So. According to a salacious report on Kos, Palin’s daughter had a kid out of wedlock that Palin pretends is hers to hide the social-conservative stigma of having a kid out of wedlock.

The whole report—which reads like a cross between the censored parts of Brontë novel and The Brothers Karamazov—is here.

The heart breaks. The stomach aches. And if it’s true, I’m totally voting for Palin as the most goth-romantic-gutsy nutjob since Mary-Kay Letourneau (who has been the soul and flower of goth-romantic-gutsiness since the beginning of ever). If the story is true, Palin is a beautifully twisted hero, a liar with the courage of her convictions.

From the story:

Well, Sarah, I’m calling you a liar. And not even a good one. Trig Paxson Van Palin is not your son. He is your grandson. The sooner you come forward with this revelation to the public, the better.

Here’s Palin, allegedly seven months “pregnant”:

Here’s a family photo, around the same time. See if you can spot the pregnant one:

From the Kos story:

Bristol is pregnant in these pictures. She is not carrying belly fat, which grows outwardly wide, and does not become dome-shaped. That’s because fat is generally evenly distributed around the abdomen and a fetus is not.

By the way: this (allegedly) clandestine kid? It’s the one with Down syndrome.

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way: The family of “A Sharp Nail” awaits its novelists.

And remember: a vote for Palin is a vote for change(lings).

Looks like the Lord will likely requireth Bush (and possibly McCain) to be elsewhere during the Republican convention:

ST. PAUL—President Bush is unlikely to make it to the Republican National Convention and Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.) may deliver his acceptance speech by satellite because of the historically huge hurricane threatening New Orleans, top officials said.

And:

Republican officials here are preparing for radical changes to the every element of the convention. If the storm is as bad as feared, they will dramatically alter the tone of the speeches, cut way back on the partisan red meat, eliminate the glitzy entertainment, and, if they legally can, use the gathering for a massive fund-raising drive that may even feature a passing of buckets on the convention floor to benefit the Red Cross, according to a top GOP source.

“We’ll have to acknowledge that Americans are hurting,” said this Republican.

Much can be changed or altogether dropped from the convention, but it emphatically must take place in some form because McCain needs to be nominated to be legally placed on the ballot in all 50 states. “There are no exceptions to that,” said the source.

4:00 p.m.: Turns out I was able to sneak into the “Democratizing Game Development” panel after all (see 3:40 p.m.). Good thing, too; the four developers on hand spoke to the adoring crowd of budding developers by talking as little about games as possible. This was most apparent when the panel had book recommendations for the crowd—very few about coding or gaming. The Origin of Brands, and other books about emotional design and creative inspirations, spoke to a greater purpose—and a willingness to make biz risks—that might help a little developer compete.

Beyond that, the panel spoke to the difficulties game makers face versus, say, screenwriters or YouTube amateurs. Individual authorship doesn’t work in the traditional game world, where people usually expect a full team of coders, artists, modelers, etc. But that may soon change. Microsoft’s XNA program lets solo artists make full, robust titles for PC and consoles. Flash gaming is a real business, attracting moms and casual gamers by the truckload. And as Best Buy and Gamestop are replaced by online game shops and Xbox Live, publishing and marketing budgets will stop walling new game makers in.

Of course, the guys didn’t have answers about rising above the noise and the fray of an ever-expanding Internet of content. Nobody really does. But seeking greater inspirations for a project can’t hurt.

3:40 p.m.: First PAX complaint: The official panels are held in eensy teensy rooms at an expo with thousands of attendants. Sad, really, because I’m missing the “Democratizing Game Development” panel, the one I wanted to see the most. I miscalculated and spent too long playing more of the PAX 10 games before reaching the panel. Weird, actually, that I spent too long playing independent games to go and talk about them with official panelists and interested citizens for an hour. Well, that’s PAX for ya.

I did attend a games journalism panel an hour ago or so, which, sadly, was overrun with concerns about 10-point scales for measuring games. Maybe the issue isn’t how the games are scored, but how the games are chosen? Shouldn’t games journalism move beyond the Maddens and Halos, the ones that don’t necessarily need the attention, and perhaps break ground with a few discoveries? Not much commentary on that, sadly.

11:00 a.m.: Okay, Slog gamers. You never shut up about Spore (the latest title from SimCity/Sims maven Will Wright), so I played half an hour of Spore. For you.

Here’s the sad thing—I’d signed up in advance to play the game through an invite from EA’s PR army. I assumed they’d set aside separate press kiosks. Turns out the demos were held on the showroom floor—that’s fine, I don’t need privacy or fancy treatment. BUT. As I approached, a developer kicked a teenager off a demo rig so I could play. Chances are, this kid was the ultimate PAX attendant—waiting in line for hours this morning, rushing into the exhibition hall at the 10 a.m. whistle blow, making a beeline for Spore. His dreamy, dreamy Spore.

Jesus. This broke my nerd heart.

[Long thread, so I’ll jump older posts through the day.]

Continue reading "PAX Day Two - Megathread" »

I.

Down at the Xcel Center, CNN has rented, renovated, and renamed an entire bar for its VIP headquarters:

And, on a giant digital billboard, Fox’s paean to Palin looms over press, workers, and other peons:

II.

This is a maddening NYT story about a billboard controversy in St. Paul—portraits of Iraq veterans cancelled, at the last minute, for being “inappropriate”:

Ms. Opton’s photographs, part of a series called the Soldier Billboard Project, have been displayed on billboards in Syracuse, and one was on a billboard in Denver during the Democratic National Convention. But the company that owns the Minneapolis-St. Paul billboards, CBS Outdoor, part of the larger media conglomerate, canceled her contract last week, having decided that the pictures sent a confusing and inappropriate message.

If by “inappropriate” CBS means “affecting,” then yes—they’re inappropriate:

And you know what? They’re not even all that affecting. They’re mild. I thought McCain—and the Republican—were the tough guys and broads, made of sterner stuff.

Savage has quite thoroughly mocked and dispensed with the Christian-right notion that God is a vengeful hurricane hurler and earthquake instigator who targets sodomy-loving cities with natural disasters.

