Under The Wagon

Things I figured out less than a third of the way into each of the Earthsea books

Earthsea 1 :  Yeah, the dark force he’s chasing is HIMSELF the whole time.

Earthsea 2:  Ged’s gonna show up halfway through to get that fucking ring back.

Earthsea 3:  He’s the king.  Not a big secret.  We get it.

Earthsea 4: She’s a dragon.

Earthsea Dragonfly:  She’s a dragon, too.  Also, guy wizards are dicks.

Earthsea 5:  Haven’t gotten to it yet…but based purely on LeGuin’s inability to create any sort of surprise ending, I’m guessing a female character, who may or may not be a dragon, will end up becoming Archmage of Atuan only after proving herself to a bunch of wizards who are dicks.  Possibly involving the guy who SHOCKINGLY turned out to be king.

Did I get it right?  Close?

I’ve read some short story collections from Ursula K. LeGuin over the years, and generally enjoyed them (especially the freaky gender-bending sexy ones).  Recently a kindly benefactor loaded Jay and me up with a METRIC SHIT TON of science fiction books, and I finally had the opportunity to read some of the longer series I’d avoided in the past.  Now I love sci-fi and fantasy, but I’m also a cheap bastard who cringes in front of a bookstore shelf when I realize if I actually like the book I’m considering getting, I’ll still have to buy 20 more.  So a free set of the critically acclaimed Earthsea Chronicles?  Sign me up!  Though I quickly found that it doesn’t take long in any of the books before you’re shouting at the characters like my mother at a murder-mystery dinner theater - “It was THAT guy!  The one with the bloody knife in his hand!  He’s the killer!”

Of course, I’m gonna feel like a fool if the whole Earthsea Chronicles were supposed to be a Harry Potter type thing.  You know, “written for children, but adults can enjoy them too.”  Or otherwise intentionally “not too challenging, or involving large words and plot twists that aren’t completely apparent after reading the first 10 pages.”  Perhaps written for science fiction fans who have recently experienced catastrophic head trauma?  Does the series come in a pop-up version as well?

 But hey, for all my bitching, I obviously read the fucking things.  And my petty sniping aside, I know I’ll continue reading LeGuin.

 After all, I really do love those ones with the 4-way bisexual marriages and the hermaphrodite aliens that live in a sex house once a month.  That’s some good shit right there.

Tags: Essays, Manifestos, & Unsolicited Opinions // 2 Comments »

Former Prison Colony to Institute National Internet Filter

It’s not that I love child rape, or pictures of child rape, or swapping pictures of child rape with like-minded child rape enthusiasts.*  I tend to think child rapists would benefit from the intervention of government officials who could possibly convince them to cut back on all the child raping, or failing that, at least keep them away from places where children are likely to be found, and thus available to be raped.  I nominate “the most uncomfortable level of hell”as an excellent place to keep these folk away from said rapeable children.

Now that we’ve got that out of the way… 

While I expect China to crack down on petty things like freedom of information and civil rights (c’mon, they’re fucking CHINA), I was pretty surprised to hear about widespread censorship coming from Australia - what with its reputation for rowdy, Foster-fueled shenanigans, Kangaroo-based athletics, and predilection for butt-sex.***

When Left4Dead2 came out Australia got all squeamish about the effect of your standard chainsaw on your regulation Zombie, surprising for a country that invented crocodile-head-stabbing.  Perhaps the Australian outback is populated by badass REAL MEN  who do awesome things with their BARE HANDS - but they’re sure as hell governed by the type of shrieking “Who will think of the CHILDREN???” political hacks that make Tipper Gore moist in her PMRC pantsuit.

Here’s the problem when government tries to treat its adult constituents like children: They’re treating adults like children.  In Australia, no matter your age, psychological profile, or the amount of Fosters you can put away in a single weekend (if you can still count the cans, you’re doing it wrong), it’s illegal to buy a game that wouldn’t be suitable for a 15 year old. The Australian rating system doesn’t allow for anything higher than that for video games. Think about that for a minute.  Perfectly normal, tax-paying, god-fearing, ass-fucking 18-100+ year old Australians are not allowed to choose what games they buy or play (and soon, what internet sites to visit) unless it is something that would not be offensive or “corrupting” to anyone under the age of 15.

Internet filters can be useful when used by parents, or even your boss (this site is banned by many a fine employer, preventing you from wasting valuable work time on my potty-mouthed ways, and good for them).  Parents and employers - presumably (hopefully) ADULTS - should have a choice in what is allowed at their home and workplace.  But governments wholesale blocking anything “they” consider obscene or potentially criminal for the entire population?  No.  NO.  We elect our representatives to represent us, not to be our nannies, or our mothers, or our conscience.

