Thursday, March 30, 2006

Teed Off With BellSouth BS

Golf is a gentlemanly, quiet sport enjoyed by thousands of fine Georgia Republican men, right? Men who love their wives, children, SUVs and the Bill of Rights, yeah?

Wouldn't it be a fine, noble thing to turn on coverage this weekend of the BellSouth Classic here in town at Sugarloaf Country Club and see a sea of polite tee shirts on the greens, in the stands, directly behind the cameras that read: The Internet Belongs To Me? They could still wear those beloved plaid pants at the same time.

A gal's gotta dream big. Next year perhaps. In the meantime, I'll be switching over to something without a freakin' BellSouth line snaking into my home. So that means no Earthlink, either. Sorry guys. Comcast perhaps? Recommendations?

UPDATE: Real options are starting to come in. Gawd, I heart the Internet. And all before lunch too! Bye Bye BellSouth.

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Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Saggy Celebs

Although I adore celeb butt-smacker mags such as the National Enquirer, Vanity Fair and the ATL's own Stomp and Stammer, I typically don't waste precious time blogging about celeb culture. I think the masses are fully supported on that front without my 2-cents.

However, I do enjoy the occasional click to Go Fug Yourself, particularly for their in-house obsession with Kirsten Dunst's boobs. No doubt you blogorati are already way ahead of me on this, but a quick glance at those seriously droopy ones can make any middle-aged mom quite proud of the way her own are holding up so well.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Movin' On Up

How do I love my 'hood? Let me show you four of the reasons, within a mile radius of my house, I pass every day...

1.) Puppet-esque folk by the side of the road:

2.) A rather large sink hole:

3.) Just another basic, red roadside rocket:

4.) A pretty cool piece of available real estate I'd love to purchase just because I could:

Sigh... look now because none of these loopy "artifacts" will be around about a year from now I bet. Sometimes progress for progress' sake and gentrification for gentrification's sake is just so goddamn boring.

Call To Redneck Jihad

I never thought I'd be the one to send you to a fake blog, but this blog thread about taking kids to the liquor store will have you ROLFing in a way you haven't since you first discovered the Internet, back when there were under 100K people on AOL. (I was one of 'em!)

Just kicking myself that I actually had to commit real work today and didn't get to contribute before the thing "closed." Again, it's a fake, corporate-sponsored blog, but hilarious today nonetheless. Give funny where funny is due.

Off to the stoning!

It Takes A Village...

.... of anti-immigration reform supporters to smear a man's reputation. Yesterday's AJC article featuring the passionate and controversial (funny how those two are never seen without each other) D.A. King made sure to hint loudly that he was a white supremist.

D.A. King is not a white supremist. I know NPR-regular-pledger types (yeah, all those bed-wetting liberals that talk-show hosts get rich from by inciting the feeble-minded masses to foam at the mouth about) who have heard and support his message challenging action and reform on illegal (key word there, folks) immigration. As I said in Peach Pundit and I'll say it again here:

"Inflaming illegals and their (primarily student) supporters to protest, as many are doing all across the country now, is one thing.

So is resorting to smearing D.A. King’s mission by suggesting he’s a white supremist, as some people interviewed for the AJC article clearly set out to do. King is by no means a white supremist. I know socialist-minded NPR-listeners who have heard his message and support him.

But what about our family, friends and obnoxious neighbors who are making money hand over fist by employing illegals for their construction sites, work crews, etc.? (Hell, illegals built/build this city, not rock and roll, but I diverge…)

Those kind of cul-de-sac Republicans would be the first to NOT do anything at all about immigration reform. They just look the other way and send them back to Buford Highway where the illegals are suddenly able to magically aquire all the right paperwork to get back on the job - fast too.

Wink, nod, phoney papers, cash flows in. Everybody’s happy, right?"

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Sunday, March 26, 2006

Ordered To Party City

Vampire LeTot, meet Harry Potterette. When not downloading for Disney or making pancakes for dinner, I am instructed to function chiefly as a riding intructor at the Hogwarts Riding Ring of Magical Misbehavior where I am told to instruct only Harry Potterette to use her wand to toss an evil yet undoubtedly invisible Draco Malfoy from the ring of perfect little riders.

And yes, there will come a time when Potterette discovers that Draco has his own fan site. Until then, we live a quiet, magical life.

