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If you want to read more about Mykel's adventures in Albania, The US South-- or life in General-- check out Mykel's Diary For a look at the weird, the scary and the funny in real life, check out Mykel's Article's and Propositions.
An Irregular Column
Column for MRR 343
by Mykel Board
aka Mykel explains the difference between doing and being
“A person's sexuality is so much more than one word “gay.” No one refers to anyone as just “hetero” because that doesn't say anything. Sexual identity is broader than a label.” --Gus Van Sant
Los Gallos me dan dinero. Las mujeres me lo quitan. “The cocks give me money. The women take it away.” It's written... white on brown... on the front of my hat... a baseball-style hat I bought in Mexico-- made in China... of course.
The hat is on my head. My head is on my neck. My neck is on my body, the ass of which is on a United Airlines seat. The seat is fastened to the inside of a Boing 737.
I write this in the air... over the hills of Kentucky, where, like in Mexico, you can go to cockfights if you want. I'm thinking about my own cock, which hasn't earned me money in over 35 years, but has cost me plenty-- not only from the women. I'm headed toward the detestable Phoenix. Then, the much better Tucson. Then, the heavenly Agua Prieta, Mexico.
I'm leaving behind hellish New York with its TV cameras on every street, ID checks in tall buildings, bag checks in the subway, and a new law that criminalizes attendanceat a dog or cockfight.
You don't have to actually DO anything to violate the law. You just have to BE there. That's illegal.
Flash to scene one: Chickens... beaks clipped... five dozen squeezed together in an area smaller than my apartment. Wing-to-wing, feather-to-feather, unable to move, to stretch, to do anything other than lay eggs. When they can't do that anymore, WHAM! grab a leg, lay 'em down, ffffft, off comes the head. Do they die instantly? Oh no. The expression running around like a chicken with its head cut off didn't come from nowhere. They live, those suckers... heads twitching in a floor pile... bodies not dead... kicking... in unimaginable pain... until enough blood drips to the concrete floor to send them to hen heaven.
Not one second of painless life while alive. Even a horrible death must be a relief for them.
Flash to scene two: A concrete ring in a small enclosed stadium. Two trained cocks face off. They stare at each other like professional boxers. Eye to eye, heads bobbing like human boxers. A flutter of wings. Attack! One bird settles, digging its claws into the back or the other. Half flight, the bottom bird shakes off the top one, backs away. A thin trickle colors its feathers.
They face off... dive... half fly... flutter... each intent on defeating the other. It's cold and brave. These birds have balls.
I've seen them trained, these birds. I've seen the love and care their owners have for them. I've seen the tears shed at each death. Who lives better? The cocks or the chickens? Who dies better? Which is illegal?
Yeah, Cockfights... or dogfights... or bullfights... shouldn't be illegal. Cockfights are more humane and less painful than the day-to-day lives of America's billions of chickens. Dogfights? Hah! Those dogs live better than any of America's billions of cattle. Dogfights are illegal because people don't have pet cows. Cows aren't cute.
I've written enough making fun of vegetarians, but at least they have the integrity that most supporters of this law don't have. For vegetarians, cruelty hidden is the same as cruelty for sport. You gotta admire that.
That's all an aside... a tangent. What I really wanna write about is BEING vs DOING. I want to write about laws that criminalize EXISTENCE, in a place... at a time... like the NY law against BEING at an animal fight. You don't have to DO anything... just BE there, and it's illegal.
Right now, I'm on my way to the most notorious place that criminalizes BEING: Arizona. Uh oh! Mexican without a license. BEING born in another country is against the law. The idea that a person (rather than an action) is ILLEGAL should be repugnant to all those of non-genocidal persuasion.
America is famous for crimes without victims. Drug laws (possession) and porn laws (possession) are the most obvious. Can you tell me who is hurt if you POSSESS an internet file or a syringe of heroin? MAYBE you are hurt, but it's your choice. In any case, it's gonna hurt a lot less than getting butt-fucked by a murderous cellmate.
HAVING is a kind of BEING. The object you have is simply BEING owned by you. The means of getting it should, perhaps, be prohibited. But HAVING? It's as innocent as breathing.
