Turn Those Clapping Hands Into Angry Balled Fists

Oh yes it is time for yet another stab at a political mind. Straight from the desk of a Canadian who adores complaining.

Ann Coulter, I turn my critical eye to you.



To begin I would like to toss out a few quotes, straight from the mouth of Ann.



"I know Jesus Christ died for my sins, and that's all I need to know."

"I've decided to cut out the part of the speech where I say anything nice about democrats."

"Taxes are like abortion, and not just because both are grotesque procedures supported by Democrats."



A criminally insane lunatic with an automatic weapon is dangerous. A drunk driver going 160 on the highway is dangerous. An American columnist and best selling author with the mindset of a biggoted authoritarian dictator is more dangerous than you can possibly imagine. I am on a quest to discover when it was that politics and society became something worth acting so childish about. For example, I am a Canadian and I like it. It was my understanding that Canada is a relatively peaceful nation striving towards equality and justice. That certainly sounds nice. But when asked what she thought of this country of Canada, Ann responded by saying, "Canadians better hope the United States does not roll over one night and crush them. They are lucky we allow them to exist on the same continent." I will give you one guess as to where that lovely quote was spoken. Live on Fox News, but that is an entirely different blog all together.



I am deeply encouraging all of you to just take a few minutes out of what I'm sure is a busy day and dig up some good quotes for yourself from our friend Ann. If you don't feel like throwing up after reading them, there is something wrong. A tri-force of evil has developed in the American media. Ann Coulter, Bill O'Rielly and Glen Beck.



Ann stirred up some serious noise when commenting on the good ol' 9/11 incident that has fueled political and social unrest for years now. She decided to take verbal stabs at widows whom had lost their husbands that day calling them “self-obsessed broads; millionaires - reveling in their status as celebrities."

I cannot even fathom what bowel of her brain that statement came from, but needless to say it would seem that she was on that all too familiar road to blaming victims of tragedies for the tragedy itself. I say all too familiar as I'm sure we all remember Pat Robertson doing almost the exact same thing with his 9/11 commentary and people like Jerry Falwell who blames the AIDS epidemic on the homosexuals.

It seems to me that people like Ann are on the rise. Everyday there is a new face of the right-wing political movement, but apparently it is no longer acceptable to be simply "right-wing."
These days if one wants to be right-wing they must take stabs and shots at anyone and anything that opposes them in any way shape or form. Politics and society have become a farce. It is no longer about the people, it is about shock value and fueling the fires of anger and unrest. I for one choose to take a stand now, as I'm sure many others have and will. Do not buy into these shock politics. Ignore them like you did those kids in the playground who just would not leave you alone, afterall Ann and her comrades appear to have the same level of maturity and respect for other humans as the above mentioned playground folk do. There is a time and a place for respecting your fellow man. That time is now. The entire free world has had it with the kind of mantra of hate and discrimination that spews from right-wing mouths.

But look at me now. A left-winger, a so called liberal, a liberal who is "driven by Satan and lies constantly" as Ann so politely puts it. Some would say I am no better than her for telling you people that she is a threat to humanity. But I say that humans know somewhere in their bodies what is right and wrong (or at least have some sense of it). If this woman decides to do one of her many public speaking sessions in your town. Go. Make your voice heard and be critical. Those of us who seek justice and peace cannot allow people like this to continue on their campaign of hate.

Ann Coulter, I say to you, do the world a favour and rip out your tongue

-Wingfield.

Everybody Loves A Carnival

I've noticed something. Something that may or may not be blogworthy.

Might seem a bit silly at first, but please bare with me.



Bit of a touchy subject all up in this blog



Abortion.



But not just abortion. Teen pregnancy and hollywood as well.



It came to my attention in one of my recent stabs at pop culture, that Teen pregnancy appears to be developing into something...cool?



Example!

Juno. Everybody saw that movie. Everybody loved it, sob story about a teenage girl who gets knocked up and the events that follow.

Example!

The Countless teen dramas that at some point view a misunderstood teen mom and her struggle where everything turns out fairytale

Example!

My mortal enemy MTV has at least one if not more shows circling the lives of teenage pregos.



Now.

Dont get me wrong, Having kids seems like a good thing to do, it would be nice to have a family, I assume. But this whole pregnancy as entertainment thing is just weirding me out.



