Sweet Pickles

Facebook Tips for the Politically-Incorrect

Ya know how, when friends of yours get tagged in the photos albums of people whom you aren't friends with, you can still see all the photos in that other person's album?  Word to the not-so-wise:  try to think ahead to your first job interview before uploading all of your photos.  Check out this gem I just stumbled across...

Offend much?  Am I overreacting, or wouldn't the Halloween costume on the right (unfortunately, he was tagged only as "Lil Wayne") constitute blackface anywhere else in the country?  With regard to church attendance, it has often been said that 11:00am is the most segregated hour in the American week.  In our town, it appears that downtown on a Friday night would be an equally segregated time of the week.  Otherwise, this colostomy bag (or rather, the contents of one) would have gotten his ass kicked on the streets of one of America's twelve "coolest college towns."  

I realize that, when we're 19 or 20 years old, we don't always make the smartest decisions (I certainly didn't... check out my GPA, or my Valtrex prescription).  Even at my own extremely liberal undergraduate institution, fraternities were frequently in trouble for this kind of stupidity.  I also realize that, typically, our state is about a quarter of a century behind the rest of the country when it comes to national trends.  But come on.  Really???  Who still thinks it's okay to do this on a public sidewalk in 2009?  Obviously, some undergrads where I teach still do.  Luckily, the cheerful young woman rubbing up on the colostomy bag was tagged by name.  And I'll be saving this picture, just waiting, in case she ever runs for public office. 

Friend-Request Dilemma

A couple of months ago, I received a friend-request on Facebook, from a dude from my high school.  It was one of those that could have gone either way:  accepted, or relegated to the friend-request graveyard (i.e., my in-box of pending requests, where half of the friend-requests I receive go to die a slow death from neglect).  Technically, he didn't meet any of my criteria (you need to hit one to get past the velvet rope and into the exciting online world that is Sweet Pickles' Facebook page):  1.)  Have drunk with me at least once in the past decade.  2.)  Have ever had a photo taken together with me.  3.)  Have met one of my parents.  4.)  Be a student in one of my classes (former student if you're not international). 

I had been friends with the dude's younger sister, and worked a couple of summers with his younger brother.  I knew his parents a little bit, and always enjoyed being around them.  And I can recall having had fun with him at a couple of parties back during the first Clinton Administration.  So, I figured, what the hell, and accepted. 

A couple of weeks ago, he posted a status-update that read:  "Hang the white man from the watermelon tree."  At first glance, I was all WTF?!?!  What on earth could this possibly mean that isn't just totally unacceptable?  Since he had placed this status-update within quotation marks, I wondered if it could be some ill-conceived commentary in which he assumed his readers would catch his meaning without context.  I googled the phrase, to see if it turned up anything that, perhaps, he was trying to be ironic about.  Nada.  For the first time since accepting his original friend-request, I actually went into his FB page to try and figure out what this might be about.  The first thing that jumped out at me was the biker do-rag he had on his head:  a Confederate battle flag kerchief.  A small detail I had never really noticed because of the tiny size of his profile picture.  With THAT little piece of context, I scrambled for the delete button.  I don't like to rush to conclusions, but whatever the hell seemed to be going on, my instinct was telling me that I didn't want to stick around to figure it out.  And my visceral response was that 'hiding' him from appearing in my feed wasn't enough.  This represents my first actual 'de-friending' of an individual for any reason other than confused identities or the clean-up sweep in which I first instituted my criteria. 

Fast forward to last week.  Dude has sent a SECOND friend-request AFTER the de-friending.

Question:  Do I...

A.)  Respond with a reason, detailing my concerns, or

B.)  Just leave this second one in the friend-request graveyard to die a slow death with the rest of them?

P.S. - Have any of you ever heard anything similar to his status-update?  Is this some poem I've never read, or a famous quote I've never heard of, or the punchline of a bad joke from the 19th Century?  Is there something I'm missing here that could possibly put this in a less offensive light?

Enough Already (Again)

I had a very nice weekend, until Sunday.  A relaxing Friday evening... stayed in, ate my favorite nachos for dinner, and read.  Saturday was a spontaneous daytrip in to the Bluff City with M-Shan and D-Hug.  We listened to D-Hug's This Ain't No Disco mix that she burned for me (get yours at WCFC while supplies last!), had Ethiopian food for lunch, joked about buying 'quinn-noah' at the hippie grocery store and about buying thongs at Old Navy.  Met friends at Snackbar that night for drinks.  Then sometime Sunday morning, rolled over in bed to hear rain outside.  Again.  All day.  All night.  And still today.  My whole Monday was off... my mood was just shot.  It's too early in the fall for it to be this chilly, this wet, and this dark for this long.  The whole month of September has looked and felt like January.  And to add insult to injury, it's supposed to be like this until NEXT Sunday!  That will make it a full month with less than a week of sunshine.  I just can't.  I'm starting to think I should be pursuing a faculty-exchange in Dubai.

On a totally unrelated note:  When I logged in to Typepad a few minutes ago, this was their Question of the Day:

Reagan had bowls full of jelly beans; Obama, M&M's. If you were elected President, what would you choose as the official White House candy?

I can't decide whether mine would be Jordan Almonds or Maple Nut Goodies.  What would yours be?

In case you hadn't noticed...

it's still raining.  Five days ago, I was pissed off enough already to post about how much it had been raining.  And it hasn't stopped since then.  Guess what kind of mood I'm in now.

I don't know where to start.

Sometimes, I think that, for those of us who teach at Ye Olde Academic Sweat Shoppe, our lives jobs would be easier if we worked at a Wahhabist madrasah.  Then, we'd know what we were dealing with... no surprises.  But here at Ye Olde Academic Sweat Shoppe, much of the student body passes easily for educated and mature members of Western civilization in the 21st century. 

Yesterday's op-ed piece in our campus newspaper (which I only now stumbled upon), contributed by an irate student, doesn't just appall me.  It actually strikes fear in the heart.  I am a friend of the professor being attacked, and when I think of all the art history that I have ever taught here (nudes, absinthe addicts, gory execution scenes, depictions of catamites, fertility idols, artistic media using bodily fluids, you name it), I realize that this could very well be one of my own classes being publicly vilified by someone who has absolutely no understanding of what it is I'm trying to do.  But what will really keep me up at night is not the brazen willingness to publicly declare oneself a philistine on the campus of an American public university, but the number of respondents for whom this student's call for censorship and moral condemnation is heroic and worthy of emulation. 

My first instinct (as usual) was to fire off a pointed response.  However, I worry that I might be developing a local reputation for that sort of thing.  Additionally, I worry that, whatever rational defense I might offer would only harden her convictions and incense her fellow jihadists.  Furthermore, M-Shan's and Frenchie's responses (among others) appear to have already handled the situation nicely (they've got this one).  So, I thought I'd vent my spleen here instead.  Below, I've posted the redacted text of the student's letter, and inserted my own responses in italics.  Here we go...

I began this semester as a student enrolled in a junior-level modern foreign language course, heading for a certain minor to support my English major.

After the first class period, however, I withdrew from the course, and am now questioning the minor, though I had planned on it for some years.

Although the professor’s vibrant personality and obvious love for teaching recommended him to me as a good teacher, his course syllabus gave me reason to re-evaluate not only him as a teacher, but the Department of [x] and [Ye Olde Academic Sweat Shoppe] as sources for my education.

Re-evaluating opinions about people based upon their approaches to teaching and learning is a two-way street, sister. 

My first question is whether the teachers must have their syllabi examined by the department before using them in class?

Yes, we must.  But not for the reasons you're thinking.

If so, then perhaps the information causing me such grave concern will not be new, but it is even more shocking for having been approved.

As a disclaimer to any film material used in the class, the syllabus includes a section describing the type of “mature” content the teacher plans to utilize.

His purpose, I specifically remember, is to teach not only the language, but the culture from which it comes. The content includes sexual acts, violence, profanity, illegal drug use, nudity and a few other forms of immorality. He cautioned the class to understand that though such issues are not suitable for children, we, as adults, should not be offended, as we surely experience the same things in daily life. If anyone is offended, he strongly suggests he or she drop the class immediately.

The professor's first and only mistake would appear to be any assumption on his part that students such as yourself would be as mature as the content of the films mentioned in the syllabus.  To be honest, I have never thought to forewarn enrollees that they might be offended by some material in my classes.  Being offended is a part of life, and most certainly to be expected in any learning process.  Count yourself lucky if you manage to finish a bachelor's degree without being offended by something.  Personally, I am offended that you're offended.  But what I don't understand is what part of the content description has you up-in-arms?  All it says is "includes sexual acts, violence, profanity, illegal drug use, and nudity."  Which of those, by definition, is inherently 'immoral'?  What if the sex acts are between husband and wife for procreation?  What if the violence is in self defense or an act of war?  What if the pot is being smoked by people from Amsterdam who don't know the American laws governing drug use, or if a terminally ill patient is abusing prescription medication?  What if the nudity is nothing more than a character changing clothes?