But this business about Hurricane Gustav strengthening into a Category 4 and heading toward the Louisiana coast exactly three years after Hurricane Katrina destroyed New Orleans—and exactly two days before Republicans are set to open their convention in Minneapolis-St. Paul—has me wondering.

Perhaps the Lord works in mysterious, bank-shot ways, and is really hurricane-launchingly upset with Republicans?

Gustav is supposed to bring tropical-storm-force winds to New Orleans by Monday, the day the convention opens, and will probably hit land on Tuesday, which could create a perfect storm of bad images for McCain: Republicans fat-catting around in Minneapolis-St. Paul, again ignoring New Orleans in a moment of need while their leaders, Bush and McCain, celebrate themselves.

I mean, remember this image from three years ago of Bush giving McCain a birthday cake on some tarmac in Arizona while New Orleans drowned?

Imagine the major political image of next week being Bush passing the torch to McCain inside a well-appointed convention hall packed with suits while New Orleans drowns again.

No surprise, then, that McCain is now talking about suspending or truncating the convention.

It wouldn’t be appropiate to have a festive occasion while a near tragedy or a terrible challenge is presented in the form of a natural disaster.

This time, anyway.

But one can look at this another way: Maybe God is a Republican after all.

Because this could very easily turn out to be a natural-disaster gift to McCain. I’m sure he’d love to have a good excuse to shorten the convention by, say, snipping out the opening address by Bush; canceling any appearance by Cheney; and telling any religious right speakers who want to cast America’s cities as punishment-deserving Sodom and Gomorrahs that, sorry, now is just not a good time for all that.

I just can’t resist it. I’m that scorpion that told the frog it can only be a scorpion. Everything inside of me finds it hard not to automatically dislike/despise/sting country people. And Sarah Palin is pure country. Because of her current important/historical status, we are now forced to see on the great stage of our times the most mundane of American scenarios—country scenarios, one of the main of which is the scenario of the family feud:

Former Department of Public Safety Commissioner Walt Monegan on Friday said that since Gov. Sarah Palin took office, members of her administration and family pressured him to fire a Palmer Alaska State Trooper to whom her sister was involved in a bitter child custody battle.

Monegan said phone calls and questions from the Palin administration and the governor’s husband, Todd Palin, about trooper Mike Wooten started shortly after Monegan was hired and continued up to one or two months ago.

The governor herself also had a brief conversation with him about Wooten in February, Monegan said.

The new assertions from Monegan, who has been mostly silent on his abrupt firing July 11, conflict with what the Republican governor said earlier in the week. She said she never put pressure on the commissioner to fire her sister’s ex-husband and no one from her office had complained about Wooten. She has also said replacing Monegan with Kenai Police Chief Chuck Kopp had nothing to do with Wooten. She has offered little explanation for the dismissal.

What other country scenarios are going to appear on the present stage of world history?

For one:

The just-concluded Democratic National Convention in Denver was the most-watched since at least 1960 and drew more viewers than the Summer Olympics, according to figures released by the Nielsen Co.

For two:

The 38.4 million individuals who watched Obama’s address on television represented a 57 percent increase over the 24.4 million who saw Democratic Senator John Kerry’s acceptance speech in Boston four years ago.

For three:

On average, the four-day Democratic convention drew 30.2 million viewers as Illinois Senator Barack Obama, 47, became the first black presidential nominee of a major political party. This year’s Olympic Games averaged 27.7 million.

A fact: Obama is bigger than the Olympics. Another fact: Obama is not bigger than M.A.S.H..

Obama’s acceptance speech before more than 75,000 people at Invesco Field Aug. 28 attracted viewers in 27.7 million households. The most-watched broadcast, the finale of the CBS television show “M.A.S.H.,” was seen in 50.2 million, Nielsen figures show.

Sarah Palin supports the teaching of creationism in public schools.

Can we expect her father, a former elementary-school science teacher, to publicly ridicule her position? Sadly,

“I’d rather go moose hunting than be involved with politics,” [Chuck Heath] said.

Oh, and Palin thinks global warming is scary but unrelated to human activities:

What is your take on global warming and how is it affecting our country?

A changing environment will affect Alaska more than any other state, because of our location. I’m not one though who would attribute it to being man-made.

Via TPM.

So Krishna, as when he admonished Arjuna On the field of battle. Not fare well, But fare forward, [voyager].

Now that we have flying on the mind:

WASHINGTON (AP) - Two airliners were one minute from colliding when at least one of the planes turned away from the other over the Atlantic Ocean this week, federal authorities said Friday.

The National Transportation Safety Board said it was investigating an incident in which a Delta Air Lines flight and a Russian-registered passenger jet were heading toward each other Thursday north of Puerto Rico when cockpit alarms went off.

The NTSB said the pilot of the Russian plane - a Transaero Boeing 747 - descended 200 feet to 300 feet to avoid Delta Flight 485.

The planes were at the same altitude - 33,000 feet over open ocean - and were “60 seconds apart from occupying the same airspace,” said NTSB spokesman Peter Knudson.

Local police, sheriff’s, and fire departments have been conducting raids and surprise fire inspections on protest gathering places throughout St. Paul and Minneapolis today, including at least three private homes and this old theater at 627 Smith Avenue:

The busted buildings were to serve as meeting points, food distribution centers, internet sites, and bunkhouses for visiting protestors.

Branch, a visiting protestor from Portland, was at the building above when it was raided last night. “It was like a SWAT raid,” he said, “between 30 and 50 cops with guns drawn and pointed at people’s heads.”

The police, from the sheriff’s department, made everybody lie on the floor and read a broad search warrant. “They said they were looking for X-boxes, computers, paper materials, paint, banners, strips of fabric, I guess for molotov cocktails,” Branch said. “They took all our computers—maybe ten desktops and five or six laptops—for evidence.”

Everybody present—50 or 60 people, Branch estimates—was detained, photographed, and questioned before being released. The officers also “sealed” the old theater with eight screws:

An older woman, walking her dog, walked by while Branch was telling his story. “I’m so sorry my city is treating visitors this way,” she said. “The mayor lives in my neighborhood and I’m going to call him about this!”

The raids are, among other things, stranding visiting protestors without lodgings. (If anybody in the Twin Cities areas wants to host a visitor or two, many of whom have brought tents and sleeping bags, call the “housing hotline”: 612-419-7809.)