THEREFORE



I have a theory

I may be totally wrong here
and feel free to call me on it if I am
but I haven't really noticed a lot of shows concerning a pregnancy ended by abortion at this young age, when many abortions do indeed happen.
Could it be possible?
That popular culture media is somehow sweeping abortion under the proverbial rug to shelter the youth from it. Sounds like oppression to me. An unfair bias on the reality of teen pregnancies.
It could be an enormous catholic scandal. Pat Robertson could be behind the whole thing.
Fucking Terrifying.
I say up with shows about abortions!
Come on folks. Its the 20th century, Pro-Choice is the way to go.

If we are going to live in a world where every teen queen on our tv screens gets knocked up, at least dont have every one end in a goofy, sappy, everybody smiles happy ending.
I call for an injection of reality into "reality" tv. (either that or a complete end to reality tv)
Wake up you bastards, prego stories are not entertainment

Now.
If anyone is still reading.
I move to another subject
A subject that I mentioned above
Pat Robertson is worse than the black plague
For those of you not familiar with Pat, he is a right wing christian nutjob. Absolute nutjob.
First he calls hinduism "demonic", then he calls Islam "Satanic". Follow these comments up with numerous stabs at feminists, homosexuals and liberals and you've got dinner conversation at the Robertson house. When the United States government blew up the trade center towers on September 11th 2001 in order to begin a campaign of blood for oil most of the world believed it was done by middle eastern terrorists. It wasn't. Inside job baby, but that is beside the point. Robertson blamed this bad boy on the pagans, feminists (again), homosexuals (again), AND!!!
THE "ABORTIONISTS".
In 2005 Robertson spoke to the news media saying that Hurricane Katrina, that killed almost 2000 people, was "God's punishment in response to America's abortion policy".
This past November Robertson stated that Muslims should be treated as members of a fascist group, as Islam is a violent political system bent on world domination, not a religion.
WHICH BRINGS ME UP TO NOW.
The devastation in Haiti as a result of the earthquake is heart breaking. Good people from around the world are trying to help them overcome this desperate time. Is Pat Roberston a "good people"?

Hell Fucking No.

Roberson blamed this one on the Haitians themselves. Claiming that this is punishment for a "pact that the hatians made with the devil hundreds of years ago"

As you can well see.
This man is more bigoted than Hitler.
Therefore I would like to declare today January 21st to be ......
"International Fuck You Pat Roberston Day"

The good news is, he is sitting at 79 years of age right about now, so chances are he won't be living for that much longer.

and to that I say good riddance to bad rubbish.

-wingfield

Flash Flood Watches Cover The Southern Portion Of My Disposition

Discipline, discipline, discipline



Once upon a time a boy by the name of Kenneth Gaspar was born. A Hawaiian man he was. Soon to be a musician and have a beard. Somewhere between 1953 and 2002 Kenneth adopted the nickname of "boom" thus creating the organ, piano and keyboard master, Boom Gaspar. Why is this important? Becuase in 2002 Boom teamed up with a little band called Pearl Jam, and the free world became a little more free.

The whole world has gone to shit. I have far too much homework to do and it must be done before thursday. Why? Because thursday this reporter heads down to Georgia (possibly accompanied by the devil) to protest the School of the Americas as it is a training centre for human rights violaters and a breeding ground for killing machines. On top of all of this, Isabelle thinks I'm predictable.

I think I'd like to drop out of school and get myself a nice little patch of beach somewhere. I could build a nice little shelter, maybe hang up that picture of the dogs playing poker. During the day I would teach myself to surf and feast on the fresh fruits that surrounded my personal beach. Sometime in the early evening I could fashion myself a meal and pretend I'm Survivorman for an hour or so.
Once the sun went down and the moon was high in the sky I would go swimming, night swimming. Of course while I am night swimming I will be listening to the song "night swimming" by R.E.M. (I suppose I will need hydro and a stereo)
I would remain on this beach for the rest of my days. Safety, Obscurity.
Shortly before I died on this beach I would sit down and write a book. I would then ensure that someone found this book eventually. Then, Whoever possessed the book would be so excited and anxious to read my last words and life story. They would open the book only to find that I had written a book of clever limericks. Inside the back cover would be a picture of me mooning the reader.

If thats not happiness I dont want to know what is.

Maybe there would be a small villiage near my beach and I could befriend the townsfolk.
I could bring them something from my beach in exchange for a banjo, I've always wanted to know how to play the banjo.

