Please Vote. Please.

Us on the left may be unhappy with 100% of what's been done. We may be disillusioned with a cavalcade of promises that have yet to be fulfilled. But if we are silent, we let them win. We let Republicans take Congress.

And that is much, much worse than what we have now.



So vote. Tell your friends, warn your families: if Republicans win in November, we all lose.

Aaaaaahhh! Nutjobs!

A sampling of nutters at Glenn Beckology SuperSaviour Amalgamachine.



Thought 1: Hahaha!
Thought 2: OMG these are real Americans, AM Dial myrmidons, and they vote.

*brain explodes*

Movie Review: I Don't Hate Las Vegas Anymore

Saw this mess on IFC last night and had to watch it. The website says it better than I remember the DVR synopsis:

I Don't Hate Las Vegas Anymore is a real-life documentary comedy about a filmmaker who takes a road trip to Las Vegas with his father and half-brother in an attempt to prove the existence of God. He posits that if God exists, and if God is indeed omniscient, omnipotent and omnibenevolent, then all the filmmaker has to do is roll the camera and let God direct the movie. But the movie isn't going in the direction the filmmaker would like, and so the filmmaker attempts to force God's hand by trying to persuade his father and half-brother to take Ecstasy with him. When they refuse, things quickly start to unravel.

Sounds a little bit fun, huh? Crazy, even! No, not so much.

Spoilers abound, so if you're actually thinking of seeing this, stop reading.

Here's not just the plot but the experience of watching this film - with bullets!

• Filmmaker whines and pines and is unsteady on his project for 10 minutes
• Whining and complaining about driving from a bad back-seat angle for 15 minutes
• Filmmaker whines at his dad for 30 minutes to take the ecstacy
• Filmmaker takes the ecstacy alone
• Filmmaker gets high
• Filmmaker argues with Dad more to find he's taken the ecstacy
• 15 minutes of meaningful conversation over double-exposed, upside-down film
• Dad lays down then leaves to gamble
• Filmmaker whines more
• Filmmaker's sound chick apparently disappeared because she's an alcoholic
• Confessionals where everyone's a fucking mess for staying up all night and half-brother is a dick about how bad the movie's going to suck
• Unnecessary exposition at the end by Filmmaker rehashing the alcoholic sound chick and some family stuff
• Everything above tinged by "God loves us and wants to make this happen."

Terrible, terrible, terrible. Stay away. Do not want.

And yet if shit like this can get on IFC, my movie-making dreams may come true. At least on cable.

I Need You

(I originally heard this song as a cover and they used "paper doll" instead of "baby doll." Annie is queen, so I won't argue, but I like the lyrical change better.)

Eurythmics - I Need You

I need you to pin me down
Just for one frozen moment.
I need someone to pin me down
So I can live in torment.
I need you to really feel
The twist of my back breaking
I need someone to listen
To the ecstacy I'm faking.
I need you you you

I need you to catch each breath
That issues from my lips
I need someone to crack my skull
I need someone to kiss.
So hold me now
I'll make pretend
That I won't ever fall
Oh hold me down
I'm gonna be your baby doll

I need you you you...
Is it you I really need?
I do I do I do
I really do
I need you...

The Tea Party Debacle

I always found it funny that the Tea Party is so named because none of those people would ever drink tea; it's European and elitist. By chance, I'm sipping on a Twisted Tea right now. How apropos.

But on to my post.

The Republican Party is in a bad way right now. I just read Think Progress's article on the Mike Castle v. Christine O'Donnell primary. And it's bad mojo. Republicans supporting Castle are knocking down O'Donnell as "dishonest." But if she wins, what do they do? Well, flip-flop, of course, but I don't think the right gets it (or maybe they do) that they've created a monster of a schism in both the party and their supporters.

The "Tea Party" is not really a "party" so to speak. Or maybe they are. They've already established a congressional caucus. That's even worse news.

In a year where lots of people don't like our president in a realm of dissent from "He didn't do enough" (left) to "Socialist!" to "Death panels" to "Um, he's black and well, we call him a socialist cause we can't say nigger and get away with it", the Republicans are fostering what should be a clear win of several seats in November. But they botched it up. The right created the Tea Party.

And I don't even think folks at the head of the Tea Party understand their followers. Some are Republicans who see the Tea as an extension of themselves. Some are hard-right goons drinking the Beckbaughity tea who think everything is wrong with every part of our government. And I'm guessing many are just confused. What was supposed to be a revitalization and back to basics movement is fracturing the right in many sordid ways.

