Posts tagged ‘stupidity’

September 16, 2010

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

by d
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937 film)

Image via Wikipedia

Once upon a time, I was only eight years old. As it is wont to do, Disney re-re-re-re-re-re-re-released Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs to theaters. Naturally, we went to see it, my mother, my friend Yolanda, and I. I don’t remember why we went, I suppose it was just the thing to do. It wasn’t available on video, so it probably had the feel of something we’d better do now, while we were young enough to enjoy it.

I was only eight, but I was not impressed. I remember leaving the theater absolutely flabbergasted. What, I wanted to know, was that?!

It was a film well past its prime–yet it is still hailed as one of the best movies of all time. I will contend unto my death that ‘best’ and ‘classic’ are not the same as ‘significant.’ It deserves a place in history (it’s been added the National Film Registry), as it was the first full-length animation, ever, and the success and money it generated enabled Walt Disney to expand his studios.

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September 16, 2010

The Maid and the Driver

by f

from freemeditation.com

My mother has enough of the craziness and retreats upstairs early. I follow her, because I long for a nap. But my mother looks like she’s got one of her excellent nuggets of gossip. No matter how tired I am, I am always in the mood for a good piece of gossip.

We lie down together on the bed upstairs — I’m in love with the blue ridged bedsheets — and my mother says,

I’m so tired.

What now? I ask.

(I hope she gets to the point soon, because this mattress is the most wonderful thing I’ve ever experienced and these sheets make it look like I’m in the middle of the ocean.)

The maid? my mother starts.

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September 4, 2010

Secret Life: Teenagers Are Thick

by d

from ABC Family

Subterfuge continues to ogle the indulgent wreck that is Secret Life of the American Teenager.

I missed writing up the last episode or two. First because it actually didn’t upset me, and then because I was so relieved, I stopped caring. Heh. Funny how that works.

Honestly, I now get a feeling of dread every time I see the show pop up on my TiVo list. Oh god, I think, What vile lunacy are they going to inflict on me now? This is in sharp contrast from Season One, when the show was a guilty pleasure I made time to watch. I enjoyed the fantasy train wreck, though I can’t really pinpoint why. A good deal of it had to do with the lineup of characters. But then everyone started getting tangled up with EVERYONE else, and now it’s a genuine soap opera, with complete assholery going unpunished. (I’m look at you, Reuben.)

I also need to write something about the other ABC Family shows airing now. But before I get to that, here’s this one.

What I Didn’t Write About Last Time

I’m still kind of reeling from Grace’s mom calling oral sex “gateway sex.” “It’s sex that leads to other sex!” Hilarity. She’s right, but it’s a hilarious way to put it. I’m even more amused by how freaked out she looked.

Plus, Ben gave Adrian a sort of promise ring, supposedly a real gem stone the size of someone’s eye. You can be sure that this jewel will be pawned off at some point in the future to fund something important. Misunderstandings and betrayal will ensue.

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August 17, 2010

Bridezilla Alert. Warning: Don’t Make Sudden Movements.

by f

from set2music.wordpress.com

I’m in a Starbucks right now, enjoying a (surprisingly) good roasted vegetable panini. Sitting at the table across from me, is a bridezilla. Her husband-to-be, a wedding planner, and the mother of the bride surround her on each side of the square table, their bodies partially obstructed by thick binders. These binders are full of wedding dresses, table arrangements, and pictures of potential wedding locations.

“What do you think of that one?” Bridezilla asks. Her voice is flat and nasal. She reminds me of the obnoxious girls from my high school class.

Hubby to be isn’t paying attention. Instead, he pays attention to his Blackberry. He wonders when, for the love of God, is this woman was going to shut up, already. My heart goes out to the poor man.

She nudges him sharply.

“I said,” she says, “pay attention.”

“Oh,” he mumbles.

The planner turns the pages from across the table and the bridezilla is caught in paroxysms of pleasure. I’m surprised she’s not having an orgasm at the table.

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August 6, 2010

Straight-flight

by f

from flickr user jakemohan

Every time I read Mrs. Wood over at The Thinking Housewife, I tell myself I won’t respond no matter how outrageous her posts are. I don’t want to give this woman hits. I don’t want to give her pingbacks, and I don’t want to give her publicity.

Then I read this, and my resolution vanishes.

James M, a reader, asks the Thinking Housewife whether or not he should accept a gift stroller from his neighbors.

They recently made a quite neighborly and friendly gesture towards us, offering to give us their stroller (they have an adopted little boy who is now in kindergarten). They said their boy had outgrown it and they did not have any friends with children […]. My wife was not around when they made this offer so I told them I appreciated their offer very much (I did) and that I would talk to her about it and get back with them.

So what is the problem with this gift? The neighbors are lesbians. What follows is some of the most poisonous thinking I’ve ever read on the Internet. The Thinking Housewife tells him not to take the stroller. Then, in the most careful language possible, she counsels James against allowing his family — and child — to associate with the kind neighbors.

The bigger question is how to handle the matter of your daughter playing with the children of lesbians if you do continue to live in this neighborhood. This is a serious and delicate matter. I think you should let her play with their children while obviously not encouraging the relationships and arranging things so they play at your house not the neighbors’ house. […]

I’m not really satisfied with this answer to you but I don’t know what else to say. This is a very abnormal situation for you and your family. It seems there’s no completely healthy way to raise children in the company of pseudo-families and homosexuals.

