Archive for the 'Dipshittery' Category

Herding cats; or, why Zuzu hates group projects

Library school is very big on the presentations and the group projects. I understand why; after all, during an interview for a position as a librarian (especially in the academic context), you will be expected to do a presentation for about an hour (including Q&A) to show that a) you can successfully research something and b) you can convey the results of your research, which is something you’ll be expected to do frequently on the job.

The value of group projects I’m less sure about. Sure, you can show that you work well with others, but I’m going to guess that most of the time, when you have a group project on the job, it will involve someone assigning work to various people, who will then have clear goals.

The group project I’m currently working on isn’t quite like that. We have 10 people — the entire class — working on the same project. We will all get the same grade. We’ve had to decide how to split things up ourselves, and nobody’s in charge (though, thankfully, someone has taken the reins by setting up the wiki and doing the kind of administrative stuff that will shape the project).

These things *can* work, if you have clear areas of responsibility so that one person isn’t stuck doing all the work and everyone else free-rides. Or if you don’t have any problem children who don’t work well with others.

We’ve already had a problem child emerge. Continue reading ‘Herding cats; or, why Zuzu hates group projects’

This week in fat hatred

Item the first: Anti-donut signs can get you fired from your job as a county health director, but only if you name and piss off local businesses:

A 38-year-old former Army doctor who served in Iraq, Newsom returned home to Panama City a few years ago to run the Bay County Health Department and launched a one-man war on obesity by posting sardonic warnings on an electronic sign outside:

“Sweet Tea (equals) Liquid Sugar.”

“Hamburger (equals) Spare Tire.”

“French Fries (equals) Thunder Thighs.”

He also called out KFC by name to make people think twice about fried chicken.

Then he parodied “America Runs on Dunkin’,” the doughnut chain’s slogan, with: “America Dies on Dunkin’.”

Some power players in the Gulf Coast tourist town decided they had had their fill.

A county commissioner who owns a doughnut shop and two lawyers who own a new Dunkin’ Donuts on Panama City Beach turned against him, along with some of his own employees, Newsom says. After the lawyers threatened to sue, his bosses at the Florida Health Department made him remove the anti-fried dough rants and eventually forced him to resign, he says. . . .

In May, lawyers Bo Rivard and Michael Duncan, co-owners of a new Dunkin’ Donuts, asked Newsom to take down the “America Dies on Dunkin’” message. Newsom already had run other anti-doughnut warnings, including “Doughnuts (equals) Diabetes,” and “Dunkin’ Donuts (equals) Death.”

The businessmen had the backing of County Commissioner Mike Thomas, who owns a diner and a doughnut shop. Thomas called for Newsom’s ouster, saying the doctor shouldn’t have named businesses on the message board.

Note the two statements I’ve bolded. If that’s not conflation of health and thinness/aesthetics, I don’t know what is. But what I find a little disturbing is that his bosses were okay with this kind of hatefulness being funded by the taxpayers until the businesses he called out by name lawyered up.

Continue reading ‘This week in fat hatred’

A train of thought about public health brought on by a glimpse of ironic facial hair

My mind goes to some odd places sometimes.  And today, the sight of a hipster with ironic facial hair on the subway (and of course he got off in Williamsburg) led to some thoughts about public health.  The sight of ironic facial hair led to thoughts about such facial hair worn non-ironically, which led to thoughts about men who wore such non-ironic facial hair, which led to thoughts of C. Everett Koop and his Gorton’s Fisherman beard and naval-looking uniform, which led to thoughts of the whole debacle of Obama nominating Sanjay Gupta as Surgeon General, which led to the realization that it’s been over two months since Gupta withdrew his name, we’re in the middle of a public-health crisis, and . . . we have no Surgeon General.

And Obama hasn’t even floated any names to replace Gupta, as far as I can tell.  This isn’t like not having anyone helming HHS at the start of the swine flu; the problem there was that Kathleen Sebelius’s nomination wasn’t being acted upon because the shit-for-brains forced-birth contingent decided to demagogue.  At least there was a nominee.

But as important as it is to have a Secretary of HHS in place, it’s the Surgeon General who leads the Public Health Service, and pandemics and epidemics are under the aegis of the Public Health Service.  We’re in the middle of the beginning of a possible pandemic, and Obama doesn’t even have a backup after his completely ill-suited first nominee withdrew?

Oh. Boo. Hoo.

How little sympathy do I have for Travis Henry?

Travis Henry was rattling off his children’s ages, which range from 3 to 11. He paused and took a breath before finishing.

This was no simple task. Henry, 30, a former N.F.L. running back who played for three teams from 2001 to 2007, has nine children — each by a different mother, some born as closely as a few months apart.

Reports of Henry’s prolific procreating, generated by child-support disputes, have highlighted how futile the N.F.L.’s attempts can be at educating its players about making wise choices. The disputes have even eclipsed the attention he received after he was indicted on charges of cocaine trafficking.

“They’ve got my blood; I’ve got to deal with it,” Henry said of fiscal responsibilities to his children. He spoke by telephone from his Denver residence, where he was under house arrest until recently for the drug matter.

Henry had just returned from Atlanta, where a judge showed little sympathy for his predicament during a hearing and declined to lower monthly payments from $3,000 for a 4-year-old son.

Three days after the telephone interview, he was jailed for falling $16,600 behind on support for a youngster in Frostproof, Fla., his hometown.

“I love all my kids,” he said in the interview, but asserted he could not afford the designated amounts, estimated at $170,000 a year by Randy Kessler, his Atlanta lawyer. Kessler said Henry was virtually broke.

