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!

tags: Georgia, John Edwards, Jack Kingston, New Media

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?

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.

tags: Life of Brian, Greg Hecht, Georgia Democrats, Buckhead, Bible literacy

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.

tags : SXSW, Brer Rabbit

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.

tags: R.W. Apple, Charleston, SC, Stephen Colbert

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.

tag: Billy Bragg

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.

tags: Maureen Stapleton, Reds, Emma Goldman

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
COURTHOUSE SHOOTINGS
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.


tags: Pulitzer Prize, AJC, Cynthia Tucker, Courthouse Shooting

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."

tag: Faith Hill

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 Match.com.

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.

tag: Atlanta

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)


tags: Cate Blanchette, Half Man Half Biscuit

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!

tag: abortion

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.

tag: Sally Yates

How Peachy Is Your Uterus?

Better make sure it's up to par, as male Fundy politicians could come knocking on your door to examine it personally if things keep up the way they are currently in the Georgia Legislature, in this mid-way point of this horrendous session we're all suffering through.

Things are at such absurd levels, given the height of male hysteria over women's health and reproductive issues under the Gold Dome, that even the AJC noticed! Says it, in a staff editorial today:

"This is not the year of the woman at the General Assembly; it's the year of the womb.

A batch of anti-abortion measures is racing through the General Assembly, all of which reduce a pregnant woman to a vessel. One bill accords an embryo the same legal standing as the pregnant woman herself. Another allows pharmacists to refuse to fill prescriptions for emergency contraceptives. Among the most intrusive is SB 429, which forces a pregnant woman to have a sonogram or ultrasound for no medical reason whatsoever."

Seems like a revival of some of that there good old-fashioned radical feminist strategy is gonna have to be hauled out of the closet and dusted-off before too much longer.

"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi; you're my only hope."
"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi; you're my only hope."
"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi; you're my only hope."

tag: Georgia Legislature

Find Andy's Mind

Apparently a bit difficult this year, as it's all over the place. Andrew Young's poised to whoop it up on the stand today for close personal pal, Ummm Ummmm (Good Where It Matters Most) Campbell. And then he's schillin' and trillin' for Wal-Mart. Huh?

As I mention over at Peach Pundit, not Peach Buzz, this could be a totally good thing. We'll now be able to get our Heroes Of The Civil Rights Movement action figures at really amazingly low prices! Like a set of 6 for 5-bucks. Comes with linkable arms and a free "We Shall Overcome" sound chip. Collect 'em all. Bridge sold separately. Not to be made in Atlanta though. Nor Georgia. Heck, not even the U.S. How about China?!

Awesome.

More like things are starting to have a faint whiff of misguidance, akin to that hideous Edward the (once) VIII and that most supreme of hags, Wallis Simpson, and their devotion to all-things-fascist during WWII.

tag: Andrew Young

Gorgeous Goths

As I recently referenced Marilyn Manson in a post to a Georgia political, heavily Republican blog, Peach Pundit, I just remembered that Manson's December wedding to the stunning burlesque performer, Dita Von Teese, is featured in the latest Vogue.

Got mine in the mail yesterday. Run, do not walk, to the newsstand to get your copy now. Dita's (numerous) wedding-related gowns and outfits are just wild with style and passions. Vivienne Westwood creations are front and center, of course. Gives me plenty of ideas for that all-important second wedding, should I ever set my sights on such a thing. (White will be banned from that event. Wore that once; got me nowhere fast.)

Note Ms. Teese's strong Scarlett O'Hara influence and resemblance. Now there's a fashionista icon a Southern girl can smack her lips about!

tags: Vogue, Marilyn Manson wedding, Vivienne Westwood

South Shall Never Rise Again Now

Not in any Big Media kinda way. I am so very sorry, folks. Believe me when I tell you, I really did try to purchase Turner South, chiefly to keep it out of the filthy hands of sports-addicted Yankees and meglomaniacal Australians. But, oh, the programming fun I'd have!

At my friend Suzan's suggestion, and being a little low on the millions last week, I offered John Schuerholz a case of bourbon and a truckload of soybeans for our beloved, quirky channel, as a stand-alone deal that is, minus the Braves.

