Bastard's Notebook

Ok, I've been staying off of talking about the oil spill deliberately, as it'd pretty much be preaching to the choir. But here's one good object lesson I saw last week that I've been meaning to post:



Now, this is just a physics demo for the Unreal Engine. So, yes, videogame software, but it's one of the few ways to illustrate it visually- that's 25 thousand oil barrels looks like- not that you're likely to ever see that many in real life at once for any good reason.

Were all those full of oil, that would still only be half of what's pumping out into the gulf of Mexico each day at this point.

Enough said? This is not a fucking political issue, despite the number of people making it out to be. Politicians, corporations, etc: quit trying to assign blame, and start doing more to fix things. Blame is a game for the survivors afterwards.

OK, I've been using flemco as a news service on occassion, mostly because he's good at finding and repostign random stuff that interests me.

These two stories, on the other hand, I just had to share.

First and foremost, this one, which just plain pisses me right the fuck off, and once more raises the question of why the hell aren't we looking at charging both Cheney and Bush as war criminals. Aside from the shitty precedent it'd set.


Then there's this. While I pretty strongly disagree with Christianity (and even moreso, the Evangelicals), and would love to see the whole damn thing go down flaming, the predictions in here, if any of them actually came true, might go a long way towards improving things in general. If, you know, an organized religion actually started realizing that it should have no fucking involvement in politics, much less governance of a body comprised of more people than just the member of that religion. In the meantime though, I'll still be enjoying the bonfire as the GOP/Religious Right continues to implode/sink, dragging in as many of its supporters as it can.

So, just for the record, how much work did Bush get done during his first 48 hours of office?

Also, has anyone yet noticed if any of the recent effects from the latest patch update are helping?

Well, the Palin avatar's been retired, as I'm sure some people are thankful for.

Also, for those wanting to see more of a happy ending, go check out the palisaspresident site.

The nature of the debate has been changed. That is the biggest and most historic fact right there. "Subvert the dominant paradigm"? All the bumper sticker slogans we liked at different times since Reagan? Yeah- they finally happened. Not to a full enough degree yet, but it's started. Let's hope the ball keeps rolling.

And let's also hope that the terms "Fiscal Rebuplican" or "Federal Republican" and "Evangelical Republican" start seeing use. Lots of use. As mutually exclusive terms.

"We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics. And they will only grow louder and more dissonant in the weeks and months to come. We've been asked to pause for a reality check. We've been warned against offering the people of this nation false hope. But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope.

"For when we have faced down impossible odds, when we've been told we're not ready or that we shouldn't try or that we can't, generations of Americans have responded with a simple creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes, we can. Yes, we can. Yes, we can.

"It was a creed written into the founding documents that declared the destiny of a nation: Yes, we can. It was whispered by slaves and abolitionists as they blazed a trail towards freedom through the darkest of nights: Yes, we can. It was sung by immigrants as they struck out from distant shores and pioneers who pushed westward against an unforgiving wilderness: Yes, we can. It was the call of workers who organized, women who reached for the ballot, a president who chose the moon as our new frontier, and a king who took us to the mountaintop and pointed the way to the promised land: Yes, we can, to justice and equality.

"Yes, we can, to opportunity and prosperity. Yes, we can heal this nation. Yes, we can repair this world. Yes, we can."

--Barack Obama, January 8, 2008


"I woke up three hours before I went to bed, startled out of slumber by the staccato chant of gunfire and the whine of thousands of engines revving as cars sought blood in the streets.

I knew it would be bad, but not like this. My cat ripped off half of my thumb, and I had to staunch the flow of blood with a strip torn from my favorite Rush t-shirt (from the Roll the Bones tour). I left the house with a crowbar and a Snickers bar, since I knew that I would need food at some point. My roommate only made it a few dozen feet before a burrowing owl tore into his torso and nested in his liver. I quickly grabbed a gallon of gas and poured it over his twitching corpse, singing myself as the omnipresent lightning ignited his remains. I didn't want the owls to spread.

Now my vote was more important than ever. He would want me to go on.

For some reason, the zombies were faster than I expected, perhaps because of the strange chemicals that assaulted my sinuses. The world obviously found that humanity was forfeit, but why on election day? Well, why not on election day? The madness would compound itself, and make it all the more sweet for the survivors to know that they had made it through.

I don't remember much of the journey to the polling station. I'm not afraid to admit that I may have brained a few unchanged humans among all the zombies, killer chipmunks, and radioactive toads. It's the price we pay for democracy-- sometimes the occasional innocent must face the swing of a mighty crowbar so that the able may vote. I like to think that I killed an equal amount of people from all parties, so that their deaths would not seriously affect the polling.

The line was over a thousand strong, but between the random zombifications, the near-constant rain of bullets, and the writhing obscenities that would reach their hungry tentacles from out of the shadows to clutch and tear at the electorate, I only had to stand in the rain for five hours.

I was handed by ballot by a grimacing visage of death, but it was alright. Death and I have an understanding today. We will vote, we will see, and then we will resume our eternal battle. I was careful not to get any of the ichor and blood that covered me from head to toe onto the ballot, as I know it would affect the scanning machine.

I prepared to vote. . . and my pen broke.

Pitched battles for pen ownership raged all around me, and I wanted nothing to do with them. I was weary, and tired.

I saw that a man next to me had not taken his McCain pin off, according to the rules. So I plunged my fist through his chest and grabbed his black heart. I ripped it out, and used the obsidian blood to mark my choices.

The scanning machine shorted out after I filled out my ballot, but I quickly traced the problem, and ripped out two of my own fillings, chewing the amalgam into the shape of the circuit that had malfunctioned. The machine was saved, and as I left the ragged survivors cheered me.

