Brazilian women: beyond the media icons

Posted on June 30, 2014 by Sabina Becker

Video in Portuguese (with Spanish subtitles — no English, sorry).

And if the first thing that came into your head when you read “Brazilian women” was a blond supermodel, or a pair of muscular buttocks wiggling in a teeny bikini, congratulations: You’ve been sucked in by a media bullshit campaign. Brazil’s TV stations are owned by just six families, and heavily invested in promoting (or rather, pimping) just ONE picture of Brazilian women: white, rich, with straight blond hair, tall and slim, heterosexual, usually surgically enhanced…and a constant, parsley-like sexual accessory to the menfolks. (In one scene, a businessman is seen talking away to another man at his desk while his bare foot is fondling the rump of a bikini-clad model lying on a lounge-chair next to him. Yes, really!)

But the “icon” of Brazilian womanhood is being challenged…by Brazilian women themselves. Black, brown, Asian and white, they’ve taken up the fight against this media campaign. The Slutwalk movement, which began here in Canada as a response to a Toronto cop who stupidly told women not to “dress like sluts” in order to avoid rape, has caught on big-time in South America, where women — over-sexualized in the media for decades, and in the minds of church and state for centuries — are now marching and chanting slogans like: “Beware, beware, beware, machista! Latin America is turning feminista!” Women are challenging not only their false image in the media, but capitalism itself…for, after all, that phoney image is there to sell things, by presenting an “aspirational” world that ignores reality, and poverty, completely. And when the media in one country — a land with a population in the hundred-millions — are owned by just six wealthy families, it’s glaringly obvious what the real problem is. And so is why women everywhere — in Canada as well as Brazil — are sick and tired of it.

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Music for a Sunday: My head’s in a lion’s mouth

Posted on June 29, 2014 by Sabina Becker

This song is just great on so many levels, combining the sunny sound of early ’60s British pop with country and blues elements, and a foretaste of the Who’s later record-breaking, high-decibel guitar whangs. It’s timeless and badass all at once.

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Wankers of the Week: Crappy World Pride!

Posted on June 28, 2014 by Sabina Becker

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Crappy weekend, everyone! And a crappy Pride Week to all my LGBT friends. Well, folks, the stoopid season is upon us like heat on a summer’s day. And I’ve got your thirty degrees of idiot right here:

1. Theresa Fucking May. Um, the UK is fairly bristling with surveillance cameras on every street corner, and now word is out that Her Majesty’s Intelligence Services have been spying on ordinary Britons — yes, even total non-terrorists with not a terrorist affiliation to speak of — as well. And yet this twit has the gall to say it’s NOT a surveillance state? Big Brother would be so pleased to see that tyranny could be achieved without ever once resorting to Ingsoc.

2. Robin Fucking Thicke. Ew ew ew ew, ew ew EW. Ooky yucky icky POO! That is all.

3. Roy Fucking Moore. What part of “Congress shall make no law” does he not understand? There is NO official religion in the US, and it doesn’t fucking matter what came over on the Mayflower. Nobody is a Puritan anymore. What diploma mill graduated this idiot of a so-called judge, anyway?

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4. William Fucking Walters. A Kluker on the neighborhood watch? A “Grand Dragon”, no less? Yeah, that’ll go well. As will the attempt to rebrand an institutionally racist organization as a non-racist, “take out the trash” buncha guys.

5. Nicholas Fucking Wig. Pro tip: When burgling a house, don’t use their computer to check your Facebook. And don’t leave it logged in to your page, either. Otherwise, you’ll earn a new status…as the world’s stupidest criminal.

6. Adam Fucking Kuhn. Pro tip: When acting as a congressional aide, don’t tweet dickpix to porn stars. In fact, don’t tweet dickpix to ANYONE.

7. Cathy Fucking Young. I have no idea why any woman would think it’s a good idea to be a rape apologist, much less a rape enabler. But she’s both, and seems to take a wankish amount of contrarian pleasure in the fact. Much like rapists get off on the vulnerability and fear of their victims, secure in the knowledge that the culture is making it easy for them to do just that, eh?

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8. Gary Fucking Oldman. And speaking of apologists, how about him…defending the indefensible Mel Fucking Gibson and his antisemism? And no, dude, you don’t get to dictate which parts of your interview get cut so you don’t end up looking like a bigot yourself. Much less whine about the “PC police”.