I am not “offended,” but disgusted! As a married woman, I am certainly well acquainted with mature subjects, but that does not mean I condone them.

Wait, what?  I have no idea what 'mature subjects' are going on between you and your husband with which you are well acquainted but don't condone.  This sounds like a personal problem.  Perhaps a private session with a marriage counselor might be a more appropriate forum than the newspaper.

Neither do I want to base my education in their exploitation. Had I wanted to watch dirty movies to learn Spanish, I would not have worked so hard to get to [Ye Olde Academic Sweat Shoppe].

'Exploitation?'  What led you to believe the professor would be collecting a cover charge to watch "Girls Gone Wild" in the classroom?  'Dirty?'  How old are you?  I'm guessing either 7 or 77.  Either way, 'dirty' is a personal value judgment that tells me absolutely nothing about the objectionable content of any of these films (but tells me a lot about you).  Or is there mud on the DVDs?  Speaking of descriptive choices, aren't you supposed to be an English major?  But forget all that... what I really want to know is, did you really "work hard to get to" this school?  Really??  But, be glad that you ended up where you did, because if this content warning has got you so worked up about something you've never even laid eyes on, then what is happening in the classrooms of our nation's best universities would BLOW. YOUR. MIND.

After all, most DVDs today offer Spanish subtitles or voice-overs.

Are you implying that you were doing the Spanish language a favor by studying it?  Spanish doesn't need you, thanks.  You need Spanish.  And a lot of other courses.

While such immorality is indeed a part of many people’s daily lives, it is not right, and my desire is to always encourage my peers to rise above their circumstances and strive for a better way of life.

Look, Church Lady... I don't know what conclave of cardinals elected you pope, but nobody gives a flying sexual act about your opinion of what is 'immoral' or 'right' in other people's lives.  What about that biblical injunction against judging others?  Frankly, I find your whole attitude immoral.  So stick that in your incense-burner and smoke it.  If your desire is to encourage your peers to rise and strive (according to your own individual standards), then A.) you probably should have worked harder to get into a seminary instead of a public university, and B.) do the rest of us a favor and get a new hobby.  

I do not intend to watch filth for entertainment, nor for the purpose of learning a language.

That's what the content warning in the syllabus was all about, Stephen Hawking!  But I guess it's not enough to exercise your own conscience and free will, you've got to exercise yours on behalf of the rest of us?  No thanks, Mom.  And I love that the U.S. Supreme Court has yet to be able to define what constitutes obscenity, but an undergrad at this school has got it all figured out.  If not a seminary, how about law school?

Understanding culture, of course, is the automatic excuse for allowing such trash to be shown to a classroom, but that is all it is - an excuse!

I know you may find this hard to believe, but you are not at a stage in you own education to be able to pass critical judgment on much of anything.  Being a tuition-paying customer does not make you an expert.  All you've got are personal opinions.  Which are like a certain body part that I hope you never have to see in a movie.

I have lived in South America and have traveled through Mexico, and my family, overall, is very well traveled.

Having visitors from Africa, Asia, Europe, Canada, South America and the Middle East was a common occurrence in the house where I grew up, and I tell you now that it is an insult to those honorable people and their countries to assume that understanding their culture requires an examination of pure trash!

First of all, why do I suspect that, by "South America" you really mean the American South? Or that Africa, Asia, Europe, Canada, and the Middle East are probably stand-ins for Harlem, Chinatown, Little Italy, New England, and Detroit?  Either way, a passport doesn't make you an authority on understanding other cultures.  Taking off your own burkha would be a good first step, if you really want to learn about the rest of the world.  Regardless, I seriously doubt that Spaniards would be insulted to learn that you watched an Almodovar film in class.  Actually, I imagine they would take greater offense at the idea of some puritanical American college student trying to 'clean up' something their own culture produced.  Trust me, I've had one or two real, live ones inside my own house (which obviously makes me an expert on how España feels).

Immorality is not specific to any one culture, but common to all peoples.

Goooood.  But now take the next leap:  No two cultures define immorality in exactly the same ways. 

This very university is known well for its drunken revelries, but that can be clearly understood without exploiting the shame of others on a screen for our entertainment or so called “education.”

If, as you assume, drunken revelries are immoral, then you don't see any educational value in studying the phenomenon and increasing awareness about it?  How could Nancy Reagan warn the country's youth about the dangers of drugs if she couldn't even mention the words "drugs," much less show in some meaningful way the negative aspects?

I know full well that illegal drugs run rampant in many Central and South American cultures, but I can know that and understand that aspect of culture without a video slamming it before my face and demanding the full concentration of my mind.

If you never watched a video about the topic, or concentrated fully on it, then how on earth do you even know about illegal drugs running rampant in Central and South American cultures?  These are the logic and debating skills that the university you worked so hard to get in to are turning out?

I also am well aware that young girls were purchased by the multitude from Asian countries to serve in brothels, but should I watch a girl be stolen and raped before my eyes to gain that knowledge? Certainly not!

Now you're going to compare this professor's syllabus to showing rape videos?!?!  Quit inventing unrealistic example to make your case, you sick pervert!

Because class participation and attendance is worth 25 percent of the overall grade, I knew that to simply take absences on the film days would pull my grades far below their current standing, and I was not willing to accept that.

Look, Saint Luke... if your righteous convictions mean anything, you've got to make sacrifices.  So march your transcripts right up onto the gallows and slip them inside the hangman's noose.  What the hell kind of martyr are you?  Put your money where your mouth is, and maybe then I'd be willing to listen to your preaching.

In short, I am not a prude, but I am not willing to sacrifice so dear an aspect of pure mind and clear heart for the mere reward of education. I have worked hard to get where I am, and I will continue to move toward my aspirations, but I hope I will never do so at the high price of a mind and heart corrupted.

The way you have railed against filth and trash and immorality thus far could be considered a textbook example of prudishness.  But you're actually much worse than the average prude... you're a prude on a mission to pressure everyone else into prudishness.  And quit singing your own praises already (pride?)!  You have neither a pure mind nor a clear heart... it would appear that you have a closed mind and a hardened heart.  If the reward of education is so trivial, then I can't fathom what your aspirations might be, why you're here, or why you published this in the first place.

For the sake of those students too ashamed or too shy to stand for what is right, I wrote to the department, asking them to reconsider this aspect of the class’ “education” and question whether it is really necessary to incorporate such filth into any course, much less one offered to students who are struggling to make good life decisions.

You're real sweet to do that for all the other students, Messiah.  But quit assuming that you know what is right.  Instead, try "to stand for what I believe is right."  And do you not have any clue how utterly deranged you sound using words like "filth" do describe what basically sounds like a PG-13 movie?  Finally, all of our classes are offered to all students, including those not struggling to make good life decisions, and those who want to see the material.  And don't worry so much about the poor students struggling to make good life decisions, Tony Robbins.  They're big boys and girls, and it's none of your business.  Besides, how can they triumph over evil if they're never given the opportunity to reject temptation?

Their response: “Thank you for writing… Your remarks have been duly noted.” The rest of the e-mail consisted of polite niceties.

Isn’t that great?! My extremely concerned remarks have been “duly noted.” 

What did you expect?  Wait, let me guess... an indecency trial leading to a public stoning?  A school-sponsored burning of R-rated DVDs that you've never even seen?  I figure you're lucky that's all the response you got.  If I'd been the one answering the department's email when this came across the wires, I doubt your cloistered sensibilities could have handled the response.  Somebody would have gotten told.

What the hell kind of morning was THIS???

Leaving the house this morning, Sexy Edward wouldn't start.  My first call for a ride was a bust because JustJess is laid up with a miserable infection and some loopy antibiotics.  Luckily, M-Dev was able to hook a brother up.  Arriving at the office, we later discovered that our secretary was late because her car wouldn't start either. 

Everyone has been oooh'ing and ahh'ing about the Santa Barbara weather today, but if today's events are any indication, this week is off to an assy start.  And about the weather, if it's below 60F in the morning with high temperatures expected only to reach 80F in late August, this doesn't bode well for the winter to come. 

K-Wad was able to meet me at my house after work and we managed, on the fourth attempt, to get Sexy Edward jumped off.  I drove straight to the mechanic's shop, and was able to leave Sexy Edward with them.  Dude just called to say that all it needs is a new battery.  After a morning like this one, that's the best news I've heard all day!

No nap for SP!

Just came home to a warm house.  I could hear the A/C running, but the temperature reading was at 79F (although the thermostat was set for 70F).  Please, please, please, whatever it is, do not let this cost more than a hundred bucks!  And please, please, please, let it be fixable before I have to go to sleep.  The heating-and-cooling guy thinks he can get someone out here before the end of the day (fingers crossed), but I know the Magnolia State. 

I really need a nap since tonight is our last hurrah for summertime Tuesday Night Trivia at 10:30pm, after grilling out at K-Fiel's with her out-of-town visitors.  But even if I didn't need to stay fully clothed in case the repairman shows up, I don't think I could actually fall asleep when it's this warm inside.  Why couldn't this BS have happened at any time over the past two weeks, when the daily high temperature never broke 75F? 

