naive?
I’m not overly fond of Thanksgiving Day itself since I’m usually either trying to cook a large meal for a large crowd in a small kitchen or else trapped in someone else’s overly formal Turkey Day tableau, where participants are expected to wear something other than sweatsuits and to pretend that lavishing praise on the hosts’ imaginary sky fairy is more important than watching the football game. Bah!
But the day after Thanksgiving is a favorite since our little nuclear family tradition is to make a picnic of our leftovers and do something outdoorsy. Our sandwich of choice consists of leftover turkey, stuffing, gravy and cranberry sauce on Cuban bread—very delicious!
This year, we’re off to hike through a swamp that contains 600-year-old cypress trees and migratory wood storks as well as many other critters, including alligators, deer and allegedly even the elusive Florida panther. Cuban tree frogs will probably rain down on my head. If I make it back, I’ll post some pictures.
Every year around this time we gather all of the kids in front of their newfangled monitor screen thingees to enjoy Rumproast founder Kevin’s captivating, one-millisecond-long performance (more “insider” details here) in Quentin Tarantino & Robert Rodriguez’s film Grindhouse. Enjoy (unless you don’t like gore—you’ve been warned) and happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
We can rebuild him!!! (Central image of Strange taken from his own business card)
As long as the degeneration of society is managed and orchestrated by elites such as myself, I tend to see it as a net positive. The atavistic bonds of family and country that constrain human progress must be dissolved like silicone glue in ethyl ether, so that a new and grander scheme of cultural architecture may be imposed, not by patriots and politicians, but by thinkers, artists, engineers and Social Scientists—i.e., those of us who are to human evolution what the early astronauts were to the brave, uncertain but exhilarating Conquest of Space.
I’in’t that sweet? From Strange’s Turkey Day thread last year, where he field-dressed one particular Frozen Turkey (or “America’s Backseat Driver” as he dubbed her) with wicked accuracy:
Thanks, Sarah! On this day of solemn yet joyful introspection, as we reconcile the ledger of our individual hardships against the ever-renewing bounty of our Freedom and the never-failing Spirit of Generosity that infuses our families and countrymen, your Queeg-like paranoia and consuming obsession with petty slights and score-settling are an inspiration to us all!
This is your Last Chance Saloon for a GOP debate for a while, as the next one won’t be until December 10, boohoo. It’s sponsored by CNN, the Heritage Foundation, and the American Enterprise Institute, tonight’s topic is national security and foreign policy, and it’s moderated by the aptly named Wolf Blitzer, so there’ll probably be enough wingnutty nuggets to last me, you, and the pundits till then.
I understand you folks Stateside have a sacred holiday coming up later this week. I’ve been trying to get my head round it through vigorous research around the Web, and it seems to focus on gathering your relatives together for the offering of a sacrificial exotic fowl of fearsome aspect and proportions to the Gods of Oil and Fire.
The Orthodox practise seems to be to bring the local community, along with key emergency responders, together to cap your day by sharing the spectacular Ritual of the Meleagris Gallopavo Explosion In Your Back Yard. Some conduct this stage indoors, but this is frowned upon in more traditional quarters—Why be so insular? And in any case, not everybody even has walls, given the prevalence of hurricanes and floods—Why rub it in on this most auspicious of days?—so in solidarity with those less fortunate, some drag their furniture right out there and let everyone partake of the spectacle. Heck, if they have the resources and forethought, they televise it.
GOP thought leader Rush Limbaugh was a racist cretin long before Barack Obama was elected president. He’s no more able to resist denigrating an African American in any powerful position than he’s able to pass up an hors d’oeuvre tray laden with chocolate-dipped, bacon-wrapped Oxycotin tablets.
Despite his riches, this has been Limbaugh’s tragic downfall: His Tourette’s-like inability to control the bigoted bile that frequently leaks out of his maw cost him his dream job as a football analyst on ESPN. It also dashed his hopes of owning a stake in an NFL team.
Those of us who have monitored the bigoted toad’s tribalistic rants for awhile never doubted for a second that Limbaugh would lose it when the American people actually had the temerity to put a black man in the Oval Office. We merely wondered if he would be able to stop himself from saying the “N” word on the radio and possibly endangering his multimillion-dollar contract.
He took a step in that direction yesterday when he accused Michelle Obama of “uppity-ism” while defending the honor of NASCAR fans in Florida who booed the First Lady, Second Lady Dr. Jill Biden and some soldiers’ children over the weekend:
You can hear the whole rant at HuffPo if you are feeling particularly masochistic. The clip that accompanies the article was compiled and illustrated by a Limbaugh fan, who apparently chose the images to illustrate it using the same criteria I used to select wedding photos for my scrapbook, i.e., the images that were most flattering to moi.
I illustrated the clip instead with a badly done stop-motion claymation piece of my own. I care about y’all too much to subject you to actual images of Limbaugh’s indignantly jiggling man-boobs as he delivers the rant in real-time OR Photoshopped fanfic designed to render the loathsome bigot less outwardly hideous. You’re welcome.
Because this bloated, corrupt old wind bag, on his third wife, a Stepford card carrying member of the Cream Cheese People*, with his $300k Tiffany’s bill and lobbying fortune who was drummed out of his Speaker position on ethics charges, has suddenly become the new “Not Willard”.
Now, full disclosure here, a part of me would looooooove to see Gingrich actually get the nomination. I mean Willard’s got some baggage to play around with but the Newtster? He’s the Samsonite king. And I guess the only part of me that wouldn’t like to see it is the part that still believes that 50% of our country has not gone seriously insane enough to believe this has-been loon could really be a viable candidate for president.
That said, keep up the good work Republicans! You’ll keep David Frum very busy.
And assuming Newt’s surge is brief, which is probably a good assumption, who will be the object of their next crush? Will Jon Huntsman finally catch on and start polling above the margin of error? Or will the Pauliacs finally convince people that a Mars based gold standard really is the way to go?