I got home, took a shower, and watched some Reading Rainbow on PBS because I like LeVar Burton."

-I woke up three hours before I went to bed, startled out of slumber by the staccato chant of gunfire and the whine of thousands of engines revving as cars sought blood in the streets.

I knew it would be bad, but not like this. My cat ripped off half of my thumb, and I had to staunch the flow of blood with a strip torn from my favorite Rush t-shirt (from the Roll the Bones tour). I left the house with a crowbar and a Snickers bar, since I knew that I would need food at some point. My roommate only made it a few dozen feet before a burrowing owl tore into his torso and nested in his liver. I quickly grabbed a gallon of gas and poured it over his twitching corpse, singing myself as the omnipresent lightning ignited his remains. I didn't want the owls to spread.

Now my vote was more important than ever. He would want me to go on.

For some reason, the zombies were faster than I expected, perhaps because of the strange chemicals that assaulted my sinuses. The world obviously found that humanity was forfeit, but why on election day? Well, why not on election day? The madness would compound itself, and make it all the more sweet for the survivors to know that they had made it through.

I don't remember much of the journey to the polling station. I'm not afraid to admit that I may have brained a few unchanged humans among all the zombies, killer chipmunks, and radioactive toads. It's the price we pay for democracy-- sometimes the occasional innocent must face the swing of a mighty crowbar so that the able may vote. I like to think that I killed an equal amount of people from all parties, so that their deaths would not seriously affect the polling.

The line was over a thousand strong, but between the random zombifications, the near-constant rain of bullets, and the writhing obscenities that would reach their hungry tentacles from out of the shadows to clutch and tear at the electorate, I only had to stand in the rain for five hours.

I was handed by ballot by a grimacing visage of death, but it was alright. Death and I have an understanding today. We will vote, we will see, and then we will resume our eternal battle. I was careful not to get any of the ichor and blood that covered me from head to toe onto the ballot, as I know it would affect the scanning machine.

I prepared to vote. . . and my pen broke.

Pitched battles for pen ownership raged all around me, and I wanted nothing to do with them. I was weary, and tired.

I saw that a man next to me had not taken his McCain pin off, according to the rules. So I plunged my fist through his chest and grabbed his black heart. I ripped it out, and used the obsidian blood to mark my choices.

The scanning machine shorted out after I filled out my ballot, but I quickly traced the problem, and ripped out two of my own fillings, chewing the amalgam into the shape of the circuit that had malfunctioned. The machine was saved, and as I left the ragged survivors cheered me.

I got home, took a shower, and watched some Reading Rainbow on PBS because I like LeVar Burton.

-Ganked from a comment thread on Fark.

I'm actually going to go and gank one from jenga.



And the truly best part of it:

"...Here's what I'm saying to you--if you don't vote, you're a moron. I know what you're saying--"well, not voting is a vote." No, it isn't. Not voting is just being stupid.

Voting is not sexy, voting is not hep, it's not fashionable, it's not a movie, it's not a video game, all the kids ain't doin' it. Frankly, voting is a pain in the ass, but here's a word, look it up, it is your DUTY to vote.

The foundation in this democracy is based on free people making free choices, so, young people, if you can't take your hand out of your Cheetos bag long enough to fill out a form, then you can't complain when we end up with President Sanjaya.

Listen, I'm an American. This country, as it is, at war, right now--Americans in foreign lands wearing uniforms representing this country are losing their lives. Americans here in this country are losing their homes. We have two patriotic candidates, right? They both love this country, they have different ideas about what to do with it. Learn about them, read about them, question them, listen to them. Then, on election day, exercise your sacred right as an American, and listen to yourself."

Even in this city, where getting to a polling location is an absolute BITCH, it's pretty easy to get set up on absentee ballots, or other such things. And sometimes life gets in the way as well. That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about supposedly making a political statement by not voting. Deliberately choosing to not vote does not send a message, except that you don't fucking care- you can't be bothered to get off your ass, do a little reading, and maybe go hit a voting booth. Or better yet- get an absentee ballot, where you've got two weeks to sit back and think things over, and then all you have to do is walk it to the fucking mailbox.

And third-party voters? I respect your dedication, your need to be a special little snowflake voting for your own best interests, your desire to make your voice heard even as it's utterly overwhelmed by the rest of the bi-partisan system.You have a capability to take a moral beating, and if you keep voting that way year after year, I'll ultimately have to accuse you lot of being political masochists. That said- if your 2% of the overall voting bloc acts as enough of a split to allow a MCCain/Palin win in the election, I am going to figure out a way to exact vengeance on every last one of you. Making your point is one thing- making the entire rest of the nation and world suffer under that kind of misrule for another 4+ years just so you can have your point and eat it too? Congratulations- you've fucked all of us.

You want to really support multi-party politics? Start pushing for more changes to the playing field itself, in order to even out the divide between the Big Two Parties and everyone else. In the meantime, if the GOP suffers a big enough loss this year, we're looking at the chances of a serious schism in the party. Voting to make sure the GOP loses by a large margin might be a good idea. That is the last comment I am going to make on how you personally should vote.

Ok, rant's getting off-track. Campaign recap post still in the wings somewhere. done for now though.

I post this, with no commentary whatsoever, except that its turned into a slow day here, and I needed to work more on my photoshop skills.

( That said.... )

nihil_duce, thank you for this wonderful training montage for Joe Biden. I laughed until I shat myself.

Oh, now this just pisses me right the fuck off.

Seriously, Republicans- you can't think of a better tactic? Like, maybe, I don't know, serving the interests of the voters, rather than doing your best to try and deny them their vote?