Ode to the Elusive Stapler

Over at Rate Your Students, a forum where those of us who teach college can kvetch, a recent post made reference to one of my favorite questions from students:

Do you have a stapler?

No, I don’t have a stapler. Did I have a stapler the first three times you tried this? See, I didn't write a paper that needs stapling. You did. Do you know who does have staplers? The store. That’s right. They are fully stocked. And I hear they barter goods for cash and coinage, so why don’t you plan on walking yourself over there at some point and picking one up? Excellent.

I liked this instructor's response, because it so closely parallels my own attitude in this particular matter.  When I was in grad school, if anybody had told me that the most recurring annoyance of teaching at the college level would be the dearth of stapler ownership among the teenage children of the privileged castes, I wouldn't have believed them.  At least 5 minutes of Sweet Pickles' beginning-of-the-semester 'Fair Warning' lecture (the 'shock and awe' kick-off to every Sweet Pickles class) is dedicated to the stapler.  In fact, the first day of class is the only occasion when I actually bring a stapler with me to class (in order to introduce this rarest of artifacts to students, and to demonstrate how it is used).

For any readers who are also combatants down in the trenches of pedagogical warfare, I'll pass along this small bit of ammo if it helps you to keep fighting the good fight.  This excerpt is a sample drill of what Lieutenant S. Pickles puts his incoming recruits through at the beginning of every semester (i.e., pre-stapler-ownership)...

This device is known as a stapler.  It is used to attach multiple pages, thus keeping them together and in their intended order at all times.  The model that I've brought with me for the purposes of illustration and demonstration is the personal property of your instructor, and today is the first and last time that you will ever lay eyes on it.  My stapler is shy and doesn't like to travel, although it generously agreed to come show itself to you today for the sake of education.  Because one fascinated student last semester tried to touch it, my stapler was against coming today, but I told it that part of the college experience should be exposure to different things so that students won't be frightened of strange new ideas like stapling, and so it relented.  As I said, after today, none of you will see my stapler again.  Ever.  That is because neither my briefcase nor my laptop bag is your mama's purse.  Similarly, I will never have a calculator, a Kleenex tissue, or some Tic-Tacs for you.  While I recommend highly the purchase of a stapler as a worthwhile investment for the next 6 years of your undergraduate studies here, I do recognize that some might not be able to afford one.  In that case, I would advise you to consider stapler-possession when deciding whom to date this semester.  "What is so necessary about having dependable access to a stapler," you might be asking yourselves.  In this course, and likely in others, you will be required to complete and submit assignments whose length will, on occasion, require more than one piece of paper.  In these instances, folding down the corners together like you did in junior high school will no longer suffice in the grown-up world.  Neither will paper clips, glue, saliva, rusty nails, caulk, chewed bubble gum, or fishing hooks.  And as part of my 'Fair Warning', I'm gonna let y'all in on a little secret about the first thing I do after collecting student papers... after class, I take the stack of papers outside into the parking lot (hoping that it's a particularly windy day), and toss them sky-high.  After gathering all of the scattered sheets, I take them home, tap a box of Franzia, and get out my red pen.  Any random, unidentified pages are discarded, and any first pages missing their following pages are marked 'F' with the speed of lightning.  This really cuts down on the amount of grading I have to do, which is time-consuming and labor-intensive.  Part of me wants to kick myself for giving you this 'heads-up', but I believe the children are our future.

What the???

Apparently, the temperature is 73F right now.  In late July.  Which might not sound too bad until you factor in the rain.  Today felt like the last night of Hanukkah, and not in a good way.  Enough with the clammy, soggy-ass weather already!  This nonsense lost its cuteness last week.  If I have to wear something warm to work again before football season, I'm going to start feeling cheated out of summer (which will turn Sweet Pickles dill).  For dinner, I'm wishing that we still had that Bavarian restaurant in town, so that I could go get something warm and hearty for dinner, although it's already so dark and cold outside, I hate to stray too far from my fireplace on a night like this.  "Where's my sweater?"

Know what I'm tired of?

The ubiquitous misuse of the adverb too, in place of so or very.  You know what I'm talking about.  When you and your girls went out last night and split a dessert that was too delicious, and the bartender was too cute, and y'all had too much fun, and took some pics that were too hilarious (and then posted those pics along with some of your kid that were too precious).  What especially chafes is how this particular irritation is too 2007, and it wasn't cool even then.  File this annoying habit under "How to Lose a Guy in 20 Minutes."

Douchebaggery

Mark Sanford (the the married politician billing taxpayers for his international airfare to a booty-call in the Pampas), has apparently decided that he will not resign his position as governor of South Carolina, citing King David as his example.  The biblical hero David, progenitor of the messiah?  OH REALLY?  If casting about for a biblical adulterer with which to compare yourself, try Potiphar's wife.  Because your political résumé doesn't quite hold up.  David was a giant-slaying anointed dynasty-founder.  You are the sleazy governor of a not-all-that-important state.  On The Daily Show tonight, host Jon Stewart (and Member of the Tribe) said it best... something to this effect:  If you are a conservative Christian caught in adultery, don't use my book in your justifications... use your own!

Tragic

A close-up view of young Miss Fox's hammer-thumb that Brad found.

It's over.

This just in from Brad Bagby... he and Megan Fox are breaking up.  He can't deal with her thumb.  I have to agree with Brad... if Megan wants to do sexy times, she's going to need to wear gloves. 

Ya know what I don't like?

When people's second toes are shorter than their big toes and middle toes (like I just saw waiting in line at the cash register at the gas station).  It doesn't appeal.  And I shouldn't even have to be seeing that weird shite in the first place if people would just learn Sweet Pickles' Universal Truth #291... Sandals ain't mentioned in the Declaration of Independence for a reason: Not all feet are created equal. 

I suspect that this problem stems from the fact that a lot of people must have no idea that they have got ugly feet.  I'm thinking of starting a new policy, in which I point out to violators, "God DAMN, your feet are fecked UP.  You need to keep that nasty shite to your self!"  Then, I bet people would think twice about leaving the house with their second toes shorter than their other toes.   

Who is "Little Caylee"???

And why the hell does she have her own 24-hour television channel?  According to a Wikipedia article, she's a child who went missing sometime LAST YEAR, whose mother was indicted sometime LAST YEAR, and whose remains were discovered sometime LAST YEAR. 

For months and months and months now, I haven't seen anything on CNN's Headline News that isn't about "Little Caylee."  The world's in the midst of a catastrophic economic meltdown, and our country is fighting two wars abroad, but I can't find any information about that on HLN. 

I can't wait to hear grown adult broadcasters code-switching between pompous legal jargon and baby talk about "poor, sweet Wittle Caywee."  Quit trying to pull on heartstrings, you jackasses.  Obviously, it goes without saying that the killing of a child is the most heinous of murders, and even more so when a parent is responsible.  Our species recognizes this fact instinctively and viscerally, and we don't need a network dedicated to 'news' to remind us every waking moment. 

CNN should start being honest with viewers by changing the channel's name (and its own name) to The Child Murders Network's Dead Babies Sideshow, because really, there's no news being broadcast here whatsoever.  It's only "Little Caylee," every night.  That is, until the trial is over.  Then HLN's caring 'journalists' will be on to the next ratings-boosting tragedy involving another murdered child, and "Little Caylee's" name will never be mentioned again by the network that is so obsessed with milking her name at this moment. 

It is gratuitous, distasteful, unethical in its profiteering, and non-stop.  But CNN is only the dealer who traffics in this kind of dead-baby porn.  It's the dead-baby junkies that watch this shite, and thus create the market for it, who really undermine my faith in humanity.  They are sensationalizing the horrific death of a child here, people!  It's reprehensible.

And here's what took my breath away... the only let-up in HLN's "Little Caylee Murderama" was a brief interlude in which Nancy Grace (the bloodsucking host of this travesty of news) displayed pictures of her own twins Lucy and John David (excuse me, Little Lucy and Little John David) doing adorable things, with sentimental music playing while the proud mom narrated the high jinks of her two little rascals.  I was dumbstruck.  While I imagine that Vampira Ms. Grace would defend her motivations as being those of a mother herself who wants to see that justice is done in the case of "Little Caylee," it came off as callous... a woman whose career appears to benefit indirectly from the continued perpetrations of gruesome crimes against other people's children showing off her own. 

In addition to changing its name, I also think that CNN should commit to airing a one-hour "Remembering Little Caylee" memorial special on the anniversary of her death, every year until the child would probably have died of natural causes had she not been killed (let's say 2087).  And if, in the year 2061 or 2079, annoyed viewers might ask "Who is Little Caylee, and why does she get a one-hour special every year," then you will have to tell them:  "Little Caylee's tragic death was the most important news story of 2008 (and 2009).  The world was a very different place before the events of her death.  No child had ever been murdered before that, and none have ever been murdered since.  What happened to her altered the course of human history on this planet.  When you think of the year 2008, Little Caylee is the single most important historic event to remember. Nothing even remotely as significant happened that year."  Otherwise, you'll have to tell them the truth... that your network devoted tens of thousands of hours of 'news' coverage to sensationalize the sad death of a child. 

