Never Cry Wolf (just throw strychnine)

This…is unbefuckinglievable. This is the sort of shit that would have been done 50 years ago. It’s also the sort of shit Canada isn’t supposed to be doing anymore. And yet, this is happening right now, and for the worst of all conceivable reasons:

Late last week, internal documents went public showing Canada is fretting over its sullied reputation for unfettered fossil fuel development, while resorting to poisoning wolves rather than fixing the problem. NWF released a paper today showing tar sands, oil and gas development in Canada is contributing to the decline in caribou herds. Rather than improve environmental practices to protect and restore caribou habitat, Canadian wildlife officials are poisoning wolves with strychnine-laced bait. The news comes as Alberta and Canadian officials scramble to address environmental monitoring failures that are wreaking havoc up north.

The highly controversial Keystone XL pipeline proposal would move this Canadian dirty oil through the heartland of the U.S. to export, making the U.S. complicit in causing excruciating wildlife culling.

Strychnine progresses painfully from muscle spasms to convulsions to suffocation over a period of hours. The NWF paper says the poison will also put at risk animals like raptors, wolverines and cougars that eat the poisoned bait or scavenge on the carcasses of poisoned wildlife.

Great. So we’re now just poisoning all carnivores and scavengers indiscriminately. And this is for what? So that tar-sands development can go ahead unimpeded. And so a bunch of Harpo’s cronies down in Texas can get their damn dirty oil.

But what bugs me most is the stinking hypocrisy of it all. It’s not like the Harper Government™ seriously gives a rat’s ass for caribou. Unless, of course, that rat’s ass is loaded with nasty poison that does nasty things, and is actually banned in its liquid form for that very reason:

Strychnine is an extremely toxic alkoloid that results in muscular convulsions and eventually leads to death through asphyxia or exhaustion.

Strychnine was banned by the Canadian Federal Government in 1993 due to the devastating effects it had on non-target animals. Gophers were not the only animals to ingest the substance; birds, waterfowl, foxes, rabbits, and even dogs and cats suffered the horrible fate of being poisoned by Strychnine. Gophers that were killed by the poison were often consumed by predators such as raptors, coyotes, and foxes, poisoning them as well.

Of course, it’s easier in the short term to strychnine a bunch of critters (be it ground squirrels, wolves or what have you) than it is to develop long-term strategies for safe, successful coexistence. And those in charge of the tar sands aren’t thinking in the long term at all, except maybe how to maximize their profits until the dirty oil runs out, while maintaining that squeaky-clean image they don’t deserve. Meaning, the animals are the ones that will bear the brunt of their short-sightedness, and their selfishness.

We’re always blaming the wolf. It’s an easy scapegoat, thanks to its fearsome nature, which we like to forget is the genetic basis for every domestic dog that ever lived. So of course, to blame it for the decline of the caribou — a decline for which we humans are in fact the real culprit — is nothing new. We went through all this 50 years ago!

I can only imagine what Farley Mowat would say.

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Posted in Barreling Right Along, Canadian Counterpunch, Environmentally Ill, If You REALLY Care, Isn't It Ironic?, Isn't That Illegal?, The United States of Amnesia | 1 Comment

Music for a Sunday: A movie or a measure

For some reason, this song always feels right to me in the dead of winter:

Dreaming is free.

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Wankers of the Week: Corporate welfare bums (and other asses deserving to be kicked)

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Crappy weekend, everyone! Oh, what a week it’s been…me under the weather, and yet the wanks and the wanking wankers who wank them just keep on coming. This week’s list is a little abbreviated as a result of my miserable, rotten, mostly-head cold, but as you can see, it’s still jam-packed with teh fugly. And here it comes, in no particular order…

1. Stephen Fucking Harper. Never fuck with retirees…or those on the verge of retirement. Unless you’re a tyrannical dictator who doesn’t care about his party’s traditional voting base anymore, in which case fuck ’em before they fuck you. And hope they all die before your term is up. Eh, Harpo? PS: If the CBC has to disclose its salaries, how about yours, you fucking hypocrite?