At a food distribution center five blocks away from the theater, a few folks—an older Native American man, a young white guy with a handsome beard and pointy moustache, a nice older lady in a pink shirt with white hair, all of whom declined to be photographed—said they expected to be raided sometime today. The nice older lady shrugged: “Seems possible.”

While we were standing there, Noah Kunin—a local video blogger from The Uptake—got a call from his editor: The local IndyMedia offices had just been popped with a surprise fire inspection.

Music

Bon Iver, A.A. Bondy

• See what else is happening in Music on Saturday »
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…the high school Tony Awards.

There are a bunch of readings today.

B.L. Morgan signs the mysteries Blood And Rain and Blood For The Masses at Borders Tacoma. The press release said he would be signing for 6 hours, from 12 to 6. HARD CORE! And Cricket McRae, whose first name is Cricket, will be signing her mystery, which is related to canning and preserving, at the Seattle Mystery Book Shop.

And at Bumbershoot, there are readings galore. The editor of the book Cringe, which is like the Salon of Shame but is based on a reading series in New York City, will be hosting a reading of awful teenage poetry. There is also something called CoochieMagik, which is exactly what it sounds like.

And there are tons of conflicts of interest there, too. David Schmader will be appearing with Kevin Sessums to talk about growing up gay in the south. New Stranger Genius Sherman Alexie will be hosting a big ol’ thing with Trisha Ready’s country band. In addition to country songs about books, Alexie will read and also Sean Nelson and Christopher Frizzelle and Ellen Forney will talk about…well, you’ll have to see it to believe it. At almost the exact same time, some douchebag with the obviously fake last name of “Constant” will be interviewing brilliant young novelists Jonathan Evison and Sarah Suh-lien Bynum.

Bumbershoot is here.

Full readings calendar, including the next week or so, is here.

Karl Rove on picking a running mate:

“I think [Obama’s] going to make an intensely political choice, not a governing choice,” Rove said. “He’s going to view this through the prism of a candidate, not through the prism of president; that is to say, he’s going to pick somebody that he thinks will on the margin help him in a state like Indiana or Missouri or Virginia. He’s not going to be thinking big and broad about the responsibilities of president.” Rove singled out Virginia governor Tim Kaine, also a Face The Nation guest, as an example of such a pick.

“With all due respect again to Governor Kaine, he’s been a governor for three years, he’s been able but undistinguished,” Rove said. “I don’t think people could really name a big, important thing that he’s done. He was mayor of the 105th largest city in America.”

I wonder if Rove still feels this way. Somehow, I think he probably has a different take on VP qualifications now. Let’s see…

[Palin’s] a populist, she’s an economic and a social conservative, she’s a reformer, she took on the incumbent governor of the state Frank Murkowski — Republican — beat him in the primary, won an upset in the general election. She’s a former mayor. She’s the mayor of, I think, the second largest city in Alaska before she ran for governor.

Actually, Karl, she was mayor of Wasilla, Alaska, population 8,000. At the time, not even one of the 10 biggest “cities” in Alaska.

via TPM, via Gruber, with an assist from Think Progress

(Sorry about the already-everywhere post title, had to use while it’s still a little bit funny—for another 2 minutes or so.)

Who would’ve thought a one-off post about arts criticism would’ve kicked off such a shitstorm?

A sampling of the comments:

Brendan you are fucking dick: go die you talentless vulture of a journalist.

Thoughtful criticism is all very well, but personally I prefer praise.

Whether or not it’s hurtful, becoming morally pious about your work just because you put a lot of effort into it is still a counterproductive mindset. Effort is not a coupon for freedom from criticism.

kiley’s absolutely correct in everything he points out and he’s made it clear to me why i despise his brand of ‘criticism’ so..

But I would like to draw your attention to comment #73 on said post, a successful parody of this small joke—note to over-literal readers: a joke! not a real review!—in our Bumbershoot guide:

Click here to see the parody.

I salute you, Rudnik Nelson, wherever you are. Just one correction: We write on computers in Tim Keck’s basement “on beanbag chairs.” Most of our parents changed the locks on us long ago.

(p.s. It’s muggier than a newlywed’s bed in St. Paul this evening, and police have already arrested two protestors setting up an encampment in a city park. Sixty cops showed up, one of them a sniper type with an assault rifle. These people are not fucking around.

My host here—a friend of a friend who happens to be a National Guardsman studying to be a police officer—says his law-enforcement school will be shut down during the convention because they need every human they can find for security and riot alert. If any city is going to “recreate ‘68” this year—and really, why would you?—it’ll be this one.)

7:00 p.m.: What’s a guy to do as keynote speaker at a gaming convention? Out himself, of course. Doesn’t seem like a big stretch for Ken Levine, the creative director of last year’s arty blockbuster Bioshock. Uh, he makes games. Epic games with long scripts about underwater empires and the crazed 1920s mobsters who love them. Geek? SHOCKER.

Sorry, my photos from the keynote were awful. To make up for it, here’s a short video:

But like Wil Wheaton’s call-to-geek-arms speech last year, Levine took today’s opportunity to recount his own reluctant descent into comics, D&D, and all matter of video games. It was a late ’70s story straight out of TV show Freaks & Geeks: “When my parents rolled for my character, they didn’t get any 18s,” he said, and the crowd roared for the D&D joke. The rest of his upbringing story was Spiderman, an Atari 2600 as a Channukah gift, salivating over comic book heroines, getting in a tizzy over Logan’s Run, and publicly hiding his nerdiness for fear of retribution. It took an accidental stumble into a D&D posse for the guy to finally accept his lot (“I was worried I’d walked into some Gygax-ian gingerbread house”).

It wasn’t as exhilirating and shameless a speech as Wheaton’s from last year, but it didn’t mince words, either: “What brings us together at PAX is, we’re a giant bunch of fucking nerds.” This, and his series of witty in-jokes, elicited roars from the crowd. It’s almost disconcerting the way the mass cheered and clapped—for a brief moment, it felt like they were a tiny pack of right-wing, gun-loving nuts trapped in San Francisco. But, to be fair, it wasn’t quite that extreme. And the opportunity to let your social guard down and applaud/grin along is too thick to pass up—so what if the PAX scene was a bit jubilant? Besides, Levine’s story of childhood ostracization was touching even outside the corridors of geekdom—anybody can identify with being on the outside to some extent.