Here’s the big problem with internet filters - My incessant references to child rape in this rant (not to mention my accusations that all Australians are sobbing, prissy-panted sodomites) should have any prospective Aussie web filters blocking this site toot sweet.  But rape counseling websites say “child rape” too.  So do news sites like the Associated Press.  So do web forums that really hate Michael Bay.  And so will the 100 actual child raping pornographic websites that pop up immediately after you use your “selective blacklist” to delete the first one you find. 

Child pornography is already illegal, and prosecutable under current laws.  Do I want a bunch of baby-rapin’ websites out there?  God no.  Will filters prevent a bunch of sick assholes from swapping files, or committing crimes?  Not in the slightest.  Go after the bastards that are producing and using the stuff.   Go after them smartly, and dedicate your time, money and effort into catching criminals, not parenting law-abiding, full-grown adults “just in case.”

Don’t throw the bathwater out with the rape-baby.  That’s all I’m saying.

And a tip of the hat to my husband, Jay Pinkerton - writer on Left4Dead2, and co-creator of Saxton Hale.  Between the two of us, we will NEVER be allowed to visit Australia.

—— 

*Man, this post is gonna do wonders for my google searches**

**Hello Mr. FBI Agent!  Please do not send Miss America to trick me into thinking she’s my sexy new friend.

***This is based solely on personal experience with the Australian rugby player I went out with once.**** I was gonnna make some bad puns about “down under” but I’ll cut to the chase and just say AUSTRALIANS ARE OBSESSED WITH TRYING TO GET INTO YOUR BUTT.

****Though, come to think of it, he might have been from New Zealand.  Either way, I’ll stand by my original sentiment: AUSTRALIANS WANT TO PUT THINGS IN YOUR ANUS.

Tags: Essays, Manifestos, & Unsolicited Opinions // 6 Comments »

…and writes a book about it.

Despite spending the past two years in the city that invented free-trade-faux-hipster-froo-froo-fuckin’ coffee drinks, I don’t really care for Starbucks.  That’s not because I’ve got some “stick it to the man!” anti-corporate sentiment.  Although I do think Starbucks’ recent “we’re not really Starbucks” business plan might be the height of douchbaggery.  

 I just don’t like coffee.

On the rare occasions I buy a coffee, I tend to order some triple mocha, extra steamed milk, lots of whipped cream and caramel concoction that essentially has no actual coffee in it at all.  Even that only happens maybe twice a year.

That said,  Byrant Simon’s new book “Everything but the Coffee: Learning about America from Starbucks” has me asking: Are you serious?  Not wanting to talk to total fucking strangers while waiting for a latte isn’t exactly a new (nor an unreasonable) concept.  Simon has clearly romanticized some fictional ”good ol’ days” when spontaneous debate and compelling conversations just popped up in every library and public park - “I was walking the dog when this homeless guy started sharing all these great insights on Schopenhauer.  That’s why I’m both late for dinner and reeking of urine!”

I mean, I don’t think this imagined community of stirring intellectualism happened even before the internet and/or Starbucks came along.  Maybe you got something close to it back when newspapers only came out once a year, and the entire town  had to share one, but even then, I think most of the “debates and conversations” were along the lines of “you done with that nice thin piece of paper?” followed by a meaningful look at the town outhouse.

Basically, it sounds like Simon’s entire book is “People are surfing the internet instead of talking to me!  If I ran a coffee shop I wouldn’t let them do that!” 

“And he conceded he probably won’t open his own coffee shop. But he said he knows what would make a good one. “People want these conversations, people want to feel connected,” he said. “I’m pretty sure about that.”

No. 

Just…no.  Sorry.  People want a fucking cup of coffee and a wifi connection.  Maybe they want a hot barista in tight black pants, too.  But they definitely don’t want some desperate creepy dude trying to talk to them while they’re sending out resumes or waiting for an 8 dollar froo-froo coffee drink.

I don’t think they ever did.  And that’s nothing to blame on Starbucks, no matter how douchebaggy they might occasionally be.

Tags: Essays, Manifestos, & Unsolicited Opinions, General Musings // 3 Comments »

Read it now at Cracked.com

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From the accompanying story:  On Hollywood’s Walk of Fame, fans gathered to pray around a sidewalk star bearing the name “Michael Jackson,” but it was the star for a local radio personality of the same name. Jackson’s own star, in front of the historic Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, was unreachable because of a movie premiere taking place there. After the premiere the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce planned to put flowers on it.

—- 

I should probably refrain from commenting as well, but I don’t have the AP’s restraint.  I find this HILARIOUS.  Though it’s got to be a bit awkward for the “other” Michael Jackson, who is still alive.  But he’s 73, so maybe leave some of the candles and flowers there, just in case.  

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I go back to my most successful well - New Secret Celebrity Scientologists!  There’s also a handy Scientology Star chart for those of you trying to keep track of who’s recruiting whom.

Megan Fox is hot.  Dumb, but hot.

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