August 4th, 2011

Looking for another summer read?

John Donnelly's Gold by Brian J. NoggleLong-time Venomites know Brian J. Noggle through his witty, often obscure, comments in the Snake Pit. Many of you probably read his Musings, too. But have you read his book?

Brian was kind enough to hook me up with a copy of his self-published novel, John Donnelly’s Gold. After it arrived it took me a couple of weeks to get over my sheer jealousy that someone I know had actually finished writing a novel since my manuscripts bore the hell out of me long before completion. Once I cracked Brian’s book open, I realized that self-publishing just might be the solution to overcoming writer’s block.

What I mean is this: Brian is no Lee Child, but anyone who’s familiar with Brian and his blog won’t find that surprising. Brian is, well, a bit geeky. And a bit techy. And a bit detail oriented. Come to think of it, he’s a lot like Robert Davies, web developer, one of the four main characters in this high-tech caper. So, while there was much in his book to appeal to a hardcore computer user, I found myself overwhelmed with some of the technical mumbo-jumbo at first.

Then I started getting into the story.

Take one somewhat anal-retentive web developer (Robert Davies), an uptight and repressed would-be novelist (Michele — one L — Isbert), a semi-mysoginistic slacker (Kevin Horton) and a bored, only slightly reformed hacker (Daryl Simon), who’ve all been fired from their IT jobs just as their benefits were going to vest. The firing decision was, of course, made by the company CEO… a man so showy he’d personally bought a bar of gold to display live on the company’s website as a sign of its affluence.

Doesn’t seem fair, does it? And that’s precisely what these four thought as they set out to right the wrongs done to them. From there, well, let me just say that in addition to being a pretty darned good writer, Brian did a brilliant job of making sure readers didn’t see the story’s turns and twists coming.

Is it perfect? No, and that’s why I pointed out it’s a self-published book. Brian has written a fun tale that combines plenty of adventure with a lot (sometimes too much) exposition about the technical steps involved in hacking a website with a live feed. Think: Ocean’s Eleven but replace Brad and George and all of their pals with four geeks, and you’ve got the idea.

Is it worth reading? You bet! Especially if you’ve ever been screwed over by a boss and wondered how, and if, you could get even.

 

August 4th, 2011

Dear Network Television and Advertisers

Why we don't watch TV much these daysDear Network Television and Advertisers,

While I’m on the subject of commercials that suck, I would like to take this moment to say that I am sick of Chef Curtis Stone, the guy in the Pledge multi-purpose spray ad, the woman in the Mentos commercial who laments my dirty mouth, and all of the other Brits and Aussies whose accents you advertisers seem to think will make your product sound so much more impressive.

Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against Brits or their former convict offspring from Australia. I don’t even have anything against Curtis Stone. I’m sure he’s a very nice man, and goodness knows he’s easy on the eye. In fact, I wholeheartedly applaud the UK ban on retouched makeup print ads. I’d love to see a similar ban enacted here in America. Then things like this and this would stop.

While we’re at it, those pseudo-telethon “shows” you run during daytime TV to pretend there’s a huge demand for your wares? Or when you try making a commercial look like a news interview? I can’t help wondering just how stupid you think viewers are. If you’re being so openly tricky with your ads, I can only assume you’re just as deceptive when it comes to your actual service.

As for you, Network Executives: enough with the shows about horrible people acting horribly. No, I’m not talking about Big Brother, though surely that show’s run its course by now. This time I’m talking about Whitney and whatever that new show Zooey Deschanel is in.

Oh, sure, it worked for Seinfeld, which is no doubt why you tried to rehash the theme in that awful experiment otherwise known as The New Adventures of Old Christine. But, really, if we wanted to see a bunch of self-indulgent, narcissistic, amoral people screwing up their own lives and the lives of everyone around them, we’d tune into C-Span.

Sincerely,
VK

 

August 1st, 2011

No More of Those Summer’s Eve Ads!

Good news for people who were as grossed out as I by those horrible “talking vagina” ads: apparently Summer’s Eve realized that grossing out consumers isn’t the way to win their business, and now the ads have been canceled!

 


July 22nd, 2011

Feminine Products Putting Are Too Much “V” in TV!

Image from Summers Eve feminine wash ad Look, you know and I know that women have vaginas. Those of us who aren’t currently at Comic-Con also know that sometimes womens’ vaginas are, to put it nicely, odoriferous or gnarly. (For the record: men’s ugly bits are just as often repugnant, but for some reason there aren’t entire product lines to fixing that problem.)

But, really, must we get so graphic on TV about problems down there? First it was the horrid women’s razor ad about “trimming the hedges” (YouTube link). Maybe you’ve seen it? A pretty young blond sings about how, when she’s feeling a little blue, her favorite thing to do is “mow the lawn”. In solidarity, perky young women exclaim that some bushes are really big (wink), some gardens are really small (another wink), and whatever shape your ‘topiary’ is in, “it’s easy to trim them all”. Funny stuff… unless you happen to be sitting next to a pre-pubescent boy who asks “Mom, what are they talking about? I thought this was a razor commercial.” (Solution: spill hot coffee on yourself as a distraction. It works!)