Penny Arcade’s creators followed this keynote with their annual Q&A session. Funny, certainly, though this is where the crowd began to fragment. No biggie for creators Jerry Holkins and Mike Krahulik. Like they’ve said all along, this is a gaming expo, not a comic strip expo. The authors are happy merely being a conduit through which their brethren may gather.

And now, for the rest of the evening, I’m off to do just that. To sit down when I see an open chair at a fighting game booth. To make friends with DS-wielding Tetris addicts. To see if somebody will teach me what the heck is new in D&D 4th Edition. And, seriously, to make a friend or two. (I’m always on the lookout for a gaming posse.) Tomorrow is a busier “official” day; lots of panels with industry folks about the modern state of games development. I look forward to reporting the heck out of that. Until then, geeks ahoy.

2:55 p.m.: A few hours in, I can already proclaim the winner of the PAX 10 indie competition: The Maw. You run around like a 3D Mario game, but the only thing you can do is use an electric leash and lug around this stupidly goofy blob-thing (or the things that you want to feed it). The joy here is in the lively main character, pumped full of quirks and personality. The total product is charming, hilarious, and pleasing to figure out as a game. And only eight people made it. That’s, like, 1/50th of the people who made Halo 2.5 3. The Maw should see release on Xbox Live soon. I look forward to raving about it.

Not that the rest of the PAX 10 is a snore. Turns out the one-man team making Sushi Bar Samurai is a hometown native, and his title probably best embodies the spirit of this off-kilter competition. I love the concept—you are a sushi chef in the afterlife, and you assemble souls’ “final meals.” It’s the perfect kind of challenge for challenge-averse gamers; you can very simply arrange sushi rolls, or you can come up with recipe combos. It starts off ridiculously simple, but the presentation lulls you into enjoying the game’s virtual bonsai arrangements. Of raw fish.

Other PAX 10 dandies, my fest experience so far, and big names like Gears of War 2:

(Jump to read the entire rest of the day’s coverage.)

Continue reading "PAX Day One - Megathread" »

This just in from “a concerned fan of the Seattle art scene”:

To the Stranger, the biggest bullies in town,

Hello all you leaders of the hipster nation! How is it in the capitol of cool? It must get exhausting deciding how to insult things relentlessly.

I think you do a great job! However, as cultural attaches I believe you end up letting certain art forms fall by the way side. You and the rest of Seattle, is about to bully contemporary dance out of town.

As you know, Velocity dance center is losing it’s home in the Odd Fellows hall. Your recent comparison of the improv vs. the children in the fountain is exactly the type of mockery that does not help us, as a community feel welcome at what is advertised as Seattle’s biggest arts festival.

Other newspapers elsewhere, less concerned with being hip, write about dance describing the artist, their lives, hopes, visions, background (things you write about musicians). Instead you focus on witty digs (how children are less self involved/ cuter, or how it would be better to watch if you were drunk). How does this help the general pubic understand what we do? Your goal may not be to be an accurate resource but your approach is discouraging. When you write about hot poop/ hip bands you talk about what they drink, if they have a cute dog, random banter they carry on about. They are featured with high esteem, for having very little to say. The dance community is represented as naïve, self indulgent and foolish (which is accurate for some but there are many incredible artist in our community). I think you owe us!

So either I call you out, for a Stranger vs. Dancers: Modern Dance off (the terms and conditions of which have yet to be thought through). Or you do a feature on the kick ass members of our community: Amy Oneil, Wade Madsen, Left Field Revival, Zoe Schofield, Ricki Mason, Maki Mori… just to name a few. These are intelligent, multi-tasking, fascinating artist you could write small features about.

As our community heads towards an uncertain future of displacement it would be awesome if you Hipster Dictators of Cool could, for once, be on our side and wake Seattle up to it’s contemporary dance scene.

She (how do I know it’s a she? I just do) makes some good points, and I’d love to see profiles (mini or not) about all those name-checked dancers. But the prospect of a modern dance-off is too enticing. Please continue thinking through the details.

^{Photo by Eli Sanders}

Also on the flight back from Denver, the three of us tallied up the celebrities we and our friends saw at the Democratic National Convention.

There were the political and/or media celebrities—people like Al Sharpton, who probably qualifies as both and is pictured above walking away from the convention hall on Wednesday as everyone else was filing in to watch the roll call vote and the Bill Clinton speech.

This sort of recognizable politico/media face was a dime a dozen in Denver: Anderson Cooper chatting on the CNN Grill patio; George Stephanopoulos riding the down escalator in the convention hall, reaching across to touch the arm of Washington Senator Patty Murray, who was riding up; Wolf Blitzer dancing at Mile High with Donna Brazile; Gavin Newsom holding court in a Pepsi Center hallway with a beautiful woman on his arm; John Aravosis of Americablog having afternoon cocktails at the Media Matters party; Walter Mondale pulling up on a busy downtown street, opening the door to his SUV, not noticing a pile of police-horse-shit right beneath him, getting warned by some passers by, and moving on; Markos Moulitsas of DailyKos holding a press conference outside the bloggers’ Big Tent; Harold Ford at a shmancy party at the Denver Art Museum, accompanied by a hot white woman of exactly the type he got attacked for associating with in that famous commercial; Charles Schumer, in awful boat shoes and bad khakis, doing a rendition of “Lipstick on My Collar” for a group of attractive women at the same party; Nebraska Senate candidate and New Yorker Talk of the Town hottie Scott Kleeb, smoking outside the Rolling Stone party and complaining about how The New Yorker drew him with his jeans tucked into his boots, which is not how he wears them; and on, and on.

It was somewhat interesting to see these sorts of semi-celebs outside of the electric boxes they usually inhabit. But far more interesting—because less numerous, more eclectic, and less intimately connected to the subject at hand—was the collection of actual celebrities who popped up here and there in Denver, going about their conventioneering business.