As the Braves' GM and I patronize the same hair salon, I was laboring under the impression of having exclusive access to the inner sanctum of Big Media wheelin' and dealin' when Mr. Schuerholz told me (of my offer), "That'll get you in the door." Funny, I never was able to locate that particular door. Fat Cat liar.

But a girl can still have her southern culture Big Media dreams, now can't she? Heck, if I hadn't pissed-off every last one of my rich relatives by now, I'd be halfway there.

Back to bloggin' on the front porch fer me, lovies...

tags: Turner South , John Schuerholz

Do You Idolspize?

Idolspize: a perfect new word for what is an age-old cultural phenomenon - secretly loathing/admiring those whom you claim to admire/loath.

The Washinton Post online has a marvelous article about this particularly insidious emotion, featuring the author's personal source of idolspizery, Susan Orlean. (Good source I must admit!) From the Post:

"Let me explain. It recently became clear to me that modern life has spawned a brand new emotion, that psychological sidewalk-crack between envy and idolatry that we often succeed in jumping over, but once in a while fall right through. That's where we meet them, those of superior beauty, character, talent and intelligence and, if friends, who are never less than loyal, supportive, generous and kind. For this we loathe them."

I'll 'fess up with my own idolspized short-list: Julia Reed, Tift Merritt (above photo), Hollis Gillespie, Marina Rust, Cynthia Tucker, Brini, Reese Witherspoon, my old college roommate who's now the first female chief-of-staff at her hospital. (You should see her house.)

Also, Brini's podcast, on alt.NPR (cute, huh) is here. Subscribe and be at peace with the charming vision of The World As You And Brini Know It Should Be.

tags: Brini Maxwell, Tift Merritt, idolspize

Condom Broke? Return It To These Dudes

Georgia politicians are lurking around our beds, again. Three of 'em are shown here. Click on a pic for mailing addresses.

Back off Fundies, least someone dare have sex for recreational purposes only here in the Peach State. The nerve. Is there anything more laughable than another uptight, white male Republican so terrified of women (and men presumably) gettin' off that they bluster about all puffed-up with piety, writing up absurdist, childish, time-wasting attempts to legislate our morality for us?

How can you slam the door in the face of these intrusive, Republican, male privacy-mongers, with their highly deceptive attempts to confuse the public and hinder access to birth control? By writing to your Georgia State Senator, find yours here, and asking them to stop Senate Bill 123, which is in committee chats as we speak.

But first, some extremely critical background... do you know the difference between "emergency contraception" and the "abortion pill?" Don't lie. You likely couldn't tell me the difference; I was totally confused myself.

Here's the difference between the two, according to About.com:

"The Emergency Contraception Pill, or morning after pill, is a pill that is available as a combination of estrogen-progestin, or progestin only (Plan B is one brand name of this). These are the exact same medications that are contained in normal, daily, birth control pills. They work to inhibit ovulation, fertilization, and implantation of the egg in the uterus. Emergency contraception does not work if a fertilized egg has already implanted (i.e. the woman is pregnant). The pill can be used within 72 hours of sex to prevent a pregnancy.

RU-486, or abortion pill, is a pill taken in combination with prostaglandin. Ru-486 is a high dose of mifepristone, which works to block the creation of progesterone, a hormone that is necessary to create and sustain pregnancy. This triggers the uterus to shed its lining and opens the cervix."

Full definition here.

But SB123 reads like this, totally confusing two very different prescriptions:

First Reader Summary:

A BILL to be entitled an Act to amend Code Section 16-12-142 of the Official Code of Georgia Annotated, relating to requiring medical facilities or physicians to perform abortions and requiring others to assist, so as to provide that a pharmacist who states in writing an objection to any abortion shall not be required to fill a prescription for an emergency contraceptive drug which purpose is to induce and effect an abortion; to provide that such refusal shall not be the basis for any claim for damages; to provide for the duration of the effectiveness of the written objection; to provide for related matters; to repeal conflicting laws; and for other purposes.

Is this written to intentionally confuse the public and further a thinly-veiled pro-life, religious agenda? Or is it written just because no senator shown here bothered to do his homework? Or both?