2. Jud Fucking McMillin. How very like a Repug. Order drug testing for poor people on welfare, but then withdraw the bill when it’s amended to include the REAL bums living off the public purse…namely, legislators cruel and shitty enough to humiliate welfare recipients with mandatory drug testing. If you’re not willing to pee in a cup yourself, don’t even start this shit. Everyone knows that welfare pittances won’t pay off a drug dealer, anyway. Nor will they address the REAL drug problem in North America: Politicians hooked on corporate cash…and bad ideas.

3. Charles Fucking Murray. Turning your guns on poor whites, blaming progressive policies and women not marrying, doesn’t do anything about poverty. And it hardly lessens your image as a fucking bigot, in any case. (You’re still a racist, too.)

4. Eugene Fucking Foster. Slut-shaming is disgusting enough in its own right. But what the hell was he doing snooping on his girlfriend’s daughter’s cellphone in the first place, never mind sending copies of a nude picture of the girl he’d found on it to some 40 contacts on her phone list? Can we please get a snoop-shame thing going here?

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5. Newt Fucking Gingrich. Just like a typical right-winger, he’s “do as I say, not as I do” all the way. He thinks kids should work their way through college, but did he? NOOOOOOOOOOO! PS: Ha, ha.

6. Peter Fucking Van Loan. Liar, liar, pants on fire. There was NO “enthusiastic support” for pension cuts during last May’s election. Nobody, not even the most rabid wingnuts I’ve seen, voted for that, because they knew it would mean losing out on their own old age security. And what is this “options” bullshit? I see nothing optional going on here, only some more typically unpopular Tory policy being crammed willy-nilly down our throats…as usual. We are being FORCED to accept cuts, not being given a “choice”. But isn’t that just so libertarian? They’re forcing us to do things their way, rather than doing things OUR way as real elected politicians should. Freedom for whom, again? PS: Ha, ha.

7. John Fucking Baird. Oh, give it a rest, Squealer. Everybody knows that the so-called “Iran threat” is, at best, overblown. More likely, it is complete bullshit. The real threat, the elephant in the room, is Israel with its treaty-exempt nukes. You know it, I know it. And if you don’t know it, you’re not competent to be in public office.

8. Reince Fucking Priebus. Who? you ask. Oh, you know…that little nobody of a Repug who has a way with bad similes.

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9. Randall Fucking Terry. If ever there was anyone who made me want to just put a padlocked ball gag on all men who ever talk about restricting abortion, it’s him. Fortunately, his feto-porn ads won’t be seen in all markets while the Super Bowl is on. (They shouldn’t be seen anywhere, but some hick towns just have no fucking taste. And no concern for the children who might be scared shitless after seeing THAT on TV.)

10. Joel Fucking Bruss. Friends don’t let friends drink and drive…a Zamboni.

11. Joel Fucking Oliver. Can’t answer simple questions. Can’t do simple math. Can’t simply talk without getting all angry and pointy. Can someone please tell me why Harpo made him Minister of the Environment, again?

12. Karen Fucking Handel. Ever wonder why women are running in droves…AWAY from the Susan G. Komen Foundation, which supposedly supports breast-cancer research, screening, and “for the Cure” events? This crazy anti-choice woman is a major reason why. Defunding Planned Parenthood, which among other things, does breast-cancer screening? NOT SMART. Now all the former Komen contributors’ cash is going directly to PP, and you can be sure they don’t care if it’s funding abortion or birth control for undeserving sluts, or what have you, as long as it’s saving women’s lives. Some perspective would be in order for the ultra-merchy Komen Foundation, yes?

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PS: If you’re on Facebook, you might like this page. And if you tumble, you might want to tumble on this.

13. David Fucking Vitter. If you’re wondering who talked the Komen Foundation into that boneheaded move, get a load of the diaper-assed poonhound from Louisiana. He’s bragging of it and claiming the credit. At this rate, their loss will be to his credit, for sure. The anti-Komen backlash has unleashed a huge moneybomb on Planned Parenthood, such that the Komen Foundation’s formerly fat contribution now looks like chickenfeed. Nice going, Diapers! You da man. PS: Ha, ha.

14. Nancy Fucking Brinker. Yeah, lady, how do you like your shitstorm now? You’re not just losing donors, you’re losing PEOPLE. This is what you get for tacking hard to starboard. And there is no “regrettably mischaracterized” about it. So spare us the pious bullshit and shut the fuck up. PS: No, this isn’t going to go away any time soon. Also: ha, ha! PPS: Shameless media damage control ploy FAIL. PPPS: Liar, liar, pants on FIRE!

