Wednesday, June 25, 2008

The Cracked MC

Every so often, when I'm first going on to Blogger to update this here e-pistle, I click on some of the links of the passing parade; fellow bloggers who have just updated. Often this lands me on some Japanese schoolgirl's reminisces or a faux blog that advertises real estate or business opportunities. But the other day I struck the site of the Crack MC.

Here's a guy who drummed for the Beatnigs but, get this, he's a black atheist Republican and spends most of the blog dissing Obama as a choice for President. That is, when he's not busy ascribing every weakness and planetary problem to 'New Agers'. He calls his blog The Macho Response and it is the intellectual equivalent of mountain goats butting heads but when you call him out on anything (as I have done over the last few days) he quickly devolves - if that's possible - into ad hominem attacks. He's got nothing: thinks that homeopathic medicine is dangerous and that pretty much the whole environmental movement is misguided. He doesn't even go in for recycling. And, despite being quick to diss others for their lack of knowledge or understanding, is a shill for the fat cats of industry and the military industrial complex.

Look I hate radical Islam too but that's no reason to be just as boneheaded and prejudicial. You won't convince the world that you're in the right if you commit the atrocities that you decry the enemy for. Pity that such an obvious observation is lost to someone who is more upset over Hillary and 'those lying Democrats'.

Friday, June 13, 2008

Boots Boost

Speaking of letters pages, the free afternoon paper is filled with the loony skritchings of busybody commuters, dutifully noting each time a fellow passenger picks their nose or farts (I kid ye not). I wish I could say that I no longer bother with the letters page but I can't seem to look away.

I do have to raise an objection to one disgruntled grunter's rant though: he was complaining about the number of women wearing knee-high boots! I mean, fuck, come on man, what are you going to complain about next: the juicy taste of freshly ripened peaches? the gambolling of spring lambs? the orange glow of sunset?

Idiot, honestly.

Old Fart bier

There is a sign at the gateway to Hazelbrook shops advertising 'Old Fart' beer and let me tell you, there's no shortage of potential clientele to drink it.

Now I have no beef with the old blokes who shuffle up the stairs ahead of me at the station; it's the 'born old' brigade who seem to have a permanent franchise on the local gazette's letters page. No matter how demented or reductive their ravings, no matter how often they have previously been published, in they go. It's just a tad depressing.