I can't imagine a valid law prohibiting possession of ANYTHING. Stolen goods? Stealingalready is against the law. Fair enough. Possession? No!
Your neighbor's head in a hatbox? Murder already is against the law. Your neighbor is just as dead with her head in your apartment as she is with her head in the dumpster outside.
Even having $36 billion, like the mayor of New York, shouldn't be illegal... though it should be controlled through taxes. The bankers who stole money from customers, who DID something by tricking-- or extorting-- people into giving them money, the DOING should be punished, not the HAVING. (Though, nobody HAS $36 billion dollars without DOING something bad to a whole lot of people.)
If it were legal to say it, I'd say Dick Cheny should be hung by the balls for setting up the torture in Guantanamo. (It probably is illegal to say that, so I won't.) But these are ACTIONS, not states of BEING or HAVING. He WAS vice-president... BFD. It's what he DID.
EEEEEE! SCREECH TO A STOP, Er. Er.. Er.. SWITCH GEARS
Sometimes people confuse BEING with DOING. Take “gay”... please! Of course homosex is a victimless act. It is no longer (in the US) a crime, and it shouldn't be. There's plenty of DOING that, like being, shouldn't be illegal. Most, in fact. But it's important to distinguish the two.
No one IS gay. It's not something you can BE? What does it mean to BE gay? Attracted to the “same” sex? Hah, every one is-- in one way or another. Having sexual contact with the “same” sex? Are all prisoners “gay?”
The idea that gay is BEING rather than DOING is part of a big problem. BEING gay is such a trap for a shitload of people. Guys begin to be attracted to other guys. They suddenly think “oh, I like the way he looks. I must BE gay.” Then suddenly their world changes.
Someone in Real Jock, the “gay health and fitness website,” asks, why do gay men like the same kind of music as 14 year old girls? The letters section of MRR fills with people explaining how “Emo” has become code for “gay.”
What does music have to do with the organs that enter your anus?
Glad you asked.
The answer, of course, should be NOTHING! It's only a connection if you think gay IS something... BEING something. Johnny who, though his crush on Aiden, thinks he IS gay, will suddenly become his own image of gaydom. He'll dress gay, like gay music, go to gay bars, a whole slew of things that match the image of what he thinks he IS. Instead of just DOING Aiden, and BEING whatever he wants, Johnny has to BE gay. That's a trap. Johnny has given up his right to choose, because of what he thinks he IS.
Part of why I respect trannie boys and girls so much is that they refuse to BE. As much as society puts pressure on people (especially guys) to BE gay or straight, there's that much more pressure put on people to BE a man or a woman. Who can resist such pressure?
Everything is divided. Even the fuckin' bathrooms, for God's sake. MEN/WOMEN... choose one. BE one. Transsexuals refuse. They refuse to BE. Or rather they CHOOSE to BE. Screw your biology.
It takes more balls for a boy to put on a dress than it does for one cock to face another in a concrete ring. And girls? Them too!
Ok, I have a twat. That doesn't mean I AM a girl. If I want, I can just be a boy with a cunt.You gotta love that!
I know one-- a boy with a cunt. S/he lives with a guy in a “homo relationship.” “She” calls herself “he” and goes to gay bars and, as far as I know, gets popped in the poopshaft. (I only wish I could find out first hand.) S/He's a god(dess). The perfect person... immensely strong... refusing to be trapped by biology.
Instead of the poor homo saying, “I can't help it. It's biology. That's just the way I AM.” You've got someone saying, “Fuck biology! I AM who I want to BE.”
If there's a master race, it's transsexuals.
Almost. Sometimes the badguys are just too smart. I never watch television, but occasionally I see a newspaper. I read something about Cher's trans-son, Chaz Bono. And what? He's going to be on TV, selling soap in Dancing With The Stars. Ah America, if they don't make it illegal, they make it a commodity.
-->They can sabotage too dept: Harpers Magazine reports that a British intelligence group has announced that its operatives had sabotaged the launch of Inspire. That'san English-language magazine published by Al Qaeda supporters. How did they sabotage it? They inserted cupcake recipes into an article on bomb-making.
