Showing posts with label irony's a bitch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label irony's a bitch. Show all posts

2.25.2011

Absolutely Amazing Comeuppance for the "Fag Bashers"

So, Westboro Baptist Church (a/k/a "God Hates Fags" fucknuts), claim that Anonymous sent them messages trying to hack the Church, but that the Church and Jesus-H-Christ saved them where Amazon, eBay, Mastercard and Visa failed.


What happens next is pure classic fucking comedy cold. In a confrontation, Anonymous claims that the alleged "attacks" never happened, or were orchestrated by the Phelps Phreaks. Roper-Phelps, the mouthpiece for this vile "religious institution", then claims that nothing, no one...absolutely nothing can silence the church or shut down their words..."

Gotta' really see what happens, beginning at the 2:10 mark




Roper-Phelps  "I'm talking to a little Jew guy" 
Little Jew Guy "well, your websites are down now..."

Look on face? Classic.






I didn't realize that their version of a sodomy-obsessed, America-loathing, funeral-protesting,  fag-hating god was a n00b!
Pwned!!


Seriously, 10 minutes long but a case study in unintended irony, schadenfreude and good ole' fashioned comeuppance. Good job, Anonymous. Again.




-d.s.

2.07.2011

1984 all over again...

Apple, back in the day (1984, to be exact), used to be the upcomer, the challenger to the brown-boxed IBMs and Commodores (gray, natch) that dominated the nascent home-computing market.

They insisted on being different. Demanded that the sheeple break free from the 5'14" floppies, and, well...think different. How different? They went so far as to blast the PC/IBM hegemony with the now-classic 1984 ad below.


That was then...


Flash forward two decades, where Apple completely dominates the portable music market, has revolutionized SmartPhones, and -with the introduction of the iPad-- now holds a commanding 75% market share for tablets (on top of it's 11% and growing desktop market).

Imagine my surprise then, when I saw this lil ad streaming on the twitter feed last night for the Superbowl. 


..This is now.



The product is the Motorola Xoom, an $800 competitor to the ubiqituous iPad (also pushing 8 big ones). And, this time, it's the lil' upstart being portrayed as the hegemon; the enslaver of the masses. Not too sure how Motorola, of all people, can claim to be the little guy. But, what's good for the goose here back in the days of Reagan and Yuppie douches, is just as good today, in the era of a black president and Hipster douches.




-d.s

1.07.2011

How do I love Romania, let me count the ways.

First, it's got a kick-ass book about the amazing life of Atilla Ambrus, the anti-hero described in Ballad of the Whisky Robber as:

the Robin Hood of Eastern Europe. He's the onetime pelt smugger, goaltender (possibly the worst in the history of pro hockey), pen salesman, Zamboni driver, gravedigger, church painter, roulette addict, building superintendent, whiskey drinker, and native of Transylvania who's decided that the best thing to do with his time is to rob as many banks as possible.


 Okay, so he's Hungarian (close enough, right?)


Second, it's got Roma (Gypsies), and Gypsie curses.

Double, double toil and trouble: witches in Romania are planning to cast a spell on the country's rulers because of laws that will force them to pay tax for the first time.

Cat excrement and dead dogs, rather than eye of newt and toe of frog, will go into their cauldron – but they are hoping to put a Macbeth-style hex on the country's president, Traian Basescu, and his government after the imposition of a tax regime aimed at tackling the recession.

Intriguing. Tell me more...


A dozen witches will hurl the poisonous mandrake plant into the river "so evil will befall them", a witch named Alisia said. The threatened curse is not being taken lightly in a country with a long tradition of superstition. Basescu and his aides have been known to wear purple on certain days in an attempt to ward off evil.

The new law is part of the government's drive to collect more revenue and crack down on tax evasion. It will force the likes of witches, astrologers and fortune tellers to register their professions and become liable for 16% tax in line with other self-employed Romanians.

The Queen witch Bratara Buzea said she would lead a chorus in casting a spell using a concoction of cat excrement and a dead dog. "They want to take the country out of this crisis using us? They should get us out of the crisis because they brought us into it," she said.


There's not much more to add to a story that kick-ass, other than to wish more power to the good occult Roma, and good luck in both your necromancy and tax evasion...



Where's Borat to defend me? I sense the evil eye of a Gypsy Witch
(Yes, she really is...went to prison and everything for it).



-d.s

12.20.2010

The bittersweet dream...