But even if Sweet Pickles were still alive in 2061 or 2079 or 2087 (I'm assuming that Ms. Grace, however, will be), he wouldn't be seeing any of the annual "Remembering Little Caylee" specials, because he's taking HLN off the "Favorites Channels" listing on his remote control.  Right now.  And forever. 

This steaming pile...

is apparently available on DVD now, because I see it advertised during every commercial break on television.  I couldn't find an embeddable trailer for Fired Up, which is probably just as well because the trailer alone is enough to make my ass hurt.  But if you're in need of an emetic, you can find the trailer for this 'triple threat' ("Funny, Sexy, and Smart!"  SMART?  For reals??  Wouldn't "profound" or "epic" or "a cinematic tour de force" be less of a stretch for this movie's marketers?) on Youtube.  In an internet age when teenagers can easily access material a hell of a lot more sexified than this bowl full of shite, exactly who is the target audience for this?  I mean, why would anyone pay to see this, no matter how young or stupid you are?  Whose the bigger threat to the Darwinian survival of Western civilization, al-Qaeda or the producers of this travesty of youth entertainment?  Neither.  It's the strap-ons willing to pay money to watch it.  Fired Up proves Sweet Pickles' old adage true... "People are DUMB, y'all."

Sweet Pickles gots back (and not in a good way)!

I sometimes forget how taking a late shower (instead of first thing in the morning) is usually a bad idea, because I might already have my contact lenses in (and thus, can see my naked self in focus).  Passing the mirror on the way to the shower, I thought for a moment that Kim Kardashian might have been lazing around my house in the nude.  Although nowhere near as pretty in the face as Kim, Sweet Pickles has a similar motor in the the back of his Honda.  Although my weight gains are primarily and fairly consistently ass-centric, that is by no means my only issue.  I am constantly baffled at where this excess weight comes from, because I've never really been a big fan of the food.  But a realization that I've long struggled to suppress is dawning... I've known all along who the real culprits were, but I didn't want to admit to myself what they're doing to my body because they're two of my oldest and dearest friends:

At a minimum, I need to drop 22 pounds and cut my body-fat percentage in half before Perdido (mid-August) if I want to wear my H&M swimsuit (instead of something from the Big and Not-So-Tall Men's store).  When I put it on now, my ass pushes the waistband so far away from my back that people can easily slip things down the back of my trunks (and I mean things like ice-chests).  I don't need people asking me "Hey Sweet Pickles, would you carry these lawn-chairs down to the beach for us on that large shelf you call your ass?"  With that threat looming, I think I'm going to start blogging more about trying to reduce the junk in my trunk, as a way of keeping on track and committed.  So, be on notice that this could be a summer full of weight-related postings that you can feel free to ignore.  Note to K-Fiel:  We're gonna need to start incorporating that Stairmaster into our exercise regimen.  Note to all my co-barflies:  Please help me to keep my drinking regimen strictly in the vodka zone. 

Just FYI...

It's 56F here right now (the date is 11-May).  Just so ya know. 

You know what I hate?

Dumb people.  They're even worse than unattractive people and poor people.

I just noticed the page of this 'volunteer organization' on Facebook.  My favorite quote was this:  "Keep on clicking and with each click you force a private sponsor feed a child a meal! How easy is that!"

Oh really?  It's that easy, huh?  I only wish the world had had the power of magical clicking back in the mid-1980s... I'd have really loved to help Ethiopia's children, but my Sony Walkman didn't have a clicking function.  And does the creator of this Facebook page mean to suggest that we live in a society where we can simply force private parties to do what we think they should be doing?  If so, I'd like to force him or her to attend the ass-kicking I'm planning on his or her behalf.

The creator puts the annual number of children who die of starvation at 6.5 million, and this Facebook group of do-gooders currently has over 1.5 million members.  By my math, the global hunger crisis should have been solved already, if each member had accomplished just 4.33 clicks.  Get busy, you lazy bitches!  There are children starving in Biafra while you complete another personality quiz to determine which character from The Hills you're most like.  Let's stay focused here, people. 

Before I pull an all-nighter of philanthropic clicking (just give me 24 hours and a box of Franzia, and I'll take care of it myself, since our registered legions of clickers-who-care cannot be bothered to follow though on their noble intentions), I'd like some more specifics, please.  For example, what constitutes a "meal" exactly?  What kind of food will my coercive clicking deliver?  And what child will be the lucky recipient of my digital benefaction?  I mean, how do I know that Meals-on-Wheels won't mistakenly deliver my order of Fruit Roll-Ups to Rocco Ritchie?  Or what if Meals-on-Wheels drops off a dozen bags of pork rinds on the doorstep of some Islamic orphanage in the Sudan?

I realize that I'm probably preaching to the choir here, but in case anyone beyond Sweet Pickles' inner circle might stumble upon this post, let me say this in response to such inane efforts at charity: 

Instead of feeding a child with a click, try feeding a child with a check.  Or better yet, get the hell off Facebook and off your ass, and actually do something more meaningful than anonymous clicking if the problem (whatever it may be) bothers you that much.

Honestly, I suspect that the founders of this kind of site are probably sociopathic computer geeks who have a lot of free time on their hands and get off on using their technological skills to see just how gullible the general public actually is.  So that the computer geeks can get back to their Dungeons and Dragons, let me save them the time with this important announcement:  People are DUMB. 

Now, move on.

Antisemite of the Week

This week's Mel Gibson Award goes to...

Pat Oliphant, Universal Press Syndicate political cartoonist, bigot, and creator of this image:

Still hating China's government, but now South Africa's can suck it too.

What kind of government denies a visa to the Dalai Lama???  I'm about to reserve a place on my sh*t-list (see sidebar) for South Africa.  They must be trying to impress the IOC.  Don't call it a "peace conference," and then bar a laureate of the Nobel Peace Prize from attending.  But if you insist, then come out and be upfront about it.  Call a press conference in which the presidential spokesman says to the international media, "Look, we're whores."

Is there nothing the civilized world won't do to maintain trade relations with the People's Republic of China?  I mean, at what point will responsible governments finally be willing to say, "f*ck it, we can't do business like this"?  Cattle-cars?  If Iran or North Korea had even half the population of China (i.e., were as large a potential market), neither would be isolated by the international community.  Instead, they'd be hosting the next Olympiad.  I understand realpolitik, but come on.

DirecTV needs to offer some kind of cafeteria plan!

This past week, I called DirecTV to explore options for how I might bring down my monthly cable bill (approx. $70) during this Suave-and-tunafish-salad economy.  What I learned was pretty infuriating.  I've got 3 boxes (living room, my bedroom, and one of the guest bedrooms), but disconnecting one only lowers my bill by five bucks each.  So, I asked about channels and packages, considering that I only watch less than 22 channels on a semi-regular basis.  Apparently you can't get BBC America except as part of some ridiculous package.  I also love how every package is loaded up with religious channels and shopping channels.  I asked the dude on the phone if the packages-in-question included any Jewish religious programming or home-shopping channels where you could buy stuff from H&M, but I think you already know the answer.  In my current cable television package, I have access to a lot more channels than that, but I've only got 22 saved in my "favorite channels" that I ever even browse through, and most of those are nothing to write home about:

CBS - I don't even know what's on network programming anymore.  Sometimes if I get bored waiting for The News Hour to come on PBS, I'll see what's happening on the nightly news on the networks. 
NBC - Ditto.
PBS, Memphis - I do watch a bit of PBS on a pretty regular basis (Washington Week, Nature, Now, Bill Moyers Journal, etc.).  But whatever happened to the great line-up of British sitcoms that PBS used to do?  It seems like that has disappeared so slowly that I hardly noticed.  Regardless, isn't this one free anyway?
FOX - Better than the other major broadcast networks.  I like MAD TV and all of their animated stuff, but that's about it. 
PBS, Jackson - Basically duplicates the function of PBS, Memphis, but all the annoyingly folksy BS programming is about our less interesting state.
ABC - See CBS and NBC.
CNN - This one appears to be all Anderson Cooper, all the time.
Headline News - Far worse, this one appears to be all Nancy Grace, all the time. 
E! - I think Chelsea Lately might be the only thing I'm getting off this one. 
Comedy Central - Probably the one I watch the most (Futurama, South Park, The Sarah Silverman Program, and sometimes The Daily Show, The Colbert Report, and Reno 911!).
BBC America - Whatever happened to all the great shows they used to do?  I still watch their news, and How Clean Is Your House, but the rest is a faint echo of the channel's former glory. 
History Channel - Pretty dependable. 
Bravo - I totally got in to Millionaire Matchmaker, My Life on the D-List, Project Runway, Tabatha's Salon Takeover, and The Real Housewives of Atlanta, but nowadays, it seems like I'm mostly watching reruns of Kathy Griffin's standup comedy.  Still, it would be in my Top 5 choices if I could get a cafeteria plan with DirecTV. 
National Geographic - I like Dog Whisperer, but there seems to be way too much programming about life in prison. 
Nickelodeon - Strictly for Spongebob Squarepants.  Everything else on there (i.e., tween programming) makes my ass hurt. 
MTV -  Either I'm too old, or MTV completely sucks now (possibly both).  If they're having to do Real World: Brooklyn, it's over.  Here's what it has come to: True Life, Room Raiders, Paris Hilton's My New BFF, My Super Sweet Sixteen, Parental Control, and absolutely nothing musically-related whatsoever.  But I still keep it on my "favorite channels," hoping Martha Quinn will stage a comeback.
MTV2 - Why do I need a second channel for this shite?
VH1 - I think I might actually hate their programming even more than MTV's.  Rock of Love Bus?
C-SPAN - Their specialty programming has only gotten better over the years, but I can't live on a diet that's 50% congressional hearings.
C-SPAN 2 - Ditto.
MSNBC - Dateline and Meet the Press are good, but like once a week.
The Weather Channel - Honestly, I have this one in my "favorite channels" because I like to look at maps.  But I can't do that for more than a few minutes at a time.  Plus, I own an atlas, so...