-->How to get free healthcare in America dept:The Gaston Gazette reports that James Richard Verone walked into a bank and handed the teller a note demanding one dollar-- and medical attention. Verone worked for Coca-Cola for seventeen years as a deliveryman before being fired. He is unable to handle work because of his poor health and he has no health insurance. The Gazette reports that Verone chose to rob the bank to so he'd be sent to jail. He felt that was the only way he could get free healthcare to treat his poor physical condition.
-->Drink this! dept: The Progressive reports that the federal government is warning residents in Pavilion Wyoming not to drink the water. It is not only polluted, but also potentially explosive. The EPA issued a warning that said people should not drink their water and should use fans and ventilation when showering or washing clothes to avoid the risk of an explosion.
-->Whose picture is that next to the GREEDY entry dept: NJ Governor Chris Christie called public school teachers "greedy" for their $50,000 salaries and benefits. He forgot to mention, however, that his own salary is $175,000 with free healthcare. He does not call for cuts to THAT salary.
-->Food for thought dept: This from my pal Kyle, finally out of the clink... and on Facebook): “If you get 20 years in prison for fantasizing about kids, and jacking off in your home to kiddy porn... and you get 20 years for going out and kidnapping and raping a little girl... well what's the molester gonna do?”
-->Which is more important dept: After the earthquake and radioactive tragedies in Japan, CNBC commentator Larry Kudlow reported "The human toll here looks to be much worse than the economic one, and we can be grateful for that"
-->Presidential Material Dept: Presidential candidate Michele Bachmann wished Elvis Presley a happy birthday-- on the 34th anniversary of his death. She made the remark during a campaign stop at a restaurant in South Carolina. Given the location, I expect a lot of patrons would have been aware of the error. Another interesting fact, because of the name, Bachmann, a lot of NY Jews think Michele is one of us. G-d forbid!
-->Store this letter in the closet dept: I got this form letter (asking for money of course) from the what used to be called The Gay Task Force. It's an advocacy group for all the mainstream stuff like homos in the military or gay marriage. But it seems that people are ashamed to receive mail with GAY in the return address. So the group changed its name to THE TASK FORCE. Whew! Now I don't have to be embarrassed in front of my mailman.
(Note: It's shorter than usual this month. (TWSS) I have not been censored... just timed. I'll be in Mexico for the column deadline, so I have to get it in early.(TWHS))
"These self-anointed Protectors of the Overprotected endlessly yammer about breaking the "cycle of abuse," oblivious to the concept that imprisoning someone is a particularly vicious perpetuation of that cycle.” --Jim Goad
“Death begins in the colon.” --Sir Jason Winters
I'm fetally curled into a human comma. My arms are thrust between my legs. Those legs are pulled up toward my chest. A bubbling perks in my intestines. Bullump. Bullump. Bullump. I feel it along my right side... the side pressed against the naked mattress beneath my naked self. The bubbling moves. Up my right side, across my abdomen, down my left side. Bullump... Bullump... Bullump... the gaseous track of my large intestine. It presses rectally downwards... gurgling through the netherworld. Building pressure.
I cup my hands over my struggling sphincter... contract my stomach muscles...push... hard. BLAAAAATTTTT. Just a few milometers north of a liquid explosion... whew! I blow pure hot gas into my hands. Now I raise those hands to my nose... inhaling my own smell. I turn the inside out. How is it that it smells so good? How is it that other people's farts stink to holy hell and mine out-roses any rose ever risen?
The fragrant gas enters my body. From my nose and mouth, down deep into my lungs. It's a physical, spiritual, metaphysical cycle. That beautiful smell... leaving my body... entering my body, traveling through my body.
I drift back to sleep.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! What the fuck?
The alarm clock. As beautiful a smell as my own fart... that's how horrible is the sound of the alarm clock. In the 1400s clocks had no minute hands, just an hour hand that lazily circled a Roman-numeraled face. Then came the minute hand, and 8AM became 8:09AM or 7:59AM. It wasn't long before a someone added a SECOND HAND. In Union Square, you can get the time to five decimal places. Who the fuck needs five decimal places? My boss?
How can I lay in bed and enjoy my farts? There's work to be done. Time to get up.