Of a big bore V-8 speeding down an endless ribbon of highway, wind whipping caressing me like a lover, the painted desert further painted on the reflection of her sunglasses, her bright red lipstick and tousled hair, a radio that never sounds bad. She half-climbs into the backseat of the black convertible, as the wind worries at her dress.

We are young, reckless and utterly "ima wo ikiru"..."being", living in the moment with no past and no future, and an aimless, rudderless love for life itself.


Mood music. The excellent Danish punk, gothabilly band, Volbeat.



The first car we've encountered on this lonely highway, speeds us by. The driver's tie is at half-mast, bags line his eyes which show a far-away look of deep concentration on the road and whatever else lies heavy on his mind. In the backseat, a bored child's face is pressed against the glass. I try to smile at her as we pass, but no light comes to the little girl's eyes, and we're quickly forgotten.

And then the dream dies around me. What was perpetual sunset, is now a descending darkness. I feel the night's chill set in, and realize that I brought nothing to keep me warm. I begin to become consciously aware of the heavy lump in my pocket where an empty wallet lies. I worry as the gas needle drops faster than gravity would seem possible. What once was whimsy on her face turns into a cold distance, and furrows unconsciously gather in her brows. There grows a distant pang somewhere in the pit of my stomach that isn't attributable to growing hunger alone. I start to think about -not this moment- but the moment's that must come tomorrow, and the preparation that must be done now so as to live in that future, rather than this moment.

And, it's a dream. A bittersweet one; an irresponsible one; an impossible one. 

It is, in short, Rousseau's notion of the liberated individual; the spirit freed from the strictures of everyday society. And it leaves me gasping for breath as I choke against the tethers that I only occasionally feel, but which I've leashed about myself in an effort to stave off uncertainty.

A dream juxtaposed against a very real sacrifice. That is what I'll tell myself today, anyway.








-d.s.

11.09.2010

Irony, thy name is delicious...Grave Robbin' Edition

Understated. I like it.
 
 
I've always maintained that I love people like a twisted version of Doctor Who loves people: That is to say, that I am amazed by them. Not necessarily by their stories, their deeds, their actions, their histories -- although there is that -- but mainly by the creative and seemingly endless ways in which we commit a variety of fuck ups, failures and foibles. 
 
In a sense we are spooky toddlers blundering around the planet like children performing brain surgery.



Pictured (L to R): Dr. Pookums and her charge nurse preparing for a routine micro-ablation of Broca's Region.


That said, imagine my delight when I read this story from the Chengdu Evening News via China Daily Mail.

A grave-robbing villager in Chengdu, capital of Sichuan province, surrendered to police on Friday after he killed a rival.
The fight was over who has the right to rob an ancient tomb.
Ye Guicai, 32, was a member of a gang that robbed a dozen graves. However, he recently learned about an ancient tomb near his house and when the gang tried to steal from it, Ye tried to claim it as his own.
However, the other members of the gang wanted to share the tomb's treasures and a fight broke out. During the fight, Ye used a knife to kill one of the other gang members.




This heart-warming tale of "WTF?" is brought to you by Rabid Seal (tm). When bats, badgers, dogs and raccoons just won't do for your rabies fix, try Rabid Seal (tm).


Seriously, you just can't make this shit up. Murdering one another over the right to unearth dead people's belongings. You know who approves of this? Loki, that's who; the only God that I see in daily life. Because, Loki knows, there is more than enough chaos, dickish irony, and black humor to go around.

-D.S.



 



3.10.2010

A reminder about Polar Bears...

I know, it' looks awfully cute, and it should come as no surprise: Both dogs and bears are in the carmifordia branch of the order carnivora, and both species are highly intelligent, playful and will totally fucking kill you in the wild.


Steven Colbert is on a constant threat alert about bears. Somehow, though, the message just hasn't gotten through to people that Polar Bears are, in fact, bears. They are as large as a grizzly, agile swimmers, and -because of human encroachment- much more likely to come into contact with human settlements. This doesn't make them less likely to attack, but more so.


Just last year, my daughter and I were at the Doorly Zoo in Omaha. While there, we saw a juvenile male polar bear checking out the small children standing next to its tank. He would pounce around, dive into the water, then take a couple of test laps by the children. That's when it occurred to us that these little children, thinking that the polar bear was being inquisitive, probably appeared to be tasty, seal-sized bites of flesh to the polar bear.