The way this bill is worded, and let's hope this language is changed soon or better yet, just thrown out altogether, a Fundie pharmacist could refuse to fill a prescription that could ultimately PREVENT an unwanted pregnancy by use of emergency contraception, or EC. Emergency contraception won't even work if someone is already pregnant! So it can't induce an abortion at all; that's a job for RU-486, not EC. So opposing abortion on moral grounds is one thing; prescribing EC is another. We're talkin' apples and oranges, folks.

Taking such a righteous, moral superiority-based action thus furthers the possibility of producing yet another abortion if an unwanted pregnancy ultimately takes place and is ultimately aborted. That makes NO sense whatsoever. Seems like anyone honestly opposed to abortion, and not just pushing their religious doctrine on us, would want to work towards preventing ALL unwanted pregnancies.

Don't we all have a common goal of reducing the total number of abortions performed? Put your money where your mouth is, Fundies, and PREVENT the need for abortion in the first place by making more options for birth control readily available to the public.

Or what the hell, just by-pass the political system altogether. It's a free market world now isn't it? Do your own here, but the Spacey Gracey Review does NOT endorse this method. Not while control of one's own reproductive destiny is legal - and safe - at least.

Tags: emergency contraception, Georgia State Senate, abortion

What's In Your Purse, Ladies?

Don't you Atlanta gals, particularly Marion and Martina, wish you had this handy little site back in the day? Could've saved oodles of time on the stand fer sure.

All Men Are Liars

But not so much so as All Men Are Greedy. Bottom line: a satisfied woman does not cheat, and eventually is made a fool of; a satisfied man gets overly-inflated, and eventually makes a fool out of himself.

In more hot news from the Campbell trial, girlfriends are just comin' outta the woodwork down at the Big Dick, the Richard B. Russell Federal Building. (Give a shout-out to former Channel 2 man-about-town, Patrick Crosby. He works there; he should receive a prize for looking good while looking busy.) Get one off the stand, and, ooops, up pops another.

This week, the feds introduce Martina Jimenez... the adorable Ms. Jimenez loves charitable gifting, estate planning and, alledgedly, married men. Just the discreet kinda gal to, uh, manage your hard (earned of course) assets, n'est pas? Here's her website.

The way things are going, Bill Campbell may singlehandedly reverse six years of anti-American sentiment, derision and contempt on the part of the French. You know how they love a good extramarital romp over there. See Monsieurs and Mesdames, we're not all so deadly dull and provincial after all!

Quiz: Name the artist who wrote/sings today's headline and win a prize. (No, it isn't Edith Piaf.) Prize TBD by staff of the Spacey Gracey Review. Prize value not to exceed cost of dinner and a hotel room for just another night out on town for former Atlanta mayors.

tags: Bill Campbell trial, Martina Jimenez

Left Behind Brainless

I am so OVER families of 9/11 victims wailing and gnashing their teeth, again. Bizarre, PR-related hysterics seem to happen every time they are not magically granted special privileges and rights they feel entitled to by an act of terrorism.

Now victims' family members are beating their chests and tearing their hair out because a branch of NYC government failed to "secure" all imagery associated with 9/11; thereby other people, perfect strangers even, are, gasp, using the events of 9/11 for their own artistic purposes. The nerve! What kind of lackadaisical, unresponsive government do we have that won't go in there and seize a copyright from its owner?!

The New York Daily News says,

...photographer Gregg Brown, who was paid about $300,000, refused to sign an agreement that would have given the city ownership of 30,000 photos and countless hours of videos - all captured while he was in an NYPD helicopter.

Instead, Brown registered the material with the U.S. Copyright Office for himself, then used some of the video in a documentary, "Words," The News reported. Some of his photos are being sold through a major photo agency.

Full article here.

How dare someone use a moment in history for an artistic endeavor! The nerve. Take a torch to Guernica. Quick. Before somebody goes all weirdo arty on us. God forbid we try to INDIVIDUALLY and INDEPENDENTLY interpret HISTORY.