I try to sit up. Pain shoots through my pelvis, down my leg. Excruciating. Aaaaaaah! My leg, my balls, my prostate. On fire. A burning mass of pain.
“AAAAAAAAH!” I cry out
BAUM! BAUM! BAUM!
My neighbor bangs on her side of the wall. The universal signal for SHUT THE FUCK UP!
I lower my cry to a whimper.
From the waist down, is pain. Everything hurts. Last night's beer bulges in my stomach. The sciatica presses against my back and legs.
Unable to stand, I roll like a log until one arm reaches over the side of the bed. Then, pressing down, I slowly... painfully... drop my body on to the floor... knees first. Using the arm already touching the floor, I push myself up... stagger forward, grabbing a lamp for support... hobbling as fast as biology will let me... I enter the bathroom... fall ass-first onto the toilet.
PLOW! I explode... just missing spurting brown down the back of my legs. But the usual bliss that follows a massive beer shit is lost.... buried in the pain in my back and legs... Is there a reason to keep living if you can't enjoy a beer shit?
NEWS FLASH:A court in Mexico has just found an American teenager, who goes by the nickname "El Ponchis," guilty of torture, murder and kidnappings.
Edgar Jimenez, 14 years old, was convicted of torturing and beheading at least four people and kidnapping three others. The bodies were found hanging from a bridge near Mexico City last year. The judge sentenced El Ponchis to three years in a correctional facility, the maximum permissible for a minor. He was also ordered to pay a fine of 4.5 million pesos, the equivalent of about $400,000.
Flash Ahead: My Mexican pals have invited me back. It's OLD PUNK FEST, in Agua Prieta, one of those border towns where 14 year old Americans cut the heads off who-knows-who. I was there last year. Maybe you read about it. It's one of my favorite towns in the world. Home of Walmarcito and Burger Queen.
My Mexican pals have put together a cover band again. Sin Arte.. I'll be “singing” and hosting an OLD PUNKS night. La Merma, Grito, Pop Gestapo... Except for BEEF, I may be the only non-Mexican in the show. I hope so. That's the way I like it.
When I started this column, I planned to write about circles. My fart leaving and entering my body. My return to Mexico. Old punk rockers rejoining and playing again. This column continuing the theme of the last, and one before.
I've changed my mind.
Going to Mexico will complete a circle. Like sniffing a fart. Last year, this year... but the circle is not round. Just as my beer shit lost its ecstasy in the pain of my sciatica, these circles too become less perfect, more jagged, over time.
My circle metaphor for life may be a spiral. Or something else. When Jim Goad talked about “the cycle of abuse” (check out the opening quotes), jail did something. It knocked that circle a bit. Stretched it. Made it even nastier than it already was.
The circle is such a nice metaphor. But it's wrong. The zen circle is not a circle. Maybe it's shapeless... or shape-shifting like a vampire in a bad TV show... or an amoeba with no shape at all. Maybe it's a spiral... an ever smaller circle that ends in nothing. The neat package of this column has come unraveled.
With my metaphor gone and visions of headless bodies in the street... 14 year old Americans caught and those not caught... I board the plane to Mexico.
-->One step forward two steps back department: In October last year, the National Portrait Gallery of the Smithsonian featured it's first exhibition "to focus on sexual difference in the making of modern American portraiture." Pretty bold for a government gallery, huh?
Not so fast, the Catholic League attacked one of the images in a video displayed in the collection: 11 seconds of ants crawling on a crucifix. Rep. John A. Boehner led the congressional threat to stop funding if the video was not removed. Within an hour, it was gone.
-->Sometimes bad news isn't dept: Gay City News reports that a recent court ruling "may place nearly insurmountable obstacles” to porn producers suing illegal downloaders. The lawsuits worked in the past, because they'd embarrass the downloader as much as hurt financially.
The way the porn companies worked in the past was to collect IP addresses (your unique computer id number) of "violators" and then sue them as a group. Unless another court overturns the ruling, they can no longer do that.
Awww too bad, right?
-->Cause and effect dept: I've often written about how the US has the world's second highest NON-smoking rate, and the world's highest cancer rate... showing that NOT smoking causes cancer.