This is the actual bear that was sooooo interested in the kiddos.



I finally have my confirmation. Behold the below awesomeness. It's a group of Japanese tourists at Seaworld. One of the young ladies has purchased a baby Harp Seal plush hat. Not thinking, she walks right up to get a closer view of the cute polar bear...awesomeness ensues...


funny animated gif
She deserved it...it's the way she was dressed.
Image via Gifbin.com



For those of you wanting to feel sorry for this girl, two things to remember: First, she is approaching an 800 pound predator that's been in captivity most of its life. Second, she is approaching said predator, dressed up as its favorite food source, captivity be damned...Now, perhaps people will remember; they aren't cute...they're just white, aquatic versions of grizzlies, and I don't see a whole lot of people queuing up to pet those beasts.


Sigh.
I see you're not convinced, so go ahead and watch the video of puppies and bears playing.





.

1.27.2010

NOT so clever dog....

This morning, I showed you the clever, clever dog. But, as you and I all know, there are some of our best friends who aren't so bright. Poor ole Lucky (best misnomer, evah1!1) is one such dummy....





BWAHAHAHAHAA





1.17.2010

1.15.2010

Some things write themselves...


Irony, thy name is delicious...



Other things this woman worries about:

-Cost of beluga
-Depreciating value of getaway homes on the Seine
-Jheri Curl hydration
-Vasectomy reversal
-Winner of the water polo match between Stanford and Yale
-Her singing voice
-Barnacle removal







12.21.2009

Yankee cities not to die in: New York

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Bad, bad move by the KKK


When keeping it real goes wrong....


The KKK, founded by ex-Confederates (and sympathizers) in Ohio to stymie Reconstruction, was a scourge of free blacks, Catholics, Jews, immigrants, and any other group not fitting in with its White, Christian doctrine. Until the 30s, the Klan was a serious social force in areas with predominately white populations and those areas undergoing social upheaval (i.e., everywhere in America). Now, they are cartoonish parodies of a darker time in U.S. history.

They just don't know it yet.

Enter a group of knuckleheaded Klucksters down in Texas. Apparently, having run out of blacks, Catholics, Jews, Mexicans and others to harass, they heard about a group of pagans to harass. This particular group, however, were not the earth-muffin flakes of Gardnerian neo-Wicca, they were...ummm...Asatru.



For the uninitiated, Asatru is the Germanic and Norse worship of figures such as Odin. You know him as Corpse Ripper, Grim, Glad of War, and by a host of other peace-n-love names.


Seems there was a group of Ku Klux Klansmen in Texas who heard that some Pagans were holding a ritual out in the woods somewhere. Having run out of other minorities to harass, they decided to get backto their roots and practice some religious bigotry in addition to the usual racial intolerance and break up the party with a good ol' cross-burning.

So anyway, these fellows loaded up some lumber and a couple of cans of gasoline and went out hunting for these Pagans they'd heard about, hoping to catch them dancing naked around a fire or something.







Well, that is a fire...of sorts.






They found the spot where the other vehicles were parked and donned their hoods. Grabbing the lumber and gasoline, they assembled a cross and strode off into the woods, confident that they'd scare any remaining pants off the fluffybunny Pagans.

They were a little disconcerted to find themselves looking at the business end of at least 2 spears, a couple of swords, and several assorted knives. They'd crashed an Asatru blot and didn't realize that not all Pagans are pacifists.




Before the NAACP or B'Nai B'rith, shield walls and berzerkers enforced civil rights...
 
 
 

The punchline of the day, according to Becca, was this gem "From somewhere behind the hardware, a voice called out "If that cross goes up, you're getting nailed to it.."




Here's a hint; don't even think about harassing the heavily-armed descendents of a culture who exulted in warfare and considered the slaying of an enemy to be a religious act and cultural obligation.








12.16.2009

Two meals from away from a wolf...

Here's a story from my part of the world, and continued validation of two facts: The first is that dogs are the coolest pets ever; the second, is the old maxim that every dog is two meals away from being a wolf...



If you do not give this dopey family companion its Alpo, in a few short days...





She will get hungry and wolf out on you...


In Papillion, Nebraska (which, for some reason known only to midwesterners, they pronounce as Pap-ill-ion) just outside of Omaha, a middle age man had adopted two pugs, Harry and Sally, as his companions. Like a lot of the elderly or lonely, the dogs were his pets and, sadly, his only real company. And, like many of the home-bound and reclusive, when things happen --such as sudden death-- it takes a while before anyone notices.