The question I'm having to ask myself is, Is this worth $70 per month?  I don't really want to lead one of those no-television alternative lifestyles, but this is feeling exploitative.  The bigger question:  In an age where technology has revolutionized our access to entertainment media, why hasn't any of that effected television?  When I want to download Hilary Duff's Reach Out from iTunes, I'm not also required to purchase the Spice Girls' Wannabe (I'm looking at you, K-Fiel).  When I want to go see Slumdog Millionaire at the movies, I don't have to buy a ticket for He's Just Not That Into You as well.  How has this racket been perpetrated so long?

What do y'all do?  Any suggestions/recommendations?  Or willingness to organize a boycott or a revolution?

Spring Cleaning: Update

Dishwasher has been unloaded and reloaded with stove-top burner covers, plastic knobs/dials, and glass plate from the interior of the microwave.  Kitchen trashcan has been hosed down, scrubbed, and disinfected.  One kitchen countertop has been scrubbed down and disinfected. 

Got dizzy from 'better-living-through-chemistry', so took a break to chat with T-Bagg and then Mama Pickles.  Delta Dawn by Tanya Tucker had come on the Party Shuffle, which reminded me of T-Bagg, who had a miniature Schnauzer named after that song.  Her and Brad Bagby are in San Antonio (where it's 85F today) with her father and my godchildren, doing the Alamo, the River Walk, Sea World, etc., while the kids are on Spring Break.  Then I called Mama Pickles to ask a cleaning question.  She said "Do not put your coffee maker in the dishwasher!  Use an old toothbrush to clean in all the nooks and crannies."   So, I just finished scrubbing that biotch out by hand. 

A little while ago while I was fumed up in the kitchen, Hands Clean by Alanis Morisette came on the Party Shuffle.  That song was out the summer I bought my house in 2002, and I will always associate it with my first (and probably only) real estate purchase.  As I scrubbed, I remembered how excited I was back then, and how bright and shiny my new house was, and it motivated me to continue on with this cleaning BS.  And then I got all verklempt thinking about old friends who were here to share my excitement, but have moved away since then.  J-Klo, N-House and D-House, E-Liz, H-Sinn, M-Sull, C-Nav, F-Preiss, C-Günth, a dozen Art grad students, and so many more aren't here to get drunk at my house (or help me clean it after a party), and that's making me a little sad :(

Is live-blogging the cleaning of my house the boringest idea ever, or what?  I suspect it's a form of avoidance, or at least, procrastination. 

The project has begun!

The stove top is clean (including under the lift-up), and the burner plates are soaking.  Now, I'm working inside the microwave, and the good news is:  I think some kind of miracle cure for some disease might be in there.  The bad news is:  GRO. DY. 

"Kiss Me" by Tin Tin in on the Party Shuffle, which is making me feel a little better.  So is my third (and final) cup of coffee. 

I'll keep y'all posted.

I'd rather eat a spider.

This afternoon, I went to the fridge for a Diet Coke.  As I opened the fridge, the bottom shelf of the fridge door detached from the door, and an expensive-ass bottle of white wine fell to the floor.  The drop was only about 6 inches, but enough for the bottom of the bottle to come clean off.  I thought that I had gotten it all up with wet paper towels, but when I went downstairs a few minutes ago, the living room and dining room and kitchen all smelled like white wine.  I could smell it from halfway down the stairs, and I was like "Oh no... I'm gonna end up having to clean this entire bitch, ain't I?"  Not that Casa de los Pickles didn't need it already.  And it is close to time for a pre-Passover spring cleaning anyway.  But house cleaning is not something I want to eff with on my Spring Break (although I suppose it's better timing than the middle of a busy week).  Still, this Suave and tunafish-salad economy is starting to make my ass hurt... you know times are tough when Sweet Pickles has gotta clean his own house!

On the upside... maybe if I get things presentable, and if the weather is as nice as it was this afternoon, we can have a little "Cheap-Wine Tuesday" on my porch.  The we could go into town and get grody!

Side Note:  I've had my iTunes playing on the random "Party Shuffle" function while I've been typing, and Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusik just came up.  What the hell kind of "Party Shuffle" is that?  Better question, how the hell did that get into my iTunes??

Well, surprise, surprise.

Age-faking is a "widespread practice" in Chinese sport, huh?  Oh really?  Who knew.

Note to International Olympic Committee:  Keep up the good work!

The sooner the world finds an alternative to oil...

the sooner there won't be enough revenues to fund religious police.  WTF is wrong with Saudi Arabia?!?!  I sure hope the IOC doesn't get wind of this, or else the world community will be sitting through an Olympiad in Riyadh or Jeddah in August of 2016! 

Open Letter to the IOC

Dear Pollyanna International Olympic Committee,

    I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt, and call your past decision to award the 2008 Olympic games to Beijing "childishly hopeful" (rather than "criminally negligent").  Although given no reason whatsoever to be optimistic, you gave up unconditionally the one carrot that the international community could have possibly wielded to ameliorate some of the worst excesses still being perpetrated by the Chinese government against the people of China.  Well, now the Games are over, and it will probably be at least another quarter of a century before another Chinese city can reasonably be expected to bid for another Olympiad.  Which translates into another generation of Chinese that will have to endure secret prisons and martial law. 

    On behalf of totalitarian regimes everywhere, thank you.  Dictatorship couldn't be maintained for so long without your help. 

Sweet Pickles

Oh, it gets better!

In response to the U.S. State Department's recent travel advisory about Mexico, our campus newspaper's editorial board published an editorial titled "Just Say No to Mexico."  In it, the writer stated that "Mexico is known for the hot weather, the cheap booze and the parties."  Maybe to most 18-year-old, illiterate binge-drinkers.  But who wants to confess publicly to such ignorance?  In addition, the editorial claimed that "Mexico is known for being risqué, corrupt and all around dirty."  Oh really?  To be honest, when I read descriptions of hot weather, cheap booze, parties, and being risqué, corrupt, and dirty, I don't think of Mexico.  I think of our own campus every weekend there is a home football game. 

I realize that this isn't a 'real' newspaper, but rather a practice exercise for young journalists-in-training.  But it certainly imitates the appearance of a newspaper, and I fear that most of its readers aren't bright enough to know the difference.  I'm starting to wonder if our campus wouldn't be better off we didn't just put the campus 'newspaper' out of its misery.

Teacher of the Year Award: Ineligible Nominees? Those who teach the most.

It's that time of year again.  Time to encourage our faculty to delude themselves.  And time to make Sweet Pickles' blood boil.

Annually, the university where I teach goes through the pretense of caring about "excellence in the classroom" by calling for nominations to receive the Outstanding Teacher Award.  Sounds worthwhile enough, except here's the catch:

"All assistant, associate, and full professors are eligible."

Oh, really?!?!?

Don't ask students to "help bring recognition to an outstanding teacher who has inspired you," and then cut in half their choices.  If a university really wants to honor excellence in the classroom, how can it limit the potential recipients of such an award to the tenured or tenure-track professors?  Maybe (if an institution is lucky) about half the courses offered by any given academic department are taught by a department's full-, associate- and assistant-professors.  The other half are taught by adjunct instructors and lecturers, graduate instructors, visiting professors, and sabbatical replacements.  As if these poor suckers aren't exploited enough, why add insult to injury? 

As a full-time instructor who has taught for-credit coursework in two different departments on our campus, let me share my insider's perspective and let you in on a little secret.  Sometimes, it's actually the worst teaching that happens in the classrooms of professors.  All too often, the protection of tenure can become a license to suck.  Unfortunately, the tenure track can actually hinder a teacher's ability to excel behind the lectern.  Reward their research, support their active engagement with their intellectual fields, appreciate their departmental and institutional service, but do not encourage them to think of themselves as the University's 'Outstanding Teacher of the Year' after arbitrarily disqualifying half the school's instructional faculty from the competition.  What kind of self-esteem-building BS is that?  Let's just give every teacher an award (à la kindergarten), because "everyone's a winner!"

