Doesn't this look like the face of an honest man? I think I'd enjoy a nice caprese salad or hell, even a hoagie with him. It's Philip Alston, an NYU law professor as well as the United Nations Special Rapporteur on Extrajudicial, Summary, or Arbitrary Executions. So, important dude who knows his shit.

Harper's Magazine released this interview with him about the use of drones in combat situations (particularly targeted killings), unsurprisingly enough, does not paint the most progressive picture of the U.S. government or the CIA.

Recently, there has been talk of using drones to track the actions of civilians.


Is there anything more disappointing than receiving stale chips with your sandwich for which you paid cold, hard-earned cash? WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO?

At least there is this to make up for my sad, soggy-chipped lunch:

does someone want to take me to poland?

anyone? anyone?




(from dear old love)


come on, really?


So, found myself grazing the fields of Jezebel's offerings today and came upon this somewhat of an expose of The Daily Show. As a former devoted and now occasional viewer of the show, I had always noticed that women were scarce but I didn't think much of it. I'm long past hoping that women or women's contributions will be represented in any substantial way in mainstream media. The gist of the article states that women have rarely been hired as correspondents (or writers, I presume) nor have those hired remained in the cast as long as their male counterparts. It is highly doubtful that this is due to there not being enough women out there in the world who follow the news, have well informed opinions, and are capable of making with the funnies. Of course, they also have to be easy on the eyes or, hey, a Playboy bunny in order to get the gig. The first comment left was particularly poignant:

"We don't spend our whole lives being told how gross we are, we don't spend our lives being encouraged to indulge our every whim, whether it's a fart or a fuck, and we don't spend our lives being taught to embrace our flaws and deem ourselves awesome anyway (as so often is the case with guys. See: "every dude deserves a hot chick")."

What is interesting to me is that The Daily Show isn't even that good, anyway. It's become a parody of itself, and just like any other liberal "news" source, it hand picks stories that fit right in with it's world view. It's not informative or broadening the scope of journalism. For the type of content that is delivered, there is all the more reason to skip it and go straight for The Colbert Report. Stephen Colbert has the star quality that is sought from that audience and his delivery is exactly what those viewers want. The Daily Show is not about seriously analyzing or criticizing politics and current events any more than Fox News is trying to deliver a fair and balanced report of news from around the world. However, the average viewer of The Daily Show or The Colbert Report is most likely more informed, centered in their politics, and have more good will toward people than the average FN viewer. I hope. 





Really need to get things straightened out. Have been out of a routine for some time now. Driving me nuts. Makes me a little crazy everyday that I haven't had a real way of life in several years, at this point. Part of that is the general uneasiness of living in less than stable habitats and part of it is my lack of will power adhere to my own independence in the morning rather than just lay around with current manfriend, which inevitably leads to laying around in the afternoon. The problem with always having an excuse for why life-isn't-perfect-but-when-it-finally-is-I'll-do-something-brilliant-and-fulfill-my-potential-just-like-I-always-knew-I-could is not any external factor, but ME. (Plus, If I had the internet at home instead of having to mooch it off of loved ones or coffee shop owners, I probably wouldn't ever even leave the house much less make myself suitable for the dating or non-dating public.)

I used to be really good about having a morning routine. Put on KEXP or a record, or maybe even NPR. Make breakfast, drink coffee. Write something, whether personal or analytical for 20 minutes. Exercise or watch teevee, or internerd it up for a bit. Go to work. Of course, this only worked when I didn't have a hangover - which was fairly often to almost regularly for the past few years (what, what, everyone is 21 at some point). Sticking to one's morning routine is key to being a well-balance adult who doesn't eat sweets for breakfast and gets out of bed even when the weather isn't perfect. It's just too easy to not do anything, though the flipside of that is constantly finding alternative sources to exorcise one's creative energies. Hence the addiction to sweets of all kinds, at all hours.

Well, there is the whole thing about not being in . . . school. I've decided that THE FALL is the time to do it. FINALLY, and ALL THE WAY. I mean, I'm not doing anything otherwise. Sometimes I update this. I have a lot of things I'd like to make that I don't and instead I think about making them. I don't even know what I want to study, but I really don't care anymore. I'll figure it out; the much-needed discipline is more so what would make me feel more as though I am constructing my life rather than just letting it happen.