9. Bryan Fucking Eichfeld. Global warming denialism is “well-founded science”? Only in the eyes of the stupid, the uneducated…and teabaggers. Oh wait, I think I was repeating myself there.

10. Eleanor Fucking Levine. Oh, so you want a “very valid reason” why CAFE was excluded from Toronto’s World Pride parade? Well, how about the fact that this “men’s rights” group is aligned with the abusers’ lobby? The fact that they lied to Revenue Canada to get rubber-stamp charitable status? And the very, VERY valid reason that they haven’t done shit for GAY men’s rights…because gay guys have been taking care of that, without recourse to misogyny or antifeminism, for decades? Will that do?

11. Peter Fucking McKay. So, you think you get to tell us when the talk about your fuddy-duddy old-man sexism should stop, Petey? Nuh-uh…and don’t go putting any words in the mouth of your wife or your (alleged) female staffers, either. That “it’s not sexism if I make a woman say it” shit didn’t fly when Robert Heinlein did it in his fiction, so why should you get a pass? PS: Ha, ha!

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12 and 13. David and Jason Benham. So, they’re prepared to die in battle for homophobia’s sake? Challenge accepted! Giant buzzing dildos at dawn, boys.

14. Ben Fucking Carson. Oh, fer fucksakes. The “New World Order” is a CAPITALIST plot, you bloody stooge. If you’re going to go peddling stupid conspiracy theories about Marxism, you better start learning what the fuck Marxism actually is.

15. Greg Fucking Kelly. Yup, nothing says FUX Snooze professionalism like an anchor perving on a bikini-clad reporter. I can only imagine what he’d say if she were interviewing nudists on the beach.

16 and 17. Leonardo Fucking Garcia and Daniel Fucking Palchik. Just because a Ferrari’s in your repair shop, doesn’t mean you get to take it out for a spin. And just because it CAN go fast, doesn’t mean you should make it. Especially if the end result is that you’re going to be hammering the damage out of that sucker for the rest of your (hopefully short) mechanical careers.

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18. Amado Fucking Boudou. If you ever wanted to make a case for why some things should NEVER be out-contracted to the corporate sector, looks like the soon-to-be-former vice president of Argentina just made it for you. And in this case, the thing is printing money. I shit you not.

19. Chantal Fucking Barry. Any doctor unwilling to prescribe the Pill (or any other birth control) has no business being a doctor. If you can’t separate your religion from your job, find another fucking job!

20. Jordan Fucking Haskins. And because it wouldn’t be a wankapedia without at least one actual wanker, here you go. This one would like you to please ignore his previous career as a serial wanker (and hot-wirer of cars) and elect him as a state rep in Michigan. Oh yeah, and of course, he’s a Repug. Doesn’t that just so figure?

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21. Justin Fucking Lookadoo. Look, a douche! Ha, ha…that will NEVER get old. And look! He’s also drunk and covered in vomit. I do believe that makes him UNDATEABLE. Ha, ha.

22. Joy Fucking Pinto. If birth control is from “the pit of hell”, may I ask just how many children this woman has? And if she’s taken any kind of artificial measures to limit their number, wouldn’t that make her a fucking hypocrite? And if the “real war on women” is being waged by giving them the freedom to have sex with impunity, what on Earth is the reward for listening to this wild-eyed freak, anyway?

23. Mike Fucking Friend. Who the fuck fires a howitzer at a civilian rifle range? And who the hell LETS them? Irresponsible fucking idiots, that’s who.

24. John Fucking Huppenthal. Still not resigning or apologizing over all those racist blog trollposts? Still a fucking wanker. PS: Cry me a Nile, crocodile.

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25. Adam Fucking Levine. Douchebaggery: Long suspected. Also, confirmed by really fucking wimpy denial.

26. William Fucking Gheen. Dude. Don’t send your dirty underwear to undocumented immigrants…they don’t need it. Sell that shit on Craigslist to those who are truly worthy of your panic-soiled tighty-whities, ‘kay?

27, 28, 29 and 30. Jesse Fucking Deboard, Chris Fucking Masters, Christina Fucking Tharp, and Stephanie Fucking Coverman. Oh look, it’s a well-regulated militia! Nope…just four stupid gunsuckers parading their metal penises and spouting racist slurs on the street in broad daylight in yet another open-carry fuckfest of Teh Hardcore Stoopid. And now you’re getting arrested for it. Ha, ha.