15. Cliff Fucking Stearns. Diapers may be eager to take credit for the Komen Foundation’s major, MAJOR boner, but this one’s the real Antichrist behind the scenes. He and Patwa are quite open about their efforts to wreck Planned Parenthood. As are James O’Fucking Keefe and Lie-là Fucking Rose.

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(Yes, that says “Help us run over poor women on our way to the bank”. The site was hacked. Very nicely played!)

16. Rick Fucking Santorum. And in other corporatist-“pro-lifer”-who-really-doesn’t-give-a-shit-for-the-living news, Icky Ricky just showed his true colors. He told the mother of a child with a rare genetic disorder not to complain about the million-dollar headache her child’s medication expenses had become. And he did it making the completely offensive comparison of life-saving medicine to a comparatively frivolous one-time buy, namely the iPad. This after his own daughter, who also has a rare genetic disorder, just barely survived a serious illness. A recovery which, of course, he termed “miraculous”. His chutzpah truly knows no bounds.

17. Bill O’Fucking Reilly. He took on Holland…and LOST. This comes as a surprise to precisely no one.

18. Mitt Fucking Romney. Nice to see that he took his glitterbombing in such good humor. But he’s full of shit about the confetti bit. And what’s this about not being very concerned about the poor? Ohhhhh, that’ll cost you, Mittens. About 99% of the vote. See, that’s why I said you were full of shit! You’re not going anywhere near the White House — except as a visitor, like anyone else.

19. Pierre-Hugues Fucking Boisvenu. Who? I never heard of him till now, but apparently he’s one of Harpo’s many, many rubber-stamping senate packings, er, appointees. And he has some knee-jerk, er, novel ideas of how to free up prison cells for the massive influx the SupposiTory omnibus crime bill will create. I think it’s a brilliant plan, myself…and am just wondering how we can apply it to the SupposiTories ahead of everyone else. You know, to free up some room in the suddenly overcrowded Upper Chamber for some REAL Sober Second Thinkers (elected, and not cronies)?

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PS: Ha, ha.

20. Shadrack Fucking McGill. Politicians — uh, like him? — “deserve” vast salaries (allegedly to keep them incorruptible, because look how well that’s worked so far!), but teachers have to scrape by on food stamps because they have a “calling”. Where the fuck in the bible does it say that? Because I don’t seem to recall that passage. What I do recall is Jesus saying something to the effect of “give up your worldly goods, and follow me”. But he wasn’t saying it to teachers; he said it to rich people. I also recall him calling the conservative politicians out as Pharisees, hypocrites and whited sepulchres.

21. Ron Fucking Paul. And speaking of whited sepulchres, how do you like your libertarian Nazis? Not that this came as any great surprise to me, after weeks of hearing about his racist newsletters defending the “individual right” to be a fucking bigot, but still: Bwahahahaha. PS: WTF is THIS? A fascist invasion of a mostly-black Caribbean country? And ol’ Ron implicated in it up to the beady little eyeballs? Oh, this is too funny.

22. Neal Fucking Boortz. And in other fascist-libertarian news, look who’s projecting his inner self-identity on the poor. Actually, Neal is jock itch. Which makes him entirely unfit to lick toenail fungus’s boots.

23. Ari Fucking Fleischer. Well holy fucking shit, Ari the Liar didn’t go away when BushCo did! Instead, BushCo’s Baghdad Bob went deep-stealth, only to resurface first as a media flack for a certain sexually disgraced golfer, and later as a “konsultant” to the SupposiTory Harper Government™, and finally, as an engineer to the Komen Katastrophe. In all cases, he did a lousy job, being the transparent liar that he invariably is. So, to recap: He fucked up under Dubya, under Tiger Fucking Woods, under Harpo, blah blah, and now, under the Fucking Susan G. Komen Foundation, too. Ari, in short, is to risible right-wing crapaganda what a certain Mary was to typhoid.