Republicans are calling this year "The year of the woman" but - like technology and humor - don't quite pick up on the nuances of language when it comes to civil rights or equality. I got an email the other day from the righties about "The Right Woman to Be in Congress." So ...are all the rest wrong? And if this is the year of the woman, then why are the most prominent women on the right - Angle, Bachmann, Palin - either ignorant or completely batshit crazy?

They are confusing the base and doing nothing to sort it out. That is, if they know who their base is. Sure, there are plenty of Americans who will vote Repub no matter what, but not all. But when you're pushing a Ministry of NO on an administration with no real answers except "Wrong!" then the few thinkers on the right start wondering what the actual platform is. And Republicans specifically announced they would not reveal that until September because it might be an issue in elections. Um, shouldn't it?

The Republicans have no game. Even worse, they're going through some fierce infighting, like a giant, bastard cousin of what happened when Palin hijacked the McCain campaign.

I, for one, am pleased.

And with no end in sight, I'm pushing a Palin-Bachmann ticket for 2012. We'll have Obama vying for term 2, and if Clinton seals the Mideast deal, her too. I'll still vote for Kooch if he runs again. But that's a solid Democratic front. And any American would take that over stupid insanity.

Then again, I guess I'm relying on the American people to choose wisely.

The Music Done Me In

I cry a little more than I used to. But one of the things that I've noticed over the past few years is that music makes all the difference; in every show you might watch, the plot may be stirring, the story may touch a base in your soul, and the connection you make to it may be monumental. But when you get to the end of the tale, the end of the network-sanctioned narrative, there's something that can touch you in the denouement. And that's music.

I noticed it first a few years ago in the final montage minutes of ER. "The story's not that great so why am I weepy?" Again in that episode of West Wing with Mark Harmon as the Secret Service agent. Again in any episode of Cold Case. "I don't care about these people really, so why am I battening down the hatches so I don't drop into throes of sobbing during the last 3 minutes of resolution?"

It was the music.

The music massages the little bits you've collected during the show or movie, puts them all together, works as the glue of emotion, the background of magic that makes that story progress or wrap up or really do something more than just tell a tale.

So: Thank you to every single editor and producer who has added some great bit of music to the movie or the show. You made it happen. And I wept. Thank you.

Boobs on Mars

Okay, so it's just the areola.

(seriously though, awesome new Mars images here)

Musical, Personality Watershed

So aside from that other watershed moment that I decided to bury prematurely in the archives, here's a little something from my past.

One day in 9th grade I was wandering through Camelot Music (FYE now), a few bucks burning a hole in my pocket with my friend Annette, 3 years my senior. I'd been listening to different kind of music, was just starting to get into my own groove, and I was presented with a choice. I only had enough money for one CD, and I was agonizing between two:





I hemmed and hawed and backed and forthed for almost 20 minutes before making my decision, heavily influenced by Annette's patience level: Nine Inch Nails it would be.

And it changed my life.

I'm not saying I wouldn't have eventually bought that album if I'd picked Violent Femmes, but I see that single choice as an enormous formative decision in my young life. Pretty Hate Machine led to musical offshoots making me aware of Ministry, Love and Rockets (& Bauhaus), Sisters of Mercy, Skinny Puppy, etc., and - honestly - allowed me to wallow in the angst of my soul just like every high school kid should.

I've gone much more indie and singer/songwriter, but still love that music and go through moods where nothing else will do but to scream my heart out. Heck, I think I'm going to the Legendary Pink Dots show in Columbus next month.

So thanks Annette. That one time, that one day, you nudged me in what I see now as the only right direction. And I'm who I am today because of it.

Say Hi to the Wonderful N00bs!

Looks like I keep picking them up.



Yum!

So everyone say hello to:
Kay at Kay's Thinking Cap
Badger at Vienna for Dummies
Ashley at Beyond Passing Time
The Domestic Minx
Nikkolas at Skeptical Eye
Zaki's Corner
Geof at Enter the Man-Cave
...and Josh, who doesn't have a blog, but likes to read others'.

Cheers to all!

Beckatopia: The Stupid on Saturday

I was tuned in to Glenn Beck's masturbatory mess on Saturday morning, once I was able to discern that it was only being fully covered by C-SPAN.