Now Summer’s Eve is taking the same tack, and this time it’s ruffling some feathers. Why? Well, it’s not just the not-so-subtle images in their ad (see, upper left). This time, it’s because the ad is supposedly playing into racial stereotypes:

The black hand explains to African American women that you spend a lot of time on the hair on your head, why neglect the hair down there while showing the drawing of a cactus. (Okay, I’ve lost my African American readers, let’s move on.) The Hispanic hand starts off by saying “Aye, Aye, Aye” and then in a heavily accented voice mentions the “trashing the tacky leopard thong” — need I say more? (Hasta luego Hispanic readers) The Caucasian hand starts off by welcoming viewers with a hearty “Hello from Vagina Land”.

Except, sadly, when it comes to pushing products for down there, this racism is nothing new. That bush-trimming razor commercial? It’s a black woman who sings about really big bushes, while a petite Asian woman sings about her ‘small garden’. But, while clearly playing to racial stereotypes, the razor commercial was also so preposterous, so over-the-top and campy, that the racism didn’t really jump out. So consumers ignored it, while absorbing the message that sad or depressed women need only spend some time trimming, mowing and cutting their pubes to turn their lives around.

Frankly, I find the Summer’s Eve commercial repugnant on a number of levels, not the least of which its insidious racial stereotyping. So I’m glad it’s causing uproar and generating consumer anger, which will hopefully stop this slew of vaginal-related ads before I find myself having to pour an entire pot of coffee on myself to distract my kid from a commercial for double dildos.


July 22nd, 2011

How Hot Is It? (Open Mic)

It’s so hot, I saw an Amish guy buying an air conditioner. Okay, your turn. How hot is it?*

     

     
*(Thanks to Twoma, we’re having a competition. Enter early and often! Winner gets a nice, frosty ice cube via snail mail!)

     

     


July 15th, 2011

Help Me, I’m Melting!

Hot enough for you? Let’s get something straight up front: unless you live in one of the pink areas on this photo — as I do — I do not want to hear you whine about how hot it is. You don’t know heat. You might be sweating, your A/C might be running frequently, and maybe you have to water your plants more than once a day. But you aren’t hot. Your pits might be sweaty, your hair might have wilted, and your forehead may feel like an oil slick, but it’s just your mind playing tricks on you; if you aren’t in the pink zone, it’s NOT hot where you are.

It is, here. So hot that our A/C is constantly running, and I’m wondering what possessions we’ll have to sell to afford this month’s electric bill. So hot that I’ve learned how to drive with two fingers, having made the mistake of firmly grasping the steering wheel while pulling out of the grocery store’s parking lot, only to suffer blisters on both palms. (Try explaining that when you’re female!) So hot that, while pulling beets in my garden today, I was mildly surprised that they weren’t fully cooked. Sweaty pits, wilting hair, a slick forehead? Check, check, and check. Also, I’m chafing in the most painful of places. And have I mentioned the swarms of mosquitoes due to our local flooding?

Yeah, I’m a bit grumpy these days, and I’ve been sparing you the blunt of that wrath. I haven’t been this grumpy since, oh, August 13, 2010 when I’d hardly slept the previous night thanks to these asshats staging a prisoner uprising at Ft. Leavenworth, which prompted all of the prison sirens in our town to go off all freaking night long. (Note to Washington, D.C.: Now, imagine the carnage that would’ve occurred in the prison had the inmates been the Gitmo detainees you’ve talked about transferring here.)

Meanwhile, here’s some random synaptic firings for you:

  • I wish I had a job so I could quit it like this!
  • “Batgina mobile”? Only a guy would think this would attract girls.
  • Yeah, the ol’ “Republicans want to cut your Medicare” tactic really is getting old.
  • No more paper Treasury Bonds? Imagine all of the grandparents who must now give their grandkids birthday presents they can actually use before they turn 18!
  • Dear L.A.: Your “carmageddon” only lasts one weekend. Stay home and STFU already, you pantywaists!
  • Penis mutilation (with or without garbage disposal) isn’t as uncommon as you’d think hope, and if this heat keeps up I predict they’ll just get more common.
  • (Wholly unrelated): A study claims that men want more cuddling, while women want more sex. I asked VH about this. His response: actually, we’re just saying that because we know it’ll turn into sex.

Last, but certainly not least (in my mind at any rate): as of today, there are only 33 more days until school starts!!!!!

July 5th, 2011

Casey Anthony: Not Guilty, Even If You Don’t Agree

By now, you’ve heard that the jury found Casey Anthony not guilty of murdering, abusing or unintentionally killing her daughter, Caylee Anthony. They did find her guilty on four other counts, all of which involved lying to law enforcement officers.

To say this verdict is explosive is putting it mildly. While Nancy Grace’s head may have exploded, her mouth continues to run, as do the mouths of so many who’d insisted all along that Casey was to blame for her daughter’s death.