$170,000 a year works out to $18,888.88 on average per child.  Obviously, some are getting more, such as the 4-year-old in Atlanta, but it works out to an average of $1574 per month per child.  Which is neither a huge burden for a pro football player with a $20 million contract *nor* a huge amount of money relative to what it costs to clothe, feed, educate, shelter, entertain and transport a child.  His cocaine habit probably cost more per month.

Actually, he got cut loose from the team because of injuries and the cocaine thing.  So he’s only been paid $6.7 million.  Are those tiny violins I hear? Continue reading ‘Oh. Boo. Hoo.’

David Brooks soils himself in fear over Michelle Obama’s biceps

Let’s ignore for the moment all the other dreck in this typically specious MoDo column. Let’s focus on the glimpse she gives us into the psyche of David Brooks:

Let’s face it: The only bracing symbol of American strength right now is the image of Michelle Obama’s sculpted biceps. Her husband urges bold action, but it is Michelle who looks as though she could easily wind up and punch out Rush Limbaugh, Bernie Madoff and all the corporate creeps who ripped off America.

In the taxi, when I asked David Brooks about her amazing arms, he indicated it was time for her to cover up. “She’s made her point,” he said. “Now she should put away Thunder and Lightning.”

I’d seen the plaint echoed elsewhere. “Someone should tell Michelle to mix up her wardrobe and cover up from time to time,” Sandra McElwaine wrote last week on The Daily Beast.

Washington is a place where people have always been suspect of style and overt sexuality. Too much preening signals that you’re not up late studying cap-and-trade agreements.

David was not smitten by the V-neck, sleeveless eggplant dress Michelle wore at her husband’s address to Congress — the one that caused one Republican congressman to whisper to another, “Babe.”

He said the policy crowd here would consider the dress ostentatious. “Washington is sensually avoidant. The wonks here like brains. She should not be known for her physical presence, for one body part.” David brought up the Obamas’ obsession with their workouts. “Sometimes I think half the reason Obama ran for president is so Michelle would have a platform to show off her biceps.”

Oh. My. Continue reading ‘David Brooks soils himself in fear over Michelle Obama’s biceps’

Because of course there are no female bankers

I’d love to do a thorough fisking of this article on “Dating a Banker Anonymous,” and what it says about how society views women, how the New York Times views women, how the New York Times really needs to hire writers who didn’t all go to Dalton and Nightingale, and how these women view themselves (hint: as accessories for rich, powerful men), but I rather feel the need to take a shower.

Haven’t you people done enough damage to the country?

Really, really not a good time to be pushing Jeb! for the White House.

Why I have millet in my shoes

Those bulk-bin bags at Fairway aren’t very strong.

Cleanup at Register 8!

Get a grip

In response to my post below, Deb, who shares the same IP address as Chris T, and who I’m sure fancies herself the biggest animal lover in the world, left the following comment:

Okay, so what was the point of this little story? You are selfish? You are irresponsible? You have a dog for all the wrong reasons? Junebug is no longer your dog? Junebug decided to remain loyal to her family, the family you have dumped her with time and again?

If you have one ounce of humanity in your egomaniacal little soul, you will walk away, leave Junebug with her family, and not look back. You will, for perhaps the first time in your life, think of Junebug’s needs first.

Oh, and the next time you think about obtaining a living being to be your security blanket, the next time you want an animal so that you can play with her/his emotions in order to make yourself feel good, the next time you want to hurt a dog over and over again by dumping and reclaiming him/her, don’t. Just don’t.

Dissed? I think not. It’s not even payback. It’s just you getting called on your abominable behaviour.

Good luck, Junebug. I hope you and your family have a long, happy life together.

I love it.  I’m trying to decide what the best situation for Junebug will be — coming home with me or staying in a situation that she seems to have settled into quite well, with people who love her and take excellent care of her — and somehow this constitutes not “think[ing] of Junebug’s needs first” or “obtaining a living being as a security blanket.”

Now, Deb can’t answer because I’ve banned her for this bullshit comment — since I don’t have to tolerate this kind of thumbsucking when I’m paying for the bandwidth — but I sure would like to know how Deb has decided that I’ve “dumped” Junebug “over and over” simply by asking friends to watch her for a weekend now and again, much less that I’ve “hurt” her by doing so.

It seems to me that Deb — and all of the people who engage in this kind of drive-by pet-mommying, and they are legion — cannot possibly be over 12 years of age.  Because that kind of absolutist gobshite is what I’d expect from a particularly rigid child who hasn’t quite gotten to the stage where nuance is an easy concept, much less any sort of ability to adapt.

See, Deb, if you really think that dogs are going to fly apart if you leave and come back, that tells me that you have no experience with life, or with animals.  And that if you do have experience with animals, that you treat them like baby dolls rather than as beings that have to deal with disappointment now and again just like the rest of us.

So fuck off, Deb.  And all the rest of you drive-by pet mommies who might be tempted to try to comment here.

Walking away

I posted this video over at Feministe, without comment, under the title “Just a wife.”

I made the mistake of thinking that the readers of a feminist blog might be interested in some pretty egregious sexism, because that’s the kind of thing that feminist blog readers are supposed to care about, right? I mean, dismissing a two-term U.S. Senator as “Mamie Eisenhower” and dismissing the trips she made as First Lady as no more than your travel agent does and then snickering about it with Joe Scarborough and Tucker Carlson is just the sort of thing that most feminists get upset about when they see it happening, right?

But I forgot. It’s not a big deal when the person being dismissed is Hillary Clinton.  It’s the Clinton Rules.

Silly me.  I thought these were things we were supposed to care about no matter who is the target.  God knows I’ve found myself defending Michelle Malkin, Ann Coulter and Laura Ingraham from sexist bullshit, so I think my bona fides might have been established.

I can’t do this anymore.