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And finally, to the Fucking Caterpillar Corporation. And the Harper Government™ that let these Yankee noodles get away with stealing our taxpayer dollars (and yes, cutting corporate taxes counts, because one way or another, it forces the Little Guy to pay for what the Big Bidness Fat Cats won’t), dicking hard-working people out of jobs, and then skipping the fucking country. I always did hate that corporation for its sexist fucking calendars. Now I’ve got one more thing to loathe and despise about them, and that’s how they’re helping the Cons to leave my home and native land…a WASTEland. And I’m supposed to be proud to live here? At this rate, the only thing I’ve got left to be proud of is the Medicare program Tommy Douglas left us. And even that is probably going to get slashed and burned by Harpo to appease his fucking corporate cronies, such as, you guessed it, the Fucking Caterpillar Corporation. Or whatever big US sick-care corporations are just chomping at the NAFTA bit to get let in and run hog-wild, denying us needed services as the whim (and the greed) strikes them. Thanks to the Komen Kerfuffle, we all saw how well THAT is working out. If that ever happens here, I’m going to start making plans in earnest to move to Venezuela. Thank heaven I’ve taken the trouble to learn Spanish and get acquainted with the political actualities of the land. I’m sure I’ll have no trouble acclimatizing to the warmer weather, either.

Good night, and get fucked!

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Posted in Wankers of the Week | 3 Comments

I don’t think this will cure my cold.

Yes, kiddies, your auntie Bina is still under the weather. But since laughter is supposed to be the best medicine, let’s take the Rick Mercer cure, shall we?

Oof. Just made myself cough. Guess I’m not cured after all! But it does make me feel better to know that Peter Fucking Kent and Ezra Fucking Levant are getting what’s coming to them. And there’s no better man than Rick to give it to ’em…GOOD.

(Video, h/t The Regina Mom.)

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Posted in Barreling Right Along, Canadian Counterpunch, Crapagandarati, Environmentally Ill, Karma 1, Dogma 0, She Blinded Me With Science | Comments Off on I don’t think this will cure my cold.

Festive Left Friday Blogging: Lucky 13

It’s 13 years now since Chavecito was sworn in as president of Venezuela. And, contrary to all the right-wing lamestream media naysayers up here, he’s not dead yet, and neither is Venezuelan democracy, which is going stronger than ever.

And of course, that was the plan 13 years ago yesterday, when Chavecito swore on the “moribund” constitution of 1961, as he called it, to give the country the constitution and participatory democracy it deserved. Since then, not only has that plan prospered in Venezuela, it’s caught on like a wildfire throughout Latin America and the Caribbean, with the ALBA alliance, CELAC and Mercosur all shaking their feet to the Bolivarian beat. Cuba is now out of the cold (or Cold War isolation, if you will), and the only tyranny in sight is that of a good example. Education and access to healthcare are up; poverty is way, way down. Illiteracy is wiped out, and childhood malnutrition is becoming an endangered species. International co-operation is in vogue between Latin American countries, and the only ones not happy are the gringos and their local lackeys. Workers are drafting their own labor laws, instead of letting Washington and multinationals dictate them. That’s something that’s never happened there before, and it puts the lie to the common media quackings about how 21st Century Socialism is just old 20th century Soviet communism repackaged.

Yes, it’s been a lucky 13 years for Venezuela, and it looks like they’re in for a good many more. In that time, the Revolution can only solidify. As it stands, both inside and outside disruptors have had zero luck in dislodging it. And while that’s not Chavecito’s doing alone, it all couldn’t have happened without him as its unifying leader.

¡Viva Venezuela, y VIVA CHÁVEZ CARAJO!

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Happy Groundhog Day!

Sure would be funny if all the local weather-‘hogs went on strike like this, eh? After all, this is their hibernation time.

As for me, I’m celebrating Brigid today. Blessed be!

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No more fucking Pink Things

I am the daughter of a breast cancer survivor. And I have just sworn never again to buy another “Pink for the Cure” (or whatever they call it) thing.

Not that I don’t love my pink long-sleeved Columbia t-shirt, or my pink lipsticks (all 11 of ’em), but this whole damn pink thing has got to end. Starting with that most odiously merchandise-heavy of Pink Things, the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation.

