Governor of SC Turned Away At Polls!

Oh Jeez! CNN is reporting that the freakin' Governor of South Carolina was turned away at his Sullivan's Island (Elementary School) polling place because he couldn't find his voter registration card in his wallet.

Things are off to a great start for that place, eh?

Vote!

Yes, now's the time when we all just shut the fuck up and go vote. And then maybe later meet-up at a Georgia Governor's race election night party, eh? To blog it all of course.

UPDATE: Manuel's tonight at 6:30pm seems to be the bloggers' choice for the jumping-off and drinking point.

GO VOTE!!!!!

Cute and Pink and Damn, It's Good!

I just stumbled across the cutest, and very popular, blog by a gal in Singapore. I typically will back right on out of any space I see that's pink and stuff and rattles on like a beer bottle on the floor of your car about the mundane, and is obviously by a Millennial. But this one can write. She really can! She hooked me with this line about a wretching break-up:

3 AM and I force Doritos down my throat because you can't choke on tears when you're busy choking on Doritos.

Here's Angelique, folks.

Gettin' Holy, Hon

A woman is now head of the Episcopal Church. 'Bout time. Now get to work, Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori. God is smiling on you. She told me She was very happy, excited and "keeping it real" about this latest Anglican development. And no, She didn't tell the Fundies. (They're on Her shit list fer sure.) She told me. So there. And maybe you can do something about the headgear in your 9 years as Chief? Great! Love it. Don't ever change! No, wrong message. DO change! Change everything!

The Link That Will Never Go Away

Finally! An online version is now available for the touching and comprehensive obit for John Peel by Tom Roche, published originally by Atlanta's Stomp and Stammer. Jeez, talk about digi-phobia. Worse than the damn Beatles. Here's a taste, but you music geeks sit a spell and read in full here.

I (the writer, Tom) first wrote to John Peel nearly 20 years ago to just say thanks for the weekly BBC show he did on shortwave (received with barely passable reception in Atlanta.) I mentioned that some band he’d played doing a noisy Paul Simon cover was nothing new to Atlantans, home of the memorable all-Paul-Simon-punk-cover-band The Coolies. I didn’t expect a response, but he wrote back promptly. Apparently he didn’t get much international mail at all for his World Service shows other than “play-more-Hall-and-Oates” requests. So in the rare instance someone wrote to say they “got it,” he took note.

In his reply he said I should “tell (Atlanta record label entrepreneur) Danny Beard I played that Coolies record a lot.” He also asked to ship him any Atlanta and regional records he might enjoy. I sent off the 688 Records Compilation, (and he latched on to Dash Rip Rock briefly) and many other records over time. Once, he replied to a post card I’d sent about a great weird reggae record he had played (”Border Clash” by Ninjaman, look it up) by, surprisingly, sending along a copy of that record he’d bought himself. This correspondence went on for years, and we’d meet for a pint whenever I’d visit London. (His current BBC producer said recently that John still spent upwards of 200 pounds a month of his own money in London record shops purchasing records for his shows.

Rest of the pie here.

Blog Yourself A Better Life

Well, that's pushing it I admit. But a richer, more honest life maybe. Tania, again, blows me away, and makes me think and cry and laugh and leave way-honest comments and reach for more. From The Stone's Colossal Dream:

Finally--and I realize I've merely touched and not delved here--as the world gets smaller though technology, the Internet and television show us a lot of pain. We don't have the luxury of ignorance anymore. It keeps us more honest. It should compel us to at least some small action. (Voting maybe.) That's not a bad thing. But I see joy and youthful exuberance everywhere. I see imaginative people letting their hair down, accessing their inner child, acknowledging the wonder of this beautiful, flawed world.

Mind yourselves. Ask questions. Do what's right. Do what's fun. Take your small comfort from the past but revel in progress. Be a part of it.

Don't be so afraid.

Yeah. Tania's blog here.