Our list, compiled from sightings with our very own eyes or those of our Denver friends:

Charles Barkley on the Pepsi Center floor watching preparations for the Hillary Clinton speech; Spike Lee strolling through downtown; Susan Sarandon being introduced to RZA outside a performance by Bill Maher; two actors from Mad Men who, having just finished up shooting their last show of the season, and having then immediately jumped on a jet to get to Obama’s speech, were rushing into Mile High Stadium; Wendell Pierce from The Wire headed toward a security checkpoint; Joe Pantoliano of The Sopranos at the above-mentioned museum party; and a bunch of others whose activities couldn’t be remembered at the moment: Steven Spielberg, Ken Burns, Matthew Modine, Cornel West, and, finally, Annette Bening.

Not a bad for four days at a political function.

On the plane back from Denver I was imagining, with Charles and Annie, what Obama’s ideal “Statement from Hillary Clinton on Sarah Palin” would be. It went something like this:

We need more women in high offices in this country, and I congratulate Sen. McCain on trying to make history by picking Gov. Sarah Palin as his vice presidential nominee. But the struggle for gender equality is not just about equal opportunity. It’s about equal expectations.

The American people have a right to expect a President and Vice President who are ready on day one, and unfortunately Gov. Palin, a half-term governor from Alaska, possesses a political resume far too thin for someone a heartbeat away from the presidency.

Someday we will break the glass ceiling that has kept women out of the most powerful offices in the White House, but when we do it should be with a qualified woman who defends women’s rights and has the experience to lead our nation. Unfortunately, Gov. Palin is not that woman.

When I arrived home just now, I received in my in-box the actual, official “STATEMENT FROM SEN. HILLARY CLINTON ON SEN. MCCAIN’S VP SELECTION.”

It is this:

We should all be proud of Governor Sarah Palin’s historic nomination, and I congratulate her and Senator McCain. While their policies would take America in the wrong direction, Governor Palin will add an important new voice to the debate.

We’ve started to run commenter book reports on Slog. At Slog Happy, willing commenters grab advance reader copies that I provide and then write book reports. Now, it’s Comte’s turn. Any errors should be assumed to be the editor’s fault. I am the editor. Take it away, Comte, and thanks:

The Gypsy Morph by Terry Brooks

First off: I’m not a fan of sword & sorcery/fantasy novels. I’ve read
exactly one of Anne McCaffrey’s Pern novels, none of the Harry
Potters, and perhaps one Tolkien, many many years ago, and that’s it.
So, I don’t have any intimate knowledge of Terry Brooks’ Shannara
series (or what I assume are other co-existing fantasy worlds in his
oeuvre), and really only picked this particular book up off
the pile out of mild curiosity more than anything else.

From what I gather, Brooks has created several alternate-reality
scenarios over the course of his career, most of which, as best I can
tell, seem to fall into a pretty standard “magic and mythical
creatures” paradigm. His latest work, The Gypsy Morph is,
apparently, an attempt to blend several of his worlds together, while
simultaneously acting as something of a prequel to them; a tall order
to be sure.

For his fans, The Gypsy Morph may be a satisfying merging of these
stories, answering questions of origin, filling in narrative
gaps, bringing the various series full-circle, and what-not. But, for
a first-time reader, a book like this must either stand on its own, or
at the very least compel one to delve further into the worlds he’s
created. In this case, while the novel is a quick and relatively
painless read despite the noticeable lack of back story, it’s also not
one that makes me want to pick up any of the other related works to
learn more about the characters or their journey.

The plot is pretty standard fare: in a post-apocalyptic world,
rag-tag bands of humans, genetically mutated former humans, and
mythological beings, roam across the devastated countryside in search
of a safe haven, while being inexorably pursued by armies of sadistic,
magic-wielding demons bent on exterminating the last remnants of
civilization. The cast of characters includes a particularly
precocious tribe of moppets known as the “Ghosts”, who have taken on
the identities of animals (“Hawk”, “Panther”, “Cat”, et al) and who
display the obvious personality stereotypes associated with their
chosen names. In addition, there are two sibling elves tasked with
protecting their entire race from a demonic onslaught, and a couple of
modern-day knights errant charged with joining these
scattered groups together, and eventually marching them all safely to
an unknown destination where they will all ride out the coming End Of The World.

After the prerequisite series of plodding treks, not-so-surprising
captures, hair-breadth escapes, and ponderous confrontations (when
will the bad guys ever learn that, when you finally have your enemy at
your mercy, engaging them in long arguments over competing
philosophical viewpoints is going to end badly?) these disparate bands
eventually team up, and through the nascent skills of a human born of
“wild magic” (the eponymous Gypsy Morph of the title), overcome the
various-and-sundry obstacles thrown in their path (Marauding militias!
Shape-shifting child-eaters! Dust storms! Oh my!) and wend their way
across the Eastern Washington (!) wilderness, where they engage in a
final battle-royal against the forces of darkness, before arriving at
their promised safe-hold high in the Montana Rockies just before the
inevitable prophesized Armageddon takes place; and all this while
predictably managing to lose only a mere handful of secondary
characters along the way.

It’s all very Tolkienesque both in tone and structure; Lord of The
Rings set in the future instead of the distant past, but otherwise
pretty familiar stuff.

Where Brooks shows some initiative, however, and what makes The Gypsy
Morph stand out somewhat from the norm is his ability to juggle
several parallel and overlapping story-lines, gradually merging them
into a single, tight, albeit predictable narrative. The story of Hawk
and the Ghosts’ exodus takes up most of the novel, but an almost equal
portion is given over a parallel plot concerning the plight of the
elves, and their savior, Errisen, who must somehow overcome a demonic
siege of their one-and-only city, magically transport it into the
relative safety of something called the “loden”, then carry this
burden out of Hidden-Elfland to join up with the humans. In addition,
both plots are paralleled themselves by the stories of the two
“Knights of the Word”, who have been given responsibility for ensuring
the success of both missions. It seems pretty clear that these tales
weren’t originally intended for a mash-up, but Brooks nevertheless
manages to merge them together with sufficient plausibility to prevent
the reader’s eyes from rolling into the back of their head in utter
disbelief.

Which for a fantasy novel, is as much as one can expect, I suppose.