Sorry... I'm shouting here, but I'm really deeply incensed by this particular level of gross American stupidity. This is the kind of thing that makes hip Euros laugh their butts off at us. Maybe that doesn't bother you, but I can't sleep at night sometimes for thoughts of snotty, gorgeously attired, reed-thin, brilliant French chain-smokers all laughing at me outside Deux Magots. It was bad enough when I was a teenager.

tags: Guernica, 9/11 victims

Mistaken Epiphany

In more News From Space, I've had a really wacky go of things lately whereby I:

A.) Thought the suburbs were cool.
B.) Felt that maybe Bill Campbell wasn't such a bad guy after all.

I'm still plagued by the astonishing discovery last week, en route to a suburban ice rink, again, that out there in the deepest of 'burbs, almost exurb territory, lies this great, new fast-food franchise which serves-up wonderfully fresh, healthy, cheap food.

("And what were you doing lurking in the 'burbs," you mutter? I had, foolishly, allowed my child to watch the U.S. Figure Skating Championships recently on TV. As a result, she now has visions of spinning herself into a coma while dressed like a grinning pole dancer, and as there are no ice rinks conveniently located at, say, Ansley Mall... you get the picture. And you know what iced madness begins tonight...)

Back to the story at hand... Take for example this $2 salad:

There just isn't any place in-town where you can get a $2 salad of this caliber. Why not? Why do we have to pay, for starters, about $7 for something similar? Man, if I was an entrepreneurial kinda gal, I'd sink some serious money into Artuzzi's, a new franchise owned and operated by the Moe's people. These folks know what they're doing.

So, I start thinking that the 'burbs could be tolerated, even appreciated, and that maybe there could be Artuzzi's and dirt cheap gyms on every inner city street corner, and that way we could fix the national health crisis. Then I looked around at all the bland, fat people all over the 'burbs and thought, "F-it. I'm headed back to town," whereby I ran promptly right into a slim, quite nice-looking Bill Campbell at a Midtown pub.

As Hiz DisHonor was moreorless blocking the door to the entrance of the place, I had no choice but to extend my hand and say something. I wanted to say, "Hey, didn't I just see you on Channel 2 in a courtroom sketch/drama about 1/2 hour ago," as I'd actually just seen such a sight. Instead, I summoned all my Raised Right Southern Girl powers and muttered something about, "Seems to be going well for you. As much as one can tell about that sort of thing."

Good Lord, what was I thinking? I have no EARTHLY idea how federal, mayoral corruption trials are supposed to be going. Talk about making nice-nice on the fly. I do know that the Campbell trial is the best thing not really on TV we're not really following. Why not is beyond me, as this trial has got it all: cheatin' hearts, sychophants, fools, court jesters, super-sized egos, trips to Paris, illicit behavior, disgraced anchorettes, lame efforts at discretion, sex, cash, cash, cash, more sex, gambling, more gambling... and we haven't even gotten to the Bad Mayorin' part yet!

Perhaps one day there will be cameras in federal courtrooms. If not, maybe in the meantime, a truly independent, (credentialed) genuine blogger at least, with a front row seat to the best show in town who can offer up the sights, sounds and scents of what could be a media orgy of outbursts, contrition, threats, tears, shouts, greed, lust, megalomania, guilt, despair, fallibility, denial, and on and on and on. Yep, it's got it goin' on.

But until such a glaring need is filled, we are reduced to reading tedious, flavorless, same ole same ole AP-style notations from yet another pulse-free reporter with corporate-designated space on a silly website that MSM (Main Stream Media) laughably packages as something a costly, bullshit marketeer told them was a "blog."

Will MSM ever get it? We're not the fools the AJC takes us to be; if those things are blogs, then I'm the illegitimate love-child of Karl Rove and Betty Friedan. Jermaine Dupri and Anne Cox Chambers? Saxby Chambliss and Jane Fonda? Elton John and Sam Massell? Ashley Smith and Clark Howard?

Before I let ya' go, let the record show that Yahoo Inc. is assisting Big Brother. Shame, shame, shame. Li Zhi good man. Yahoo bad, very bad.