We Never Needed No Stinkin' Marketeers

Some of us never like 'em anyway. We just always hung out on the long tail 'cause it was, uh, less crowded. Of course the marketeers and the VCs will try to get all mixed-up in there now. Already are. If they can find it. And if they do, well, don't say no one warned 'em that no one out on the long tail is really terribly interested in shuck and jive, especially crap they've already heard before. It's moreorless, the "Where were you while we were getting high?" scenario. I'm gonna shut-up now 'cause I'm starting to sound like a Dylan interview.

Roll your own product. If it's the best, they'll smoke the shit out of it! From Ugly Bobby today:

If you want success today, create something good. Seed the early adopters. And then cease, or at least slow down, your marketing. Because the more you beat people over the head, the less attention they're going to pay. THEY want to feel in control, THEY don't want to feel tools of the system. THEY want to embrace the project, just like you wanted to embrace and tell everybody about "Harold and Maude".

This frightens the purveyors. Because they can nail marketing, but QUALITY? Look at the flicks, they truly suck. Ask the man on the street, he thinks music sucks TOO! To the point where most people have tuned out, and the only people who can bring them back are their buds, who have a RELATIONSHIP with them. Believe me, the marketers at Fox don't have a relationship with their audience. They THINK they do, but they don't. (SGR: Apply same to Mark Halperin.)

Everybody's living in his own little world. Since I was bombarded with "Borat" hype, I thought everybody was aware of the movie. Because I don't talk to every one of the 300 million Americans, I didn't know I was wrong until the research came in.

Hearing the movie's good, I'm gonna give it a chance. Then again, if Fox keeps trumpeting the story, they're gonna kill MY word of mouth, I don't want to work for the man. And neither does the Net generation. WE make the stars, not you. Give us reasonable choices, WE'LL do the work. It won't happen instantly. First week grosses, first week SoundScan numbers, are no longer important. It's about longevity. It won't take forever, because word of mouth happens so quickly on the Net, and we're all in touch with SO many more people on a regular basis. But it's now our game, not yours, don't ever forget it.

Raspberry's all around. Full rant here.

My Pig. My Friend.

This ain't no MySpace bullshit. No CBGBs. (That closed anyway.) This medic in Iraq is 22. Here's an excerpt from his story:

Petty Officer Kirby began to list the schools he had attended to be ready for this moment. Some he had paid for himself, he said, to be extra-prepared.

In one course, an advanced trauma treatment program he had taken before deploying, he said, the instructors gave each corpsman an anesthetized pig.

"The idea is to work with live tissue," he said. "You get a pig and you keep it alive. And every time I did something to help him, they would wound him again. So you see what shock does, and what happens when more wounds are received by a wounded creature."

"My pig?" he said. "They shot him twice in the face with a 9-millimeter pistol, and then six times with an AK-47 and then twice with a 12-gauge shotgun. And then he was set on fire."

"I kept him alive for 15 hours," he said. "That was my pig."

"That was my pig," he said.

He paused. "Smith is my friend."

He looked at his bloody hands. "You got some water?" he said. "I want some water. I just want to wash my wedding band."

Full NYT story by C.J. Chivers here.

TrueGritz In A Skirt

Be sure to pick-up the November issue of Skirt! magazine, now on racks all over the Southeast, and turn immediately to pg. 19. Then cue the Helen Reddy.

Snerk-Snerk

It's name is Snerk. The panda cub's name is Snerk, least that's what the bloggers want. And we all know, what the blogosphere demands, the blogosphere gets. Snerk. I like it. Just one vowel away from one of my favorite words. Now you tell me what that word might be.

Forgive Me Father For I Sin - Early And Often

Looks like some folks were having some wholesome adult fun for Halloween. Lucky dogs! But I did stick close to the well-stocked Wine Wagon we always pull along behind us here in our 'hood when minding the (now droves) of under-7 kiddies as they trick-or-treat themselves into a refined-sugared, wildly-delighted exhaustion.

