Wednesday, June 29, 2005
 

As I am a very popular and influential blogger, I'd wager that you think you can imagine how much email I receive. Well, you can't. The volume is just too great. Thank God I don't care enough to read all of it.

Of the small amount I do read, much of it goes something like this:

Dear Author of My Favorite Website:

I saw this story today, and I think it has
The Spoonbender written all over it.

Also, I want you to put it up in me.

Your Fan --

Mary Jane Rottencrotch


Now those many corresponders must wonder why I seldom if ever post about the item they suggest. There are a number of reasons. First among these is that I am not a prom DJ, and I do not take requests. Second is that there's more to mining my type of material than simply finding the first story you see about underaged girls behaving badly or Africans in a bad way. You need to find a certain universal angle to the story -- that it's about humanity's best intentions failing pathetically, God's maleficence, our deeply racist underpinnings, or all man's unspoken desire to befoul Marilu Henner.

The bottom line is that it's not easy to do what I do. If it was, I wouldn't be making the kind of money I am for doing it.

From time to time, however, a story comes along that is so obviously perfect for this website that you bust a gut merely in anticipation of my genius laughsmithery.

This is such a story.

Analogcabin @ 3:53 PM
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Considering the revelation that authoress Terry McMillan's Jamaican boy toy cum husband cum How Stella Got Her Groove Back muse Jonathan Plummer is gay, how long will we have to wait for his sequel, How Winston Got His Green Card?

Author's Note: That I not only posted about Terry McMillan but also referenced characters in one of her novels in said post should not be taken to mean that I've actually read any of her books. That would be really very fey.

Analogcabin @ 8:25 AM
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Tuesday, June 28, 2005
 

Despite what you might suspect, our President cares what you think. For that reason he will address the nation tonight in what's generally considered an effort to battle his flagging approval ratings and to address the concerns growing on both sides of the isle that his middle east policies are, like, dumb. According to the White House, Bush will accomplish this by mumbly extolling his "clear strategy for success" in Iraq.

As a reader of The Spoonbender, you're in luck, and not just for the usual reasons. Because I have highly placed sources within the White House [Secretary of Transportation Norm Mineta,] I was able to obtain the below list. It contains the Top Ten Things About His Iraq Policy President Bush Won't Be Saying Tonight on TV. And before you mention it, I too though it odd that these "Not Talking Points" were crafted in the Lettermanian manner, but, it's not the only thing about how this administration works that confuses me, so I overlooked it.

Top Ten Things Bush Won't Extoll About Our Iraq Policy Tonight on TV

10: As a result of this Oprah thing, the tide of public opinion is turning against the French.
9: Our enemies have grossly underestimated our willingness to scuttle a superpower in order to avoid admitting mistakes.
8: If you need proof that Bush can turn a situation around, look no further than the strongest team in major league baseball today -- the Texas Rangers.
7: The coalition has yet to unleash Poland's infamous Kielbasa Bridgade.
6: God prefers whites.
5: We're secretly training sharks off the coast of Florida, and early indications are that they'll give us a leg up on the insurgents.
4: The Supreme Court is poised to rule insurgencies, like every other god damn thing in the world, are illegal.
3: The President is presently freeing many thetans and will soon attain OT-VII, after which point he will be able to fly and to hold his breath for up to five minutes.
2: Our new Middle East force commander is Chef Gordon Ramsey, and he doesn't settle for anything short of perfection.
1: We cannot lose a war of attrition because our supply of Mexicans is limitless.

Analogcabin @ 3:10 PM
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Monday, June 27, 2005
 

Suppose you lose your keys. Generally speaking you look in all the usual places before calling your friends and family for help, right? I mean, of course there's the old "hiding in plain sight" thing, but for the most part people are pretty eager to avoid the embarrassment that comes with calling your sister in a panic and asking her to come over to help look, and then for her to find them hanging out of the doorknob.

Now, suppose you lose three children under 12 one of which is your son. It's a pretty scary thing to have happen, to be sure, but generally speaking you give the area a good look around before you call the cops, right?

Nope. That's not the way they do things in Camden.

Anibal Cruz, mother of one of the three boys who were recently found dead in the trunk of a car "just steps from where [they] were last seen playing," said:

That was the first place to look. You can look through the windows and check inside. That is simple. Maybe they should have looked in the trunk.

