If there’s one thing that irks me – and believe me, there’s not just one – it’s when people use the argument of “Freedom of Speech” as a catch-all card to justify whatever hateful speech they or someone else is spewing. My favorite is when someone says “I don’t agree with what he says, but hey, Free Speech!”
Lucky, there’s a comic to explain in fewer, and far better words, what Freedom of Speech really entails:
Bottom line is, if you say jerkface things in public, don’t be surprised if there are personal consequences from you saying jerkface things. It’s that simple.
I don’t watch the Grammys, as evident when I first titled this and was utterly convinced this was the Emmys. I don’t watch those either. The Academy Awards, however, are an event in my house. So yeah, Grammys. Not sure what happened but I happened to see lovely ol’ Madge here and immediately thought TRUMAN CAPOTE.
On the left, we have the stylish, wonderful Truman Capote as Lionel Twain in 1976′s Murder By Death. The husband and I are completely opposites but we have this movie in common, which makes us one step away from a quirky love song, I suppose. It is wonderfully hilarious with a star-studded cast, if you can get past that fact Peter Sellers is playing a horribly stereotyped Asian detective. (Although it is not nearly as bad as Mickey Rooney in that movie that would have landed my husband and I squarely in quirky love song zone. A movie based on novella written by none other than Truman Capote. See, it all comes full circle.)
On the right, we have the never aging, always reinventing and always cooler than you Madonna. Can I just mention how weird it is that I listened to Madonna as a child and my kids are still able to hear new Madonna songs now? I have a hard time picking my favorite iteration of Madonna. I’d probably go with Ray of Light Madonna. Definitely not cowboy Madonna or whatever that moment in time was. Yeow.
Look, Madonna can get away with a lot, but I’m going to hand this one over to Truman Capote. Ditch the cane and hat, Madonna.
I’ve been working like a madwoman this week to get a last minute website designed, built and ready for launch by Monday. (Yes, seriously last minute.) This has coincided with my working from home while some reconstruction happens at the office. So I’ve been able to work with minimal interruptions, save for the cats who love to jump on the desk and sit in front of the monitor all “Wat doin?” Cats are incredibly nosey animals, but I do appreciate the company. I’ve had Rdio blasting all week and have been incredibly hooked on Of Monsters and Men’s “My Head is an Animal”. Every project seems to have a soundtrack for me, and this album has hands down been the one for this week. (There have been a few interruptions of Snoop Dogg, Dr Dre and ilk, because when I get frustrated that is what happens. It’s odd. Not that I don’t enjoy their music, it’s just an odd transition but the mind needs what the mind needs.)
Anyway, after many evenings working into the wee hours, Of Monsters and Men have kept me audible company. I am particularly fond of the song “Dirty Paws”, which is a sort of folk tale but so catchy and full of energy.
Here is a performance from Quick Hits, a web series from the PBS show SOUND TRACKS. It is just as wonderful if not more so than the recorded version. (And how many artists can truly say that about their live performances?)
I think everyone has that certain person in their life: that person who seems to have no concept of how to be a tactful, polite human being. You know the type. It’s the person others always excuse as “Well, that’s just how they are“. What I can’t figure out is why we continue to excuse their behavior? It is really ridiculous if you think about it. The person will say things that others would perceive as hurtful or insulting and we’re expected to just shrug it off like “That’s just how they are!” I am calling bullshit on all of this. Just because these people have managed to fail basic pre-school manners doesn’t mean they should get a pass on their crummy behavior. Asshole people need to learn how to function in a polite society. By excusing their behavior, we’re giving them a free pass to continue acting in an oblivious manner. Not to jump to the absolute extreme here (but I am), can you imagine people being so blasé about serial killers? “Meh…it’s just how they ARE.” No, we expect people to not kill. Crazy, I know. Is it so far-fetched to expect people to be decent human beings and not tactless jerks who say whatever inane thought pops into their head without utilizing an internal filter?
Eh. Maybe it is. Look, I’m not expecting kumbaya and unicorn hugs here. If you have one of those types of people in your life, stop excusing their behavior. Eventually (and hopefully), they will learn that it is better to not interact with people like an unsocialized neanderthal.
Between Colt and my foster pup, I’ve been to 3 different vets in 4 days. I really should have these anatomy posters memorized by now. Also is there just one place that makes these charts for all vet offices? I swear they all have the same one.
I had to take Colt to the vet today for what ended up being feline interstitial cystitis – essentially, an inflammation in the bladder/lower urinary tract. He made a point of peeing in front of me (sans litter box), which let me know that there was an issue. The urine had a reddish tint to it, so I sat there with a syringe sucking it up for a urinalysis. (One of the many benefits of fostering so many dogs with a plethora of issues is picking up handy skills like syringe handling…and apparently urine collection.) The urinalysis showed crystals, but no infection, so Colt is on pain meds and a special diet. FIC isn’t really caused by a bacteria, so antibiotics are of no use. Our vet said that stress is usually a causing factor, but I can’t think of what that would be for Colt. There haven’t been any major changes. The next several days, I need to keep an eye on him and make sure there’s not a blockage, which is fatal as swiftly as within 24 hours. While I was paying the bill and getting his meds, I spotted a container full of handmade catnip bags. They were to raise money for a local rescue and the vet tech assured me it was locally grown catnip. Honestly, I found the whole “homegrown” aspect amusing, like I was buying something other than catnip. I figured catnip would be a perfect de-stressor for Colt and bought him a pouch. The rest of the day has been a scene like this. Every time I turned the corner in the family room, this is what greeted me, just with a cat swapped out. I didn’t get a picture of Colt in action since the pain meds knocked him out rather quickly, but Zoey was having a field day rolling around with the catnip pouch.