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And finally, to all the fuckwitted fucknuts in Arizona who attended this fucking idiotic public hearing on “chemtrails”. People, get a grip…it’s only fucking jet exhaust. You live under the flight paths of a busy airport, fer fucksakes. If “they”, whoever “they” are, wanted to kill you with toxic bug spray, don’t you think they’d be buzzing your houses in crop-dusters, instead of jets leaving condensation trails at 30,000+ feet? Anyway, “they” don’t exist, either. And it looks like the only sinister force out to kill you is your own fucking stupidity. A pity it isn’t working any faster.

Good night, and get fucked!

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Festive Left Friday Blogging: Happy 106th, Mr. President

Posted on June 27, 2014 by Sabina Becker

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Hard to believe this guy is already 106 years young. And that he’s been gone for the last 40 of them. But his memory lives on, and the Chilean internets are determined to keep it shining brightly:

On the 106th anniversary of his birth, more than 25 official speeches by the late Chilean president, Salvador Allende, can be seen by internet users on the non-profit website, Wikimedia Chile.

The martyred president was born in Santiago, Chile, on June 26, 1908.

According to a press release by the organization, the project, known as “Official Speeches of Salvador Allende”, is now in the second phase of transcription and digitalization.

The objective of the project is to make known the legacy Allende left to the Chilean people. “Saving the transcriptions of his official speeches has become an important goal for everyone in the working group,” says the release.

In the second semester of the current year, Chilean investigators will begin a third step with each of the parliamentary sessions Allende held as head of state.

Currently, the Salvador Allende Foundation has some 280 speeches by the late dignitary, which are for the most part typewritten and printed on very old paper.

“Patrimonial rescue is the task of a culture or civilization which avoids losing its memory and wants to preserve its legacy for posterity,” assures Wikimedia Chile on its blog.

Translation mine.

The speech of Allende’s that impresses me the most is the very last one he gave, over radio, as a fascist military putsch (enabled, backed, armed and financed by Washington) was going down, and air-force bombers were strafing the Moneda palace. He doesn’t sound suicidal, but rather determined to fight those bastards to the death: clear, calm, even optimistic. He probably knew he was doomed, but he still had faith in his country and its people. And that faith is being justified. While Pinochet’s dead dictatorial hand slowly releases its evil grip, Chileans are rescuing their country’s real history…and with it, the memory of a man who was more popular in his short rule than his enemy ever was during his much-too-long one.

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Come see me eat nipples!

Posted on June 27, 2014 by Sabina Becker

Y’okay. Now that we’ve got the silliness out of our systems (and the deliberately bad English translations of Bollywood dance numbers), let’s talk a bit about nipples.

Perhaps you’ve seen the Tata Top, and heard of #FreeTheNipple? Yeah, boobs are in the news again. And it’s all because female mammaries are (a) sexualized, and (b) CENSORED.

Oh yeah, and also because (b) is a direct outgrowth of (a). And vice versa.

And because the Puritans are dead, but small-p puritanism still lives in the US, and Canada too, by extension. Even though it’s legal for women to go topless up here, and has been for decades, most of us won’t do it unless we’re strictly among people we love and trust.

And some of us — me, for instance — won’t even do it in our own backyards.

Granted, I have sound health reasons for not taking advantage of our liberal clothing laws. I’m a natural redhead, and that means fair skin that burns easily. I don’t tan for shit, and I don’t want skin cancer, either. So when it gets hot, I tend to run for cover. And let my big, baggy ol’ t-shirts be my shady tents, especially if it’s too hot for bras.

But even if sunburn weren’t an issue, I’d still be reluctant to go out in a bikini top. Never mind one that’s cleverly colored (and printed) to look like bare breasts.

Now, why do you suppose that is?

Well, for starters, I’m very well endowed. Not bragging, but not ashamed of what I’ve got either. I love my bazookas, even though they complicate my life no end.

And yes, they do complicate it. I’ve been sexually harassed even while fully clothed. By strangers. By acquaintances. By people I thought I could trust. And this has been going on for as long as I’ve had boobs at all. Even tiny, barely-budding ones, at the age of 10. Know what that means? It means that for the past 36 years, I’ve been covering up in a vain and useless attempt to ward off unwanted attention, comments, grabs, and general grossness.