(NOTE: If you'd like to watch it in its 3-hour entirety for free, hit C-SPAN. Glenn is using his radio program to shuck his paid, premium service just to hear the damn thing. So much for being about the people.)

The first fifteen minutes began with Glenn talking about Manifest Destiny, Divine Providence, and carting out:

• A man, pastor, apparently direct descendant of the pilgrims who landed on Plymouth Rock
• A man and woman, apparently direct descendants of the Native Americans who greeted those pilgrims on our eastern shores.
• A Jew.

So the pastor was clad in modern garb, you know: like a suit. And the Native Americans were dressed like Disney's "Pocahontas." And the Rabbi? Suit and all, but why was he there?

So the Christian got the mic first and started wailing into it about the "One True God" of Jesus Christ.

I had to change the channel. Why this fable of the Thanksgiving story? How'd they get these Native Americans to do the Indian Uncle Tom costume getup for a rally where most of the assholes in the audience think Mexicans are foreigners? Why the Jewish guy? Why the screaming of the Christian to immediately ostracize any form of unification, including Glenn's Mormonism? Where was the representation of the Chinese, Vikings, and Philippine visitors to the USA who were here before Columbus and the pilgrims?

But you know I had to go back; I like punishment like that.

So I went back to hear Glenn pontificate and worship himself, Sarah Palin blabber incoherently, and listen to the token African Americans appear as Glenn himself hijacked MLK Jr.'s Dream Day while saying he wasn't hijacking it while playing film and quoting MLK Jr. and forgetting repeatedly to use the "Jr." to discuss him.

And you know he talks to God. You may have heard the jokes, but Glenn admittedly, specifically, speaks to God. I'm guessing it's the Mormon God passing himself off as the Christian God, but hey, that's just me. He talked about Moses and the Burning Bush, saying this event was everyone's burning bush moment, to get back to God.

And Glenn reinvented uselessness on Saturday by talking about the original Purple Heart medals, how they stood for merit, and then inventing his own medals for those pictures of the Founding Fathers that God had him paint: Faith, Hope, and Charity. And Hope went to a Dominican Republic baseball player Albert Pujols because immigrants are OK when they can play ball and even start charities.

Wait a second, what would happen if an Iranian moved here and started a charity? Holy shit!

Eventually, Mrs. Shambles cut me off about noon because it was getting too tiresome. Too horrid. Too terrifying.


FOLLOW-UP:

Reports from the rally range the attendees from 80,000 to 600,000. That was the serious report from CNN on Monday.

Glenn Beck, on Monday, in an apparent bid to knock down claims that he's a fear-mongering media whore, said that Saturday's true message was to "Get behind the 'Shield of God'" because it's time to say bye-bye to the world as we know it; the end is a-comin'. He again fake cried.

Right wing nutters all over in the last 2 days have used a very brief mention of Beck's rally with no conformable numbers to declare how "amazed" they are, that they've never seen organization of conservatives like this, etc., etc., etc.

The sad truth, conservatives, is that this was not you. It was the Tea Party. And you and them are not the same, except in perhaps a shared hatred towards minorities and immigrants. But that's another post.


SO - while you do a great spin on Mormon O'Beckerson's Scattershot Akimbo Vague Religion Rally, you have already lost. See you in November.

Facebook Marijuana - I Like Weed!

I'm conflicted.

I got an email in my inbox from Firedoglake saying the following:

Marijuana legalization has been censored by Facebook.
Facebook just banned our ads that support marijuana legalization. The social networking site says we can no longer advertise our campaign for marijuana legalization using our logo, which has a pot leaf.

We need to fight back against Facebook's censorship. Can you sign our petition protesting Facebook's unfair policy against legalization ads? We'll send the petition to Facebook and tell the media about the site's censorship of a popular political issue.

I'm as liberal as they get. I love Firedoglake. While I hardly ever smoke anymore, I love me some marijuana. And I am wholeheartedly, 100% behind any legalization efforts. Legalize it already!

But Firedoglake, I'm going to have to pass on this one. See, I've got Irish Dancer here at home. She's 14. And her and all her friends and kids much younger than her use Facebook every day.

She knows that marijuana is not addictive and not the devil because we're open as parents about the effects of drugs. She's also aware that marijuana use during teen years can negatively affect developing cognition. But that's a discussion for us to have with her as parents, and there are many more kids out there without that talk, without that openness, who are ignorant on the topic.