World 'O Grayson

Sometimes I just hate being normal. Or is it that I secretly hate being Southern American? Or could it be that I was raised in such an astonishingly sexist environment whereby women were so "invisible," as the wise Anna Quindlen calls such dark times, that I'm still too scared to consider myself in any artistic context for fear of being even more marginalized than I was as a powerless child?

The psychology of it all is too much for me; thus my silly housekeeping obsession. You know what "they" always told me about wicked, idle hands... they being the women who raised me yet never once had to lift a finger to support themselves. House Ho's all! But enough bitterness for one blog...

Why can't I be more like... Grayson Perry? (See above photo.)

Instead of the usual vaccuming, scrubbing and laundering I am called and compelled to do on Sunday mornings until I'm blue in the face (when I'm not in church of course), I defiantly sat down and googled other people named "Grayson," whereby I came immediately across a British cross-dressing contemporary ceramic artist.

For his creative efforts this Grayson wins grand awards that pay tens of thousands of dollars. For mine, I am derided, further ignored by immediate family members (if that was at all possible) and reduced to blogging for a living. But oh how I do go on. UPDATE: Kevin at NG has an interesting reflection on fame and fortune. Summary: why bother?

I am fascinated by this Grayson Perry of Essex, England. Not only does he live life in a series of delightfully complex costumes, he even looks to be in normal life (see above photo) as I imagine (if I allowed myself such creative license) I might look if I was a man. Also, my paternal grandmother's maiden name was "Perry." If ever there was a more "maidenly" married woman it would have been her, but oh how she loved me and oh how I diverge...

I doubt Grayson Perry's namesake is, as is mine, a hand-me-down from a South Carolina ancestor with a pronounced literary inclination, albeit one terribly reflective of the times in which he lived, worked and flourished.

To find our shared ancestory, we'd no doubt have to work our way back to... The Druids! I must admit to a bit of wonder, pride and sheer delight in being able to google one's ancestor and discover that he served in Congress.

To celebrate, I might go really wild and not vaccum at all today. I might instead take a moment to think on family members currently serving in Iraq and Afganistan, and ditch the anti-American moments of self-loathing that can haunt us all -- while corsetted as a Moulin-Rouge barmaid of course.

tags: , , , . This blog entry put together by Neko Case's Fox Confessor Brings The Flood.

Friday, March 24, 2006

Peach Delight

Wow! In lieu of a blog/tuna roll, there are three metro ATL, fem-stemmed blogs I need to tell you about:

First is poet Tania Rochelle's blog, The Stone's Colossal Dream. Lordy hon, if anyone needed to be blogging, it's this woman. Tania once graced the pages of my old literary-minded site, WaySouth, with her poems, which to this day still blow me away and tend to float and linger through my head at the strangest times. If she has a live reading, you'll be sure to be alerted here on my blog.

Second is Sherry Heyl and her fabulously in-the-know, techno-savvy and way-into-the-future blog, What A Concept! Who needs anything remotely like "traditional" press or MSM if you've got the poop from this PR princess.

Third is the delightfully blunt feminazi, Amber Rhea, and her articulate, witty and seriously sharp blog, Being Amber Rhea.

Dang these women are good. Smack your lips and go on back for more.

One more thing 'fore I let ya go, anyone out there still pooh-poohing the power of the blogosphere, just look where Yours Truly ended-up today. Pretty cool, huh? Dude'd have my vote -- if I lived in Savannah.


Ain't Too Proud To Blog

Another Republican "gets it." This time, it's Savannah Congressperson Jack Kingston who is heralding the good New Media news. You may recall Kingston as the first Congressperson to be interviewed on the then-nascent Colbert Report. Kingston was chortling through that whole "interview" which led me to believe that he was pretty clued-in and diggin' the whole New Media vibe.

Fall in line, folks. Local Dems in particular. I hear Cutie Pie Edwards is way ahead of the curve - laying low on the Internet and building a powerful online presence to prep for becoming the anti-Hillary in '08.

I'm downloading as fast as I can!

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Thursday, March 23, 2006

Stock Up

Hispanics in Georgia are scheduled to do as they're told and all walk-off the job tomorrow, Friday. Now how exactly do you start that darn lawnmower?

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Desperate Democrats

Hear Ye Hear Ye. Democrats in the Georgia Senate are hoping to pass legislation to further "Bible literacy." This bill of theirs would allow the teaching of the Bible in public schools as elective courses for academic, literary and cultural pursuits, not for religious indoctrination. So they claim today.