It’s like me having boobs gives random guys some kind of licence to get all yucky with ’em. And that’s why I can’t have a simple, uncomplicated, happy affection for my gazongas.

And it’s not just me. In fact, it’s not even just women who’ve had to face this sort of creepy censorious/sexualized treatment of their bodies. As Scout Willis found out, men once had to fight for the right to go shirtless in public on hot days. And I recall reading that in Spain, during the Franco dictatorship, newspapers had to hire photo-retouchers just to paint undershirts on prizefighters in the sports section, lest Spanish ladies have their modesty offended by the sight of — gasp! — male nipples.

Well, my modesty isn’t offended by the sight of a man’s bare chest. I’ll gladly look at attractive ones, and even think to myself that cool dude so-and-so sure looks hot with his shirt off. I like guys; love them, even. So why should my modesty be affected by the sight of one running around half naked?

In fact, as I’ve pointed out before, what some call “modesty” is nothing more than our right not to be sexually molested. It exists no matter what we wear, how we act, or where we go. But by putting the onus on women to “keep modest” so as not to be molested, it puts the burden on the wrong person. If I could be harassed (as in fact I was) while wearing a puffy coat, baggy jeans, and Doc Martens — and not a speck of makeup — then clearly what I’m wearing or not wearing is not the issue. (For the record, I’ve also been left strangely unmolested while wearing miniskirts.) The blame should be on the harasser, not the harassed. And since I didn’t harass myself, but guys harassed me — gee, you don’t suppose maybe guys could do with a bit of educating, do you?

Nah, of course not. Men are all perfect. Rape culture doesn’t apply to them. Their bodies aren’t sexualized like ours are. It’s we women who have to cover up, worry about how we look, and second-guess ourselves constantly. We have to do it all for them, so they never have to do it for themselves.

And that, pardon the expression, really chafes my tits.

So, here’s my radical thought for the day: Guys, remember that your forefathers had to fight for the right to walk around half-naked where others could see them. And remember, too, that even though your right to seminudity is fully legal and unremarkable, hordes of women aren’t running after you, catcalling you and pawing your body, no matter how effin’ gorgeous it is. There’s a reason for that: We got Nice Girl training. We are taught from an early age not to be rude, forward and unmannerly. But more than that, we know how gross we’d feel if someone did that to us. And we don’t view you as our property. We don’t think you’re there for us to just wipe ourselves on. We think you have a right to be left in peace — to not be touched unless you make it clear that you want us touching you.

And if you reciprocate, and stop making such an idiotic fuss about our boobs, you might in fact be making this world a much better — and cooler — place.

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A royal embarrassment for the ex-king of Spain?

Posted on June 22, 2014 by Sabina Becker

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Well, two, actually. Ingrid Sartiau and Albert Solá are their names. Both have reason to believe that their biological father is Juan Carlos de Borbón, better known as the former King Juan Carlos of Spain. And with the king’s abdication, both are now pressing forward with their paternity suits, in the hope of finally getting the truth out of him, at least:

When they bundled Albert Solá into a jeep and pulled him at high speed from some live-fire exercises in Los Monegros, it seemed very strange to him. It was February 1978, and he was a 22-year-old private doing his military service in the Saboya de Leganés regiment, but they told him that his father had had an accident, they gave him eight days’ leave, and “even offered to take me to Girona”. He rode back to his village, guarded by another vehicle. “When I arrived, my father was working in the field. There had not been any serious accident.” He was glad; he was young, and eight days’ leave from the military were eight free days.

That anecdote can be added to the shocking beginnings of his military service, in 1977: he joined the encampment 17 days after the rest of his comrades because of some endless medical exams which the army performed on him. “It was the most complete medical checkup of my life.”

Another strange event in his changeful life. He was born in the Barcelona Maternity Hospital in 1956, son of a single mother, and was given to a family in Ibiza to be raised. “Someone paid 300 pesetas a month for the wet-nursing.” When he was nearly 8 years old, he was given in adoption to a farming couple, Salvador Solá and Antonia Jiménez.

Now he knows he was torn from the arms of his mother, whom they told that she had given birth to a very sick boy who needed special care, and they moved her to Switzerland to avoid a scandal in Barcelonese society. Today he knows that five years after his birth, his biological mother was given the corpse of a boy the same age as he, who had died in hospice. “They told her it was me, her son Alberto. She buried him and gave herself over to her sorrow.”

