The NRA is a cult that worships a terrible and bloodthirsty god. That god has given them dominion over one of America's two major political parties. Today, Wayne LaPierre delivered that cult's Sermon on the Mount.-- driftglass
Da' money goes here:
Friday, December 21, 2012
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To date, this is how the very few interactions I've had with Never Trumpers have gone, because I want to talk about the Befor...
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“This maybe the year when we finally come face to face with ourselves; finally just lay back and say it—that we are really j...
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Shorter answer to letter from Tennessee
"You're right, I'm sorry"
Note: I assume your goal is to get more listeners, not fewer, including those from states where most folks don't think like you. In fact, those listeners are even more important to what you do in the big picture.
Good morning, Mr. Glass.
Been wondering this for ages. Might as well ask now.
Has Ms. Gal ever screwed up during the podcast and referred to you by your civilian name? Because I've listened to ALL these things, and never once have I heard one of those after-the-fact audio insertions like, "So [DRIFTGLASS], you wanna talk about..."
Please give a shout-out to Jorn, who's celebrating the 15th anniversary of the (first-ever) post to his 'weblog' (<-his coinage.) Still at it, still eclectic, still interesting.
(Yes, the original blog is an artful aggregation, and it is good work, and he's never made a dime on it.)
http://www.chicagomag.com/Chicago-Magazine/The-312/December-2012/The-First-Ever-Weblog-Was-About-Chicago-Gangs-15-Years-Ago-Today/
https://plus.google.com/107445981246804216633/posts
Jorn and I made friends in the 6th grade, 48 years ago.
Alan Ginsburg was calling Moloch out back in 1955:
Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!
Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men!
Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!
Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!
Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose smoke-stacks and antennae crown the cities!
Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind!
Ok, I have to also agree that was a very non-apology-apology. I live in Florida, and I've developed an aversion to people from New York and New Jersey in the workplace because of all the rants about stupid lazy Southerners. (Again, in Tampa, FL. Sisterfuck we are not.) Our previous CIO would actually go on rants around his employees about how Southerners are "too goddamned stupid and too goddamned lazy to do a goddamned useful thing".
My Dad's family is from Philadelphia. Racism in both places is different. In the South, people just start complaining about the N*r's, which actually makes it easy to ignore them. New England was very different. People would be talking to you and would just go on tangents about how awful it is that N*r's are in their children's classes and moving into the neighborhood. When visiting Philadelphia, my parents would let me walk down to main street. (It was down Colfax and right on Eagle, down Eagle and right on Upper Darby, Upper Darby to the main road, or take the back way, so getting lost was not an issue.) I remember, in 9th and 10th grade, so pretty young, talking to the locals in Havertown, and people would talk for a bit then veer into ugly racism with a child in his early teens.
Also, there is something that happened a few times in New England that *never* happened in the South, or in rural Ohio. (Keep in mind for this that I'm white.) I would be playing at a playground, and kids would ask me if my family is rich. When I would say "no", the kids would say "then we don't want to play with you". I would tell my mom, and she just didn't believe me, and told me to go play. Once, the kids (I think a family), told me, "This isn't a place for your kind. You should go." I said I wanted to play by myself, and they started hounding me pestering me to leave. Their mother came over, listened to her kids, and then said that I'm upsetting her kids and should leave(the public playground). When I got upset, she looked very pleased with herself. I shouted, "YOU'RE A HORRIBLE ASSHOLE!" Sadly, it took a child to speak truth to her, but Mom quickly descended from the sky, surrounded by fire and lightning. She was ready to smote some ruin upon the playground, but when she found out what happened, she turned on the mother. The other mother's response was that the (public) playground was not for our kind. Again, when my mom recoiled in horror, the woman reared up again, looking quite satisfied, "And I demand your son apologize to us." She spat back, "No! He's right!"
While I've dealt with many a rich, privileged asshole, I've never encountered people proud to chase someone middle-class out of "their" public playground in the South.
If you need a fictional land, try "Fratinfiko", which is Esperanto for "Sisterfuck". Otherwise, Bluegal's idea is spot-on. Say, "Sisterfuck, Confederate Alabama."
Mike.K.
Another option is for the listeners to infer from context that Driftglass, um, likes liberals.
We seriously need our hands held on this? My state voted for Romney. My state is full of dumb fucks. Insult away. This is not hard.
Hello Mr. Glass... may I call you Drift?
I apologize for my presumption, and this is not actually a blog comment for publication per se, although you are welcome to publish it if you like. I was not quite sure how else to get in touch.
I am a fellow middle-aged lib'ral podcaster blogger geek parent guy, and I wanted to write you about a possible project.
I have not listened to every back-episode of the Professional Left podcast, but I've listened to most of the recent ones, and you frequently lapse into science fiction references and mention taking a drink. And each time, I want to cheer, and hear you talk more about your interest in science fiction, although it is clearly a bit of a digression.
Would you like the chance to follow up on those digressions?
I currently do a current events/politics podcast with a guy I've never actually met in person in New York State: http://bloodyveg.com
I've also done other podcast projects such as this ongoing project: http://generalpurposepodcast.blogspot.com
These are both fun but Rich does not like to talk about books, much, and neither does my wife.
Anyway, what the hell am I getting at, sir? Just this -- I think it would be fun[1] to do a podcast in which you and I had conversations about print science fiction -- perhaps bringing in politics and culture as well, but using science fiction as a starting point. Over Skype, maybe; I can record both ends, and produce the podcast.
I have been a fan since the Golden Age[2] and read as incessantly as I am able, and try to delve back into older works. Just a for instance? Let's see: I recently read the novels of Peter Watts; I'm working on John Scalzi's _Android's Dream_, having read his Old Man's War books; I'm a fan of James Tiptree, Junior, Philip K. Dick, Charles Stross, ummm... Stephen R. Donaldson... Jim Butcher... Gene Wolfe... Ted Chiang... Rudy Rucker... Greg Egan... just looking around at some of the books piled up9on my shelves, desk, and floor... and stairs... bathroom counter... kitchen counter...
So? Thoughts? Give it a go? Try a chat and see what happens? Sound like it could be a fun thing?
You can get in touch with me as Paul R. Potts on Facebook (I'm a friend of your wife), or paul@thepottshouse.org e-mail.
[1] as opposed to renumerative
[2] that is, twelve or thirteen
The "Our Moloch" article by Garry Wills:
http://www.nybooks.com/blogs/nyrblog/2012/dec/15/our-moloch/
Mike.K.
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