Now, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration reports that the number of children killed in car crashes in 2009 was 9.6% less than the previous year. They also report that the number use of professionally fitted child booster seats also went down.
So what are we to conclude? NOT using a car seat saves kids lives. Seems reasonable to me.
--> If there were more profs like that, I wudda got my Phd dept: A former assistant professor of psychology at John F. Kennedy University in Pleasant Hill, California, has sued the institution for sex discrimination. She says that she was fired for performing in an off-campus burlesque act.
Sheila Addison was hired in Sept. 2007 to teach graduate students under a one-year contract as an assistant professor of psychology. The following July she was awarded a two-year contract which stated that she could be fired only for “just cause.”
At about the same time that she started working at JFK, she started performing under a pseudonym, Professor Shimmy, at the Hubba Hubba Revue, a burlesque show in San Francisco.
She belonged to a group of performers who sought to bring social commentary to their acts. Some of her performances tell stories, including one in which she performs with a classically trained male ballet dancer. He dresses as a snow fairy and she as the abominable snowman. When they remove their clothes, the audience sees that the fairy and the snowman are not the genders they're supposed to be. Yeah!
The university declines to comment on the case.
-->Completing the Circle Dept: The mercenary company Xe Services, which pre-scandal was called Blackwater, has brought shamed former Attorney Gneral John Ashcroft on board in a new position. And what exactly is that position? Why, ethics chief of course.
(I shit you not.)
-->Humane torture dept: Senator James Inhofe, told Fox News that torture victims in Guantanamo have it easy: "These detainees, they have things they've never had before. You know what the biggest problem in Gitmo is right now? It's obesity. They're eating better than they've ever eaten before.”
-->Reality theme park dept:Parque EcoAlberta in the Mexican state of Hidalgo allows tourists to sign up for a three-hour trek that simulates a refugees passage into the U.S. According to THE PROGRESSIVE magazine "Tourists must navigate craggy ravines and rolling rivers with only a flashlight-- no food or water.... The trek ends with gunshots as the would-be migrants are thrown into the back of mock U.S. border patrol trucks." The cost for the trek is $20 a person.
-->Buy a liberal today dept:AT&T is plugging to buy competitor T-Mobile in a bid to out-monopoly Verizon. So how do they get support... especially from liberals who usually oppose corporatocracy? They give money!
In 2009 alone, the NAACP received a million dollars from AT&T. GLAAD, the pro-Gay-censor-the-opposition group got $50,000 from the Apple-Loving Giant.
I say (with palm out, facing upwards) Go AT&T! Buy that sucker! I support you! Is the check in the mail?
-->Cut! Print! It's a take dept: The Rumanian Doctors Union has criticized a decision to make a surgeon pay almost $200,000 after he lost his temper and hacked off a patient's penis during surgery.
Surgeon Naum Ciomu had been operating on the patient to correct a testicular malformation when he suddenly lost his temper.
According to the BNI Newsletter “Grabbing a scalpel he sliced off the penis in front of shocked nursing staff, and then placed it on the operating table where he chopped it into small pieces before storming out of the operating theater.”
The doctors union objected to the court decision, saying “Doctors in Rumania earn too little to be able to pay amounts like this.”
I say that if the doctor would only support the ATT T-Mobile takeover, he wouldn't have any trouble paying the fine.
If you want to read more about Mykel's adventures in Albania, The US South-- or life in General-- check out Mykel's Diary For a look at the weird, the scary and the funny in real life, check out Mykel's Article's and Propositions.
An Irregular Column
Column for MRR 341
by Mykel Board
aka Mykel refuses to keep his shirt on.
If people vote themselves into slavery and give up their liberty, is this freedom? --Isaiah Berlin
It's 1995... the same Toronto anarchist festival I wrote about last week. That was the Vegan Reich story. This one's about Alekz Vermont... and some other girl... I can't remember her name.
It's like a dream. I'm in an open field. Two girls are chasing me. Two attractive girls... the kind I usually wouldn't run from... but would turn to... nuzzling my muzzle between their legs... savoring the clitoral sea breeze.. lapping languidly between the labia.
But now they haven an agenda. They want to hurt me, I think. So I run.