“I never looked for the king,” says Albert Solá Jiménez, who says he is the natural son of [ex-king] Juan Carlos de Borbón. “They came looking for me” when he lived in Mexico, because his biological mother knew he was alive and wanted to meet him. And, even though this meeting didn’t take place, Solá began to ask questions and investigate his origins. He took the judicial route to access his adoption papers. His surprise was greater when a judge in Barcelona met with him and his attorney to grant him access to the documents, and said in the chamber, as Sola says: “Now do you know who is the father of this man? Juan Carlos de Borbón, king of Spain.”

Solá was stunned. Suddenly, he began to piece together the hidden fragments of his life, “and I could put a face to this sensation that I’d always had that someone was ruling over my destiny, someone I could not identify, but whom I always perceived in a powerful and indefinite form.” In his eyes, that power directing his life was “the hand of Francisco Franco”, since his biological mother’s family had strong ties to the Franco régime. And, later, the knowledge “of determined powers” that he could be the son of Juan Carlos de Borbón. That is what he says, and that is his conviction.

On Friday, Juan Carlos I abdicated, following the publication in the Official Bulletin of State of the organic law off the succession of Felipe VI. And on that day, his immunity as head of state ended. On Monday, Solá’s attorney will present a writ of extension so that this new circumstance may be taken into account.

The law does not take into account how to proceed regarding the paternity suit which Solá filed in a Madrid court concerning the head of state, because no such regulation exists. For that reason, the judge archived the case at the same time as the monarch’s immunity became law.

Now, the “express” reform which the government has put in place against possible civil suits which might arise against Juan Carlos de Borbón, the abdicated king, who enjoys parliamentary immunity before the Supreme Court.

Solá went over the archive of his paternity suit from October. Deliberations over the recourse are slated for September 9 in the Civil Court of Madrid, Section 24.

For that reason, on Monday, the writ of extension will be presented. It will argue that a new event has occurred, which affects the petition. In this case, the abdication. Article 286 of the Law of Civil Trials permits presentation of such a writ if there is an event of relevance before a sentence is handed down.

Solá’s attorney, Francisco Bueno Celdrán, emphasizes that the right to identity is one of the fundamental rights of a person. In case Juan Carlos de Borbón’s immunity persists, because the suit was filed when he was head of state, they will solicit the exhumation of the body of his father, Juan de Borbón, for the relevant DNA tests, as he never reigned. Bueno also insists that the ex-king’s immunity does not extend to his private actions, but to the exercise of headship of state, and says that the case is not a “settled matter”, because the judge in the first instance did not probe the matter in depth. All these matters must be resolved in the audience.

“I know how it all will end: with a ‘yes’ from him,” concludes Solá, referring to his suspected biological father. To be sure, that “yes” will recognize that he, Alberto Fernando Augusto, registered as a newborn in the Civil Register of 1956 and in the Maternity Hospital’s records as son of Anna María Bach Ramón, is the first-born son of Juan Carlos de Borbón.

Albert Solá tells his life story with a mixture of Catalan accent and Mexican inflection. Because, as an adult, he moved to Mexico, where his two daughters reside.

In a trip to Spain in 1988, he went to the Maternity Home in Barcelona, in order to learn about his adoption proceedings; he wanted to know who his parents were. They refused to give the information to him, so he had to solicit it via the judicial route. A year later, the Maternity Home called him: his mother had appeared. He got his hopes up and began to write to her. Two years later, his wife received an anonymous phone call. they told her that they had been deceived, that this woman was not Solá’s biological mother.

In 1998, Albert Solá hired a detective agency. And there he found out that his surnames could be Ramón Bach, because he was listed in the Maternity Home as Bach Ramón, but it was a habit of the times to reverse the surnames in the case of a single mother’s child.

He returned to Spain in 2000, summoned by Javier U.R., a resident of Guadalajara, who contacted him in Mexico through acquaintances. He claimed to be speaking as a representative of Solá’s mother and that she wanted to meet him. Solá arrived on August 8, checked in at the Hotel Plaza, and waited and waited. She did not contact him. In September, he went to live at the home of his adoptive mother in Girona, to wait for news. The man contacted him again, and confessed that “he was under a lot of pressure”. He called him to Pastrana and advised him that it would be prudent. “I didn’t know where Pastrana was.”