Our ads show marijuana leaves as part of a political campaign to change public policy. It's like telling a political candidate for office that it's unacceptable to show the candidate's face in advertising.

Hold the fucking bus, Gus. Irish Dancer could tell you that's a really shitty analogy. Here's a better one: Popping a marijuana leaf up on Facebook is like popping a leaf up in a loud, crowded theater before the premiere of Eclipse; it will go unnoticed by many, but subconsciously it'll be there. And that theater's full of kids.

And the point of the campaign is to change the fact that it's still illegal. I fully support legalization, but not with ads on Facebook. And when we're successful and we get it legalized, give me a call and we'll smoke a j and laugh about that time I was a dick 'cause I've got a kid. :)

Phase Dreaming?

I didn't do any research on this, but have you ever had a night of sleep like a surreal nightmare that bled into the real world and vice versa all night long? And no matter how awake you got in the middle of the night you couldn't break it? Yeah, weird.

(Note: I had one night when I woke at 5 or 6 and my nightlight was out and I saw angels - dozens of them, about 9 inches tall - floating around the room. Earliest memory. But I don't consider this the same thing.)

(Note 2: This is kinda long an rambling; don't feel bad to skip it, though it's fucking weird.)



The first time I remember experiencing this, I was probably 10 or so and my dad took me to see a Kent State basketball game. First basketball game I'd ever been to. And it was cool: the cheering, the screaming, the little pom-pom on a stick we got when we entered.

And then I got home and tried to get to bed and a little while later awoke - in the game. It wasn't anything as rational as if I were a player or in the audience, but all at the same time. My top bunk was simultaneously the court and the arena and the few square yards a player was making a jump shot. I was awake, but aware of the vivid, immersive dream I'd just awoken from - and could not let go of. I audibly heard the echoes of of the crowd and the squeaks on the court and all the chaos of noise and - if I remember correctly - caught visual glimpses. I closed my eyes, curled up, tried to make the insanity of it disappear. Then I'd fall into the same dream, then wake up. 3-5 times in one night, always the same. Once or twice I walked out of the room, to the hallway, the bathroom, thinking it would help. It didn't.

And the next day I was fine.

About a year later, I had another phase dream, but much more terrifying because it was so quiet. Imagine those "graboids" from Tremors, but about 12 feet fat and 80 feet long. Now imagine there are thousands of them, dead, rows, stacked 2-3 high on the right and left like hot dogs on a plate, ends pointed at you. Okay, I'll draw a shitty picture.



I tend to stay down the middle, but sometimes, climb the dead husks, which are huge, smelly, dripping, decaying, and covered by ash like everything else. The rows go on forever. This was about 2 years before the movie Tremors came out.

And I'd wake up and still see it and try just to go back to sleep, but it was the same dream, except this one was paired with something so abstract I cannot draw it accurately (even poorly). I can only describe it as a blue, wooden-plank swing going back and forth, back and forth, with some association with the number 1, a penny, and water. Those two were always together, one or the other, and they ran multiple evenings in my childhood around there. I'd wake up and sit in the hallway for hours, not wanting to wake my parents - because what do you say? "Some abstract concept I can't even describe in words is following me from my dreams." - but never being able to shake the phasing of it during the evening hours.

Eventually, I'd fall asleep long enough and the morning would come and it would be gone.

And I haven't had that - maybe vaguely remember once - since that time, about 20 years ago.


So I'm reminded about all this because of last night. I had a series of dreams which, in no particular order, happened like this:

I'm in a high end comic shop and am pushed through a Victorian book to a medium-sized dark mansion full of puzzles controlled by a young girl, probably 11, angry and demonic. I'm made to study the book and run errands to find these things while her younger sister - probably 4 - bounces around excited she has a playmate. Only her younger sister is actually a cracked-faced porcelain doll and I think "I've got to get out of here." I recall escaping and hugging the proprietor of the shop.

I'm at a camping retreat where I'm hanging out with (either or) my brother / best HS friend, and we're with a family that's kind of familiar and I keep panicking because I need to leave and need to go and the family keeps making things more comfortable and making time disappear and I see what they're doing in keeping me there, offering us drinks, relaxation, and it shouldn't be malicious, but it's looking that way which merges into...

I'm hanging out with my brother in a garage / junkyard and this guy is hanging out with us - skinny, weasely guy and he wants us there, keeps threatening us with a knife or something and at one point he goes to check something out and I grab my brother's arm and say "Run!"