I recognize how woefully our society undervalues what it takes to achieve a terminal degree and land a tenurable position.  But the just rewards are not to be found in a sheltered competition that deludes the professoriate and fails to acknowledge the reality in our lecture halls.  It's like designating an MVP in football, but only allowing the quarterback to be considered.  Fine, but don't call him "most valuable player"... call him "the best quarterback on our team." 

To my friends who are full-, associate- or assistant-professors:  I hope that you already know how much I admire and respect your teaching.  You wouldn't even know about this blog to be reading this if I didn't.  Because Sweet Pickles ain't friends with no sucky teachers, yo!  So, obviously, I'm not talking about you!  But you and I both know the tenured (and sometimes even tenure-track) members of your departments that I am talking about.  And when one of them who can't teach his or her way out of a wet paper bag gets this year's 'Outstanding Teacher Award', I hope that you'll remember all of your friends who are adjunct instructors and lecturers, graduate instructors, visiting professors, and sabbatical replacements, that can teach circles around strap-ons like that but weren't even allowed to be considered, and join us in our outrage and disgust. 

Ladies: Exams got you down? Date this catch, for his test bank!

Spinster Blames 'Lazy Professors'

In the bad joke that passes for a student newspaper on our campus (on any other campus, it would be used by the English and Journalism departments as a textbook for how not to write), today's installment included one gem of a letter-to-the-editor that actually managed to shock me:

To the Editor:

    [A student writer]'s article on test banks sounds just a bit whiny to me.  She is upset because she says that she did not have the same advantages as some athletes and Greeks.  Being an athlete or Greek is a personal choice, and belonging has many advantages, the least of which are test banks.  Miss [student's surname] proposes a "universal test bank."  Let's correct that; Miss [student's surname] wants a university test bank, not a "universal test bank." 
    Also, the university is not "enabling students to have an unfair advantage" as Miss [student's surname] suggests.  The unfair advantage is not given by the university, or even by the students that take the time to collect, sort and store these tests.  The advantage instead is given by the lazy professors, faculty and teaching staff that semester after semester, year after year, give out the same tests, exams and projects that they have had on for years or even decades. 
    So maybe Miss [student's surname] didn't ace every test.  Boo hoo!  Join a sorority, date a frat boy or just study more.  But don't blame the athletes, the Greek system or the university -- blame those lazy test makers.  Test banks would be useless without faculty and teaching staff that were too lazy to make out new tests.

    Miss [old-lady first name] [pretentious middle initial] [oddly-spelled surname]
    House mother, [a fraternity that has been suspended in recent memory]

I don't even know where I should begin with this, but I'm going to start with 'Miss.'  Before writing in to a newspaper, has this Victorian house mother ever actually read one?  Because I imagine she'd have to go back to some archived volumes of society pages from the Eisenhower era to find anybody addressing a college student by the title 'Miss.'  Better yet, what grown woman in 2009 would refer to herself with such a title?  I won't even go into my issues with using any honorific titles to reference yourself (bad form).  Is her signature some kind of advertisement promoting her own virginity?  I don't get it.  Considering the sentiments expressed in her letter-to-the-editor, I can only assume she's embracing her own spinsterhood.  If that's the case, leave the poor student writer out of your trip down Memory Lane, and sign off as "Not Getting Any."  Normally, I regard 'Miss' as a quaint archaism that has its place (e.g., engraved wedding announcements), and usually it doesn't bother me at all.  I also recognize that its use is generational.  I think of all the sweet grandmothers out there still signing their checks as "Mrs. Edwin G. Miller, Jr." or  "Mrs. Donald W. Anderson," even though they've been widows for decades.  That's their prerogative.  Hey, I'll call you whatever you want to be called (to your face).  But in this day in age, who would presume to address a college-educated female who isn't a personal acquaintance as 'Miss'?  Maybe this was the house grandmother's attempt at politeness?  Well, it comes across as condescending.  And out-of-touch.   Normally, I'm not the first to cry "Sexism!", but did Granny actually describe a complaint from a female student as "whiny," and then proceed to respond with "boo hoo" and "date a frat boy"? 

Part II of the Rant -- Did I read this correctly?  Did it seem to you that our Vestal house grandmother was, at least obliquely, condoning a certain form of academic dishonesty on the part of students?  Her 'argument' struck me as akin to ignoring crime because some police might be too lazy to prevent it from occurring in the first place.  I've worked with the kind of professor that Mademoiselle Can't-Get-Laid describes, and don't condone that kind of negligent testing.  But does the one mistake justify the other?  And what kind of idiot wants to be the public advocate for cheating?  Miss Priss would have made one hell of a defense attorney, although I suspect the masculine domain of law school might be too mannish for her delicate sensibilities. 

Part III of the Rant -- What kind of message is she conveying to the students in her care?  I'd advise her young charges that, in addition to being better for you in the long run, learning the material yourself (completing reading assignments, attending lectures, etc.) is no more labor-intensive than cataloging an archive of old exams to use in cramming sessions.  If you would spend your energies doing what is asked of you instead of diverting your efforts toward trying to outwit the professor, you would achieve much more. 

Part IV of the Rant -- "Being an athlete or a Greek is a personal choice."  Oh, really?  Is it now?  All you have to do is exercise your own freedom of choice, huh?  I wish I would have known that when I was an incoming freshman, so that all 120 pounds of my 5' 8" self would have chosen to become a linebacker for the Longhorns.  I guess the reason we don't have more female pitchers out there on our school's baseball diamond is because the female part of the student body just doesn't have any ambition.  And I wish more of the handicapped would get their lazy asses out of their wheelchairs and onto our basketball court.  Slackers!  As for joining a fraternity or sorority, isn't admission a committee decision made by the fraternity's or sorority's members?  And aren't membership dues pretty expensive?  Or is it that the non-WASPs that go to school here are just shiftless? 

Sweet Pickles might just need to write his own letter-to-the-editor.  It might go something like this:

    Dear Miss Self-Hating Female:

    Thanks for mentioning by name the fraternity house that you 'mother'.  As a member of the instructional faculty at this university, I will make it a priority to acquire a complete listing of that fraternity's membership every academic year, so that if any members should enroll in my courses, I'll make sure that they receive the attention they deserve.  Should you ever have the misfortune of meeting me personally, have your smelling salts at hand because what I have to say to you is not fit to print and will most definitely give you the vapors.  If my goddaughter comes to school here in future, and you try that shit you pulled on Ms. [student writer's surname] with her, I will beat you unconscious with whatever Jane Austen novel you crawled out of.  And if you cry about it, I'm going to tell you "Boo hoo.  Where's the frat boy you're dating?"  Kicking your ass will be my personal choice.  Consider yourself forewarned. 

    Signed:  Lazy Instructor

Cheer up, you little Okie wuss...

The Heisman voters have even shorter memories than the BCS voters. 

Oh, it just keeps on getting better and better, doesn't it?

Just to add insult to injury, because grand theft at the hands of the BCS wasn't enough, apparently.  Who exactly did Sam Bradford have to do in order to win over the only quarterback his team lost to this season?  Said young Mr. Bradford, "I was definitely surprised."  You ain't the only one, Curly!  All I can say is, I hope that God's sabbatical will be over by next football season, and he'll be back on the job again. 

A Belated Memo to the BCS

MEMORANDUM

TO:        The Bowl Championship Series

FROM:    Sweet Pickles

RE:         University of Texas

Dear BCS,

Suck it!!!

This is what Facebook is like for popular people...

Here's the transcript of an instant-messaging session I had on Facebook earlier with one of my oldest BFFs (we played soccer together the summer before 5th grade).  It might be difficult to follow because we were typing simultaneously and sometimes overlap in our responses.  Names have been redacted out, in order to protect the catty (Sweet Pickles and J-Ev) as well as the unpopular.  In it, you'll find: some useful tips, some great one-liners, and the all-time greatest mental image of Sweet Pickles EVER (you'll never be able to get it out of your head)!