He arrived there, and Javier told him again of the “great pressure” which “many people” were putting on him over the case, but Solá didn’t get anything more out of him. He decided to cut off relations with this person, because he believed that he was being fooled once again. “I bought a return ticket for Mexico. Then I got an anonymous phone call which told me: ‘We know you want to leave the country. For your safety, don’ty do it.'” The call ended.

Solá decided to stay in Spain and access his adoption papers judicially. There were 42 documents.

When he uncovered the possible paternity, he received another message, and sensed that his biological mother was in danger. “They begged me ‘not to do her harm, she’s on your side’…I know that one day, I’ll meet her.”

In 2012, a Belgian citizen, Ingrid Sartiau, contacted Solá over the Internet. She also claims that she is a child of Juan Carlos de Borbón, fruit of the monarch’s relationship with Liliane Sartiau in 1966.

Both have had DNA tests done by Jean-Jacques Cassiman of Louvain University. The result is that they have a high likelihood of a shared progenitor.

Translation mine.

“High likelihood of a shared progenitor” — in short, a father in common. And if Juan Carlos isn’t forthcoming for the DNA tests and insists on maintaining his royal immunity (as he is very likely to do, if this article is any indication), then they’ll have to exhume his father’s body — their suspected biological grandfather — and obtain a sample from it. Juan de Borbón was never king, and that’s a legal loophole that the parliament may not be able to close in time, or at all.

And if Juan Carlos isn’t the father of Albert Solá, I’ll eat my hat, because that man is the spitting image of him. Younger, of course, but the facial features are identical. No wonder the late fascist dictator was at great pains to conceal him from the world…and no wonder the king is still knocking himself out trying to keep secret what can’t be kept secret anymore.

Stay tuned, folks, this is going to get mighty hot.

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Music for a Sunday: Lord, I know it’s wrong…

Posted on June 22, 2014 by Sabina Becker

…there you are.

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Wankers of the Week: Bummer Solstice

Posted on June 21, 2014 by Sabina Becker

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Crappy weekend, everyone! And a crappy summer solstice to one and all. It’s the longest day and shortest night of the year, and the wanks came fast and furious this week, folks, so let’s just get right down to ’em, shall we?

1. Andrew Fucking Dandurand. Yay! Another fine ground-stander in Florida stands his ground. This time, luckily, the cops caught him before he could actually follow through on his plan to stand his ground against his ex-girlfriend, her new boyfriend, and her child. If he could only stand his ground against crystal meth, instead…

2. Anthony Fucking Elonis. Yay! Another fucking Nice Guy™ is just trying to be Nice™. Of course, it involves a lot of gaslight, and not-so-veiled threats, as is usual with these Nice Guys™.

3. Charles Jeffrey Fucking Short. Yay! Another fine Christian, just Christianing around. With a sledgehammer. On some religious statuary. In the name of Jeebus, Mary, and the Great Jumpin’ Jehosaphat. Amen!

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4. Richard Fucking Coleman. Yay! Another fine city council member, thinking it’s “fair” to treat a kid with a cute (and literacy-promoting) idea like a lawbreaker. File this under Grownups Are All Poopyheads.

5. Terry Fucking Bradshaw. Stick to football, old man, and leave the Monday morning quarterbacking (and Benghazi-shouting) to the other wingnuts.

6. Mark Fucking Parkinson. Oh look, another Anthony Fucking Weiner. This one with an R after his name. Yay!

7. Rob Fucking Morrison. 121 calls over three days to one estranged wife. Obsess much?

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8. David Fucking Cameron. Christianity can make politicians good? Yes, I can see that. Worked wonders for both you and Tony Fucking “Dodgy Dossier” Blair, hasn’t it?

9. Mike Fucking Coffman. Call that a push-up? I call it humping the fuckin’ floor. Hell, I can do full push-ups better…and I’m a bottom-heavy woman, too!

10. Brent Douglas Fucking Cole. Yay! Another Sovereign Citizen™, sovereigning the hell out of the citizenry with the usual pig-legalese. And standing his ground against the Bureau of Land Management and the police, too!

11. Mehmet Fucking Oz. Yay! Another TV weight-loss scamster gets his ass handed to him by Sen. Claire McCaskill. How many pounds did he lose there, I wonder?

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12. Glenn Fucking Beck. Get ready for the Great Humbling, folks…followed, no doubt, by another Great Disappointment when nothing actually happens. And of course, Biff won’t be the one getting humbled, either…not if he can help it.

13. Dennis Fucking Kneier. Throwing doggy-doo on someone else’s lawn. What are you, a teenage hoodlum? Nope…try a mayor, throwing shit at a political rival. And now you’re out. Ha, ha.

14. David Fucking Garden. Yay! Another God-talker, talking God while he talks rightful homeowners out of their titles and rents their property and keeps the proceeds for himself. Say, isn’t that usury? I’m pretty sure Jesus drove some moneychangers out of the Temple for that…

15. Donald Fucking Trump. So, he says he wouldn’t do Kim Kardashian or J-Lo? Well, that makes two of us. And I wouldn’t do HIM, either. They may have “bad bodies” with all that junk in the trunk, but he’s got terrible hair, what with that small dead animal on his scalp and all.

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16. George Fucking Zimmerman. How DARE the media report accurately that he said “fucking coon” on a 911 tape? How DARE people call a racist spade a fucking shovel, already? Oh, the humanity! At this rate, I’m going to enjoy watching the judge throw out one after the other of his meritless lawsuits. Ha, ha.

17. Rickey Fucking Wagoner. And speaking of racists, how about this one? He stabbed himself to make it look like a bunch of black gang members did it. And even the bible he was carrying in his pocket couldn’t save him from the ridicule of being found out. Ha, ha!

18. Robert Fucking Scoble. Gee, Yogi, why are Glassholes called that? Well, Boo-Boo, it’s because they ARE that. When privacy invasion becomes a way of life for some people, why, they just can’t help it! And no, they’re not smarter than the average bear; they just have more fucking chutzpah.

19. Peter Fucking MacKay. Women are too busy bonding with their kids to apply for top jobs? Um, NO. First off, not all of us have kids; secondly, not all who have kids are their primary caregivers; thirdly, dads are parents too, and bond with kids also; and fourth, women with high-powered careers tend to be in the best position to work out satisfactory child-care arrangements, and often do so without a hitch. But then again, institutional sexism will reach for any justification, however flimsy. And there is no bigger institutional sexist than our own so-called justice minister, who has made a habit of mocking the judiciary with every shitty appointment his boss dictates. PS: Liar, liar. Ha, ha.

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20 and 21. Stephen Fucking Harper and Tony Fucking Abbott. Speaking of Petey’s boss, he’s in Australia now, playing footsies with his equally loathsome local counterpart, denying that climate-change is man-made, and of course, wearing the gaudiest, gawd-awfullest, fugliest shirts imaginable. Yay!

22. Martin Fucking Winters. Hooray, another fine doomsday prepper, preppin’ for doomsday…only it didn’t come and he got cold, wet and hungry waiting for it, and finally “they” trapped him with a burger and some fries. There’s a moral in there somewhere, surely.

23. George Fucking Will. Old man, it’s long past time for you to retire. It’s cranky old wingnuts like YOU who don’t take rape seriously and can’t fucking read. And one paper (sadly, not the WaHoPo) has already dropped your useless, shitty column. Take a hint, already, and SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP!

24. Sean Fucking Hannity. What to do with a Muslim who’s been bullied? Why, bully her some more, and beat her about the head with Benghazi, Benghazi, Ben-fucking-GHAZI! What else would the Baby Jesus do?

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25. Michelle Fucking MacDonald. And speaking of Jesus and what he would do, I’m pretty sure that lying about impaired-driving charges wouldn’t be in there anywhere. Ditto with lying about George Washington, who was only as religious as form required him to be.

26. Joe Fucking Arpaio. He must be a ventriloquist, because how else could he talk out of both sides of his mouth like that? Oh yeah, that must be why he said “foraged” by mistake for forged.

27. Mike Fucking Huckabee. No, Martin Luther King would NOT consider gay marriage a holocaust. Are you forgetting Bayard Rustin, who MLK knew perfectly well to be gay?

28. Rick Fucking Perry. Oh lord, the mothballs must really be getting to him in that closet of his. Now Crotch thinks he’s Jewish!