Tags: Bill Campbell trial, Li Zhi

Feel Free To Break My Heart

Oh my, Ladies. Have ya'll checked out Brit popster, James Blunt? Click here as fast as you can. You middle-age housewives will simply PASS OUT. Gawd, could there be anything more perfectly indulent on a cold and rainy February day than Back To Bedlam, a cup of Tension Tamer and a book by the fire? How about Wuthering Heights -- again. Oh screw the book. How about young JB here in a ruffley white shirt and a tattered waist coat?

Oh, my my my. I have died and gone to misery-heaven. Just be sure to download the uncensored version of Back To Bedlam. Let's just all go get as black as we can. Jimmy here will turn around and sing about having goals and babies and having to leave and all that Oprah-stuff. Shut Up!

Trust me hon, ain't no gym in the world gonna give you what this CD can. Nor any Yank man for that matter, but that's another blog altogether. Use your money wisely.

In other anglophile (who me?) production notes, are you not just lovin' every minute of Bleak House on Sunday nights!? Gillian Anderson takes Yo, Cold White Bitch to glorious, new heights of acting marvel. As one reviewer put it, "she (Ms. Anderson) can fire a maid like nobody's business."

tags: James Blunt, Back to Bedlam, Gillian Anderson

State of The South

Mrs. King passed away today, the Queen Mother of the South. Will we ever feel such a genuinely regal presence again? Coretta Scott King was composed of a true, noble character. She embodied ideals of Southern womanhood, perhaps ideals aspired to by older generations of women, but timeless values nonetheless, and she was instantly recognizable for a particular comportment rarely witnessed in a public figure, then or now.

Never in public did we ever hear a word of complaint, anger or bitterness from her lips. She was modest and beautiful, faithful and stoic, strong and committed. She cast an aura of warmth and kindness in every step, and she wore a perennial gaze of wisdom, intelligence and pride, although one lowlit with a shadow of sadness and strife.

The depth of her inner reserves of courage and faith must have been of divine, unfathomable proportions as Mrs. King was forced to live much of her life in what must be every mother's nightmare - an inescapable comprehension that there are twisted, dangerous people always lurking, just beyond the reach of the law, who wish to harm not only one's husband, but one's children. Such was the level of evil and rage that permeated the South in the midst of the race war of the Civil Rights movement.

For her, we should never forget that time - nor our history.

So many came to pay respects (and coverage) throughout the day to Coretta Scott at the King Center on Auburn Avenue . How obvious it was that so very few of the hundreds of faces were white ones. How shameful really, as she has always been there - for all of us.

tag: Coretta Scott King

Words Fell

In case you missed the raw, sad interview with Rosanne Cash on Weekend Edition today, here's where you can hear it.

That poor woman's heart still seems on the verge of breaking into a thousand tiny pieces, and taking us all down for the crash with her. Talk about needin' a Python break! (That being a poor gal's version of rushing off to Martinique with a boat load of money and woes shoved in a Prada bag.)

SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM

On Friday, Feb. 3, NPR Music and WXPN offer a midday concert from Rosanne Cash, webcast live at noon ET at NPR.org.

SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM

Best funeral/hearse song ever is "Long Ride Home" by Patty Griffin. Listen to a stingy little Amazon snippet here.

Also, in local Fight Terrorism, Take A Vegan To Lunch At Longhorn Steakhouse news, click here. Good grief. What a waste of EVERYONE'S time!

Tag: rosanne cash

How Do I Quit You, Jesus?

Looks like He quit us instead! Awwww Man. And we missed it. Too busy yakking on our cell phones and twirling nothing into nothing on our iPods.

Click here to touch the video hem of Its garment. Hee-larious.

Firewall of Shame?

Or just looking out for shareholder value? Still the Google.cn controversy rages on through the night...

Point:
"Reporters Without Borders, a France-based group that defends freedom of the press, blasted Google, saying the company was taking an immoral position that could not be justified.
"By offering a version without 'subversive' content, Google is making it easier for Chinese officials to filter the Internet themselves.

A Web site not listed by search engines has little chance of being found by users," the group said in a statement. "The new Google version means that even if a human rights publication is not blocked by local firewalls, it has no chance of being read in China."

With a population of 1.3 billion people and more than 100 million Internet users, China's largely untapped Internet market is very attractive to technology companies. Google is opening a research and development center in China and owns a stake in Baidu.com, the most popular search engine in that country."