Of course this is just gross pandering to the religious-minded voter (is there any other kind in Georgia right now?), but wouldn't it be nice to focus on plain 'ole "literacy" in the Georgia public school system? Lord knows how many business ventures we've lost because we can't offer the world an educated work force.

One Georgia Dem not pandering to the right, and who isn't afraid to highlight the hypocrisy of pols such as Ralph Reed, is Lt. Governor candidate Greg Hecht. I attended a fundraiser at yet another overwraught Buckhead mansion last night for Hecht. The hosts' bodacious home (not the Hechts) looked to be decorated by Biggus Dickus himself!

Gawd, you gotta love the nouveau riche. Nothing says "Look, I made it big time" better than that predictable High Bordello style they inevitably favor whereby one takes the tackiest item one can find, a fake-jewel encrusted chandelier for instance, and blows it up to monstrously ludicrous proportions.

It was a bit hard to focus on Hecht's message for all the gawdy trappings, but somehow, fortified with 2 glasses of ok wine, I managed. Steve Lundquist, the Olympic gold medalist in swimming, introduced Hecht at the event since he, Lundquist, lives somewhere near Hecht, on a golf course in Jonesboro I'd imagine. Lundquist is a powerful, charming figure and speaker, and should consider a career in Georgia politics himself.

I also overheard some loudmouth do-gooder-and-don't-you-forget-it type shouting to Eldrin Bell, Commissioner of Clayton County, that a very informal poll within the "disadvantaged" school he graces with his volunteer presence showed that 54% of the "disadvantaged" kids have Internet access at home. A most interesting factoid indeed.

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Thursday, March 16, 2006

A Digital Dialog and Dialect 24

Southern culture was all over the airwaves - and no, it wasn't coming out of Austin. My current state of SXSW attendance-envy: about off the charts.

Sigh... like He Who Must Not Be Named would even think to bring me a tee shirt; the absurdist things I long for and know I'll never have. And the reality is that I'm so goddamned easy to please. One stupid little tee shirt would rock my world for days. Months even. (Note to AMB core committee from Wednesday night: I think we've seen the emergence of the Cape Society. Here lies the need. And the handshake is... TBD!)

But back to the real South... Morning Edition had a wonderful piece about the translating of the New Testament into Gullah. You can listen to a bit here. How wistful. My mother can lapse into Gullah in a second flat, having grown up in the Lowcountry. I think when white folks use the same dialect they call it Geechee, though.

Then later in the day Thursday, there was a dedication of a reading garden at Wren's Nest, the Atlanta home of the 19th century AJC and Uncle Remus stories (Brer Rabbit) editor, Joel Chandler Harris. H.L. Mencken sure didn't think much of his efforts though.

The reading garden is a gift from the Troy-Bilt tiller company. Mom notes that she once drove all the way to Atlanta in the '70s to have our Troy-Bilt serviced. Those things used to be Hummers of the organic gardening hippie crowd. No self-sufficent, self-sustaining pine scrub complex, compound, commune or cult could've functioned without 'em.

If you like storytelling, and especially Southern ghost stories, there's no better place to get your fix than with fellow Atlantan, Craig Dominey's Moonlit Road. Take a turn down that one if you dare.

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Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Take This Grit And Shove It

Oh Lordy, here we go again. Another Charleston, S.C. foody piece by the word-stuffed R.W. Apple. He's the Pat Conroy of the culinary world, all puffed up on ludicrous, flowery verbage of every flavor. Apple writes about the South only to name-drop at a furious pace and announce, again, that he just happens to be married to a bona fide Charleston blue blood from the such-and-such line of so-in-so's. As if he picked a spouse from a horse auction catalog.

I'd no sooner announce I was married to a Charlestonian than I'd, uh, attend a Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (Say Gag) show. It's nothing to go around bragging about.

In my considerable experience, Charlestonians are some of the most dangerous, secretive, alcoholic, paranoid, provincial, repressed, repressive, conservative wackos on the planet. After all, who started one of the bloodiest, costliest wars this world has ever seen because a few Yankees pissed the blow-hards off? Wasn't exactly a bunch of dudes from New Orleans. No, it was a bunch of the stubbornest men the world has ever known -- ones straight outta South Carolina. I'd know a little something about them too, as would John McCain.