Fairy Tale

I admit to following every juicy bit of dirt on Atlanta's Sara Blakely, since her life plays out like a modern fairy tale. I'm sure most of it is just a lot of plain hard work, with moments not too far removed from those of us mere mortals. Of course, the continuous shower of glowing notices that rave about her glorious existence are bound to afflict the "common" reader with a momentary pang or two of pure envy and wistfulness.

And yes, for those with lives that seem to play out like a series of hard knocks rather than boundless global opportunity, we always wish (and work towards, in every way we possibly can) for our daughters an entrepreneurial fairy tale just like Sara's.

Oddly enough, as I'm out and about on this town more often than not, I've never met the luminous Ms. Blakely. But fleeting twinges of pea-green aside, I certainly hope our paths cross one day. You gotta love a gal who's marrying a dashing younger man obviously in possession of enough delightful vision and zest for life, and for women, to say that he sought a partner who would be "challenging on all levels."

Let's toast the engagement and the happiness of this delightful Atlanta woman all around, and may her success and joie de vie sprinkle down and inspire us even more.

The (Rove) Love That Dares Not Speak Its Name

Oh, for chrissake! I'm just about to lose it now. ABC News' Mark Halperin's ho-in' ways truly know no bounds.

As one of the cardinal sins of being the ultimate Inside The Beltway impresario is to admit to being just that, the pundits and political media creatures-of-the-night will go to no ends of pure lunacy to spout not only their (imaginary) badge of impartiality, but to deliver a one-two punch with their (blindingly ridiculous) insights into political reality beyond Washington.

This time around, Mark Halperin tells us what we outside the beltway are really all about:

If Democrats win a big victory next Tuesday, it will be interesting to hear Rove's explanation. But for goodness' sake, as Abramowitz was smart enough to demonstrate, people who live in Bethesda, Chevy Chase, and Manhattan should understand that in much of red America, Rove is beloved and respected, and they should ask themselves why that is.

So come on, you Red State Wonders in the blogosphere... tell us how your Rove Love surely overfloweth, if you even know who the dude is. I'm going to go hurl, again.

Considering the only place Big Media hoes have ever witnessed this mysterious Rove Love, which we're told burns deep in all our hearts here in the heartland, is within the mega-confines of a micro-managed, ultra-controlled, carefully staged fundraiser, or on Air Force One, or at some vote-trolling stopover at a hand-picked, Republican-sponsored event, then no doubt it could very well look like a Rove fuckfest out here, given that staged, elitist vista.

But guess what, Halperin? This may totally blow your squirelly mind, but some of us figured-out long ago that TV is fake. And so are you. Now shut-up and Note yourself back into your delusional power-trip of mainlining mainstream sensibilities -- and leave us the f alone.

Technorati tags: Mark Halperin, Karl Rove, ABC News

Bigger Than Jesus

Halloween is overtaking Christmas as the most over-the-top holiday of the year. We've already gone through two costume changes, two parties, one Harry Potter dinner, a monster truck-load of candy corn (me), and the damn day's not even here. After viewing her best friend's front yard, wildly decorated to within every blade of grass with a host of holy ghosties and webbing and tombstones and scattered bones, my daughter exclaimed, "Wow. This is amazing. We've got to catch-up, Mom."

Sorry, wee one. That one smallish pumpkin on the walkway and the lovely picture you made at school now taped to the front door is about it for our association-ruled house. And that $4 plastic light-up jack-o-lantern that burns through battery life faster than a laptop. Now go forth and create yet another costume, the most popular this year being the $10 "Mean Evil" (Medieval) Princess gown found on the half-price rack at Eckerd's. It needed only a few additions from mommy's infinitely coveted accessory closet.

And yeah, all you Harry Potter haters, the Three Hermiones were from a Harry Potter-themed dinner, sponsored by *** Holy Gospel According To Hogwarts, Batman *** our church. Take that, you fucktard Gwinnettian.

Abort That

How do you silence a blowhard talk show host? Tell him you had an abortion! If he responds at all, chances are it will be with total fucktard idiocy, as in this case. One day men will de-volve themselves right off of this planet, mark my word. From Stephanie Kline's blog:

Obviously, he (talk show host) didn't hear me. "What's your baby daddy up to these days?" (asked the talk show host.)