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July 20, 2010

Secret Life: The stupid makes my head hurt.

by d

Subterfuge reviews the ongoing saga of teen pregnancies that is ABC Family‘s The Secret Life of the American Teenager. Season 3, episode 7, “New York, New York.”

WHY, Secret Life, WHY are you doing this to me? Why am I still watching!? Because every episode ends with a question I want answered. So I sit through the rest of the garbage, get pissed, and am tantalized by the next tiny piece of the puzzle.

I’m going to TRY to see the season through. No promises. (If you would like to volunteer to blog about Secret Life for us, please, please speak up.)

Whew. Ok. Items of Note for this episode…

Adrian will cut off her nose to spite her ex-boyfriend

Attention, everyone! Attention! Yes, I’m having a baby. And I don’t care who knows about it or what you have to say about it. Oh, and it’s Ben’s.

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July 18, 2010

An Online Meltdown

by f

via Photobucket

How’s this for a confessional? I fucked up today.

This is how:

Feministe.us has an excellent Sunday opportunity called “Self-Promotion Sundays.” On Self-Promotion Sundays, various feminist bloggers use Feministe’s comments thread to highlight a post from that week. I wanted to promote certain posts from Subterfuge on Feministe.

You’d think leaving a simple comment would be an easy thing to do, right?

Not if you’re me.

I feel nervous picking up the phone to call people. I can’t write a simple email. Everything I do contains a mistake.

When I play the piano I’m controlling an incredible moving organism. This entails that I have absolute control over my every motor function. I can’t do it. I always remember how complicated the task is and I mess up. One finger deviates. The melody falls apart. I stare, frozen, at the keyboard, and don’t know what to do.

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July 17, 2010

Stealth Friends

by f

Flickr, via SpecialKRB

So my period’s here a week early. I found this out in a Barnes and Noble bathroom, and I am thoroughly unprepared.

The pain is crippling, as it often is on my first day. I can barely move.

I’m bleeding straight into my underwear. Since it’s a week early I have no backup plan, so I have no spare napkins. The only thing I’m aware of is that I’m surrounded by books and I can’t read them. My ears are suddenly throbbing with pain.

Nobody picks up their phone. I call W, no response. My father has gone to some colleague’s daughter’s wedding reception so he’s left me here at this bookstore, which is part of a larger — but not large — mall of wealthy stores.

I know that none of these places carry feminine hygiene products, but I try anyway. The Barnes and Nobles has a maxi pad machine, but the machine is broken and the pads either stolen or never there. I don’t know which is worse. I try every single fucking bathroom in the mall. From the useless store that sells clothes for total sticks, to the other useless store that … well, you know. Try the toy store,  the fish restaurant,  the place that sells chocolates and antique furniture.

And finally, when I am desperate, I go to the movie theater. They have a machine! And yes, they sell … tampons. I have to go to the ticket booth and ask for a dollar’s worth of change. Thankfully, they give it to me.

What I want to know is, why can’t more stores carry these options? What are women to do when they have such accidents? Why can’t bathrooms have these machines available? It should not be this hard to find appropriate means to defend oneself from total humiliation at the hands of bloody jeans.

*

So, as a result of today:

(Frantic) Calls to my father: 25. Calls to W: 20. Times I throw up in a public toilet: 2. Number of minutes I spend on the phone with my best friend explaining how the Worst Case Scenario handbook of Love & Sex mentions making makeshift tampons from toilet paper and water and then asking her for suggestions on what to do: 45. Number of minutes it takes to locate tampon: 30. How many times I thank my lucky stars I’m wearing very dark rinse jeans … too many to count.

July 8, 2010

When life gives you lemons, make rape-incest babies

by d

I don't have to live with the consequences of your actions!

I have been eager for the chance to talk about conservative Senate candidate Sharron Angle (Republican, Nevada, challenging Democratic Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid). For the purpose of this blog, I wanted to have a really good reason to lay into her. So I bided my time, and now it has come.

It’s not secret that Sharron Angle is anti-abortion. Way anti-abortion. She has stated before that she believes abortion interferes with God’s plan (with audio):

MANDERS: Is there any reason at all for an abortion?

ANGLE: Not in my book.

MANDERS: So, in other words, rape and incest would not be something?

ANGLE: You know, I’m a Christian, and I believe that God has a plan and a purpose for each one of our lives and that he can intercede in all kinds of situations and we need to have a little faith in many things.

Now news is breaking of another interview, where Angle told teens raped by their fathers to ‘make lemonade.’

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July 7, 2010

Financial Idiot Yells at Kids for Giving Away Free Lemonade

by f

Shaddup, wiseguy. It's free if I say it's free!

Apparently, financial experts know how to piss on just about everything.

In the latest on financial irresponsibility, girls at a lemonade stand tried to give away lemonade for on the side of the road for free — but not if Terry Savage had anything to say about it. She parked her car in front of the stand, rolled down her window, and gave those girls everything she had.

I pushed the button to roll down the window and stuck my head out to set them straight.

“You must charge something for the lemonade,” I explained. “That’s the whole point of a lemonade stand. You figure out your costs — how much the lemonade costs, and the cups — and then you charge a little more than what it costs you, so you can make money. Then you can buy more stuff, and make more lemonade, and sell it and make more money.”

(Yes, you go Terry! Do capture that American entrepreneurial spirit!)

And you have to admire the sheer uncorrupted nature of these kids. When, — after that overblown explanation of capitalism and free-market principles — Ms. Savage asked them how much she’d be charged, they insisted on giving the lemonade to her for free.

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