But don't take my word. I just grew up there. So did Stephen Colbert; here's what he has to say on the subject. Don't say I didn't warn you.

One true confession, the Hominy Grill Apple writes about in today's NYT is really quite fabulous. The food is mouth-watering and the notable locals-watching superb. Also, an authentic Charleston relative sent, at my request, the Hominy Grill's pickled shrimp recipe. Wouldn't dream of going to a pot-luck, steeplechase, tent revival, Cocks game, fox hunt or visitor day at the State Pen without a big 'ole tub of it. Smack Your Lips Say Yum. Now don't you wish you had that recipe? If you're nice to me and link to my blog a lot, well maybe just maybe I'll post it here.

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Let's Go Snipey

Oh this is fun. Our own Leonard Witt, writer of the excellent blog, Public Journalism Network, or PJNET, and a founding member of Atlanta Media Bloggers, is having a delightful little rowe with some pompous ass over at the CJR Daily. My prediction... any arguing with someone named "Felix Gillette" won't end well.

FYI all, Atlanta Media Bloggers will be meeting tomorrow night, Wednesday the 15th, at 7pm at Loop Pizza in Buckhead. As we have yet to have a coherent website for our interesting yet unorganized little organization, I can't really link you to anything with an "official" announcement, but I sure hope to see 'ya there. Then I fly out to play SXSW.

Yeah right... had you going there for a sec, eh? I just wanted to type-out what it would feel like to say something so utterly pretentious. Hipster dreamin' again I go. Silly girl. And yes, I'd about run over my grandma to be there. Billy Bragg's awaitin' our mutually held shared destiny I just know.


Monday, March 13, 2006

Red Emma

Maureen Stapleton, who played Emma Goldman in Reds and won an Oscar for her efforts, has died. This is sad. She was an interesting, enigmatic woman who was perfectly cast to play an interesting, enigmatic woman. And Reds, regardless of one's political inclinations, is simply one of the best movies ever made - in any genre.

Not only did it gorgeously showcase the acting wizardry of Jack Nicholson, Diane Keeton and Warren Beatty in their absolute, charismatic primes, it told a riveting epic tale, albeit a highly dramatized version, of a critical point in American political history. It's a must-see for any history or politico enthusiast, although it's not out on DVD.

HBO was running it recently, however. It's a big-screener kinda show, so make sure you have access to one of those monster TVs if you land a TiVo'd viewing. Also, the March '06 issue of Vanity Fair had a piece about the making of Reds, complete with some fantastic, never-before-seen photos of Beatty and Nicholson on the Reds set.

Reds was such a powerful artistic force that it inspired at least one impressionable, rather spacey young lady to kinda dreamily study American labor history as a college student. Now I wonder who that might have been...

Here's my analytical ode to what could possibly be my favorite movie, if GWTW didn't exist, of course.

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Friday, March 10, 2006

Before They Were Known Ice Freaks

So word on the street is that the AJC could be nominated for three Pulitzers this year. You rock Big Cin D T! And one of the categories is Breaking News - for the courthouse shooting last year, a year ago to the day I believe.

And guess who wrote the, kinda sorta, breaking news guest editorial about Ms. Smith on 3/15/05? Yep, that would be Yours Truly, Spacey G. I wonder if this will make me a Pulitzer nominee by association? Beats me. E-mail the AJC and ask. Here's a re-print for ya, without their permission, as technically it is now intellectual property of the AJC. Think I'm gonna go stir-up a Dirty Girl martini and toast myself nonetheless! Brini will be so proud.

March 15, 2005

Hostage's story didn't have price tag

By GRAYSON _________________

Ashley Smith gives new meaning to the phrase "free press." Smith, the woman who miraculously managed to keep her considerable wits about her while being held hostage by fugitive Brian Nichols in her Gwinnett County apartment for hours on Saturday, gave away her astonishing story of courage and bravery for free.

In this day and age of extreme intellectual property concerns, she didn't have to do that. And who would have faulted her, a widow with a small child, for holding out for a paid "exclusive," even if it were with a disreputable tabloid or TV news channel? Instead, Smith told her compelling account of the ordeal to a frenzied, sleep-deprived press pack-at-large on Sunday night in her attorney's office.