Yes, that’s right, you heard me. No more Komen Krap. No more of those lovely but insanely overpriced Lilly Pulitzer silk scarves. (Shameful confession: yes, I have one. And it cost me a bundle to get it shipped to Canada.) No more nothin’ from Susan G. Komen. Why?

Because the Komen Foundation doesn’t support women.

Yes, you read that right.

The Komen Foundation decided to withdraw funding from Planned Parenthood, just because the latter happens to provide abortions. Shocker — Planned Parenthood actually fully encompasses just what their name says! Oh noes! It lets women decide when and whether they want to be pregnant! Horrors!

And, for many women in the US who can’t afford anything else, Planned Parenthood actually happens to be their go-to place for not only birth control and abortions, but also cancer testing. Breast and cervical cancer, among others. You can get mammograms and Pap smears there. Shocker!

So when I heard that the incredibly rich, elitist, Republican-connected Komen Foundation had suddenly decided not to go on supporting PP, that was when I saw red. And said to hell with all that pink. After all, what good was the pink shit really doing? Was it raising awareness of breast cancer?

Kinda sorta…the Komen Foundation has been very diligent about getting the message out to buy, buy, buy “for the Cure”. They sure do talk a lot about breast cancer, yup. But not so much on ways to prevent it. The Komen Foundation has been suspiciously mum about Bisphenol A, for instance — a compound found in many plastics, and which has been proven to cause cancers, including those of the breast. Maybe that’s because a lot of their corporate “partners” happen to manufacture products laced with that same carcinogenic compound. Same goes for parabens, which are found in a lot of “For the Cure” pink cosmetics.

And then there’s the way the Komen Foundation has hijacked the whole notion of a search for cancer cures. They even sue smaller cancer charities who hold fundraisers “for the Cure”, leading to the impression that they have somehow wrested ownership of those common English words all to themselves. They actually waste their donors’ lovingly given monies on this.

In fact, I have to ask myself if they really care about finding a cure at all. Or if they’re not just about using us women, our boundless good intentions, our ardent desire to see an end to cancer, our love of our female friends and family members, even our fondness for all things pink, to move product. What a repulsive notion that is, eh? But it’s true: Pink-for-the-Cure has become a highly profitable industry unto itself, and there’s no rule that all proceeds have to go to cancer research, prevention or awareness. Just slap that ol’ pink ribbon on your stuff, and watch it fly off the store shelves, snapped up by bravely smiling women with heart-wrenching stories of loved ones who have survived breast cancer.

Or not.

No, there’s no cure for breast cancer yet, as I found out the hard way from talking with my mom. They talk about five- and ten-year survival rates, and remissions, but not cures. Unless you die from something else after a suitably long time, you can never really be pronounced Cured of Cancer.

And that’s what kills me. All this pink junk For the Cure, and where is the fucking Cure? I don’t see one, do you?

In fact, I don’t even see more than a half-hearted commitment on the part of Komen’s corporate partners to get rid of SOME of the carcinogens in their pink cancer merchandise. Not all. Just SOME.

SOME isn’t good enough.

But that’s just the way it is with rich organizations run by right-wingers, isn’t it? At the end of the day, it’s less about doing good than it is about selling “feel-good”. A woman may be dying painfully of breast cancer that’s metastasized to her lungs, her bones, her brain, but hey! Let’s all buy a pink teddybear, or silk scarf, or rhinestoned ribbon pin, or some other pink gimcrack-for-the-Cure, and that will make it all better!

Or we can be honest with ourselves and vow to stop buying those oh-so-guilt-trippy Pink Things, and focus instead on the search for real answers. And donate to organizations that don’t withdraw funding just to slut-shame women for making “wrong” choices. And do what we can by way of prevention. Avoid Bisphenol A. Avoid weedkillers that are known to cause cancer. (Yes, ladies, that Round-Up you sprayed on your dandelions last summer could be quietly killing you. Did it come with a pink ribbon on the label, I wonder?)

In short, we could just exercise our consumer clout in new and imaginative ways. We can boycott the Komen Foundation and its partners. We can and must clean up our environment, and demand better of the personal-care and household products we use. And we can and must hold cancer charities’ feet to the fire when it comes to how our money is spent.

After all, that Pink Shit won’t cure us of anything, except maybe a feeling of fullness about the wallet.