Well, the two puppies had to eat, you know, so they did what dogs are want to do in the wild:

Two loveable pets are forced to survive by eating their owner’s dead body. The pugs named Harry and Sally spent two weeks in a Papillion home after the 51-year-old man died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

Police don’t suspect foul play. A neighbor noticed there were no tracks in the snow from the home and called police last week.

Click here to find out more!
Officers found the man dead and determined that his pets had no dog food. So Papillion Police believe the dogs survived by using their owner’s face, head and torso as a food source. The pugs were turned over to the Nebraska Humane Society. The director of animal welfare for NHS Denise Gurss told Channel 6 News, “There was not any actual evidence that we saw that there was blood or tissue anywhere on the dogs.”





Police re-enactment...



 The dogs have been deemed "loveable" and "well-adjusted" by the humane society, a spokesperson for whom stated:

"They're happy to have someone around them who wants to touch them," said Gurss. "They were thrilled to get a bath, jump up and kiss faces and see people. So I think they are going to be just fine."






That's not affection, that's tenderizing...




This whole story smacks of grisly doesn't it? But really, if you think about it, it's not. It's just dogs doing what they did for millions of years, hunting and scavenging. And, if you think for one instant that your beloved family member, companion and best friend won't do the same thing should you fall ill or die suddenly, well...let's just say that I'll be happy to let you test that hypothesis...




I will totally fucking eat you...




12.04.2009

PETA: UGA would like you to STFU already....


Really, is it dignified to replace this cute fella (and family pet I add) with a friggin' robot dog?


As has been well documented other places, PETA's latest attention grab is their entreaty to the University of Georgia to replace their beloved UGA mascot with robot dogs...  According to PETA, it is an opportunity to highlight the cruelty of animal breeding.


 
This dog has clearly been subjected to torture and maltreatment...


Ignore, for a moment, that Uga is not a mere mascot; he is a family pet, and his moonlighting gig is to be adored and worshipped by millions of UGA students, fans and alums, as well as dog lovers everythwere. Think for a moment that these dogs have access to world class facilities, health care, and all the love that anyone, or any critter, could ever want...


Seems pretty cruel to me...


Now, on the heels of that bizarro-world, complete disconnect with reality, comes THIS completely batshit PETA ploy...a woman willing her body to various degrees of dismemberment for PETA media-whoring. Among the gems of this "will" are the following....

1. Upon my death, it is my wish that my body be used in a manner that draws attention to needless animal suffering and exploitation.

Oh boy...Exploitation to highlight exploitation. Does fuzzy logic tickle?

a. That the “meat” of my body, or a portion thereof, be used for a human barbecue, to remind the world that the meat of a corpse is all flesh, regardless of whether it comes from a human being or another animal, and that flesh foods are not needed


Maybe not needed, but damned tasty anyway. BTW: Did you know that humans smell like pork?



Pass the sauce...
 


b. That my skin, or a portion thereof, be removed and made into leather products, such as purses, to remind the world that human skin and the skin of other animals is the same and that neither is “fabric” nor needed, and that some skin be tacked up outside the Indian Leather Fair each year to serve as a reminder of the government’s need to abate the suffering of Indian bullocks who, after a life of extreme and involuntary servitude, as I have seen firsthand, are exported all over the world in this form;

Obviously she doesn't live in the Northern Plains, where down, leather and animal hides are the warmest things, indeed the only things, that keep one warm enough to survive.



Yep, animal hides. Completely. Unneccessary. 


Ah, but the hyperbole is just getting warmed up...

d. That one of my eyes be removed, mounted, and delivered to the administrator of the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency as a reminder that PETA will continue to be watching the agency until it stops poisoning and torturing animals in useless and cruel experiments; that the other is to be used as PETA sees fit
 


Dear PETA, can I haz extra eye? K Thx. 
XOXOX 
-Alastor Moody


And, as if that weren't weird enough...

h. That one of my thumbs be removed, mounted upwards on a plaque, and sent to the person or institution that, in the year of my death or thereabouts, PETA decides has done the most to promote alternatives to the use and abuse of animals in any area of their exploitation;

i. That one of my thumbs be mounted in a downward position and sent to the person or institution that, in the year of my death or thereabouts, has gone against the changing tide of societal opinion and frightened and hurt animals in some egregious manner



Siskel and Ebert approve of these provisions...