New Orleans residents observed the third anniversary of Hurricane Katrina’s devastation on Friday with solemn ceremonies and community events. And then they went to board up their homes and businesses and possibly prepare to evacuate as they await the onslaught of Hurricane Gustav.

Tropical Storm Gustav officially became a hurricane again Friday as it set its sights on the Cayman Islands. Oil traders eyed the storm’s projected path toward the Gulf of Mexico. Residents all along the Gulf Coast, from Pensacola, Fla. to Brownsville, Texas, are watching the skies, the surf and the oncoming storm. Hurricane Gustav’s current path is aimed almost directly at Louisiana. Forecasters anticipate the storm could make landfall sometime late Monday or early Tuesday.

Who says PAX isn’t about politics?

I didn’t have time to confirm whether Obama can use “race cards” like throwing stars or not. Will check on that one later.

Photos of proud gamers and costumed fools after the jump:

Continue reading "PAX In Photos" »

I know many people think it’s inappropriate to mention that John McCain is very old, although I do think the fact that he picked a young, vibrant running mate is a concession to his age being a very important issue, indeed. Those who are offended (which seems to be people who have parents who are still vibrant at 72, which begs the question “Would you want your parents to have the most demanding job in the world at 72?” But I digress), you should not click the link on this post.

But for those who agree that age is an issue, Wonkette just put up a brilliant bit of internet juxtaposition that should be forwarded far and wide. Pass it on.

YPW tipper Jennifer sent this picture in…

“I thought you might appreciate this,” Jennifer wrote in the attached note. “I was driving today and saw this sign at a local church: ‘SERMON: IF I HAD CHRIST’S HANDS WHAT WOULD I TOUCH?’ Of course I immediately thought of “Youth Pastor Watch” and answered, “Uh, children, apparently!”

Moving on…

Illinois:

Former Walworth County youth pastor denies sexual abuse charges

A Lake Geneva teen attended youth group in the 1970s to learn about God and Christianity, but she claims a counselor had sex with her after playing a “trust” game.

The woman, now 49, for the first time Wednesday confronted the man accused of assaulting her, pointing toward him in Walworth County Court, saying he had sex with her 34 years ago when she was 15 and 16…. Russell J. Lesser, 63, Bryson City, N.C., is accused of having sex with the woman 40 to 60 times, including one time at his house on the girl’s prom night, according to the criminal complaint.

The former Youth for Christ Campus Life minister is charged with two felony counts of sexual intercourse with a child and felony indecent behavior with a child.

And the youth pastors that aren’t raping kids on their prom nights are contributing to the childhood-obesity epidemic. Florida:

Kicking off the new school year, the Marco Presbyterian Youth Group started the afternoon meeting with a Bible lesson by Jonathan Loero, youth pastor….

The first meeting culminated with the group, spoons in hand, racing out to the church patio area to dig into a 25-foot ice cream sundae with all the trimmings.

This just in from the FDA:

Quality Food Centers (QFC) said today it is recalling five deli tuna salad items sold at some QFC stores in Washington and Oregon. Salad dressing used to make these items may contain milk not listed on the label. Customers should return the product to stores for a refund or replacement.

The following deli-prepared items are included in the QFC recall:
Tuna Pecan Salad Sell by: Aug. 29-30
Tuna Salad-Stuffed Tomat Sell by: Aug. 29-30
Gourmet Tuna Wrap Sell by: Aug. 27-28
Custom-Prepared Whole Sandwich with Tuna Salt Prepared: Aug. 25-26
Custom-Prepared Half Sandwich with Tuna Salad Prepared: Aug. 25-26

People who are allergic to milk run the risk of a serious or life-threatening reaction if they consume this product. No illnesses have been reported. For most consumers, there is no safety issue with the product. The recall includes 74 QFC stores. QFC has already contacted all customers known to have purchased these items by telephone.

Cindy McCain’s half-sister—one of Cindy’s two half-siblings—was a little surprised when Cindy described herself as “an only child.” Maybe that’s why she’s voting for Obama?

Portalski, 65, and the potential first lady, 54, have the same father: Jim Hensley, the founder of the beer distributor Hensley and Co. that Cindy McCain now chairs.

In an interview with NPR News’ All Things Considered last week, Portalski said she felt “like a non-person” after Cindy McCain described herself as an “only child.”

Portalski’s mother is Hensley’s first wife; Cindy McCain’s mother, Marguerite Hensley, also had another daughter from her first marriage…. Portalski’s son Nathan, a 45-year-old aerospace machinist, is also backing Obama.

Via Queerty.

You’ve helped before, so I’m putting before you the doozy of a problem that’s cropped up recently in my love life—in my life in general, actually:

I’m a middle-aged guy, and my boyfriend has just left his teens. We originally got to know each other because I like to tie up muscular young guys and he’s a muscular young guy who likes getting tied up. But he’s a smart, funny, original kid, and after a few months, we started actually LIKING each other. Not to get all mushy on you, but at some point that like turned to love. We still get off like crazy on the bondage and the sex, but my point is, there’s a lot more going on than just that these days.

Here’s the problem: His narrow-minded, homophobic parents (who are a little younger than I am), were snooping around in his room and found video clips on his computer that pretty clearly illustrate his interests. He still lives with his parents who were, before this, entirely ignorant of their son’s sexual orientation or activities with me. They’re now threatening all the things asshole/bully parents usually threaten: to kick him out, to stop paying for his school, and to disown him.

Continue reading "Savage Love Letter of the Day" »

Defamer unearths a disturbing old gem.

“It makes my taco pop.”

Beat that, bro.

Also, in answer to the ad-opening query, “What do champion gymnasts Paul Hamm, Morgan Hamm, and Shawn Johnson have in common?”: the exact same voice.

As blogger/neologist Joe Posnanski puts it:

Pixifood (PIKZ-ee-food), noun: Any food substance that is highly pleasant to the taste as a child and tastes shockingly unpleasant once you become an adult.

Among Posnanski’s key pixifoods:

Tang As a child it tastes like: Fruity drink goodness. As an adult it tastes like: Laundry detergent

Pop Tarts As a child tastes like: Flavor-filled pastry with delightful crunchy coating. As an adult tastes like: Manila folders injected with jelly.

