Right Wing Reasoning

Friday, 20 February 2009

If you're not eating, hungover, or otherwise at risk of nausea, go read this article by Ann Coulter.

Stopped screaming?

Ann Coulter is not famed for her logic. But let me just blow her entire "argument" apart very simply...

Most single mothers are not single by choice. Their poverty - which is the main risk to their children - is not their choice.

And as for the college-educated single mothers by choice, there is no evidence that their children are harmed (and are likely to do well by having a committed, caring, older and better educated parent, and also likely a parental support network; having put this much thought into parenthood, these women are likely to make sure they get things right).

There no doubt are women who irresponsibly enter into single parenthood without the resources to adequately support their children, but they would be a tiny minority of single mothers.

Let's just thank heaven that Coulter has never met the right man for her and is so against single motherhood. At least we know the line ends here.

The Definition of Bogans

Monday, 16 February 2009

I came across this on a Biggest Loser forum, and it was so apt, and amusing, I just had to share...

"Live in the outer western suburbs and have low education levels. Usually work in low paid and menial jobs i.e. factories and supermarkets. Give BBQs where everyone brings their own meat, hamburger patties, cheap breakfast sausages and massive lumps of blade steak. If lucky, the host will provide a catering pack of nasty pre-prepared potato salad, half a wilted lettuce and a few tomatoes cut into chunks with a tin of beetroot and a couple of fried onions. There will be plenty of bottled but cheap brand BBQ sauce and tomato sauce. The hostess will also graciously provide a slab of semi frozen cheesecake, again in a caterer's pack.

For the men, they will be seen entering the BBQ with a slab of beer on their shoulders (not their favourite brand, but the cheapest). They will attempt to leave with a slab of beer on their shoulders (their favourite brand). The women will arrive with a couple of bottles of fruity lexia and think they are upmarket because it is in a bottle, not in a cask. They will drink half a bottle and be totally shickered.

The men will wear tshirts and jeans with either a cheap knock off pair of sneakers from Target which attempts to copy a pair of more expensive sneakers or a pair of cheap rubber thongs. The tshirt should feature a heavy metal 80's band. The women will wear cheap knockoffs resembling something Paris wore in the women's mag photo last week.

They will drive what is normally classified as a 'hoon' car and will owe more than the car is worth to a finance company. It's generally acceptable to heavily decorate the car with fringed rear windows and a set of dice hanging from the rear view mirror. The more metallic and hideous the colour of the car, the better. The sound system in the car will cost more than it will cost them to educate their 4 children from kindergarten to legal school leaving age.

General topics of conversation will be celebrities, pop music, TV programmes, local sporting teams and motor sports. If they get really into a conversation, they may stretch themselves and make a small statement about the price of food.

They will own a rottweiler or a 'pig dog' for 'protection', but the kids will be living in mortal fear of the dogs who will receive better food and attention than the children."

They don't always live in the Western Suburbs, either. I have been to that barbecue. Many times.

Problems With Kevin's Package

Wednesday, 11 February 2009

As other events in the world slowly seep back in to news bulletins, Kevin Rudd is now relying on all seven of the cross bench senators to get his fiscal stimulus package passed. I dearly hope he succeeds. Of course I do - I want my $950!

I promise I'll use it wisely. And I will be generous, if not quite as generous as the victims of the Ingham floods in Queensland who, having their homes and businesses themselves, donated their flood relief assistance payments to the Victorian bushfire victims. I'm staggered in the face of such altruism and heart.

But us childless middle-income earners never, ever get any goodies from the Government. So you can imagine our excitement at being included. Let us do good with the money, but please don't take it away from us.

Some are doing well from the downturn. JB Hi Fi have reported that their profits increased 40% in the second half of 2008 (due in no small part to myself) and McDonalds have reported increased takings as well. Too poor or afraid to splash out on restaurant meals and holidays, we're turning into a nation of even fatter, lazier couch potatoes.


Here we go again

Tonight is the Socceroos World Cup qualifier against Japan. If we win tonight, then on the numbers we're almost guaranteed qualification to next year's tournament. It seems wrong to celebrate at a time like this, but if we win, tomorrow I'm wearing my Socceroos T shirt to Kinokinuya and running around the Japanese language section shouting "We won! Suckers!"

I can't imagine why I don't have a boyfriend.

The Victorian Bushfires

Monday, 9 February 2009

If I may attempt a moment of levity, Nathan Rees has offered Victoria the help of the NSW Government. John Brumby replied "Thanks, but things are enough of a disaster down here already."

But in all seriousness, disaster doesn't even seem to cover it. Catastrophe perhaps. I don't know.

There were warnings this would be worse than Ash Wedesday, but I thought that was the hyperbole used to make people take the threat seriously and make preparations. Then When I first woke on Sunday the death toll was reported at 25. How the hell do 25 people die in a bush fire in this day and age? I wondered. I was thinking of isolated deaths, people fleeing in cars. Not whole towns being destroyed, with residents in them.

Through the day the death toll mounted - 35, 49, 66, 84. And then you couldn't take it in any more. The sight of the Victorian Premier and hardened newspeople breaking down. The stories of unimaginable horror.

As I write this, the death toll from the Victorian bush fires is 130, and still rising over the hours. It may go over 250. 750 homes have been destroyed. There are whole districts rescuers have yet to visit. Firefighters have battled blazes on two hours sleep, themselved battling burns. Some have lost their families as they tried to fight the fires.

It's the worst natural disaster in Australian history. And I've run out of words. I don't want to watch and read updates, but I can't make myself stop.

Please go here to make donations to help the fire victims.

It Never Gets Any Better

Sunday, 1 February 2009

Forgive me if this post is slightly incoherent. You see, I'm still bereft. Yesterday I had a horrible hair cut.

If you look through the archives for 2005, you'll see many posts complaining about bad hair cuts. I had short hair back then, and fell a frequent victim. Eventually I grew my hair out and only needed the occasional trim for the next few years. But now I'm back on the short hair wagon, and am vulnerable to disasters like yesterday...

Recently I read that the boop-boop sound in the song Tainted Love "sounds like the car horn in a clown car". I don't know about you, but to me that's comedic genius. So when I was sitting in the chair at the hairdresser's yesterday and Tainted Love came on, I immediatley burst out laughing.

I couldn't think of a way to explain to the hairdresser. She evidently thought I was laughing at her, and therefore punished me with a Betty-Rubble-Helmet thing.

Don't laugh at the hairdressers.
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