BLAM!!! Something hits the back of my legs. I'm down... tackled... like a football player. The other girl... the one who's not Alekz... grabs my KLANARCHY t-shirt... SCRRRRRT... tears it... tears it off... Then Alex is on my shirtless self... her knees on my shoulders... She does not lower herself, pressing her luscious mons veneris into my face. Instead, out comes a magic marker... a thick one... indelible... She draws two arrows on my chest... one pointing to each nipple. Under the arrows... equally indelible... she prints THESE ARE TITS TOO.
Then they skedaddle... both of them... waving my shirt like a captured flag... off... to wherever girl anarchists go when they strip a boy... gone... leaving me to walk around half naked... for the rest of the day... smiling at cops who have better things to do... Some anarchists asks me what it means. I shrug.
1999: I'm happier than a Christian at a book-burning. At ABC NO Rio... one of my top 20 live bands of all time. Mmmm boy.
They were on the cover of Flipside. I heard the record, saw them at CBGBs. Now I can get even closer.
As usual, Esneider is at the door. I hand him my $5. He stamps the NO VALUE rubber stamp into the pad and then on the inside of my wrist.
“Be careful today, Mykel,” he says. “Stay out of the pit. They've got the most vicious pit I've ever seen.”
“I'm five foot three inches tall,” I remind him. “I weigh 130 pounds. I NEVER go into the pit.”
“But Mykel,” he says, “sometimes the pit goes into you.”
Inside, the tiny club is packed. Back in those days, the shows were in the basement. There was no ventilation. It was always hot.
A packed house and a tough pit means SUPERHOT. Maybe people will take off their shirts. Yeah!
I stand on the side... in back of a short attractive girl. She'll be a buffer in case the going gets tight. I've got a great view of the band. Shirts have already come off because of the heat.
Then the music starts. Wowee! Slam-away. Fuck, right in the ribs... in the shoulder... OUCH! ...in the balls... I back off more... a little more peace...
Then the lead singer, Lynn, takes her shirt off. Yeah, it's TRIBE 8, the best Lesbo band in herstory. And Lynn, the greatest of the great, has the balls to take her shirt off at a punkrock show. Just like everyone else. Tits like everybody else has. Yeah!
The academic part: Kurt Vonnegut once wrote a story about equality. In that story, the society required everyone to be equal. So if somebody lost the sight in one eye, everybody had to wear blinders on one eye to make them equal.
In the quest for equality, people walk around with weights on their legs or an arm tied behind their backs. That makes them equal to the cripples among them. They are braced, their backs forced into a curve, to make them equal to those with scoliosis. They have earplugs to make them equal to deaf people. You get the idea. Equality is the first value.
Vonnegut is dead. (Sometime soon, I'll be HIS equal.) But he was not against equality. He was against a narrow view of equality-- a NEGATIVE equality that makes people equal at the bottom rather than at the top.
I'll explain further: Imagine I have a gold pen. There are ten people sitting with me. We can make everyone equal in two ways. One is to give everyone else a gold pen. The other is to take away my pen. The former is a POSITIVE equality. The latter a NEGATIVE one.
The marriage equality act-- homo marriage-- is an example of NEGATIVE equality.
Right now, you can only get “free” health insurance if you're married to someone with paid insurance. You can only get hospital visitation rights, or child adoption rights if you're married. You can only file a joint tax return or get easy citizenship if you're married. You can only pass on your apartment to a spouse. Share veterans' discounts on medical care, education, and home loans with someone you're married to. You can only receive crime victims' recovery benefits if you're married to the victim (or if you are the victim.)
There are two ways of dealing with the inequality of laws related to marriage. NEGATIVE equality is to force more people into marriage and thereby strengthen the institution. The other is to get the government out of the marriage business completely and make no special privileges based on what should be a religious institution.
POSITIVEequality is to eliminate all marriage laws. Make all people-- married or not, homo, het or neither-- equal. Instead, homos decided to put blinders on the rest of us. Weigh down one leg to make us equal. So now New York has gay marriage. And insurance companies that used to insure “domestic partners,” now require marriage! The freedom to marry becomes the DUTY to marry, and with gay-marriage it's harder than ever to escape.