Full story from CNET News.com article here.

Counterpoint:
"Millions of people may now be turning away from Google in disgust, but I've just reinstated them as the default search for my Firefox toolbar, because I think it should be supported for its brave decision.

Even if the primary motivation for going into China is that it makes commercial sense for the company - as indeed it must do, since US law is quite harsh on boards that take actions which could damage shareholder value - it also makes political sense.

Supporters of free speech and open societies should be supporting Google rather than lambasting it. "

Full BBC News.com story here.

Filtering and censorship issues regarding the Internet do not exist only in places such as China or Iran or North Korea. Indeed, filtering and access and censorship issues are at a fast and furious pace right here in 'Merica. What you can count on is that the Internet as we now know it will be refined, realigned, redirected and just generally scattered, smothered and covered right here. WE are ground zero for "Internet neutrality" issues.

If you'd like to read more, there's an excellent, albeit rather academic, paper on the web refering to "The Filtering Matrix" you can browse through here. Then, rather partisan but nonetheless illuminating, info on "internet neutrality" and pending legislation to revise the Telecom Act is on the Common Cause website.

Buy Google shares here.

Tags: Google, Sergey Brin

Awesome Moron

But he's ours! Since I'm actually working in the real world again, or at least the taxpayer-funded branch of it, I have, sadly, neglected blogging duties. Here's a fun clip from RocketBoom instead. Boy, do some people have all the fun...

I know this violates my treatise (no link available to such) that anyone not capable of providing "original content" for their own stupid blog should not be allowed to blog, but what's a working gal to do?

Horsey Women Ride Herd On NOLA

Will somebody please get rid of that inflated point of idiocy, Ray Nagin, and install Julia Reed Mayor of New Orleans? Right away. Now!

Ms. Reed was kicking ass and taking names on Larry King last night, stating that every time Ray Nagin opens his "lunatic" mouth, not only do "chocolate" frogs come flying out, but precious attention is, again, diverted from what exactly IS going on in New Orleans. And a lot of really great things seem to be shaping up, if the cameras would ever get over Mr. Chocolate.

As one blogger says, those "horsey Uptown (New Orleans) women" are running the whole show in NOLA anyway. And it's about time they got the credit, rather than some grossly inefficient, camera-preening stooge who's already screwed everyone in his wake, white and black, front to back. Let the horsey women rule, dammit.

Of course I adore Ms. Reed, because not only is she a Vogue contributor, she inscribed her hilarious book, Queen of the Turtle Derby, to me "from one Southern writer to another." I literally walked on air outta Barnes and Noble after the signing clutching the purchase to my bosom.

I was so giddy with author awe, I completely forgot my manners. I should have asked Ms. Reed, an infamous world class partier of legendary standards on the Southern Bad Girl Society circuit, if she'd have cared to join me for a round at the Yacht Club, or at least a martini at Twist. Silly me. I just hope to have the opportunity for clear thinking nice-nice at some point down the road.

Tags: Julia Reed, Ray Nagin

Alligator Lizards In The Hair

Never having had access here in the ATL, I'd never heard a word uttered from Howard Stern's ugly mouth, but I caught him on Larry King the other night and naturally fell in love with the way he's giving the finger to the FCC. Sign me up!

Congress and the FCC are on one of those coffer-replenishing "decency" rampages of late. And Jeff Jarvis over at BuzzMachine is really pissed-off. Says the Big JJ:

"There is no free speech about free speech in Washington because Washington can't hear. The scandal here is that Washington acts as if it listens to and represents the people by holding these hearings. But the people are not welcome."

Full outrage here.

So when we all storm the Big Media Bastille, take over the airwaves and roast Michael Powell on a bonfire of used iPods, I'll have my "American Romantic" show. First on the playlist, Ventura Highway. Don't you dare laugh at me. I love that song.

Seems America has been drinking some Apple-flavored Kool-Aid of late. Can't quite figure out if this is a good thing or a bad thing -- yet.

Here's your moment of classic American Romantic, kiddies. And you thought you were cool.

Are All Men Really Gay?