Dinty Moore Beef Stew As a child it tastes like: The absolute best camping food available. As an adult it tastes like: Dog Food

My personal pixi-faves: frozen fish sticks, Salisbury steak TV dinners, and the entire culinary ouvre of Chef Boyardee.

Read Posnanski’s full pixifood manifesto here.

…it’s my honor to link to VPILF.

Mass Money: Soros behind a measure to decriminalize pot this November; a poll finds voters favor the initiative by 72 percent.

Arkansas: Town submitting petition signatures to make pot lowest enforcement priority.

Bolivia: Takes US anti-drug money while declaring, “Long live coca, death to the yanquis!”

Bacteria: Killed by pot.

Suit: Doctor sues after undercover agents pose as patients trying to get marijuana authorization.

Brute: Twelve headless corpses found in Mexico.

Mute: A new treatment for autism.

Tool: Martin Sheen, a former alcoholic, campaigns against drug rehab.

Kool: Man faces charges for 400,000 contraband cigarettes.

Mule: Man ingests 91 heroin pellets, faces 25 years in prison.

Burners: Washington pot patients want more pot.

Juicers: Three minor league pitchers suspended for using performance-enhancing drugs.

Coffee Makers: Recalled for risk of turning into flaming plastic blobs.

…and surely someone has beaten me to this. But I’ve been locked in a sound- and web-proof room all morning. Doesn’t the current governor of Alaska and potential future VP look a hell of a lot like SNL alum Tina Fey?

Hopefully this means that Fey will be guest-starring on SNL through November.

While Eli was ensconced in his swank Mile High press box…

… I spent the whole evening on the floor with the Washington delegation.

Once it cooled down a little bit—and people had time to recover from hour-long waits in the sweltering sun to get in to the stadium—Washington delegates broke out into near-continuous dance party in the space behind the stage-right cameras. Seattle Obama delegate Chris Porter was a prime instigator.

The dance party was getting some funny looks from the Texas delegation directly to the front. They were a bit more buttoned-up.

“In case you’re wondering,” said superdelegate Eileen Macoll (who, though she was a Clinton supporter, ultimately switched her vote to Obama), “We’re Washington State.” “I was going to say,” replied a Texan.

At points, Rep. Jay Inslee and Gov. Chris Gregoire joined in (the latter prompting chants of “Go Gregoire, go Gregoire”).

7th Congressional District Rep. Jim McDermott steered clear.

The energy on the floor was unfocused compared to previous evenings at the convention hall. There was too much to look at and talk about. But people started to quiet down for Martin Luther King III.

Bill Richardson was an excellent speaker too—more effective with the enormous crowd than I would’ve expected from his sometimes tired-seeming primary speeches. And people absolutely adored Al Gore, especially the shoutout to young people who’ve gotten involved in the political process for the first time. He talked about global warming with more intensity than any other speaker. There was even a hint of terror in his warnings. Interesting contrast with Obama, whose “our planet is in peril” line is starting to sound overly rehearsed.

After Al Gore concluded, the Washington delegation struck up a “Yes We Can” chant, but switched to “Fired up / Ready to go!” when that caught on among the community credential crowd up in the risers.

It’s insane how many people were in that stadium. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a venue that big, and that crowded. By 6:30 pm, the fire department had shut down the floor: Nobody could come in, and that meant nobody was willing to leave.

After the hushed quiet, and the fireflies circling overhead, and the weeping… Obama’s bread-and-butter, rhetorically restrained speech left the delegates plenty of room to breathe. No one fainted, and no one looked likely to faint. But people were into it, hissing at mentions of McCain, yelling “Yes! Yes!” in response to his strong words on the long-term uselessness of offshore drilling, screaming approval at shoutouts to gays and veterans. But it’s interesting—I think the vets line got so much love because it was a reference to the soaring language of Obama’s 2004 address to the convention. The delegates weren’t so much cheering for the vets as for the beautiful words that first brought Obama to their attention:

The times are too serious, the stakes are too high for this same partisan playbook. So let us agree that patriotism has no party. I love this country, and so do you, and so does John McCain. The men and women who serve in our battlefields may be Democrats and Republicans and Independents, but they have fought together and bled together and some died together under the same proud flag. They have not served a Red America or a Blue America—they have served the United States of America.

So I’ve got news for you, John McCain. We all put our country first.

And, of course, they were cheering for the direct hit on John McCain’s lame sloganeering.

After the speech, a few of the red, white, and blue crepe streamers got caught on the wires for the overhead camera. The fireworks, the music, the image on the big screen of Sasha and Malia Obama playing with one of Biden’s grandkids—these things were exhilarating, but for me, the jellyfish streamers against a smoke-filled sky captured the mood better than anything else. It’s eerie, this opportunity to participate in a landmark moment in United States history. It doesn’t deflate the excitement, but it makes your excitement more hushed, and more sublime.

After the speech, I asked for Mayor Nickels’s opinion. I’ve never seen him so animated: “I thought it was a remarkable speech. You know, this is my first convention. I didn’t want to go to a convention until I was passionate about a candidate.” Specifically, Nickels liked the direct, unflinching challenge to McCain: “He drew a line in the sand and said—I will debate this. That is so different from what we’ve been used to. I am really proud.”

Governor Gregoire was equally impressed: “I thought it was absolutely fabulous. He showed us the heart and soul inside of Barack Obama. He showed he can be tough; he showed he’s a visionary.”

I got some very interesting responses from Clinton and Obama delegates too, but they’re going to have to wait. I have a plane to catch.

Denver has been absolutely exhausting—logistically, this convention has been one shitty thing after another—but I am so glad I came.

Boozy B-Boys

Rords of the Froor VI

• More bar reviews in Get Out »
• More Stranger Suggests for this week »

^{(photoshopping by Kelly O)}

Palin admitted to smoking pot—on more than one occasion, even though she says she didn’t care for it—back when she was running for governor way, way back in 2006:

Palin doesn’t support legalizing marijuana, worrying about the message it would send to her four kids. But when it comes to cracking down on drugs, she says methamphetamines are the greater threat and should have a higher priority.

Palin said she has smoked marijuana—remember, it was legal under state law, she said, even if illegal under U.S. law—but says she didn’t like it and doesn’t smoke it now.