Anyone remotely interested could have been there to record this narrative, from a lone blogger to Peter Jennings himself. Credentials are rarely checked at such hurried proceedings. All anyone really need do to be considered "media" nowadays is simply to show up where the action is.

Once there, every adrenaline-crazed member of every media outlet present at the news conference, be it local, national, print, Internet or television, was riveted into complete silence for a record-breaking 45 minutes. They actually listened to her explanation. For that astonishing feat alone, she should be generously compensated.

Her talk did not come cheap. Indeed, words seemed to have saved her life. It seems Smith was able to calm Nichols with the only weapon available to her throughout the ordeal - the words of her heart and mind. And whether they came from God or from mere strong wits, her words resonated powerfully for many this past weekend, and paved a significant path for law enforcement to do its assignment as well.

Smith could have recorded an account of her nightmare, with a lone camera crew perhaps. Then she could have taken possession of the tape, declared it her valuable property and decided for herself what to do with it; the amazing story was hers alone to tell. It did not necessarily belong to us, the demanding public.

That is what we, as free Americans, are constitutionally allowed to do: own property, intellectual or otherwise. A brave, honest woman who stared down terror and lived to tell the tale decided to give the people what they wanted to hear - and chose not to charge or manipulate or corrupt the information process we commonly refer to as "the media."

A free press is a two-way street; when we go back and forth at will, then the media actually work for us - the public. It's up to us to note Smith's astonishing example, and use media wisely if they come our way. Of course, Smith probably will receive reward money for turning Nichols over to authorities. And possibly, she will make future deals, such as the sale of film rights, which may offer further compensation.

Let's hope such future agreements are lucrative ones. She deserves every penny.

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Shut Up And Sing

Faith Hill, and her equally inarticulate husband, Another Fakey Country Singer I could care less about, is babbling on about things that, like, uh, totally, kinda, get 'em all upset and stuff! Like crying and everything. She's so emotional over the response to Hurricane Katrina, she's even blurted the curiously strong word "bullshit," presumably about the Bush Administration.

Hard to tell, as Ms. Hill's natural ability to mangle a message is rivaled only by W himself. And has it not been, like, six months since every level of government managed to, like, totally fail the people of New Orleans? Where's that woman been? On tour or something?

So where's all that lucrative patriotism now? United Arab Emirates I guess. Here's a delighfully dopey selection from Ms. Hill's (hopefully fleeting) foray into the political arena:

"I fear for our country if we can't handle our people [during] a natural disaster. And I can't stand to see it. It doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure out point A to point B. . . . And they can't even skip from point A to point B. It's just screwed up."


Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Git Miz Ellen's Poteers Weez Goin' To Da ATL

Atlanta - the city too busy to notice that no one likes us anymore. In a matter of hours we lost a museum, a Fortune 500 company, a few thousand more jobs and a monster truck-load of pride.

Meanwhile, our former Golden Boy of a mayor is doing the I’m Not Really A Perp walk for local media every day. At least no one cares enough about Atlanta to send much in the way of national media to cover this sorry state of affairs. Otherwise, we would be The City Too Pitiful To Hate.

Enough whining. Shirley has a boatload of damage control to do now, and she needs every citizen to help The Beloved Cause. So let’s get started. For once, can we all just forget the “global arena” for a few seconds and concentrate on our own backyard? Every PR person and spin-meister in town needs to roll-up their sleeves and get to work in there.

Forget Hollywood for a moment. Pretend California doesn’t exist. Go native. Go local. Eat at the Varsity. Go to spring training at Georgia Tech. Annoy people at parties by droning on about the time your brother fell out of the Pink Pig when it used to be at the downtown Rich’s. Remind them of the Pink Pig’s resurrection at Lenox every Christmas.

Don’t stop there. Tell friends and family about the stunning fireworks display at Lenox every Fourth of July. Do not leave town for vacation this July 4. Stay here this summer and go see that one urban wonder alone.

Grab a laptop and head to the world’s hottest Wi-Fi spot, Hartsfield-Jackson. Don’t worry if you can’t even power the thing up. Just pretend! Trust me, Hartsfield-Jackson is the best place in town to find a date. Think about it, not much else to do while passing through except strike up a conversation with that hottie on the laptop next to you on Concourse T (the coolest concourse by far). Sure beats

Visit the Zoo. Take a Republican to Manuel’s Tavern on some of our new sidewalks. Drive around Nisky Lake. Take a tour of Auburn Avenue and see what’s happening there. Then keep going and be stunned by the trendy urban renewal efforts going on in any direction you head.