Funny, I was just reading a short story which attempts to place the burden of gross societal isolation on male homosexuality, or, better yet, on men's ultimate indifference to the fate of women/womanhood, in a short story collection by Alexander McCall Smith, the African author of The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency. Or is it just indifference to intimacy in general? Tune-in to Brokeback Mountain to find out more.

So then I sneaked a peek on that same movie by reading the DTL review first. Hate when that happens, but as a single working mom, I'm way too busy being a societal scourge myself to get to the cinema as often as I'd like. Too many men to vilify/screw while stirring the meth pot instead. I'll be sure to cry extra tears to make up for his deficit when I finally see this must-see for the NPR set.

If only there was a fiction writer courageous enough to just lay it all on the line and advocate a complete separation of the sexes. Margaret Atwood is likely the only female writer brilliant enough to undertake that considerable task.

Note that I place emphasis on the word "fiction," as I'd hate for reality to intrude on a good fantasy. Those glib, attention-grabbing titles such as MoDo's bestselling Are Men Necessary? are clever and righteous as long as you're gettin' some. If not, then that camera loving, Bible thumpin', Oprah-speak spewin', bad-teeth brother in-law of a dead coal miner on CNN starts looking adorable. And books, well... not so terribly engrossing.

Of all the seemingly zillions of writers I've read over the years, on a cumulative basis, there's probably no one writer's work I've followed more than the ATL's own David T. Lindsay, possibly one of the greatest overlooked media critics on the planet. (I'd call it a "career" rather than "work," but last time I checked, it ain't that.)

It's a crying shame, of almost Brokeback Mountain-hankie proportions, that Mr. Lindsay harbors no grand ambitions, and presumably never has, as he so modestly declares with not so much as a quiver of a proud yet likely grossly underutilized lip. (Think, proportionally, of just the TV lip-flap time allotted to another fine Atlanta writer, Cynthia Tucker, and a veritable wall of shame emerges.)

In a reply to a letter-to-the-editor in the January issue of Stomp and Stammer, an editorial hallmark of the last truly funky publication on the Eastern Seaboard, Lindsay valiantly blurts, "I'm not vying for a gig at the daily newspaper." Jeez hon, who is nowadays?

Sure. About as much as I never think about owning the S-class model.

Despite the (premature) death knell being sounded for all print matter lately, DTL should be at something no less than The Economist. It doesn't matter if you rarely agree with a word he writes. I frequently do not, sometimes to the point of venomous outbursts involving a car or refrigerator door.

But given that there are so few writers with the sheer natural ability and stamina to take you, masterfully, beyond your comfort zone so that you hardly even realize you're out of it until you start to head back to base camp then all of a sudden you're in a freakin' mind-blizzard that's about to hurl you off into the void, again, that you read 'em for the sheer adrenalin rush alone.

Of course, some of us are excellent, experienced, uh, climbers. It's just when we get a little overly confident, stuff starts screwin' up. But I diverge...

DTL's so good, we should be paying to read his work. Hell, he should be given government funding to practice his craft. He should be bathing in a bubble bath of hard-earned, taxpayer C-notes while we serve him fine (French) sparkling wines and (subsidized) domestic pate. Every now and then he could deign to lean over the edge and stuff one of those bills in my diamond-studded thong. Surely that would be a sign of a civilized society, as the reinstatement of the death penalty and assorted warmongering ain't exactly doing it for us right now.

At the very least, there should be a collected series of Lindsay's work available. I say series, as the dude's been at it since I was a teenager, and that, alas, was a long long time ago. It honestly pains me when I think about the dozens of youngsters reading S&S now who know him only as a joyless, forsaken oppressive, and not as the hilariously scathing caustic who could hurl one-liners about awful bands faster than a teen can drone on about his iPod. Twenty or so years later, recalling "The reason ninjas were invented" is enough to make for a darn good day.

Of course, if there was such a book it would be called "unmarketable." Or would it? To understand what technology has done to the literary market place, I direct your attention to this extremely valuable piece, from Wired Magazine's editor-in-chief, about the "Long Tail."