I'm a car and sometimes a person driving/walking an odd concrete path under a dilapidated bridge several stories above us, water everywhere, very wind-y with juttings of natural rock coming up to mess up the path. Two men - mid 50's - ahead of me look back and say "it's something, huh?" and I gun it, almost running into a rock. "Woah," one of them says. "Take your time. You want to go that way." And I turn and move to the dock to be with my extended family and my cousin is on a boat passing us and I think "Good for him" while the rest of the family is sad he's not coming with us.

It's Christmas and there should be presents - are there presents? - but it's old carpet and damp and stale everywhere and where is everyone?

And in between an sometimes interrupting those phases, I would awake, and I was still there, still hearing the people, still hearing the noises, and wanting to shake it, but not really aware that I could. I honestly could've gotten up and walked to the bathroom and turned on the light and splashed my face. But part of me didn't know I could and part of me was afraid of leaving the bed.

And then it was morning and the alarm went off and the bits of sleep wore off and I got up and made coffee for the day.

But even then I had this lingering fog. Obviously, it allowed me to remember bits of several dreams. And I think it went away. For now, I guess.

So, um, anyone read this far and ever experience or hear of something like this?

Tea-Baggin' Football Coach Gets Sacked

Bryan Glover got fired. See, he was a 26-year old middle school football coach with mediocre aspirations as a singer/songwriter. So when he wrote a song about how Obama was awful and Republicans will take back the country in November and fix it all (so short their memories), he did what every sane person would do: send it to every person on your "personal email list." This included parents of kids he coached. D'oh!

Now, as with most shoddy right wing "journalism," none of the relevant questions were being addressed: Was he using his school account? Were the contacts in his personal list procured as a professional? Does anybody with any sense or knowledge of etiquette really do that (sorry Mom)? Why does he not understand that when you're a teacher/coach, you're a teacher/coach all the time?

Long story short: they canned him because a handful of parents went batshit. I don't know that they should have, but that's what happened.

When it comes to the GOP USA article above, their claim is that the liberal parents' claim was one of racism. I don't believe that. There's nothing in the song lyrics that points to race per se. However, the last lines of the song:

When we’re holding the hammer
Every one of them looks like a nail

I can understand mid-level understanding of simile and metaphor, but when you spend a whole song talking about how the hammer represents misguided and clumsy policies, getting ahold of the hammer does not empower you, but makes you subject to the same errors as your predecessors. Okay, so in that respect the song is accurate.

But this last line plainly incites the same Beck-esque language of violence reflected in oft-used words like "reload" and "open season on Dems." As represented by a handful of whacked-out "isolated incidents," this violence is not figurative but literal. And that prevalence is becoming ever-increasingly dangerous.

Sidenote: the comments on the story? Typical: He should sue the hell out of the school, join the Tea Party, open the Hannity Freedom Concert with his one song and then run for office (and presumably fail miserably).

Hannity-Limbaugh Muslim Gangbang

No, it's actually uglier than it sounds. Aside from Rush's lying comment about Bush living in "a shack" in Crawford, TX, every second I heard of his show today was discussing the poll saying almost 20% of Americans think Obama is a Muslim.

And the discussion proceeded as you might think: "Here's the poll." "Why do people think this?" "Let's take some callers who will say they knew it all along." "Allow me to interject some comments with Muslim undertones targeted at Obama."

[You freak, you fraud, you moral disaster of a human being: It is because of YOU and the other asshats on right wing talk radio and FOX that people ignorant enough to eat your daily digest like eager baby seagulls aching to shit all over the truth believe this madness. Our president is a practicing Christian yet almost 20% (much higher for Repubtards) of Americans are ignorant - NO, not ignorant, but suckered, believing the implication and lie of the simple fact of his (and his family's) religion is NOT Muslim. And they'll happily do it because everyone they listen to with their wide eyes and loaded guns believes it because YOU spout it and because he's the "other" and they don't want to hate him because he's black (even though they really kinda do) and YOU drive that fucking bus! You! And you're on the air talking about it like you're not part of it, not the goddamned REASON for the numbers?

There's a special place in hell for you.]

Now, repeat everything in brackets but as addressing Glenn Beck, Sean Hannity, Mark Levin, Michael Savage, etc. each, individually.

End transmission.


UPDATE: I'm not sure how this Examiner hack Byron York gets the label "Chief Political Correspondent," but he says it's all Obama's fault. After all, he's often "heading out to play golf or basketball on Sunday mornings."