Hindsight, as they say, dear Anibal, is 20/20. But were they the police's kids? No, mom, they weren't. Was it the police's car? Nope, it was your mother's and it was sitting in your yard. And did the police know that your son had played in the car before? Nope, but you did, Anibal.

So on one hand we've got the police. They searched for three days with helicopters, dogs, and divers. On the other hand we've got Anibal Cruz who said herself that somebody should have looked in the trunk.

So if you're such a fucking detective, Anibal, why didn't you look in the trunk?

The lesson here is this: When searching for Mexicans, the first place to look is in a piece of shit car. Odds are you'll find the ones you're looking for and then some.

Analogcabin @ 2:09 PM
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Friday, June 24, 2005
 

We are on the precipice of a fantastic day.

Tomorrow is the second anniversary of an event that changed the way the world looked at the world. Before June 25th, 2003, the internet was seen as nothing more than a global network of computers allowing the quick transfer of various types of information and way for a lot of very fat, lonely Star Trek fans to socialize with other fat, lonely Star Trek fans. On June 26th, 2003, the people of the world realized that the internet was something much, much more. It had become the vessel for My Great Ideas.

The Spoonbender will be two-years old tomorrow, but as tomorrow is a Saturday and I generally refrain from posting on the weekends, we will rejoice together today.

There's a lot to love about this website, and chief among those things is me. And love me you have. You've loved me in your comments and in your emails, you've loved me in your prayers and your masturbatory fantasies. And although I've ignored them all, I recognize that all of these things are important to you. There is, after all, so little holding your pitiful life together. There are days when it feels as though simply turning on your computer, launching your web browser, and clicking the link to The Spoonbender will take every bit of energy and willpower you have. But you do it, and you read it, and you delight in it, and you live to visit another day.

That's why I say to you all on this bianniversaryeve, you're welcome. You don't really deserve it, but I'm generous that way.

Analogcabin @ 10:13 AM
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Thursday, June 23, 2005
 

When I read that the world prefers China to the US, I accepted the news without surprise. I mean, why wouldn't they? At least when the Chinese government takes your home they don't turn around and give the land to a condo developer. China meets criticism of their human rights record and oppressive political system with a kind of "fuck you, whitey" that only a 5,000 year old country can pull off. We meet the same criticism with a bunch of drawled bullshit that not even we believe.

Does anybody remember when being a Republican meant that you preferred small government, contained spending, and a belief in the rights of the individual?

Analogcabin @ 3:31 PM
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Wednesday, June 22, 2005
 

By now you've all heard about the Utah boy who went missing for four days in the mountains, and you've had a chance to think to yourself, Why does this always happen to kids in Utah? Latter Day Saints? More like Latter Day Ain'ts, those child-losing babyeaters! Well, searchers found the little pain in the ass yesterday, which I think you'll all agree conclusively proves that Joseph Smith was right about polygamy.

Anyway, the thing that struck me about this story is the headline: "Scout's parents: 'Brennan continues to amaze us.'" That's because, based on what they said within the article, it should have continued, "...with his stupidity." Consider the words of his mother:

He had two thoughts going through his head all the time. Toby [the father] always told him that if you get lost, [to] stay on the trail. So he stayed on the trail. We've also told him don't talk to strangers ... when an ATV or horse came by he got off the trail ... when they left, he got back on the trail. His biggest fear, he told me, was someone would steal him.

What a stupid kid. When you're alone in the fucking woods for days without food or water, you've got to prioritize your concerns. In those straights, the smart Scout's motto is, "Be prepared to put out in exchange for water." While I can imagine that getting molested sucks, I'd bet dying from dehydration alone in the woods is more than a little bit worse.

All this also goes to show, no matter what they advertise, being a Boy Scout teaches you nothing about using a compass.


Brennan Hawkins' parents, above, learned you can teach a child to hide from strangers, but you can't teach him common fucking sense.

Analogcabin @ 3:33 PM
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Tuesday, June 21, 2005
 

Yesterday I read about a study that concluded that a woman's cortex, the part of her brain that controls consciousness, turns off during an orgasm.

And all this time I thought that only happened when they were talking! Yaowzah!

But seriously, folks, women have orgasms? Hey now!

Analogcabin @ 4:05 PM
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NYC2012, the committee charged with luring the Olympics to New York City, has announced that Mohammed Ali will join the US delegation to Singapore, where the vote to decide which of the candidate cities gets the games will be held.

I guess they wanted to shake things up.


"Float like a one-winged butterfly, sting like a Parkinsonian bee."

Analogcabin @ 2:44 PM
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Monday, June 20, 2005
 

Those of us who are very talented achieve milestones in our lives regularly, and so we become accustomed to it. But simply because accomplishment is commonplace for me doesn't mean that my various triumphs shouldn't be celebrated by you. So it is for that reason that I share with you now the tale of the time that a post originally published here on The Spoonbender was co-opted by the thieving wannabes and pretenders of NPR.

It should be said that I do not work in radio. I did host a radio show in college which was quite remarkable. Finding it hard imagine? Picture this in your mind's ear: The kind of brilliance found here, except delivered in the most honeyed, resonant, and pants-dampeningly sexy voice ever for four hours a week. Now add the occasional concert ticket or Frederick's of Hollywood $10 gift certificate giveaway, and you're in the ballpark.

Bafflingly great as it was, my brief, brilliant career in college radio was not actual, professional experience, and so I'll admit that I'm not totally familiar with "professional" radio's manner of mining material for broadcast. Nonetheless, something about the below comment struck me as odd:


I'm writing from Open Source, a new public radio show that aims to bring the spirit of the web onto the radio each night, to let you know that we included this post in last night's show, something we called Blogsday, in honor of James Joyce and "Bloomsday."

We combed through hundreds and hundreds of posts that were all written on June 14, 2005, stuff we found all over the web, and then read excerpts of our favorites for an hour of live radio. It was a bit of an experiment, but we were thrilled with the results.

We didn't have time to alert any of the bloggers whose posts we included in advance, since we were producing the show until the second we went live, but I wanted to let you know now that this post -- or at least a part of it -- was read live on the air. Now that we finally have time to catch our breaths, we'd love to hear what you have to say.

Best regards,
Dave Miller
Senior Producer, Open Source


Sure enough, I visited the link he provided, downloaded the show, fast-forwarded past all of the other dreck in the way of my genius until I heard it -- my post being read and pauses for emphasis being inserted by some very important-sounding man. It's a weak post, which for me still means far stronger than two chapters of the Bible, but I can understand NPR's attraction to it -- it's almost completely inoffensive.

Now I certainly can't blame this Miller fellow for wanting to capture the spirit of the web, which is me, of course, and trying to put it into a radio or whatever. Believe me, if I could figure out a way to distill what it is I've got and imbue various other products with the magic, I would have done so long ago. But I must admit that I find the off-handed way in which he mentions that he'd helped himself to my material without even an email, let along one asking for my permission, to be a little offputting.

But if at any point the show appears on CD offered as a pledge drive gift, I'll be leaving Dave a presumptuous thank you note of my own -- in ball point pen on his wife's forehead thanking him for use of her mouth.

Analogcabin @ 1:06 PM
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Friday, June 17, 2005
 

I remember the last time I enjoyed a trip out to the movies: It was 1992, and I, drunk and pantsless, mistakenly wandered into a Florentine middle school orchestra's performance of Rondo alla Turk thinking it was that Italian anale porn I'd heard so much about. No matter how many times I've tried to recapture that thrill, going to the movies just isn't the same today.

So if you're like me, you're not surprised at all by the results of this poll. It found that 73% of Americans prefer watching movies at home to seeing them in the theater. The primary reason home-viewers gave for their preference was convenience.

What I did find to be enlightening are the reasons for their preference given by the 22% of people who still enjoy going to the theater:

- 10% say that the sound of infants crying is the perfect accompaniment to Ja Rule's performance in Half Past Dead.

- 7% enjoy the opportunity to masturbate in proximity to strangers.

- 4% are happy to know that the $6 surcharge on a small popcorn is going to defend copyright holders like Michael Bay.

- 9% think a heated structure with plumbing is a far more comfortable environment than the refrigerator box in which they live.

- 12% appreciate the easy-to-hear commentary on plot and character provided by the 245-pound black woman in the third row.

Analogcabin @ 8:58 AM
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Thursday, June 16, 2005
 

This is so perfect it requires no joke:

The Republican congressman who pushed for "French fries" to be renamed "freedom fries" joined a bipartisan group of House members Thursday to call on President Bush to begin plans for a U.S. withdrawal from Iraq.


Representative Walter Jones, above, is obviously a fucking idiot, but at least he's smart enough to know when he's been had.

Analogcabin @ 4:43 PM
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So if you read many blogs, you're probably familiar with one of the most ubiquitous blog advertisers -- a company called Neighborhoodies. I don't know much about the company, except that they appear to be headquartered in New York and that they specialize in ironing letters on to sweatshirts. But I do know this: If you wear a sweatshirt made by this company, you're fucking retarded.

Simply feeling compelled to express to the world whatever it is that wearing a sweatshirt with "Cobble Hill" ironed-on to it expresses doesn't make you retarded. There's probably a good reason to exclaim to passers-by that you're a gentrifying hipster, and you and your intern friend successfully chased an Ecuadorian family of six out of your sweet two bedroom apartment with your daddy-subsidized rent checks. There's no doubt that a two-word phrase is much more pithy than telling everyone within shouting distance that you're an irritating whore who claims that Geek Love is her favorite book, which is true only so far as it's the only book she's read since A Tale of Two Cities in eighth grade. In a way, I completely understand that you really want to feel like you're a part of something, but that your Kappa Kappa Gamma sweatshirt doesn't go over at The Knitting Factory as well as it did in the dining hall at Hampshire.

What makes you retarded is that you're either willing to pay $50 to someone to make you a sweatshirt with "Cobble Hill" ironed-on to it when you could purchase a sweatshirt at any discount department store for less than $10, a package of iron-on letters at Joann Fabrics for $3, and a used iron at Goodwill for $2, or you're too retarded to be able to figure out how Neighborhoodies combined those three ingredients into the garment you'd like to wear.

All that said, do you think they could make a dark blue one with "College" across the front in white? That would be hilarious.


A retarded girl, above.

Analogcabin @ 9:03 AM
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Wednesday, June 15, 2005
 

Whether you were on the side of the Terry Schiavo issue that insanely insisted it's the government's duty to insure that the all-but-dead remain plugged-in or on the reasonable side, I think all of us can agree on one thing: what's done is done, and there's no reason in the world to call a dead woman stupid no matter how many problems she caused.


Duh.

Analogcabin @ 12:02 PM
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Tuesday, June 14, 2005
 

Jamaica's Asafa Powell broke the record for the men's 100 meter dash.


Runner's high, above

Analogcabin @ 3:22 PM
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This morning I very nearly wrote a post applauding the news that close to a quarter of a million of those Razor motorized scooters were recalled. Good riddance, I nearly wrote. The only shame is that they weren't left on the market longer to maim more of their irritating ridership. I very nearly discussed at length the horrible noise the scooters make, and how the children who ride them have no respect for property boundaries or pedestrian safety. I almost complained that their parents lacked the good sense not only to avoid spoiling their children with valueless modes of midgety transport, but also the good sense to instill in those kids a respect for the sanctity of a neighborhood's quiet after eight in the evening. And I came close to suggesting that any child who would want to look like an idiot by riding a contraption that looks as though it's designed for the disabled deserves, then, to be disabled by the contraption.

Then I realized posting that stuff would make me sound old.

Analogcabin @ 3:10 PM
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Monday, June 13, 2005
 

If people in Africa had the internet, computers, or electricity and if they could read, I suspect they might accuse me of unfairly dismissing their continent as a vast wasteland -- a place where the common language is despair, at least after that one with all the pops and clicks, and the people are less interested in learning to fish, as they say, than in savagely raping a fish over some ridiculous tribal grudge.

Now I know what you're going to say: That's a lot of ifs, Hallowed Author of The Spoonbender. If the airing of their grievance is dependent upon those hapless savages stopping all their AIDS-getting and figuring out how to log on to AOL, I wouldn't start drafting the apologia just yet. While I acknowledge that you might be right about the timing of things, I endeavor to present an objective view of all of the continents here. That is to say that, while the dark continent's manchildren cannot speak for themselves, I will stoop to their level and speak for them.

And so it is for that reason that I bring this to your attention. It's news that Swaziland's King Mswati III married over the weekend. The bride was Nothando Dube, the 18-year-old winner of the Miss Teen Swaziland competition. The two met after last year's Reed Dance -- an annual celebration during which "thousands of maidens dance bare breasted in honor of the Queen Mother." Dube is the King's 12th wife. He married his 11th, Nolichwa Ntenesa, two weeks ago.

So, sure, there are some problems in Africa. But anyplace where "thousands of maidens dance bare breasted in honor of the Queen Mother" can't be all bad. I mean, what does that say about the Queen Mother? That's she's big pimpin', for one thing.


Don't hate the playa -- King Mswati III, above -- hate the game.

Analogcabin @ 11:25 AM
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Friday, June 10, 2005
 

I don't have much for you today, as, frankly, I've given so much already.

There was another arrest in the case of that Alabama girl who went missing in Aruba. The suspect is the teenaged son of an Aruban judge. His name? Juron Van Der Sloot.

Now, I don't know about murder, but he's certainly guilty of having a ridiculous name. I mean, just try to think of a sillier name than Juron Van Der Sloot.

Pipkash Von Pebbly Webbly? Not as silly.

Stibbles O'Ballyhoo? Not as silly.

Bongplatts McSplishensplash? Not as silly.

Analogcabin @ 12:03 PM
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Thursday, June 09, 2005
 

According to this story, Jesse Helms' forthcoming memoir will include an admission that he was wrong that AIDS is a "disease largely spread by reckless and voluntary sexual and drug-abusing behavior," and that its spread would remain confined to those populations. The former Senator was an outspoken opponent of gay rights and federal funding for AIDS research. Helms attributes at least part of his reversal on the topic to U2's Bono.

In the book, Helms doesn't reverse all of his well known prejudices, however. He defends his opposition to the end of segregation and his belief that integration would occur naturally over time. About the issue Helms writes:

We will never know how integration might have been achieved in neighborhoods across our land, because the opportunity was snatched away by outside agitators who had their own agendas to advance. We certainly do know the price paid by the stirring of hatred, the encouragement of violence, the suspicion and distrust.

Funny stuff, I know. But what I like best is the forthcoming memoir's title, "Here's Where I Stand." The story was accompanied by the picture below.


Jesse Helms, above, wrote his forthcoming and inaccurately titled memoir, "Here's Where I Stand," from the chair in which he's forced to sit.

Analogcabin @ 1:23 PM
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Wednesday, June 08, 2005
 

This story discusses a study suggesting that the key to the female orgasm is in the genes.

Sure it is -- in mine!

So granted, that joke is probably better spoken than it is written, as a full appreciation would require spelling "jeans" in the punchline. But that would totally subvert the homonymic delightfulness of it, wouldn't it? In any case, I ask for your patience in regard to that. God knows I've given you enough of it.

Because you know what's in my ge(jea)nes? My wiener! Yaozah!

Anyway, if you can make it through all of the really quite erotic discussion of identical twins and masturbation without taking a trip to the bathroom for some quiet meditation, you'll see some interesting statistics quoted in the piece. First off, there's that two percent of men do not have orgasms. Now I don't have a joke for that, but I thought it was worth mentioning nonetheless. Do you suppose they count people who have, say, lost their testicles in a tuckpointing mishap as "men?" If not, I must say that I find the figure shockingly large.

Just like what's in my g(jea)nes! Look out!

I also thought it interesting that the study concluded that "34 to 45 percent of the variation in [women's] ability to orgasm can be explained by underlying genetic variation." I don't mind saying that I felt personally vindicated by the conclusion, as well. Now I know with certainty that, all of those times I responded to a woman's complaint that she didn't cum by saying, "There's obviously something wrong with your pussy," I was right.

Analogcabin @ 12:28 PM
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Tuesday, June 07, 2005
 

Yesterday was a big day for America. Not only did we finally win the War on Drugs, but we also set a precedent that will allow us to bring the handicapped-hating non-American world to heel.

It's great news, I know. But what's this? You hadn't heard? Well, allow me to edutain you.

Both of these great accomplishments came thanks to our Supreme Court. The first was a ruling in a case brought against the government on behalf of bleary-eyed hopheads including Angel Raich, whose "doctor" felt as though smoking marijuana would be the best treatment for her "inoperable brain tumor." Our glorious government argued that the federal Controlled Substances Act trumps laws in Alaska, Colorado, Hawaii, Maine, Montana, Nevada, Oregon, Vermont, Washington, Arizona, and California that allow for the cultivation and use of medical marijuana. The Justice Department rationale was that homegrown medicinal pot impacts interstate commerce, though it's not actually bought, sold, or transported over state lines, essentially because neglecting to prosecute users of it undermines other enforcement efforts -- efforts that are, as evidenced by the incredible scarcity of marijuana nationwide, going really well. The success of the argument in front of the Court could bolster the government's efforts to tax and regulate home-cooked food products -- products that are, though not generally bought, sold, or transported much more than a few miles, analogous to foodstuffs manfactured by companies like Hostess that are heavily regulated. There were three dissenters who, evidently, are potheads.

The second triumph of democracy came when the Court ruled that the Americans with Disabilities Act was found to apply to even boats that do not fly an American flag. Lawyers arguing on behalf of the cruise industry said that, while cruise ships do often host American citizens, they are not technically American vessels. They went on to say that, if American law applies to foreign vessels simply because Americans are on-board, then American law should apply to any place where there might be Americans -- Disney World, for example. When Justice Sandra Day O'Connor pointed out that Disney World is in fact in Florida, which is part of the United States, the cruise industry lawyers cited another example -- Cabo San Lucas. Cruise industry lawyers then suggested that if God had wanted handicapped people on boats, he wouldn't have made them handicapped. Justice Department lawyers countered by saying that God did indeed want handicapped people on boats just as He wanted someone other than Saddam Hussein in power in Iraq, and that's why He made America the most powerful nation on Earth. When Justice Antonin Scalia asked whether the government was suggesting that, if the bathroom doors in Sammy Hagar's Cabo Wabo Cantina were too narrow to allow wheelchairs through, America would be justified in invading Mexico, the Justice Department lawyers said simply, "Yes." There were four dissenters who, evidently, hate the handicapped.

Analogcabin @ 9:54 AM
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Monday, June 06, 2005
 

People often ask me how I got to be so edgy; about how I developed the talent to cut to the bone of today's hot button issues with such remarkable acuity and hilarity.

I was born into it.

This weekend I was talking to a relative on the telephone. The relative asked me if I'd heard about the American girl who'd disappeared in Aruba. I said yes, and we briefly discussed what a shame the incident is. The relative, who'd been watching the news coverage of the disappearance very closely, then said that it wasn't looking good for the girl.

"How so?" I queried.

"Well, they arrested someone involved in it. A black. Native."

I didn't say it, but I thought the only appropriate satirical response: Typical.


A black native, above, was arrested.

Analogcabin @ 12:15 PM
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Joining me in assuming for a moment that the news that Jessica Coen is leaving Gawker is actually true. One can imagine the awkward moments between she and Denton leading up to this day.

Her arrival in New York -- an electric bundle high hopes, ambition, and blossoming sexuality. Him looking over her shoulder, his hot breath on her neck as she typed the words that would make them both famousish, "Side Kick." Her embarrassment at walking in on Denton "interviewing" her replacement, all clenching English buttcheek and hairless ballsack. Her sense of betrayal fermenting into the kind of rage only a Pi Phi in her early 20's can know. And the pitch that left them salivating at Simon and Shyster.

"It's Sex in the City meets Just One of the Guys meets The Other Sister."

So while we wait for the inevitable tell-all, all we can do is speculate on what the title might be.

Gawking Head: How Nick Denton Hurt My Bottom?

We'll Always Have Paris: My Life at Gawker?

How to Suck Seed in Business Without Even Crying?

The Swilling Fields: How to Live It Up in NYC on $5 a Day and a Publicist's Cocaine?

Analogcabin @ 9:01 AM
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Friday, June 03, 2005
 

You know what I got to do to celebrate my graduation from high school? Pick up some extra fucking hours at the roast beef and frozen custard stand where I worked and maybe, if it wasn't slammed, hit some nitrous out of the whipped cream canisters in the cooler. Now, if my parents had said to me, "Hey... great job with that high school thing. You want to go to Aruba for a week of Jello shots and balcony tit flashes?," of course I would have said yes. Who's kidding who? I'd still say yes.

But you know what? They didn't offer it and, though I probably missed out on a good time, I'm not missing and presumed kidnapped by natives.

What's my point? Unless you're retarded or living someplace where other kids in the neighborhood take pot shots at you with an AK when you're walking to school, successfully completing 12th grade isn't an accomplishment worthy of a trip to the fucking Caribbean. An '85 Tempo maybe.

And this isn't about jealousy.


Happy graduation. Now mow the fucking lawn, Einstein.

Analogcabin @ 12:17 PM
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Thursday, June 02, 2005
 

So, for the record, I'm absolutely against sex crimes of almost every variety. Fuck it, I'll go so far as to say every variety. That's how strongly I feel about this subject. That said, this story bothers me.

First off, there's the whole Canada angle. I mean, fuck Canada, am I right? Second, the name Karla Homolka isn't exactly the easiest to pronounce. And finally, I find the idea that the government would convict and sentence a criminal, even one whose crimes are as heinous as Homolka's, allow her to serve that sentence, and then effectively extend the sentence to be really, really upsetting.

For those of you unfamiliar with the case or illiterate and therefore unable to read the article for yourself, Homolka and her husband were convicted of the kidnapping, rape, and murder of a number of teenaged girls. The details of the case are really quite grotesque, but let if suffice to say that the couple are really, truly fucked up. Homolka's husband is serving two life sentences but, as a result of a deal made to testify against him, she's going to be let out of prison in July. This is especially upsetting to Canadian authorities because, after the trial, videotapes of the abuse surfaced which proved Homolka totally complicit in the crimes and also rendered her testimony against her husband unnecessary. Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20.

The crux of the argument being made by the Canucks is that Homolka is liable to do something like this again. The same argument is made in the US all the time, and is the basis for the well-publicized Megan's Law. If you don't watch America's Most Wanted and haven't heard of the law, it requires all sex offenders register their address with the state. It also provides citizens access to these registries. For kicks, here's a link to California's database.

The success of the law in crime prevention terms is unclear. This source suggests that the law has had little to no impact, but I'm sure advocates and opponents could lob statistics back and forth for days. One thing that is clear is that, whether for fear of vigilantism or a naive desire for privacy, a significant number of offenders legally compelled to register don't. Even conservative estimates say that more than 20% of convicts are unregistered.

The underlying issue is what's really difficult: Can sex offenders be reformed? I feel as though the prevailing attitude in our society is no, but our laws still read as though they can. For example, the average rapist or child molester serves about five and a half years.

If we as a society believe that sex offenders cannot be reformed, we should put them in prison forever, or execute them, or chemically castrate them, or hospitalize them, or throw them into the ocean in a burlap sack. If we believe they can be reformed, we should make them serve their time and release them back into society. I think it's irresponsible to release them and then stigmatize them in such a way that prevents whatever rejoining of society we claim to hope occurs.

Ultimately, this isn't only about sex crimes. It's about our justice system. Is it one of reform or containment? Personally, I think it's the latter, but we make ourselves feel better about things by claiming to believe in reform.

I realize that this post was light on jokes, so here's a good one on topic:

A child molester and a kid walk into a forest. The kid looks around and says, "It's really dark in here, and I'm scared." The child molester says, "You're scared! I've got to walk out of here alone!"

Analogcabin @ 2:06 PM
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Wednesday, June 01, 2005
 

Don't get me wrong. I think what these Peruvian doctors have done for little Milagro "Beanfield" Cerron is terrific. I understand that going through life with sirenomelia, or "mermaid syndrome," isn't be as cool as it sounds, especially since I found out that all it means is that your legs that are fused together to the ankle, and not that you have the ability to swim really well or to breathe under water or talk to fish. When you take those superpowers out of the equation, sirenomelia sounds downright uncomfortable. For example, you'd have to hop all of the time. The bottom line is that I'm a believer in the old adage, "Two legs are better then one."

The problem is not that these doctors have successfully separated "Beanfield"'s legs. The problem is how they described her privates.

"...Her urinary tract, anus, and genitals end in the same opening, almost like a 'sewer.'"

Now, I'm no expert in child psychology, but calling an infant girl's privates a sewer in the international media strikes me as a bad choice, especially for one who's sworn to "above all else, do no harm." Once a girl gets something like that into her head, it doesn't matter how many legs she's got, she'll never be able to run from the crippling self-image issues.


Milagro "Beanfield" Cerron, above, is finally putting on her pants one leg at a time.

Analogcabin @ 9:37 AM
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