Here's a bit from that:

In 1988, a British mountain climber named Joe Simpson wrote a book called Touching the Void, a harrowing account of near death in the Peruvian Andes. It got good reviews but, only a modest success, it was soon forgotten. Then, a decade later, a strange thing happened. Jon Krakauer wrote Into Thin Air, another book about a mountain-climbing tragedy, which became a publishing sensation.

Suddenly Touching the Void started to sell again. Random House rushed out a new edition to keep up with demand. Booksellers began to promote it next to their Into Thin Air displays, and sales rose further. A revised paperback edition, which came out in January, spent 14 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list. That same month, IFC Films released a docudrama of the story to critical acclaim. Now Touching the Void outsells Into Thin Air more than two to one.

Full article here.

One other note before I let you go, isn't it just good old-fashioned, fun-lovin' narcissistic male arrogance to say that a good woman's vagina, or her brain for that matter, ultimately goes "to waste?!" That's so retro it's almost funny. He's almost funny - again. After all these years. Almost.

So who's so isolated now?

Pirating On Roof Tops

Don't encrypt? Thanks!

Pressure Drop

Uh oh. Kevin over at NG declares that I'm back to blogging, so I'd best get to it although I'm not sure if I have much to say at the moment. This too will pass. Currently, I'm in a boggy state 'o mind where I'm not really good for much except sittin' around wishing I had a long lost friend and a couple beers at my side, a front porch and a funky street to keep watch on.


And what about when Michael Stipe wore his hair long? Then there was the Deacon Lunchbox tribute show I missed and am still kicking myself in the ass for having done so. (Be sure to scroll down for poetry samples.)

Gawd, I loved DL. His and Clay Harper's ludicrous antics got me through many a hell hole back in the day. My dear pal Lu took a beautiful portrait of DL which hangs in her guest bedroom now. I go over and drink too much in hopes of falling asleep there late one night just so I can wake up to that image. Now that would stir some kind of those wonderous early morning musings. (I keep a Coolies 45 near the washing maching just for a regular smirk, least the day's tone get too corporate or humorless.)

And thinking on Lu's amazing portfolio she put together recently on Power Point, at our advancing years, to get into SCAD to finish a degree... what a beautiful angel she is. Then there's that one person whom I can't seem to reach who has held my heart in his hand since I first laid eyes on his sweetest, wild, scruffy self. I would give a million...

This blog put together with help from a Kathleen Edwards CD and a really awful REM bootleg. (Is there any other kind?) Thanks Craig over at Town Cryer. In lieu of anything terribly poignant to say, have some pics from recent time outta the ATL:

Photos courtesy of Tom Roche

Surf's Up

OK then, where were we? My head's been so scrambled lately with such a diverse amount of ya-ya, I'm not sure quite where it is, nor what's quite normal right now. Perhaps a bit of blogging will help straighten it all out, eh?

The holidays did a whammy on me. I'm exhausted. Even with a brief run down to the Lowcountry to admire the view and the marsh perfume, I only succeeded in stirring up emotions and associations and relationships that sometimes should just be left the hell alone.

So it's back to the safety and routine of the ATL. I'll just sit here and contemplate this striking image of what should be home until I render myself suitably situated. If only returning home was filled with such grand serenity. Sometimes home is best contemplated from afar.

And whatever I do, I'm going to sit down and read a least two of the many books given to me for Christmas. While I am pleased that people acknowledge me as an avid reader, as is another of my favorite bloggers, if only I had the leisure time to read 'em. My mother gave me another pointless biography of yet another utterly pointless example of wacko Euro royalty, Princess Alice of Battenberg, the mother of Prince Philip. Talk about a case she was! I can't wait to get to the part where she escapes from the mental hospital to go help the poor. Jeez-us.

Actually Alice, despite suffering from crippling bouts of religion and schizophrenia, managed to actually do something during WWII, unlike most of her pointless Euro-trash relations. She helped save a Jewish woman and her family from the Gestapo, by hiding them under her tiara or nun's habit, presumably -- whatever it was she felt like wearing that year. As I said, what a case. And quite a good read I must admit.

Above shot of Sullivan's Island courtesy of dear friend of a dear friend (Joey "Joe Bob" Hindman), Steve Rhea.