I do my best Sarah Palin

This picture was taken way before Palin was ever picked as McCain’s running mate, back when my hair was darker too:

glancing up from my Tolkien and toward Russia
glancing up from my Tolkien and toward Russia

I don’t think it’s very similar at all, but I’ve been using it on LJ, and two separate comments to the tune of “omigod is that, like, a Palin Halloween-themed userpic” have appeared. Hmmm. And here I was still agonizing between going as Jane Sixpack or Bill O’Reilly in “WE’LL DO IT LIVE” mode (I’ve been in that kind of mood).

Well, well, a reporter is attacked at a McCain-Palin rally in my very own North Carolina

At Elon, no less. For all I know, the asshole in question used to be my neighbour. The same sort who’d yell “go back to Russia!” after I resisted a boozy, grabby attempt at so-called flirting.

Am I surprised that this happened in my state? Not really. But I am dismayed.

North Carolina was and is a great place to live. It is routinely portrayed by outsiders as this terrifying no-go zone, when it is in fact a diverse environment, with all sorts of good, and bad, and plain fascinating.

Having said that, I have doubt that the McCain-Palin hate-fest is empowering and enabling the bad.

This thuggish contempt of media should give us all pause.

(And, for the record, no, I don’t think the attacker’s weight should have anything to do with the discussion, though I understand the impulse to bite back at him in a way that humiliates him. If that was me being kicked, I probably would have thought something very similar.)

Lipstick and Lynch Mobs

… Is my take on the ungodly mess that the McCain campaign is right now. I don’t really write about U.S. politics for GlobalComment anymore, but this evil BS in the form of “kill him!” (in reference to Obama) and “sit down, boy!” (in reference to a black press member) and how it has gone absolutely unchallenged by the train-wreck candidates got me so worked up that I was up at 5 a.m. punching this stuff out. I didn’t even need a cup of coffee, which pretty much means that this was a superhero act on my part, and that I will just sit around and wait for my own franchise to grow up around me.

My absentee ballot could not have come at a better time.

Screw this KKK crap.

Paglia’s Crush, Palin; Paglia’s Ex, Feminism

Good ol’ Camille Paglia! That fearless contrarian, ready to make fellow liberals quake in their Birkenstocks at a moment’s notice!

Well, maybe. I’ve yet to meet a single liberal who consistently takes Paglia seriously, but, you know, just because we’ve never seen the Loch Ness Monster doesn’t mean it’s not out there.

Paglia trumpets her approval of any politician or entertainer who makes her hot, then attempts to pass off her crushes as profound commentary on the state of contemporary society. I have no problem with pointing out that a particular public figure is sexxxay – I do it all the time – but Paglia’s worship of Palin’s persona wavers between the ridiculous and the downright creepy.

It’s a shtick that ensures people will pay attention to Paglia, but it also makes Paglia the equivalent of the guy who hangs out in public places and keeps trying new tactics to recruit you into his cult. You pay attention to him, because you’re forced to. Also, he is fascinating in that bizarre, “is he going to bite a chicken’s head off next?” kind of way.

I was sure that Paglia was going to go wild for Sarah Palin’s cheekbones, but figured it would be interesting to see how much panting she could squeeze into a monthly column, hence subjecting myself to lines like: “…Palin has made the biggest step forward in reshaping the persona of female authority since Madonna danced her dominatrix way through the shattered puritan barricades of the feminist establishment.”

I did wonder: does Paglia still write these columns, or do they get a bot to do it? Take Madonna, add a flavour of the month, add the word “fierce” and its synonyms, drop in a mention of “the puritan feminists” or some variation on thereof, toss in the obligatory reference to Hillary Clinton as Satan, another reference to “masculinity” and “MY BOOK! READ MY BOOK!” and stir for half an hour. Voila. Pre-cooked Paglia.

Oh, but I am being unfair. For her last two columns, Paglia has been hammering away at a new attempt at controversy: Continue reading “Paglia’s Crush, Palin; Paglia’s Ex, Feminism”