J-Ev:  “SP--did i tell you that I vanquished K----- B------ from my friend list?"
Sweet Pickles:  “no. why? I need to vanquish about 50 losers from high school from mine.  Have you been getting zillions of friend requests from high school 'tards lately?”
J-Ev:  “yes I have. what's up with that?
Sweet Pickles:  “i don't know, but i've about had it. i officially hate our high school.  R—B--------??  REALLY???  I can't recall a single conversation with R—B--------.  And E--- R------ just sent me his SECOND request.”
J-Ev:  “Next it will be B----- S---------.”
Sweet Pickles:  “Guess E--- can't pick up on subtle hints, huh? At least B---- S--------- is someone i once knew well.”
J-Ev:  “i am sick of hearing about what A----- B---- Z---- is doing...”
Sweet Pickles:  “which is why i didn't accept her friend request.  her request to you seems even more baffling then hers to me.  were y'all ever tight?”
J-Ev:  “yes, i know.  J------- S----? I didn't like her.  And I really don't like J---- H-----...why is she my friend??”
Sweet Pickles:  “EXACTLY... hers was another i ignored. i actually actively dislike her still (although not to her face).  ditto here on J----  (who is pissed that I defriended her).”
J-Ev:  “why did you defriend her?  i mean, besides the obvious reason--her personality.”
Sweet Pickles:  “before things got out of hand, i tried to go through and unfriend people i should never have accepted in the first place. she's the only one who noticed, resent a request, then complained to B---- about it”
J-Ev:  “how funny. who else have you kicked out?”
Sweet Pickles:  “i can't remember who else i kicked off (because i hardly knew most of them), but i've ignored S-------- P--- too.  i mean, i liked S-------- P--- fine, but didn't even know if she was still alive really... so why would she need to know what's going on with me every day?”
J-Ev:  “thank you.  I think I need to be more selective with the friends”
Sweet Pickles:  “i did accept C---- M-----, obviously, as I really wanted to see his page. but he'll get the boot soon too probably.  some people i get requests from, i think of writing back to them "How dare you?"
J-Ev:  “B--- A----- keeps showing up in the "people you might know" section, but I am not going to make a friend request to him because of his dorkiness. Yea, C---- M----- is boring. How dare you!!! That's funny”
Sweet Pickles:  “oh, the best one yet!! R------ T------!!! What the????”
J-Ev:  “and C-------- R------“
Sweet Pickles:  “yeah, i thought you'd like "how dare you."  do NOT tell me C-------- R------ tried to friend you!”
J-Ev:  “yes, and I accepted it because I thought I had to.”
Sweet Pickles:  “sheesh!!!!”
J-Ev:  “Now I see that I don't...”
Sweet Pickles:  “here's a new tip i learned... don't click "ignore" button, just let them sit in your box forever, and that way, they can't resend!!”
J-Ev:  “Who is V------- H-----, anyway? I see her on several people's pages.”
Sweet Pickles:  “i got that one too (didn't accept). at first i couldnt figure it out, then.....  it dawned on me....  "Is this V---- A----????"  How dare she!”
J-Ev:  “How dare she indeed.  who is S----- W----- S----?”
Sweet Pickles:  “i have thought of changing my profile's name to "Sweet Pickles (not the popular guy from your high school, a different one who you don't know)"    that name vaguely rang a bell when she tried me, but i couldnt solve that one.    or how about this idea for a future response to requests....”
J-Ev:  “good lord everybody wants a piece of the pickle...”
Sweet Pickles:  “Technology certainly makes it easier to approach the throne, doesn't it?"
J-Ev:  “Yes. I do love that one, but "how dare she" is more to the point and reminds me of you with a black glove slapping someone's face.”
Sweet Pickles:  “ooooh, then i'll definitely stick with that one”

Sweet Pickles is devastated.

Crabtree Touchdown With 1 Second Left Lifts Tech

By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS 3 minutes ago

Graham Harrell fired a 28-yard touchdown pass to Michael Crabtree with one second left and No. 6 Texas Tech stunned No. 1 Texas Saturday night in a wild shootout.

You know who I'm getting tired of seeing on my TV?

Did I just hear Joe the Skinhead the Plumber say at a McCain campaign event that he planned to vote for 'a real American' ?



Note to Joe: I'd be careful about playing that game if I were you. Those of us 'real' Americans whose families have been in America since before the Revolution could very easily point out that, with a surname like Wurzelbacher, your own family probably wasn't at Jamestown or Plymouth. Or here before the Civil War, for that matter. You know what they say about people who live in glass houses. (Or rented trailers.)

Note to Joe's pick for prez: Not only is Herr Wurzelbacher not making this Republican want to vote for you, but now you're scaring me. This douchebag is who you want to make the face of my party? Really?? REALLY?!?! I had been thinking I'd go vote for other candidates in down-ballot races and just leave the box for president unchecked, but now I'm leaning toward staying home altogether on election day. Good work, Einstein. Or, better yet... keep this up, and maybe I will show up at my polling place on November 4th, and cast my first straight-ticket ballot for the Democrats in hopes that you'll get the ass-kicking you've been working so hard for. If you don't mind your career and reputation going down in flames, okay. After this sad-ass excuse for a campaign, that's exactly what you deserve. But you have a responsibility to the Republican Party... a responsibility not to pull it down with you. You better hope to hell you can pull a miracle out of your ass, because otherwise, it will take decades for the Party to recover from your mistakes. And that is how you'll be remembered forever. At your age, you don't have enough time to rehabilitate your reputation à la Richard Nixon.

I sure hope Whitney's wrong, and the children AREN'T our future!

If I were in charge at that school, Principal Pickles would be instituting a "Kick an Antisemite's Ass Day" to see how the four or five little bastards who organized this enjoy being singled out in front of their classmates.  Of course, I realize that sixth-graders aren't really capable of antisemitism, but I want those kids' mothers to feel the exact same emotions that the mother of the Jewish kid who was slapped in the face felt. 

Just a few reasons why THIS Republican won't be voting for president this time around

I'm watching tonight's presidential debate (the second one, in Nashville) right now.  For me, this debate has produced more questions than answers:

1.)  Is Gen. David Petraeus the ultimate expert on American foreign policy and security?  I'm not saying whether he is or isn't.  But if he is, why isn't he our nominee???  I don't know much about the General, but I do know this... he couldn't have run any worse of a presidential campaign than the circus Sen. McCain has blundered through for the past year.  If Sen. McCain would like to lose by only a respectable Gore-sized margin (rather than having his ass whooped by a Mondale-sized margin) in the Electoral College, he might want to quit mentioning Petraeus.  Invoking Petraeus so often isn't making McCain himself look any better. 

2.)  Did John McCain actually point a finger-gun at one of the questioners in the town hall?  OH NO HE DIDN'T!!!  Anybody who knows Sweet Pickles well knows that he ain't down with finger-gun pointers.  Or winkers, for that matter.  Do not get me started.  When did my party's ticket's nominees become the ticket of cheese???  It's starting to feel like the Hasselhoff/Lee-Gifford ticket.  Or maybe the Goulet/Baker-Messner ticket.  NOT COOL.

3.)  Did I hear Sen. McCain say something to the effect that "we can't afford on-the-job training"?  Cringe.  Ouch.  Uh, Senator... we forfeited the right to make that particular argument on the day that your seventy-two-year-old self announced your choice for a running mate.  Please quit talking while you're ahead only a little bit behind.

4.)  Could Michelle Obama possibly get any cuter?  On the flip side, did Cindy McCain not get my memo about backing off the bottle-o'-blonde a little bit?  If anything, her hair's gotten worse.  It's now the same color as Santa Claus's.  It's a tragedy, because she's really a pretty woman. 

5.)  Can the candidates not see those dial-o-meter results of the undecided Ohio voters' responses to what they were saying while they're onstage?  Because all the ladies sure were loving what Barak Obama had to say.  Whereas nobody got horned up about anything Sen. McCain had to say.  Including Sweet Pickles.

6.)  When Sen. McCain said that the most important quality in a president was whether or not the American people could 'identify with' the candidate... was it just me, or did that seem to have some ugly undertones?  I actually felt myself wincing.  Whether or not it was intentional, a politician performing at this level should realize how that could possibly sound in the first presidential election in which race is a factor.  For the adoptive father of a non-white child, I would expect Sen. McCain to be more sensitive about how this kind of statement could be interpreted.  As infuriating as I find the gross ineptitude of Sen. McCain's campaign, this is more upsetting.  It makes me wonder, what has this election campaign turned John McCain into?  Of course, winning is important.  But so is how you win.  With only a month left before Election Day, I've given up on waiting for Sen. McCain to inspire me to follow him.

Several birds with one stone (because I'm a multi-tasker like that)

Okay, firsta all... I'm sitting out on my back porch with my laptop and a Diet Coke, trying to enjoy the mild weather while it lasts.  But I think somebody's dog must've gotten underneath my porch and crapped.  Ima hafta go get the Lysol, 'cause it is RANK out here.  And I don't know how to make it go away. 

Seconda all... you know what else is gross?  Bud Light.  And even grosser?  Miller Light.  But not Coors Light, which is delicious (and kosher!).  You don't wanna use nice beer to make beery marys, but damn.  I'm just sayin'.

Thirda all... a new cleaning service came to refreshen Casa de Pickles.  I don't wanna get too excited yet, because I know they usually try to impress on the first visit so that you'll keep coming back for more, but this might be the best cleaning I've had since the mythical Sue retired from cleaning.  Now that Casa de Pickles is looking all rich again, I'm ready to have some heavy drinkers over to trash the place.

