I Heart Huckabees (not)

Study this picture carefully:



Who exactly is that holding hands with Kevin Spacey?

A. Julia Child
B. Janet Reno
C. Dame Edna
D. Bill O'Reilly in drag

Actually, it's none of the above. And actually, shockingly enough, that isn't Kevin Spacey. It’s Mike Huckabee, governor of Arkansas, and his, um . . . wife, Janet. (I’m sorry, but that totally looks like a man in drag. I mean, LOOK AT THE PICTURE.) On Valentine’s Day a couple of weeks ago, Mike and Janet decided to renew their 31-year-old wedding vows in a “covenant marriage” ceremony. (Sorry about the link to the Baptist site, but all the other links I could find were expired.) You can guess from the phrase itself just what kind of ceremony this was—one where it was made practically impossible for this couple to ever divorce, and also, they are now bound together permanently at the ankles with an intestine from a blessed sheep. Just kidding about that last part, but rest assured, these two people are joined.

(If anyone’s keeping track, here is yet another reason to hate Valentine’s Day.)

You know, whatever. I don’t care what these people do. I just don’t care anymore.

But, you know, it is kind of funny if you think about it . . . These are obviously hyper-religious people, so we can safely assume that their original marriage ceremony was pretty God-heavy. But that just wasn’t good enough, huh? Did God do a shoddy job of binding them together 31 years ago? Did someone, contrary to God’s direct orders, put that original bond asunder? From what I’ve read of the covenant marriage, it’s basically a legal bind, authorized by the state . . . hmm, does that mean the state’s authority trumps that of God?

Another question—how can I continue to be amazed at yet another example of hypocrisy and things not really making a lot of sense in the realm of the religious right?

Another question—would good old Mike and Janet like to literally take a knife and twist it in the back of every gay person who would like to get married the plain, old-fashioned, non-covenant way? I bet they would!

Another question—why do the chronically religious continue to allow us childless atheists to get married? I’ve wondered that for years.

Oh well. I’m sure the Huckabees will be happy for eons to come in the tight, tight, vise-like grip of covenant matrimony. After all, who wouldn’t be happy with a spouse who looks like Bill O’Reilly?

(Uh oh . . . )

Every picture tells a story

Oh, exciting day . . .

Thanks to burb and perk, I can now post pictures on my blog. For my first photo, I wanted to share with you something that I stare at every day, as it’s on my calendar at work. And without further ado, here it is:



This photo is from a calendar called “Weird U.S.A.,” which is a collection of photos of interesting and odd sites and memorabilia from all over the country. It’s a pretty cool calendar, especially as it came from the bargain bin at Barnes & Noble in mid-January. Although the photos themselves are awesome, however, the captions that go with the photos . . . are not. As an editor, I am particularly critical of captions anyway, many of which are poorly written at best or too cutesy at worst. Some of the captions in this calendar manage to encompass both of these characteristics and then some. Take, for example, the caption for the photo above:

Midgetville House: There is perhaps no more fabled place in America than the mythical village of Midgetville. We have investigated dozens of reported locations rumored to be the home of a colony of these vertically challenged individuals. In most cases, we have come up short.

There is so much wrong with this caption. First, the phrase “no more fabled place.” I consider myself fairly well traveled and well read, and I have never heard of Midgetville—how “fabled” can it possibly be? (If you, dear reader, have heard of Midgetville, please let me know.) Next, the phrase “mythical village of Midgetville.” I don’t know about you, but when I read “mythical,” I automatically think “not real.” In fact, here is the Webster’s Dictionary definition of “mythical”:

mythical 1. based on or described in a myth esp. as contrasted with history 2. existing only in the imagination: FICTITIOUS; IMAGINARY.

You get the idea. So, I’m thinking Zeus, Trojan Horse, Oedipus, etc. etc. . . . but the house in the photo is obviously real, or supposed to be real, so now we have another word—mythical—that doesn’t actually apply or make any sense. Next, “We have investigated dozens of reported locations. . . .” So, are the locations “mythical” too? Either you visited locations or you didn’t, and if you did, they are just “locations,” not “reported locations.” Then we have “rumored to be the home of a colony of these vertically challenged individuals.” There’s the “too cutesy” part. What, after calling your “mythical” place “Midgetville,” you’re afraid to use the word “midget”? It’s a little late to start getting all P.C. at this point, dear caption writer, if indeed that’s what you’re ballsy enough to call yourself. And finally, the froth on top of the whole damn cappuccino: “In most cases we have come up short.” WTF? Let’s count the ways in which this concluding sentence is just wrong, wrong, wrong:

1. Too cutesy (again).
2. Nonsensical. “In most cases.” Huh?? But not in this case? Have you found other small houses in other “mythical” places that you’re not telling us about? Or are there actually fabled Midgetvilles all over the damn country?? Idiot.
3. Completely unsatisfying. There’s so much the caption writer could have told us but didn’t. Where is this house located? (They never say!!) Are there other similar houses around it, thus creating a “village”? Who’s that guy standing there? Could he not put the cigar down for one minute? (You might not be able to tell from the photo, but the guy is holding a huge, unlit cigar in his right hand.) Did he go in the house to smoke his cigar? Is this the house of the midget Blair Witch? (That was my first thought.) Have you gotten any complaints from actual midgets (I mean, little people) for implying that they should all go live in a special “mythical village”? I mean, come on!! The possibilities are endless. What a blown opportunity. I’m so pissed.

(By the way, why does the door have siding on it?)

Tune in next month when I’ll post March’s awesome photo and sucky caption, complete with smart-ass comments! Can’t wait, can you?

Other things I didn't watch

[Chickadee's note: This is an unfinished entry from last week. Just to get the ball rolling again, you know? MUST NOT NEGLECT BLOG. MUST NOT NEGLECT BLOG. MUST STOP PLAYING ONLINE POKER. MUST NOT NEGLECT BLOG.]

As some of you may recall from a couple of weeks ago, I did not watch Bush's inauguration. Here are a couple of other things I didn't watch recently:
1. Bush's state of the union address.
2. the Superbowl (not even halftime or the ads).

Both of these events, for me, fit into the category of dull, commercialized, sterile, and orchestrated. Now that the sophomoric appeal of the Drink Along With Bush drinking game has worn off, I just can't stomach watching that man blather on in his insipid, defensive voice, parroting spoon-fed platitudes and cliches over and over. I am following the post-speech Social Security debate closely, though, as should we all.

(I did love, by the way, how politicos Willim Kristol and Charles Krauthammer later squealed in joy over Bush's speech without revealing that they had acted as consultants for the speech writers. Well, tooting your own horn is the American way, right?)