Whilst cruising past the really big news: TomKat’s bride’s new haircut (same barbershop, maybe?), Paris’ Potty Problems, and Angelina’s lawyer falling on his sword for Queen BigLips and Country—quite desperate to get the sweet taste out of my mouth—I encountered an ongoing debate on BlogHer.com raising the question of whether the nomination of a female as President of India is, indeed, empowerment or tokenism. Whether that’s the case or not—ground broken is ground broken.

Pressing on, I can’t help but reflect on the ongoing similar (however different) discussion about American Democratic front-runner, Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton—who, if you’ve just arrived on the planet, is a female, a Democrat and no matter what New-Yorkers say, is from Arkansas. That discussion cannot be separated from the same (but different) discussion about Sen. Barack Obama—whose name initially scared the shit out of (more…)

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In purusing the internet, which I do from time to time, I came across this website: http://www.amifatornot.com/index.php

So… being morbidly curious about all things weird on the internet, I clicked.  Now everyone and their ginger cat has heard of ‘Hot or Not’… but ‘Am I Fat?’  Are we really all so insecure that we need strangers to tell us whether or not we’re fat?

So… guess what.  Most of the people on that site (I got bored after 6 clicks so bear with me if I’m making sweeping statements here) are just NORMAL looking people.

It’s a sad testament to the insecurity of 95% of the population.  What’s even sadder is a couple of those people I saw on that site were downright SKINNY.

But then there’s the other side.. the part of US that judges other people based on how fat or skinny they are, whether or not they have nice hair, or their clothes are just right, etc etc etc.  We spend endless amounts of time primping ourselves up, but make sure to point out everyone else’s flaws, just in case someone didn’t notice that we are oh so much more stylish, sophisticated and svelt.

You know when we’re born, and should we be lucky enough to live a long time, when we die, we all sorta look like some variation of an elder winston churchill.  Whoever tells you babies are cute has some hormonal thing going on.  They’re tubby and squashed and flubby… and they scream.  But we like them for what they represent, so we call it cute.  Anyway, birth, death, we all look like varying shades of raisins and for somewhere between 20 minutes to 20 years in the middle we’re really quite appealing. 

Considering what a fractional moment it is in the lifetime of a human being, you’d think we’d have better questions to ask than: ‘Am I Fat Or Not’  How about: ‘Am I Judgemental.com’ or ‘Have I wasted my life and emotions on a corporation that can’t love me back.net’ or ‘Do I have to call other people fat/dumb/losers just to feel okay about myself.org’.

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In a recent issue of THE VILLAGE VOICE   Maria Luisa Tucker reports covering a sizeable White Supremacist rally in New York.   It seems that several white supremacist groups called for a ‘Patriot’ get-together over the three-day holiday.  They were to include the usual Memorial Day stuff, no doubt, barbecues, plenty of beer, picnics and, the customary visit on Sunday to “the incomparable Metropolitan Museum of (White) Art.”  Now, I don’t know about you, but what family get together is complete without a museum visit, especially if we can count on the art having been created by white guys.

New York native, Jamie Kelso, a former Mensa member was in charge of the charming Sunday outing. In a pre-outing phone interview, he was asked how we might expect to see people dressed (One supposes there would be a dress code for such a gathering. After all, girlfriends, we wouldn’t want to wear khaki Bermuda shorts, Docksiders & pink Tommy Hilfiger shirts to be embarrassed at–what–underdressing, should other attendees be wearing Olive Drab uniforms, small black moustaches, or frocks from Springmaid.)    Kelso’s reply was that many preferred wearing “silly costumes” but there was no intention to “incite hate.”

Guys who are “man” enough to call themselves Copperhead, EuroWarrior14 or LongKnife are, no doubt, good old boys.  They proclaim their democratic leanings and patriotism, in fact, saying, “People want to think that we’re weird,” Kelso said. “We are the only normal ones, actually. We are the ones that see that the ship is sinking.”  He goes on to defend one specific group as, ”a legitimate force in American society, a sort of NAACP for white people.”

 This is good news, indeed. To think that I could have thought they were vicious, hate-mongering lazy-assed, sexist racists–who sat in their bunkers discussing Mein Kampf and Internet gun buys–while intent on destroying the fibre of “freedom and justice for all.” 

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LONDON - British scientists are developing a robot that will generate its own power by eating flies.

The idea is to produce electricity by catching flies and digesting them in special fuel cells that will break down sugar in the insects’ skeletons and release electrons that will drive an electric current.

“Called EcoBot II, the robot is part of a drive to make “release and forget” robots that can be sent into dangerous or inhospitable areas to carry our remote industrial or military monitoring of, say, temperature or toxic gas concentrations,” New Scientist magazine said on Wednesday.

So… dangerous and inhospitable… like, say…. Los Angeles?

Hence the downside of the fully autonomous robot: it will have to use sewage or excrement to attract the flies and is bound to smell appalling.

Gee.. maybe someday we’ll have cars that work on the same principles. And rather than pulling over for petrol, we can just install toilet seats instead of find cordovian leather. Just think, no longer will the kids beg for you to stop at the next rest stop. So no stopping for petrol or toilets….  You could drive coast to coast and back again without ever stopping! Ain’t technology grand?

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There was a time, not in my extreme youth–although I’m sure I was a “know it all” as an old teenager. But I came to faith in God later than that–having rejected my local Holy-Roller Church’s frequent efforts to save my soul in my youth, while being dangled over Hell like a Weenie.I was never an Athiest, mind  you. Not that I feared God, either, therefore was hanging on for fire insurance. I just didn’t think much about it. Too much wrong in the world that I knew for there to be a Supreme Being who “…so loved the world…”Then one day, God–who didn’t give His or Her name–walked into my life. Within a couple of years, I knew all about God. Had it down. Pat. Ask me anything.

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