And, it gets weirder and weirder....

f. That my liver be vacuum-packed and shipped, in whole or in part, to France, to there be used in a public appeal to persuade shoppers not to support the vile practice of force-feeding geese and ducks for foie gras;



Did you say liver? I'll bring the fava beans and chianti...


And, lastly, Ms. Newkirk's will directs the following....

k. That anything else be done with my body that PETA believes will serve to draw attention to and so abate the plight of exploited animals. 


I particularly enjoyed this provision. Mainly because PETA, who decries exploitation of animals, has absolutely no qualms about exploiting their fellow human animals. This is an organization that smacks of mysogyny and sexism at every turn, and who -without any sense of irony- gratuitously uses women as props, as attention-grabbing subjects for their tasteless ads, as (if you will pardon the word) puppets and meat for their own gain.

Seriously, PETA, shut the fuck up already.


PETA can place this ad, and decry exploitation, without any sense of irony hitting them in their thick skulls...

 



 

 

11.24.2009

One more reason hippies sucked: Consumer Hypocrisy


It's true, and you know it...


The 60s sucked for so very many reasons, today's rant is really about the exploitation of all those trust fund kids by their own kind...other crypto-socialist hippies who could mythologize about a centralized market but wouldn't know one if it kicked them in their sorry asses. These fucking ingrates berated their parents who had fought a World War to keep facism at bay, built one of the strongest economies in the history of the world, and then did their damnedest to give their spoiled, lazy fucking progeny a better life and education. By and large the parents' reward was to see their money pissed away, the degrees wasted, and their children devolve into the longest, loudest cultural temper-tantrum in America's history (some of which was deserved, some of which was purely manufactured angst).



This is what happened to hippies who, after blowing through their facist parents' money forty years ago, had to make a living with their dual degree in American Studies and Ancient Textiles.


What is lost, however, is that to be a hippie was a damned expensive venture on occasion. And one demanding considerable capital. Not surprising since this era of the proletarian revolt was often a disgusting smorgasbord of pure capitalist greed.  Think about it: It was one damned great big era of ponzi schemes, false prophets, fakirs (and fakers), gurus, cult leaders, cult of personality leaders and faux Marxists, all peddling something. Be it advice, enlightenment or bric-a-brac, that shit wasn't free. Yet these douchebags lounging in bars, empathizing with the plight of the worker in the 3rd World, never really saw that. All they did was just try to blend in with everyone else, fuck the same like-minded people, listen to the same shitty albums, get the same shitty sociology and women's studies degrees, go to the same sit-ins/concert hopping, and similarly rant about whatever the injustice du jour was.

But all the time, like good little consumer trolls, they obeyed the market.


You are a beautiful and unique sheep.


And, of course, one thing the hippies did not stint on was drugs...a shitload of drugs. Don't get me wrong, back in the day I gleefully and wantonly ingested every substance (illicit and otherwise) know to man: liked some, loved others, with yet others I just plain wanted to die (or almost did). However, I never had an acid trip, 'shroom ride, or button tea that made me think that crass consumerism was somehow an individual display of my free spirit and/or empathy with the under-menschen.

And, I never thought that this was a good idea....



Der Schatten wants to know how in the hell this display of consumerism promoted internal grooviness, man.







Published by the Neo-American Church in Millbrook, NY, this little ditty was expensive back in its day, topping out at $2.00...in 1967...for a coloring book. According to Westegg's nifty program that calculates inflation, this 24-page coloring book for dirty hippies would have cost you $12.29. So, what you have is just an infintesimally small instance of the bilking that went on by hippies, against hippies. 

Want more? Sure. According to "Mod Girls" all of those groovy bell bottoms in 1969 came with a price tag somewhat surprising for alleged DIYers, with the avg cost being about $16.88 in 1969 dollars. That translates to $94.47 in today's sheckles. Okay. So they bought them second-hand. Fine, used ones went for $10.99, or $55.93.  What about those peasant blouses? Again, they were about $3.50-$5.00, or $19-$38 bucks. So, say what you want to about the 60s and hippies, but don't call it an age of independence or austerity, or rejection of consumerism. Call it what it was --a fad that masqueraded as a social movement, and spent a lot of fucking money.

And, you want to know they punchline? These Boomers are still being bilked, still being sold whatever's cool, still paying exorbitant prices for shit, and -in all respects- still haven't learned....


Again, you know it's true.