So if you're not in church every single Sunday morning it's not that you're just skipping out on church, it's not that you're not as devout a Christian as people think you should be, it's not that you're secretly Jewish or a Hindu or Buddhist. No, it obviously means all the lies and misinformation about you secretly being a Muslim are true.

Byron, you're part of the problem, either purposefully or because of a lack of basic intelligence.

In Short: What, Rush Lie?

I just got to listen to some TIA-inducing Limbaugh in the car today and was still stunned that I can still be stunned by Rush giving fraud a living voice.

Asshat was commenting on How many vacations Obama was taking and then feigned outrage at the obvious liberal retort: Bush did it too. But, Rush retorts, Bush's vacations were always working vacations, and he retreated to "a shack" in Crawford.

Two clarifications:

1. Dubya, during his presidency, spent 487 days at Camp David and all or part of 490 days at his Crawford Ranch. 977 vacation days divided by 4 years (+ 2 leap days) will show you George W. Bush was "on vacation" 33.4% of his entire presidency. Now where can I get a job that offers 4 months a year of paid vacation?

2. Crawford Ranch is a 1,500+ acre river-bordering property that was reportedly acquired for $1.2 million - and then Bush built a custom-designed, 4,000 square foot house. Anyone who would call that a shack has a severely retarded understanding of wealth and what the common American considers normal. Oh yeah, it's Rush we're talking about.

Mosque in Short: Constitution!

The Framers or Founding Fathers found it completely appropriate to guarantee all Americans the right to freedom of religion. There was no asterisk.

Hell, freedom of religion predates even the Constitution. Amendment 1, however, reads:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

And that Amendment, like many others, is there for a very specific reason: to guarantee the rights of the minority in light of a majority who disagrees with that right. Hell, the Village of Skokie, IL (60% Jewish) got punked on their sensibilities because it was dwarfed by the Nazis to march in their town - so said the Supreme Court.

The survivors and those who lost loved ones are split. New York is split. But it is simply an issue of Constitutional law. And when it comes to Constitutional law, the Right is all about interpreting things in a new and creative way with supporting documents that are not the Constitution. But when it comes to the direct wording of the Constitution itself, they're at a loss.

This is a straw man, a "patriotic" pissing contest in the lead to an election. Mosques already exist 4 and 12 blocks from "sacred ground" - strip clubs and bookies and sex shops abound in that area as well.

And as Justin Mustian put it, "In fairness, we've been building 'ground zeros' near Iraqi mosques since March 2003."

I think this is a band of rabid conservatives, grasping onto whatever they can because they have no platform or ideas of their own. Their mantra since Obama was elected has been "Obama, you been bad!" (Goonies reference) And they've had nothing else to work with because they've spent every last breath on killing progress as opposed to creating it, killing legislation (that would be good for them and their constituents!) as opposed to proposing other ideas, and just drinking more and more Kool-Aid from the Right end of the AM band with the sole purpose of pissing on a black man from atop their mansions.

I'll deal with the "other"-ing of Obama in a different post. But be aware: The right has successfully positioned our president as a Muslim terrorist, and millions of Americans religiously feed on that tripe. And they have guns.

God bless America.

Juggalo Season Again!?

You may recall this post and video from last year around this time. Yes, that's correct: it's Juggalo Season. Again.

For those of you way out of the loop and not willing to click, Juggalos are a social scene wrapped around the music of hip-hop group Insane Clown Posse. They drink Faygo and some paint their faces like clowns. Scary clowns.

Well, at the just-past Gathering of the Juggalos this year, Tila Tequila (who apparently sings?!) decided to lay her rhythms on the Juggalos. They did not like it and pelted her with bottles and rocks, then chasing her to her trailer, which they rocked and broke out windows.



Oh, and for the record, they fucked up Method Man too :(

Ah, Juggalos.


UPDATE: From AV Club - "Excessive makeup, grating voices, oversharing of all things gross: The Kardashians are the new Juggalos."

Ah, Kardashians.

Misguided Celebration: Dee Snider

A town in NE Ohio will be renaming itself for one day to celebrate Dee Snider.



Will they be celebrating by showing Strangeland 24-hours straight at the local cinema?

Because I'm so Chipper These Days

via PostSecret.

Christian Tool

And I don't mean Tool like the band.




I prefer the Marilyn Manson Mashup: