Shepherd Smith
has it fuckin' right! Torture is a loser of an issue. It's a loser
on efficacy--it's good for extracting false confessions. It's a loser
on morals--how can we call our nation worth preserving if we do the same
thing as the regimes we despise? Republicans embrace the policy of
torture to their own peril.
So I thought this was an interesting question that came up. I was
disappointed that there were so few gay marriage supporters involved.
Here are some snippets.
So, I encourage you to consider joining me in propping up the liberal
side of the argument on Roland
S. Martin's facebook page. I know it may sound silly, but they
really do read these comments on CNN. Where else does your blogging and
tweeting and texting have the chance to fall on so many ears?
Even when groups opposing homosexuality have prevailed in
court, they have gone on to face other setbacks. The Boy Scouts of
America won a lawsuit in 2000 because it did not allow openly gay Scouts
or Scout leaders. Since then, some private charities have refused to
support the Scouts, and some local governments have yanked free use of
facilities and other benefits. In Philadelphia, the city is demanding
that the Scouts pay $200,000 in annual rent for a building that they had
been using rent-free. The dispute is in court (Salmon washingtonpost.com).
I love the tension that exists between the individual liberty to do as
one wishes and the individual liberty to not be coerced by others'
wishes. This example seems to express that but at a larger scale,
dealing with institutions rather than individuals. Here the Boy Scouts
got their wish to not allow gays in their institution, and that's fine:
they are a private institution. However, they had been relying on
public resources, a building the city of Philadelphia was providing.
Philadelphia rightly reasoned that if the Boy Scouts is a private
institution, not an institution dedicated to a public good, then it
ought to pay like any other private institution. It underscores the
point that you can't have your private discrimination and your public
resources. You have to choose. And it's just a beautiful back and
forth. I love the tension.
whiteycraft: see what you did?
cuckold: cbl what you did
cuckold: fuck you
cuckold: read what i write
cuckold: oh htis is a story
cuckold: all about al
cuckold: whose life got turned upside
cuckold: down
cuckold: i just got into one little fight
cuckold: a grey balsam
cuckold: a rich source of teakwood
cuckold: got my frosted tips caught in the dough roller
cuckold: blinking diamonds from my eyes
cuckold: a new dawn
cuckold: ten thousand eyeless angels
cuckold: c.n., bound of hand and foot
cuckold: inch worming on its belly
cuckold: across a plane of jagged glass
cuckold: it lifts its parched mouth
cuckold: it's neck a half-beard of glistening, pink crystalline glass shards
cuckold: more numerous than the peoples of the sino-indian subcontinents
cuckold: its black eyes are blinking sightlessly
cuckold: even so it turns its gaze blearily to the east
cuckold: a wagon rolls in the distance
cuckold: reducing crushed glass into powder
cuckold: with the weight of its load
cuckold: in the bed of the wagon 6 men lie on their backs
cuckold: moaning
cuckold: so emaciated are they that a big man could place his finger and
thumb in circumference about their thighs
cuckold: they too glisten
cuckold: but with light caught not in a pelt of jagged glass
cuckold: but in their downy lanugo
cuckold: in which no sweat beads
cuckold: and no tears have caught
cuckold: the sun is high and thin
cuckold: like an ugly dream from which one has recently awakened
cuckold: it is the yellow of its own reflection
cuckold: no frying egg
cuckold: nor daisy
cuckold: nor wolf's eye
cuckold: it wispily hangs, mute and imparting no judgement
cuckold: c.n. gasps and rests its head back into the glass
cuckold: it twists torturously
cuckold: reorienting itself towards the wagon
cuckold: and with a hiss of pain as a hundred thousand new shards of
glass pierce it
cuckold: begins to slither
cuckold: in the bed of the wagon
cuckold: two men are silent
cuckold: one is dead
cuckold: translucent and not visited by insects
cuckold: though countless thousands have assembled
cuckold: but have alighted
cuckold: silently
cuckold: on the edges of the wagon
cuckold: they are all facing the other silent man
cuckold: who is made of solid gold
cuckold: and on whose thin body
cuckold: one hundred priceless necklaces have been hung
cuckold: his expression a mask of hideous pain
cuckold: his eye sockets and snarling mouth
cuckold: full of gems and wicked looking charms made from precious metals
cuckold: his clawing hands extended to the sky
cuckold: are laden with ornate clasps and tarnished chains
cuckold: of precious things long lost
cuckold: his feet are golden stubs, bound in filthy rags
cuckold: the assembled carrion insects move in beautiful intricate patterns
cuckold: they lay eggs in old languages in the cracks and creases of the
faces of the men in the wagon
cuckold: the dead man remains pristine
cuckold: an enormous fly, with shriveled wings and mangled legs is borne
on the backs of hundreds of others
cuckold: it is deposited on the sunken chest of the dead man
cuckold: the other insects retreat from the body of the dead man in
orderly streams
cuckold: the immobile fly quakes from within the rippling movements
cuckold: its enormous abdomen hisses obscenely
cuckold: suddenly it returns to a natural looking shape
cuckold: and then the integument of the fly splits neatly
cuckold: and the halves of the animal slide up and away
cuckold: till they are crumpled nothing
cuckold: and are blown from the top of the small, o void stone they have
revealed
cuckold: the wagon comes to a halt
cuckold: c.n. wiggles and grunts as its twists across the plane of broken glass
cuckold: leaving a trail of disturbed glass shards
cuckold: and the infinitesimal drops of ruby blood, more an insinuation
than real proof of a wound
cuckold: as the hours pile upon themselves
cuckold: like corpses hurled into a common grave
cuckold: the sickly sun hardly seems to move
cuckold: its light accompanied by no concomittant warmth
cuckold: and so, c.n. does not sweat as it labours
cuckold: it wheezes horribly, its lungs having suffered from its
inhalation of thousands of microscopic shards lifted into the air by its
movements
cuckold: by and by he approaches the wagon
cuckold: the carrion insects, as if having reached an accord, rise into
flight in a moment
cuckold: their droning is almost blasphemous against the silence of the plain
cuckold: they land on c.n. and walk about
cuckold: taste its blood
cuckold: but never extend their mouthparts to feed
cuckold: c.n. caked with a mixture of his own blood and the crushed
bodies of insects
cuckold: reaches the left, rear wheel of the wagon
cuckold: blood does not so much pool as shadow the patch of grisly earth
it has chosen to rest on
cuckold: its wheezes are truly horrible
cuckold: the men in the wagon, sensing something new
cuckold: whisper horribly to one another
cuckold: what has come?
cuckold: is it a friend
cuckold: an enemy?
cuckold: how can they have any security against it?
cuckold: they cannot
cuckold: the dead man is jostled
cuckold: and the stone on his chest rolls and bounces
cuckold: it traces the edge of an enormous circle
cuckold: falls noiselessly through a hole a knot has left in the bed of
the wagon
cuckold: traces now a smaller circle
cuckold: and rolls against c.n.
cuckold: c.n. shrieks and recoils
cuckold: thrashing violently
cuckold: the men in the wagon recoil in surprise
cuckold: the eldest tears at his thin hair and squeezes tears too small
for gravity to drag across his downy cheek
cuckold: he toothlessly gasps a guttural "Muh"
cuckold: c.n. flips and twists
cuckold: doing further injury to itself
cuckold: eventually the sun begins to set
cuckold: and in that grand twilight
cuckold: the men of the wagon shake
cuckold: more from cold and hunger than form the stale fear of the
shrieking thrashing thing
cuckold: in the middle of the night
cuckold: a new moon casts no light onto the plain of glass
cuckold: once again silent
cuckold: in its throes of agony c.n. has trace out instructions, which
would appear black if there were any light to see by
cuckold: a continuous smear of a paste made from blood and crushed
insects reads:
cuckold: Hey Shane if you're gonna be a while I think I'm going to enjoy
a few pages of my book, let me know when you would like to play warcraft
cuckold: your pal
cuckold: Mike Van Der Slice
cuckold: the men in the wagon are all dead
cuckold: c.n. is motionless and cold, somehow immaculately clean
cuckold: and covered in an even layer of glass shards
cuckold: its eyes are open and staring at the black moon
cuckold: they too are pierced at a density of 1500 shards per square centimeter
cuckold: the insects have all departed
cuckold: fuck you
cuckold has left the game.
I have no willpower to get up, to make me rise, to do my stuff. I have no willpower and that's ok, today's a wasted day. Hi ho the dario, nothing ever bothers me. Hi ho the dario, lethargy is for me!
I now twitter. I know this may be upsetting for some, and I may lose friendships as a result of this relentless self-indulgence, but I just wanted you all to know the truth. Thank you for your understanding and compassion.
Superjail is awesome! My housemates and I watch it as a weeknight ritual. I watch it for the psychedelic flashbacks. Scott watches it satiate his violent urges, and Mike watches it to try to fit in. We want more superjail!
"I think you can have both," Mr Bush, who leaves office January 20, told ABC television, adding "You're getting me way out of my lane here. I'm just a simple president."
But "evolution is an interesting subject. I happen to believe that evolution doesn't fully explain the mystery of life," said the president, an outspoken Christian who often invokes God in his speeches.
"I think that God created the Earth, created the world; I think the creation of the world is so mysterious it requires something as large as an almighty and I don't think it's incompatible with the scientific proof that there is evolution," he told ABC television.
Asked whether the Bible was literally true, Mr Bush replied: "Probably not. No, I'm not a literalist, but I think you can learn a lot from it."
"The important lesson is 'God sent a son,'" he said. (telegraph.co.uk)
I was actually surprised that Bush holds a more sophisticated kind of theology and didn't go straight fundamentalist.
I'm very pleased to see this article by a creationist who is taking issue with the artificially evolved antennas made at NASA. You might wonder how it is that I could be pleased with any creationist writings. It's because they're fearful of what I am adamant about pursuing. If one can harness evolution and use it for engineering, that's a PR nightmare for creationists. And they are right to recognize it. To have them attack it now, at this early phase, gives me comfort that this idea is potent.
-Shane
p.s. This article rebuts the creationist article, if you're interested:
I wanted to express what I have intuited is your intent, but rather than relying on that assumption, I wanted to make it explicit. I hope to see you bring the government into the internet age. I want you to do for the government, what Apple did for computers. Apple made computers accessible to regular people. I want you to make the government accessible on the internet to regular people. Judging from the amazing sites of barackobama.com, change.gov, and especially your "Google for government" policy, you and your staff have the ideas and talent to pull this feat off.
I like to imagine back to a time when the White House lacked telephones. Some past president perhaps had to insist that a telephone system be installed into the White House. There may have been security concerns at the time, but eventually those details were worked out. I have read that there are security concerns about you having email. I hope that you and your staff are able to come to some agreeable arrangement that does not require that you abstain from email. I see you losing email access as a symbolic step backward but understand there may be other things of greater priority.
Thank you very much for your time. My hopes are with you.
The lab was equipped with all the pleasures a grad student could ask for. Fame and fortune, well, fame awaited the next laureate to come from these labs. Dr. Greg Lambert used to work here, Ms. Jena Sicer told herself. Jena felt more comfortable in the lab than most anywhere else. She handled the toxins, bacteria, and viruses with an ease that made some people uneasy. Often she'd spread jam and toast on the left side of her desk, while spreading pestilence and disease onto her bacterial friends on the right. All in the name of science.
Her eigth year was hopefully going to be her last. She had just one experiment left. The culmination of two years of research that should definitely secure her a doctorate, and hopefully some well earned recognition. She looked down on her work, her reflexes automatically working each of the bacterial populations. Her hands automatically spread the toxin onto her bacterial children in dish 2C. Something was wrong. What toxin is this? She examined the bottle. The markings had faded away. She became nervous. Oh god, what did I do? Two years of work!, she thought. She must just be getting nervous about defending her work. If the label has worn off, chances are the toxin is completely unviable. She laughed and breathed in a sigh of relief. And in that breath she inhaled, she became patient zero of Dr. Lambert's virus.
Dr. Lambert had done incredible work during his career. He had initiated the nascent field's recognition of how genetic engineering must have a code of ethics. His methods to initiate this were provocative. As a post-doc, he created a virus that illustrated in a joking kind of way what could happen with genetic engineering without safeguards. He took a regular cold virus, and added a couple specific receptors and a genetic payload. Playing the role of the egomanical genetic engineer, he added his DNA as the virus's payload. The receptors bound to one cell only at certain stages of its life cycle. Gena was to become its first human test subject.
Gena felt no affects at first. She carried on about her business as usual tending her bacteria. She thought she had had her close call since her populations seemed no worse for the wear. She defended her thesis and was celebrating her doctorate when she began to feel ill. Months went by and she began to swell. Her feet no longer fit in her shoes. She felt uncomfortable and depressed. She sniffled. Must be a cold or the flu she thought. Her symptoms became clear, concluding in her giving birth to Jason Sicer. Her bizarre case of immaculate conception became the norm as the virus spread throughout the population. An entire generation was fathered by Greg Lambert. Cycles of immunity and infection could be seen in the faces of children. Good years you'd see less of Lambert's big nose on kids' faces. It effectively wiped out most human genetic diversity. Jena had brought about the downfall of homo sapien and spawned a new species homo gregus.
I read your interview on salon.com titled, “Can’t Darwin and God get along?” I thought your answers were fascinating, especially your answer regarding meaning. It challenged me because I had expected that if there was a God, *poof* the problem of meaning went away, and your answer revealed a much more subtle consideration than I was applying. I thank you for that.
I was also challenged by what you said about the all-encompassing materialism that people like Richard Dawkins seem to embrace. The fact that things like experience and consciousness do not have a good solution in a materialistic world that consists of particles and forces, which is not to say that it’s not possible but that we don’t understand how it is possible, or more disturbingly for me if it even is possible.
I am an atheist, but I am fascinated by religion. Among my religious friends, my interest comes off as perhaps academic hopefully not condescending. Among my atheistic friends, they probably wonder why I have an interest at all. I often feel at odds with either end of the spectrum, and I think I felt maybe a kinship with you in that regard.
I’ve included an essay of mine titled, “Genesis: An Evolutionary Interpretation.” It’s an essay I don’t quite know whom to exhibit it to mainly for the reasons I mentioned above, but seeing as you seem to straddle both sides as I do I thought you might enjoy it.
Thank you for your time and the thought provoking interview.
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