(I'm so glad I'm not a drunk anymore.)


My favorite line from this: "An hour after christening it, I smelled like a nursing home."



time: 10:21 p.m. location: SNOTHEAD CITY, USA.


I know, I know everyone also hates being ill. I know I'm not "special" in this. Why isn't the human race just one big club centered around not getting sick? Oh, right. Nazi socialists want everyone to be poor, sick, and dying. No, seriously. I just Googled "healthcare problems" trying to find some crazy flophead off his shit. I did good.

This chick is pretty much been a bit of an obsession lately. I feel like she's my alter ego. At some point in the day, every day, I daydream about what it would be like to run off and go gonzo on life. It's just so cool; she doesn't seem to have a lot of insecurities, maybe she doesn't know entirely what she wants out of life but she's having fun doing what she's doing, she fucks whomever she wants, she takes really decent pictures, is an acerbic yet poignant writer, and she's cute. But, ya know. I like stability okay.

Have been sitting on my ass way too much lately. The week before last, I was very active and top of all my wantings to do this and wantings to do that. I went running four times. I planted a bunch of peppers, tomatoes, and other plants in kitty litter buckets. I made food (I think?). I did some laundry. I cleaned my apartment. I looked for jobs. I downloaded a lot of really cool sounding music and listened to some of it.

Then, I found Taco.

Oh, Taco. Right from the start you were so adorable. You were found wet and scampering the streets late at night. I immediately scooped you up and poured affection all over you. It is no secret that I have been wanting a canine to devote whatever affections I have to give leftover from two cats, two sisters and a brother, said bf, already sparingly seen friends, and, oh, myself. Taco, you gave me the best lesson I could have ever learned: I was right to think that no dog could possibly fit into my life at this time. Especially a separation-anxiety-prone, ever-excitable, rarely-tired, lady-dog-humping-machine of a tiny Pomeranian mix pup. Oy. How I loved you, and loved to be rid of you.

Oh! Also! I found my real life Jerri Blank (and, yes, I do know about this).


Isn't she just lovely?



I need more stuff to read on the internet. Give me some links.



I think that's all. Oh, wait; it's nice outside at night. As in, it smells great and since it's been raining every few days there is usually a coolish breeze in the air. It looks quite more like spring out there than summer at times.

Have I mentioned lately that I need the internet at home? The lovely folks at MoKaBe's are probably starting to wonder when I'm moving in and how much I'll bring with me. Also, the slow drain on my checking account for various coffees and treats is beginning to speed up a bit, and now would most likely be the sum of services rendered for Interwebs-At-Home.

Music seems pretty cool again - again. Kind of hate when I'm lazy about engaging myself with music, seeing as how falling into a semi-dangerous depressive spiral of encompassing dreary voiditude is ever the more determinable. I've been downloading various bits and pieces like a madwoman on crack-cocaine with rabies. With that precious image of myself in mind, one would think I'd be getting into a lot of loud, aggro, face-meltingly scathing whathaveyou. Instead it's been a lazy drift through dream pop / shoegaze. Reacquainted myself with Papercuts, Galaxie 500, and Slowdive, amongst many, many, many others. Slowly acquiring a very real and committed interest in playing an instrument again - again.

Heather Havrilesky, who writes the at-this-point-fairly-canonical Rabbit Blog, entirely summarized every 21-30ish's anxieties and squashed them to bits in her last post. Sometimes I can't wait to be 40. Sometimes I can't wait to be not on fire.

On a sidenote: WHY CAN'T I JUST BE RICH. REALLY, THOUGH, I AM TIRED OF NOT BEING ABLE TO DO WHAT I WANT, WHICH MOST OF THE TIME HAPPENS TO BE SOME PRETTY BASIC SHIT. Godshitfuck, seriously, I have that feeling to look forward to for the rest of my adulthood? Cool. I can't wait to resent my kids, either.

(BTDUBS, so I know everyone has already seen this but I was just informed it yesterday. And how!)