Fourtha all... what the hell is the deal with my image of macaroons?  Over the past couple of months I've detected a trend (not overwhelming but constant) by which much of the traffic visiting Sweet Pickles' blog are google image searches for macaroons.  And it's always an image search.  From different countries all over the world.  Why???  I mean, I know why I needed the image.  But how many people need pictures of macaroons?  Not information about macaroons.  Not recipes for macaroons.  Just pictures of them.  And when we're nowhere near Passover even.  Are office workers in Ireland or Brazil sitting in their cubicles, thinking "Damn, I sure would like to look at some macaroons right now!"  Are teenagers in Taiwan or the Ukraine going "What da f*ck is a macaroon?  Man, I gots ta see dis, son!"

So, if you're visiting this site accidentally on your quest for macaroon-related imagery, please drop Sweet Pickles a comment and let me know why you were interested in pictures of macaroons.  I am dying to figure this out.  Unless it's some kind of weird sexual fetish, then I don't wanna know.  I'm considering starting a new recurring feature on SweetPickles.typepad.com (something like "Macaroon Pics of the Week") to increase my traffic.  And, recalling how the world couldn't get enough of that Jaclyn Smith picture either, maybe I could generate a LOT of internet buzz with a feature about Jaclyn Smith eating macaroons. I'd be shutting down servers from Bangkok to Buenos Aires!

Fiftha all... I can't decide whether or not I'm excited about Israel's new acting prime minister, Tzipi Livni.  I mean, I like her, but I just don't wanna get my hopes up about what she might be able to accomplish.  Either way, I'm jealous that she couldn't have been McCain's running mate.

Why not Burma in 2016?

And this is the city that beat out Osaka for the 2008 games.

 

Unfortunately, it looks like only Tokyo, Madrid, Chicago, and Rio de Janeiro are among the final candidates to host the XXXI Olympiad. The IOC must be heartbroken that there's not a single totalitarian candidate to make it to the 'Final 4'. Especially after Magna Carta-loving London beat out Havana and Moscow for the 2012 games.

Oh, really???

Is anyone else tired of having their intelligence insulted?  Yet another reason I'm not watching the Beijing games. 

Question:

For how long is one legally obligated to wait at a red light before determining that a malfunction is preventing said light from changing to green, and thus proceed cautiously through the permanently-red light.  On the way to work this morning, I wanted to get something greasy (and hangover-ameliorating) at the McDonald's drive-thru window.  After a long journey driving 5mph down our fair village's still-unpaved main thoroughfare ("Welcome to Kinshasa!"), I sat for over five minutes waiting on the red light at the junction of Third World Boulevard and 50th-in-the-Nation Street.  I was part of the traffic on the major artery (Third World Blvd.), where dozens of cars sat backed up, trapped in a surrealist dreamscape watching tumbleweeds blow down the empty side-street (50th-in-the-Nation St.), wondering "This can't be for real."  By the time I finally got to McDonald's, they were no longer serving breakfast. 

I guess I should've known, by the way you parked your car sideways, that it wouldn't last.

Well... last night, the Lyric went and broke my heart.  It turns out that, like every other 'business' in town, the Lyric wasn't really a business at all (in the sense of a functioning establishment aimed at attracting and retaining customers because it exists to earn a profit).  Despite the big-city facade (electricity, running water, staff with teeth), the very local reality shone through the cracks last night. 

After at least a week of promotional advertising about a DJ starting at 7:00pm, M-Add and I showed up at 7:00pm to find the doors locked.  We went across the street and had a beer and waited.  At 7:30pm, doors still locked.  Beyond a band unloading equipment into a side door, no signs of life.  No sign on the door, nothing (apparently they can't yet afford any magic markers).  We went around the block and had another beer and waited.  At 8:00pm, the place was still closed.  Went down the street and had another beer and waited.  This represents the third beer M-Add and I had bought around town... money that could've gone into the pockets of the Lyric's owners, if only somebody knew how to unlock the front door.  I mean, even if the DJ hadn't arrived on time, they could've hooked up a bartender's iPod to the sound system and let us sit in the air conditioning buying their beer.  But apparently you need an MBA from Wharton to figure this out. 

By 8:30pm, it must dawn on some Einstein that customers can't come give you money if they can't get inside your 'business', and we make it in.  I decide to wait before opening a tab, because I'm not sure I want to stay (or to give any more money on top of the five-dollar cover to this 'business' that's just made me wait an hour and a half).  By 9:00pm, the DJ's been ready to go for some time now, but they still haven't got her plugged in.  To kill time, I figured I'd walk around and hang out upstairs.  Except they've got the balcony closed off for the night.  That's when Sweet Pickles finally said, "Enough.  I'm outta here, bitches."  And with Sweet Pickles, the Lyric's best word-of-mouth free advertising walked right out the finally-unlocked front door. 

Have you ever seen that season of MTV's The Real World, where a group of 18-to-23-year-old sluts and stoners must develop a plan and start a new business venture?  Well, last night made me suspect that that's what's going on at the Lyric.  Except that I doubt it's MTV that's footing the bill.  More likely, some suburban dentist or veterinarian from Germantown or Ridgeland has got a kid with not-very-good grades from a not-very-good university, and is flushing his retirement by setting Junior up to playact at operating his own 'business'. 

Who the hell still does this???

Cleaning their own house, that is.  I'm having my department over for a little dinner party to celebrate a colleague's birthday, and since I'm currently between housekeepers, I'm having to prepare the house myself.  This shite is for the birds, y'all.  I'm about to start mopping downstairs, and the thought makes me want to kill myself.  Last night, a friend gave me a good lead for a new cleaning lady, but it's too late for today.  Somebody get over here and do this for me!

Speaking of last night, big thanks to mladding for rocking out with our ESL students at 'the club' last night.  All I had to do was say "Hey, go dance with that Turk who's standing alone watching all the other students dance," and in a flash, she was on the floor dragging a Turk behind her.  Sweet Pickles loves command-performance booty-shaking! 

P.S. - My home phone just rang, and Caller-ID says the incoming call was from Newark, NJ.  Who the hell do I know in Newark??

Still hating the Beijing Olympics

China's original intention in seeking to host the 2008 Olympic Games was to enhance its image, so that China could finally get the respect it deserves.  Uh, not working.  The officially-sanctioned cheer for Team China makes the upcoming Beijing Olympics seem even more ridiculous (if that's still possible).  Thanks again, IOC!  Dumbasses.

Rant

Know what I'm not a big fan of?  The byzantine intricacies of buying beer in this town. 

I'm co-hosting a birthday party next week, and need to lay my hands on 3 cases of Tecate.  Thought I'd just pick it up when I went grocery shopping.  But I usually do grocery shopping on Sundays, when all the Low Church Protestants can be counted on to be in church all day long.  And I forgot that you can't purchase alcohol on Sundays here.  Literally, the aisles containing alcoholic beverages are roped off like a crime scene every Sunday.  It's like living in Riyadh, except everyone's fatter. 

So now, I'll have to make a second trip.  This is not efficient, and is only one of zillions of examples why this state comes in dead-last in every comparative measurement.   Memo to Mississippi:  if you ever want to move up to 49th, grow the hell up. 

And how's this for Low Church... driving home from the roped-off booze section of the Wal-Mart, I see this bigass billboard-size sign in the front yard of a home business that sells wrought iron:

"Take a stand for God.  Put God back in our lives, schools, and government."

And your front yards, apparently.  Ugh... poor people.

1.)   Your lives, schools, and government were never that great to begin with, you peckerwoods.
2.)  Whose god are you talking about, you crackers?
3.)  Whichever god you're talking about, keep him out of the booze section of the Wal-Mart, you cracker-ass crackers!

Sweet Pickles' thumb...

is doing fine. Sorry if I scared some of you.

This morning, I was moving a 9-foot table with someone even tinier than me (such a person does indeed exist). During the process, I got a splinter in my thumb that was as long as a Tic-Tac and a fourth as thick. I felt it go in, but because I was in the lead, I couldn't stop without the splinter being rammed into the flesh deeper. Which is exactly what happened. The amount of blood started freaking people out, but it looked worse than it felt. Getting it out, however, was another story.

I had planned to just go to the Urgent Care Clinic, but Professor Sunshine said "Oh Sweet Pickles, no! You can't sit in the lobby for an hour with people coughing and sneezing on you, and then pay eighty dollars to have something so simple done. Let J-Jack try to get it out... he's really really good at things like this." I was like, sure, please. After J-Jack's tries at manipulating it out (i.e., pushing it out backwards) fail, D-Mar is going to try with tweezers. We set up a mini surgical theater at the dining room table. No luck with the tweezers. Professor Sunshine believes she might can tease it out with a needle. What keeps complicating all of these attempts is the size and depth [that's what she said!]. We're getting it out in bits and pieces. Lots of blood, and the meat of my thumb tip is a bit pulverized. But, surprisingly, it doesn't really hurt like I expected. In the end, I'm just grateful to my surgical team for saving me eighty bucks and an hour of my life!

Everything's fine now. I've got a cool finger-tip band-aid on it, and it's already less sore to the touch.

Scratch That

Updated Note to D-Hug: Nevermind.