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29. Scott Fucking Walker. Oh Wisconsin, why didn’t you recall this assbucket when you had the chance? Now you’ve got toxic scandal all over your nice, clean state!

30. Chris Fucking Christie. Meanwhile, in New Jersey, another assbucket is about to slop over, too. But since Standard Oil contaminated the state long ago, will anyone even notice?

31. Cherron Fucking Phillips. Wow. It’s really been quite the week for sovereign shittizens, hasn’t it? Here’s another one. Unfortunately for all of them this really hasn’t been their week, after all.

32. Adam Fucking Richman. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t give a rat’s nuts if you’re famous, or for what. NOTHING excuses calling someone a cunt and telling her to kill herself. Not even your stupid fucking “thinspiration”. Got it?

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33. John Fucking Huppenthal. Say, shouldn’t a chief of public schools be, I dunno, NON-RACIST? IMPARTIAL? And all those other things public officials usually are, instead of a stupid-ass right-wing blog troll with a million fake IDs? And isn’t he a bit old for all this zit-faced-kid-in-mom’s-basement stuff? What a loser. And Arizona? If you re-elect him, the bigger loser will be YOU.

34. Ruben Fucking Diaz. If you’re going to offer lots and lots of free rides to DC, shouldn’t you at least say what for? Oh…a NOM rally against same-sex marriage? Yeah, I can see why no one was biting. Ha, ha.

35. Ralph Fucking Reed. Urinal pucks shaped like a big-eared caricature of your own president? Stay classy, Ralphie. (And try not to whack off over it, ‘kay?)

36. Jace Fucking Connors. Huzzah! #23 is vindicated! I have finally found someone actively coveting sexual-assault victim status! Huzzah! PS: Does it count if he’s only been sent dickpix by a couple of gay guys trolling him so he loses his shit on his cheesy little cable-access internet show that maybe six people have ever watched? Oh well, huzzah anyway!

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37. Joe Fucking Walsh. Oh look, Deadbeat Dad the Teabagger thinks you should be able to say racist slurs on the radio. Unless perchance you’re reading aloud from something like Huckleberry Finn, unabridged, or quoting a racist verbatim (and making it clear that you are only quoting), there is just no way that this shit cannot be offensive. Suck it up, cracker!

38 and 39. Dustin Fucking Rosondich and Xylie Fucking Eshleman. And MOAR fucking “sovereign” jackwagons! How the hell can you be “expatriated” from the US, or a “Non Resident” there, when you still LIVE there? And no, you don’t get to make up your own rules, or your own meanings for words, OR your own hand-drawn licence plates. Drivers’ licences are granted by the STATE, you dumbfucks. You know, that authority that administrates the public roads you so sovereignly drive upon, with taxes paid by citizens? Also, your “sovereign” music sovereignly sucks.

40. Dan Fucking Shapiro. And speaking of jackwagons and stupid shit you don’t get to do, up here in the Great North, we don’t take kindly to having our records of residential school abuse — paid for with OUR taxes — destroyed. Those records may not make anyone comfortable, but they’re there for a reason: to remind us all of what racist fucks used to be in charge here, and to remind us never to elect such racist fucks again…or appoint them to truth and reconciliation commissions, either.

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And finally, to all the fucking Texas idiotesses who toted their guns into a Target store. (To do a little Target shootin’?) Thanks for proving that female gun nuts are just as fixated on the ol’ metal penis compensators as the guys, and no more amenable to common sense, either. I’m sure all the other shoppers felt so much safer with you in there, playing Rambette and belittling their concern for the safety of the store staff, themselves, and oh yeah, THE CHILDREN. Some of whom, incidentally, were yours. And for whom you are setting a piss-poor example of how to be the good guy with a gun.

Also, to Target, for letting this happen, instead of taking a leaf from more responsible businesses. Hope you enjoy the boycott you got coming, assholes.

Good night, and get fucked!

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Quotable: Ellen Page on feminism

Posted on June 20, 2014 by Sabina Becker

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Who’s afraid of the big bad F?

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A sign of the times in Spain

Posted on June 19, 2014 by Sabina Becker

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“Remember, tonight is the Borbón change. At two a.m., you have to turn your clocks back THREE CENTURIES.”

And speaking of setbacks: What kind of coronation dinner is “standing-room-only tapas”? Some kind of cost-saver, no doubt. If you want REAL royal austerity, give Spain back the Republic, already.

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