No more fucking Pink Things from now on.

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Posted in Confessions of a Bad German, Environmentally Ill, Fetus Fetishists, If You REALLY Care, Isn't It Ironic?, Law-Law Land, She Blinded Me With Science, Uppity Wimmin | 4 Comments

Pole dancing: for aficionados, it’s serious stuff

Jenyne Butterfly shows what a world-champion pole dancer looks like. No platforms, no sequins, no lingerie, no raunch; just really good (and seriously sexy!) stuff.

Yesterday, as part of my ongoing informal research into the world of a Mexican book I’m translating, I posted some videos of pole dancers in action. Apparently I’m not the only one impressed with the amount of effort and artistry the women put into it. The guys who frequent the bars where these dancers perform are like soccer hooligans in their dedication to the art, and they get pissed off when it doesn’t seem to get the respect it deserves from bar owners. Last year, things got to the point where a Mexican blog devoted to table dancing put out this call to arms:

How’s it going, dearest Tablefans, I’m writing with some inconformities with my adorable dancers, I’m upset now that on these latest visits to the “table”, we’ve run into lots of girls who are no longer using the pole for their performance, this is simply unacceptable, now they only grab onto it as if it were some vile post to lean on, some don’t even grab onto it at all, and the worst of all is that in some places there isn’t even a pole, what will happen to those marvellous movements in which they climb and hang suspended only by the strength of their legs, their abdomen, those impressive spins they do, the way things are going now we’ll only see those movements in fashionable fitness classes.

For this reason I want to invite all the table-dance bars to put more effort into their contracts or their support for the dancers, so there are lots of places where they can learn those movements, we the table-dance guide offer ourselves to help in the recruitment and selection of the dancers (we’re not fools you know).

But we’re doing it out of the love we have for the “tables”, in truth everything is an art, no matter if it’s painting, photography, cinema, etc., when a girl does a true and incredible performance she drives us crazy and makes us want to spend all our money on private dances, not to mention that we remember her moves for a long time, it affects us just like a masterpiece.

We of the Table-Dance Guide commit ourselves to keep looking for and spreading this marvellous art, we won’t rest until they get the recognition they deserve, we ask for your help dear table-fans, with your help it will be much easier, keep reading us.

Translation mine. Run-on sentences and comma splicing as in original.

Yes, that’s right…they actually go to see the dancing, and they’re not satisfied to simply see a girl lackadaisically dragging her ass around the pole without really using the thing (or just wagging it on a pole-less stage, worse luck).

That’s not to say they don’t drop a lot of cash in the back room of these brothel-like joints (which is what the owners are no doubt counting on them to do); they want to be given a reason, an incentive if you will, to go there, besides the obvious. Hence the emphasis on the “art of the pole”.

A good performance on the pole is more thrilling to watch than the rote bump-and-grid that any crack-addicted unfortunate can do (and a great many do). That stands to reason. And if, as this blogger asserts, guys are willing to fork out more cash for a good pole dance than they would have been otherwise, one would hope that the bar owners don’t just go on cheaping out, but give the girls a break, and hire some real talent.

After all, a lot of those ladies have families to support, and not just drug habits.

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Posted in Found in Translation, Mexican Standoffs, Uppity Wimmin | 4 Comments

FUX Snooze gets pwned by Muppets

And as usual, Miss Piggy gets the best lines.

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Posted in Crapagandarati, Environmentally Ill, Filthy Stinking Rich, Isn't It Ironic?, Karma 1, Dogma 0, Schadenfreude | Comments Off on FUX Snooze gets pwned by Muppets

The art of the WHAT?

As I prepare to get cracking on my first-ever book-length Spanish-to-English translation (yes, congratulate me, kiddies, your auntie is going pro!), I found some videos while looking up an idiomatic phrase that just didn’t appear in either my Streetwise Spanish guide OR my gran diccionario. These illustrate exactly what I’ll be dealing with in the days and weeks to come. And they’re a timely reminder, for me, that there are a lot of arts out there. Translation is one; this is another. And the gutsy women who do it this well are incredible to watch. Enjoy!

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Posted in Artsy-Fartsy Culture Stuff, Found in Translation, Uppity Wimmin, Writer Lady Sings the Blues | 3 Comments