"I don't have a baby daddy. When I discovered my husband was off running around town with another woman while I was pregnant, I had an abortion and a divorce. That's what the book is about, moving on when you find yourself in a situation you'd never imagined." DEAD AIR. He said nothing. I nearly said, "Hello?" to check if anyone was on the other end of the phone.

After a really long silence, he responded, "I don't even know what to say to that." I'd shocked the shock-jock. I hadn't meant to. It's not my fault he didn't bother to skim Straight Up And Dirty before plugging it on his show. Instead, he spent a good portion of air time talking about how much he favors a Grey Goose Dirty Martini.

Then after more silent reflection, he added, "Did you know abortions can affect future pregnancies?" He said this to punish me, somehow. He wanted to make it clear that what I did was wrong, and that I would be punished. He didn't discuss God or his beliefs, but I could tell, in the response he managed to muster, his God punished people.

It was an ignorant statement, assuming abortions lead to problems sometime down the line. "Well mine is progressing just fine," I responded. Fuck you very much.

Order a copy of Straight Up And Dirty in the meantime. Praise the Lord and pass the martinis and a copy of this book. Ha. There are a few total fucktards in this town, and elsewhere, who'd be real nervous real quick if I ever decided to blog as honestly as Ms. Klein.

Hitting Home

I'm sorry, this picture by Doug Mills and shamelessly stolen from the NYT, made me cry today; I, too, have a six-year old girl. What a horror October has been. This war, and the pain it inflicts, belongs to all of us. Full story here.

Pretty As A Picture

Western North Carolina is a'blaze with color. These snaps from pals Tom and Cheryl Roche, who attended a swanky wedding in Asheville last weekend. They're the smartly-dressed ones who appear to be having a lovely time.

The Magna Carta of Web 2.0

As delightful as it is to find pure villany in the Bells, since the fate of net neutrality lies in the hands of their lobbyists and their silos of cash, the telco lobbyists did change the face of Internet copyright law, for the better one might argue. Fascinating stuff. From Tim Wu writing for Slate.

Under the copyright code, YouTube is in much better legal shape than anyone seems to want to accept. The site enjoys a strong legal "safe harbor," a law largely respected by the television and film industries for the choices it gives them.

But the most interesting thing is where all this legal armor protecting YouTube—and most of the Web 2.0 (user-generated content) industry—comes from. It's the product of the Bell lobby—Google's bitter opponent in the ongoing Net Neutrality debates.

So, while YouTube may be the creative child of Silicon Valley, it is also, as much, the offspring of Bell lobbying power.

This is one of those legalese pieces I will have to read at least 3X to wrap my pea-brain around, but trust me, I will. And I still feel that we the people, or at least our legislators whom we send to Capitol Hill, should be the ones writing legislation, not corporate America. But that's soooo spittin' into the hurricane winds of our current political norms/corruption.

UPDATE: Uh, just in case.

Technorati tags: BellSouth, net neutrality, copyright, telcos

Theremin Noir

It just doesn't get any more strango funky-cool than a theremin player on Boing Boing... especially when you know him because he's married to one of your best friends! I see you Robbie V. Stylin' and thereminin' out there on the West Coast. How? Because I've got blogger X-ray vision.

Pimps and Hos

This Mark Halperin/ABC News quote just made me roll out laughing, as I mention in a comment here where I found it. Thanks for the tip, Doug.

As an economic model, if you want to thrive like Fox News Channel, you want to have a future, you better make sure conservatives find your product appealing.

It's a hoot not so much because he's such a total ho; rather, it's funny because I can't think of a single lifelong MSM political reporter who would know an "economic model" if it hit 'em upside the head. Oh they know ratings and polls and all that kinda data, but that's about it, hon.

I don't have the heart to tell him there's a slight difference out here in the real world between ratings and economic realities. What a joke! Keep it coming, blow hards. I'm almost there.