“I can’t claim a Bill Clinton and say that I never inhaled.”

Yes, yes: we wouldn’t want to send kids the message that pot is some sort of harmless drug that you can use and still somehow go on to become the governor of a state, a vice-presidential nominee, and, if you get elected and your elderly running mate’s heart gives out, perhaps even president of the United States. Yeah, that would be the wrong message.

Via Sullivan.

_{Photo from the always-jaw dropping Cake Wrecks.}

A lot has been said already of McCain’s weaselly attempts to steal the limelight and bounce from Obama by choosing his VP today. I think Palin will ultimately be proven to be a weak choice—think Quayle and Kemp and other VPs chosen to make a dried-up old husk look alive again—but I think the placement of this choice is meant to obscure another truth of the day.

Today is John McCain’s birthday. He turns 72 today.

Wow, John McCain. Wow. 72! Most people in my family who are 72 spend three or four hours a day worrying if their bowels will decide to function on that particular day. Seventy-two years old! Think of it! Even though you occasionally twirl your mom around on the campaign trail to not-so-subtly suggest that you would live through two terms of a presidency, the fact is that your body—which, we are all reminded frequently, was tortured for five and a half years by [insert racist term for Vietnamese people here] homosexuals—has already been ravaged by cancer. If you had your way and you won the presidency, do you really believe you’d remain a capable and cogent human being until you turned 80? Really?

Anyway, this is not the time nor the place to be wondering whether you are losing your mind to senility and an increasingly scary temper in your old age. You’re 72 today! John McCain is 72 fucking years old! Everybody should think of you, and your 72-year journey, from the aforementioned five and a half years of crippling torture to the Keating Five scandals of the late eighties, on this auspicious day.

A sharp nail straight into my heart. She’s killing my longstanding fantasy—that McCain would rediscover his maverick backbone and use this campaign to hurl evangelicals off the Republican train and put out the call to Goldwater conservatives to take back their hijacked party.

But this Palin is a “conservative Christian,” fiercely pro-life, and pundits on the Christian Broadcasting Network are wetting their tight little khakis over her selection. From Dr. Land, at the Southern Baptist Convention:

Governor Palin is a vice-presidential selection which shows that John McCain at the age of 72 today is still able to think outside the box. Governor Palin will delight the Republican base. She is pro-life. She is an avid hunter and member of The National Rifle Association and is both a conservationist and someone who avidly believes in exploiting our fossil fuel resources as well as developing other forms of energy. A mother of five and a background as a television commentator makes her appear to be a very solid candidate for appealing to a lot of women who feel that Senator Clinton was treated disrespectfully by the Obama camp.

Great. Just great. Nothing would’ve been better for the party than to ditch its social-conservative/fiscally-spendy/Rapture-Ready wing and embrace its better, more Goldwater half. (Plus, McCain, as a former POW, could’ve killed the sharpest criticism of Goldwater—that he was dumb about Vietnam—by saying he understands all too well the cost of that war, blah blah blah.)

But this Palin chick is suffocating the dream. And sucking all the dramatic tension out of the Convention, which I’d hoped would be a Night of Long Knives, in which McCain and his band of secret agnostic assassins slit the throats of jerkbags who look like this:

I blame Obama and the wedgies he shoved into the evangelical base.

Now, by picking Palin, McCain’s put himself in bed with people who write crap like this (from an evangelical blog):

I have been amazed at the number of younger evangelicals (early career and college) that are flocking to Obama. He has the mark of cain and is proud of it, yet that seems not to matter to them.

(Mark of Cain? Real classy, Christian guy. American Evangelicals: Marrying Idiocy and Bigotry Since the Flood™.)

McCain could’ve done the right thing—lost the election while getting rid of the most pernicious force in American politics since racism. But he had to go and pick Palin for vice president.

But she’ll always be McCain’s vice to me.

For the most part, I’ve felt okay about all the new versions of Hershey Kisses that have bombarded the market the past few years. Plain ol’ (cheap) milk chocolate wasn’t enough for the world, consumers wanted variety. So Hershey’s (as you no doubt noticed) started introducing new flavors of Kisses… dark chocolate, mint, cherry, motherfucking NEW YORK CHEESECAKE.

Some were flops (raspberry and strawberry), some are now a permanent part of the Hershey Kisses family (peanut butter and caramel).

But this season, they’ve gone too far; this season, they’ve introduced Candy Corn Kisses.

They look like candy corn—layers of white, orange, and yellow white chocolate—and they smell like the artificial vanilla lip gloss I wore in sixth grade. They taste like store-bought Betty Crocker frosting, but instead of being creamy, sugary, and delicious (and on top of a cake) it’s in solid, striped form. That’s what makes it wrong. It’s like eating a big chunk of sweetened chemicals. While I was able to stomach one (for the sake of science) co-worker Anthony Hecht spit it out immediately after it touched his tastebuds.

It’s not like this is filling a big hole in the market, either. Candy corn already exists as its own kind of candy. Was it really necessary to make it into a Hershey Kiss? If I wanted to eat candy corn, I’d eat some motherfucking candy corn. This brings nothing new to the table.

They’re available at QFC, should you want to try it. You sick bastard, you.

(While we’re on the subject of candy, did you know they have Pomegranate flavored Tootsie Pops? The pomegranate trend is officially absurd.)

And what is this all about?

The family of a British soldier serving in Afghanistan has been forced from their home after a poisonous spider hitched a ride back with him and apparently killed their pet dog.

The camel spider’s bite is not deadly to humans but can kill small animals.

Lorraine Griffiths and her three children, aged 18, 16, and 4, moved out of their house in Colchester, southeast England, and are refusing to return until the spider is apprehended, the UK Press Association reported.

Griffiths told the East Anglian Daily Times that the spider appeared after her husband, Rodney, returned from a four-month tour of duty in Helmand province, the arid southern Afghan frontline in the fight against Taliban extremists.

“My son Ricky was in my bedroom looking for his underwear, and he went into the drawer under my bed, and something crawled across his hand,” she told the paper.

She said their pet dog Cassie confronted the creature, which they identified on the Internet as a camel spider, but ran out whimpering when it hissed at her.