I’ve maintained all along that I don’t think Casey did it. As the evidence unfolded, and none of the physical evidence linked Casey with this crime, my beliefs only grew more certain. In the beginning, I’d simply looked to the fact that NO other physical evidence — no fingerprints, no stray hairs bearing DNA, or any other tangible evidence — was found at the site where Caylee’s body was buried. To me this raised the possibility that Caylee’s body had been moved from its original place. But remember, her body was found beneath a heavy white board which, as the defense pointed out, took a full-grown man to lift. Not likely a 110 lb. young woman could have done it. On top of that, original pictures of the area did not reveal the white board. It turned up later… and by that time Casey Anthony was already in jail. So, who put the board there?

Then, too, the cleanliness of the burial scene does not smack of a 20-something party girl. It does, however, smell of someone who knows how to keep a clean crime scene. As in, an ex-cop. As in, I’ve maintained all along that George Anthony is somehow involved in Caylee’s death.

Add to this his fixation on finding the missing roll of duct tape. The special duct tape. The kind that was produced in a limited quantity, not easily purchased in stores. George Anthony didn’t mention it while the initial hunt for Caylee’s body was on. He didn’t bring it up at all when he told the tale of Casey borrowing his gas can — which had a piece of the duct tape on it — although he certainly made a stink over that missing can. In fact, he said nothing about it until Caylee’s body had been found with that duct tape covering her mouth.

Why did he bring it up then? My guess — and, just like your opinion on this case, mine’s only a guess — is because he realized he’d made the same mistake that every criminal does who thinks s/he’s committed the perfect crime: he’d overlooked one tiny detail. And one detail is all it takes.

Regardless, the fact is that our American jurisprudence system says it’s the State’s job to prove that Casey, and ONLY Casey, could have committed the crime. They failed in that respect. There were simply too many unanswered questions about George Anthony, and possibly his wife Cindy, too. And with that, the State could not and did not meet its burden of proof. Ergo, Casey Anthony was found innocent.

But here’s the kicker: to those of you expressing outrage and anger over that verdict? You. Are. Wrong. See, that, too is how our American jurisprudence system works. Casey Anthony was innocent until proven guilty. The State did not prove her guilt. Ergo, she’s innocent even if you think otherwise. In fact, because the jury and only the jury gets to decide what is truth and what is not in this case, it is THEIR decision — not guilty — that is truth.

The rest of you who say otherwise aren’t just defying the evidence, you’re not just disparaging Casey Anthony, you’re calling the jurors liars and you’re insulting our American legal system. I can almost guarantee that if it were you on the stand who’d been found not guilty, you’d be outraged that anyone questioned the verdict.

So put your stones down, people. Here in America, we operate by the rule of law. On this case, the law ruled she is innocent. Stop stoning this woman with your words, and let her get on with her life.

July 3rd, 2011

Kids Don’t Have To Think Reading’s A Chore

To say that my son is a reluctant reader is putting it mildly. I’m not sure when the problem started; he used to adore reading books together, and being read to. Of course, he used to also get away with staying up late by begging me to read his favorite books “Just one more time, Mommy”. Then I’d see him dragging the next morning and realized he needed sleep more than he needed to hear Goodnight, Moon for the umpteenth time.

I guess his dislike of reading really emerged around the time we transitioned from homeschooling to public school in third grade. At that point we were introduced to the Accelerated Reader (AR) program which confused both of us greatly. See, the name makes it sound like kids are challenged to read books on the higher end of their skill level purely for extra credit. In practice, it’s a task they’re assigned over and above homework, with participation in fun classroom activities dependent upon their performance. And how is that performance assessed? By a test, as if kids these days aren’t being tested enough.

So my son, when presented with his quarterly AR goals, balks at them. Most books that capture his interest are a mere 2 or 3 points, while his goal was consistently closer to 20. For those doing the math, that’s one and a half books per week, assuming he scored 100% on the test for each, on top of his homework. Last year, that homework took nearly two hours a night. Needless to say, when faced with the chance to get outside and play once homework was done, or to sit and read for the 30 recommended minutes each evening, he chose playtime. Can’t say I blame him.

One thing I wish? That his teachers knew about the Reading Rainbow video series with its 153 episodes on a variety of themes designed to intrigue kids and point them to books that will capture their interest. Perhaps with some guidance like that, along with the activities and curricula ideas, we wouldn’t have floundered around looking for books that would appeal to him. As it was, we didn’t find any last year, so my son never did make his AR goal.

Oddly enough, that doesn’t seem to be a problem this summer. See, I picked up the Lemony Snicket series at a garage sale not long ago. If you’ve ever read one of those books, you’ll know that the back cover warns kids to go pick a different book — any different book — because this one’s probably going to spook the heck out of them. Reverse psychology? Of course. But it’s brilliant, I tell you. My kid’s finished the entire series in the month that school’s been out, and today he announced he’s starting back over at Book One so he can experience them all again.

Now, if only he’ll hurry up with it so I can start reading them, too!


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