Of course this all sounds silly
and it is
silly indeed

Simply picturing this setting is a mood booster
Maybe if Frank knew about this beach he wouldn't have burned his house down and hit the hollywood freeway. Poor Frank (See: Tom Waits' "Frank's Wild Years")

Needless to say I would prefer this beach to my current place of residence, suburban london. I'm trapped here, away from said beach, and the bus drivers are on strike. Oh well, life goes on, and then you die, seems about right. I suppose we're all in this together, in one way or another.

But just as a heads up
if anyone comes across this kind of beach in their travels
for the love of all things good, plant yourself there and never leave.

surfs up

*guitar solo*

-wingfield

Richmond Row And Bad Craziness

I figured that if there is one solid topic to really begin a new blog with
its me complaining

For starters, I live in London. London is a bizarre town, and thats on a good day. I have been here for about a year and a half now and I'm still not sure what to make of it. Between Monday and Friday, London, or at least my area of London is sprinkled with Western University students like myself bouncing around from class to class. Relatively non-confrontational, most stare at their feet or passing cars as they walk past eachother. Seems like no one is really a fan of eye contact. They blast around campus in outfits that are too expensive and their hair looks fantastic.

This brings up two problems for me. 1) I am not in engineering 2) my clothes are not expensive and my hair looks awful. This all may sound immature and trivial to you, and personally it did to me too when I first got here. I thought we were done with this nonsense when I left high school.
Fuck was I ever wrong. Now, you may be wondering about the engineering part. Let me explain.
Basically the engineers and the sports fellows collect the sheriff cheque around here. Folks like meself, all tucked away in the blanket of social sciences are relatively unimportant in the "Western" world, and probably soon to be equally unimportant in the working world.

NOW
this is not really troubling to me. I am not whining about how I am misunderstood or some stupid bullshit like that. Its just something I have been noticing during my 4 year sentence here.
seems a tad silly to me.

Of course as I mentioned above the hustle and bustle of campus crowds is a 5 day a week movement. Once friday night rears it's ugly head the gloves come off.
There are two names you need to know around here

1) Jack
2) Jim Bob Ray

Jacks and Jim Bob Ray's are two oversized liquor holes in downtown London. Not only are these places bars, but they are also brothels....Or maybe just dance bars, I can't really tell. Needless to say these places are oversized, multi story style. and every weekend the fill to the tits with kids around my age. They then proceed to do JagerBombs and drink cheap beer untill the bank breaks. Then comes the dry humping. The stereo system blasts the popular song of the day, usually comprised of a thumping bass drum and an auto-tuned voice, not much else. You know, the kind of stuff a ten year old could make on his mom's computer. This sound is the cue for those who desire a good dry fucking to hit the dance floor, and hit it they do. Dancing out the Kama Sutra untill they are either covered in sweat or semen. Then perhaps an exchange of numbers and if lucky enough, a "friend" to go home with.

Maybe I am the only one who doesn't see the appeal in this. Christ, considering my attitude and outlook on life I very well could be. Either way, sometimes it is just better to be on the outside lookin' in. Don't get me wrong, I love drinking. But when I do I prefer to do it in places where I am not a) bombarded by awful music b) paying too much for said drinks c) crowded and surrounded by too many people and d) having to pay 5-10 dollars to simply walk in the door.

Bad Craziness man,
Bad Craziness

I'm sure there are some people like me around here, just gotta know where to look I suppose. Untill then I will continue my resistance to succumbing to these bizarre and weird social norms that are so very apparent in Londontown. I think I'll start with a beer and a cigarette on my back porch and maybe some Nick Cave.

For those of you who are
keep on fighting the good fight. After all, there can't possibly be enough room on the dance floor for all of you

*guitar solo*

-wingfield.

Third Time Is A Charm. Or So I've Been Told

something very very strange happened

I bring to you my third installment of hot blog load
Welcome all of you to Nighthawk Postcards, a nocturnal blog.

I seek one thing and one thing only
a meaningful blog, and perhaps the odd joke.

I couldn't do it the first time. fitterhappiermore.blogspot.com

I couldn't do it the second time. getonthetable.blogspot.com

MAYBE
JUST MAYBE
I can finally pull it off

we will find out
so sit back
relax
grab a loved one and a nice glass of red

and join me as I spew ramblings and rants as best I can

I leave you now as I go brainstorm untill it hurts

*guitar solo*

-wingfield 3.0