2011: I'm reading Razorcake, home to former MRR columnists and those who'd like to be. Amy Adoyzie is one of my favorites... a girl that doesn't act like one... until now.
Jeezus fuckin' Christ. She's writing about how punk rock boys make girls uncomfortable... You know how? By taking their shirts off. That's how.
When you take off your shirt in a hot, muggy basement show, you're not just trying to cool yourself off. You're saying something with your body and who you are. You're saying “I'm a dude and as a dude, I can take my shirt off in a room full of other people...” You're unknowingly asserting your dude-ness for all to see. You're saying, “Check me out. I'm a fucking dude.”
And you know what? That makes some people feel unsafe. Just because you think it's innocuous doesn't mean it is. Just because you don't agree that it makes people feel unsafe doesn't mean it doesn't. Put your fucking shirt on.
Fifteen years after Tribe 8 opens the door to a POSITIVE equality, we've got a girl here saying NOT that girls should be able to take their shirts off... but that boys shouldn't!
Just like the right to marry is actually the duty to marry... and increases inequality for those who choose not to. The right to comfort is the way to limit the freedom of others who choose to... to... show their tits.
In Europe, toplessness is the order of they day... for men and women. Alas, even in the punkrock world, this is not Europe.
Hey Amy, these are tits too! Instead of saying I shouldn't be free to take my shirt off-- you should be saying you should be free to take off yours. Instead of saying Cover up boys, you should be saying Take it off girls. Your freedom doesn't come from my repression. It comes from your own liberation.
-->That gives me an idea dept: The Texas Office of the Comptroller granted tax-exempt status to THE CURCH OF FREETHOUGHT, an "atheist church" in Texas. After an initial denial and run in with Americans United for Separation of Church and State, government officials backed down.
The Comptroller's original objection said if they granted the status it would lead to applications from "any wannabe cult who dresses up and parades down Sixth Street on Halloween."
Hmmm, dress-up anyone?
--> Where? dept: We all know that the locations of most phones can be tracked, either via their built in GPS devices or by triangulating the signals they bounce off the cellular towers. And not only is it possible to figure out where a phone has been, you can also get software or online services that will let you track the location of a phone in real time. You can keep tabs on your teenagers, other family members, employees, or someone you want to stalk. In addition to the location (as it moves), you can also find out how fast it's going.
One such service, which works with certain Blackberry, Windows Mobile and Android phones, is AccuTracking. Since it's probably illegal for me to say some hackers should get on 'em ASAP... I won't. But I can imagine posting some way you can attach a fake tracking chip to a stray cat or a street crazy. Attach a fake device to a hamster, and let it loose in the subway. Watch a panicky parent call the cops as their “child” runs down a subway tunnel in front of a raging train.
Not that I'd propose such a thing. Who me? Such a proposition is likely to be illegal.
-->Speaking of where dept:Gizmo.com reports that Google has a bunch of places that Google Maps won't show you. According to the site, most of the censored places look like imaging anomalies, rather than some big black bar with "CENSORED" written in large text.
You can see 18 of them at: tiny.cc/mapcensor. You can also ask Google what's up widdat?
-->Corporate humans vs Union humans: The Supreme Court ruled that corporations and unions are "humans" with the ability to fund candidates with no limits. The corporations go to the conservatives. The unions go to the liberals.
NOW do you get why so many Republican state governors are trying to break the unions? And there's a new law now in the House of Representatives. Republicans introduced bill HR 1135 that denies foodstamps to any family if a member is out on strike. How low can they go? Maybe I shouldn't ask.
-->For the good of the kids dept: THE UK Government says it's fighting “the early sexualization of children” by blocking internet pornography unless parents request it. The move is intended to ensure that children are not exposed to sex as a routine by-product of the internet.
Instead of using parental controls to stop access to pornography - so-called "opting out" - the tap will be turned off at the source. Adults will then have to "opt in."
More info at: http://tinyurl.com/UKpornban
-->It shudda been my parents dept: Landon & Anette Parris of Nashville pleaded guilty to hiring a stripper for their son's 16th birthday. They were sentenced to two years' probation and ordered to take “parenting classes.”
I say they should be TEACHING those classes.