People in in-town neighborhoods, get with the program. Bore colleagues to tears by going on forever about all the majestic trees on your street. Pretend you’re a wild and crazy youth again by eating at the real Majestic on Ponce.

Tell a Yankee about the local music scene and our venues where the world's trendiest acts pass through: The Variety, Eardrum, the EARL, the Tabernacle. The Symphony’s got it going on, or what about that hilarious children’s show every Saturday at Dad’s Garage Theater in Inman Park? Talk-up amazing local radio stations like AM1160, WRFG or WRAS.

Fly in Sir Elton and make him drive around the perimeter until things improve. Send Jane Fonda back to Hollywood until we perk-up. Re-enact something! Anything.

Heck, everybody, make a wacky film about traffic conditions and send it all over the Internet. Better yet, make a cool artsy film about, say, Oakland Cemetery and send that all over the Internet.

In addition, be sure to drive down Peachtree Battle when the azaleas are in bloom. Then blog to the world that if that’s not the prettiest boulevard in springtime on the face of the planet then you’re Ashley Wilkes. The world will be hard-pressed to argue back about that.

And please, visit the Aquarium and then walk through Centennial Park at dusk. If you get mugged, blame me. I live just a mile or so away, and likely always will.

But hurry, the azaleas won’t last long. I hear Peggy Mitchell’s ghost is threatening to move to Macon. And Lewis Grizzard’s is headed to Charlotte.


Friday, March 03, 2006

If I Have To Go To One More Monster Truck Rally

In Arts news worth mentioning on a Friday before the E. Rivers talent show...

Cate Blanchette is playing Hedda Gabler on the stage. I'd about run over my mother to see this. Alas, it's only until March 26 and only in Brooklyn, so only people who are hipper than you will ever see it.

Half Man Half Biscuit, the greatest band you've never heard of, until now, deigns to do an interview. I'll leave you with a lyrical sample. Have a great weekend all!

I could have put my head in a bucketful of porridge
And moaned about the hospital parking scheme.
I would've saved 14 pounds that I just splashed out on your second album,
For that's what it's akin to
And furthermore
You've got a shit arm
And that's a bad tattoo.

"Shit Arm, Bad Tattoo" (Achtung Bono)

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Eyes Wide Shut

In their latest installment of "Helpful Hints On How To Manage Your Own Private Life! Or Face Jail Time," the Georgia Senate has passed legislation requiring women to "look at" a fetus by ultrasound before having an abortion.

Calm down, folks! This may not necessarily be a bad thing. If the fetus looks like, say, Nancy Schaefer or Ralph Reed you can immediately proceed to abort. On the other hand, if it looks like, oh, George Clooney, Ralph Fiennes or the ultra-yummy Joaquin, then by all means keep it!


Thursday, March 02, 2006

Love Your Power Trip, Grrl Fren!

Who's the scariest woman in the state? (And no, it's not Nancy Schaefer, although she's way up there at the top of the list. Just take a look at her handiwork, the fascist Fundy scripture she crafted in SB 429. But I diverge...)

I think the winner in the Scariest Georgia Gal 2006 pageant is Sally Yates.

I'm beginning to think the whole Campbell trial really calls into question Yates' motivations, and when Ummm Ummm Campbell (and others) cry-to-the-sky that she is bringing down the whole force and wrath of the U.S. government on one 'lil bitty 'ole innocent head for personal revenge, complete with all the truly frightening law enforcement tentacles of our beloved government, he's got an old and valid point.

Sally's husband, Comer, was defeated by the true Mouth of The South, Cynthia McKinney, back in the mid-90s. McKinney's most vocal and visible supporter at the time: then-Mayor C. (More about this cultural phenomena in my blog entry after attending Yates' esteemed father-in-law's funeral here.)

Yates obviously clawed her way to the teetering top of the heap, and is, for her efforts, one of the most powerful women in the country, not just the ATL. But she married into her good name. I wonder what people really think of her.

See why you gotta love this trial, folks! This is old, Old South stuff going on here: the white elite musterin' (still considerable) forces against the (once) new black power structure. Race does play a part, and anyone who says race is irrelevant to ground-shakingly powerful circumstances of the world today is an utter fool.