OMG, Adele is adorable!

February 13, 2012 — Sabina Becker

Pardon my gush, but it’s true. She really IS a doll. She’s funny, she’s unpretentious, she’s blessedly drama-free in spite of everything she’s been through (how many pop stars can you say THAT about?), and she’s smart and nice, too. Oh, and she’s got the cutest accent — says fink and froat for think and throat. She’s feeling and singing better after her health woes of the past year. She’s happily over the dude that wrecked her (and inspired all those songs that make everybody bawl). And she doesn’t want to be “a skinny mini with my tits out”, which just totally flies in the face of everything the industry pushes where women are concerned. She may not have a supermodel figure like the late, lamented Whitney Houston, but she is damn gorgeous. When she sings, she doesn’t go in for high-energy theatrics, she just stands and delivers. And HOW. She puts it all into her voice, her eyes, and the palms of her expressive hands. And then she throws it out there for the world. If that’s not role model material, I don’t know what is.

All in all, Adele is the antidote to my Sartrean nausea where showbiz is concerned. She is one good egg. She deserves her success. She has my wholehearted approval.

And if you’re sick of the constant airplay her songs get (if not the songs themselves, which are just way too genuine to puke at), then my advice is to get away from Top 40 radio, like I do, and instead, listen to them when you NEED them. Save them for those times when nothing else will do. A good cry deserves a great soundtrack, and no one delivers it like she does.

Posted in Artsy-Fartsy Culture Stuff, Merry Old England, Uppity Wimmin. No Comments »

The History of Iran (that the US and Britain prefer you not to know)

January 24, 2012 — Sabina Becker

A useful primer to keep in mind, seeing how the war drums are beating louder these days.

Bonus: Something even MORE disturbing about Iran:

PS: Join, join, join.

Posted in Angry Pacifist Speaks Her Mind, Merry Old England, Spooks, The United States of Amnesia. Comments Off »

Royally disgusting

January 24, 2012 — Sabina Becker

Ahem. A little mood music, maestro:

Ah, that was lovely. And a timely reminder of the class of person we’re dealing with here: an unelected monarch who dares to try to shut up a democratically elected leader confronting him over Spanish support of a coup against democracy in Venezuela. Yes, that was Chavecito, and yes, that was the so-called king of Spain telling him to shut up. Quite the nerve on ol’ Juan Carlos, seeing as he was installed by Franco the fascist and all. His legitimacy as a ruler has always been in question. Little wonder he was so snippy. I don’t suppose his rotten royal temper will be improved at all by these revelations, either:

The King of Spain is a serial womaniser who once made a pass at Princess Diana while she was on holiday with Prince Charles, a book has claimed.

It also alleges that Juan Carlos is a ‘professional seducer’ who has had numerous affairs and has not shared a bed with his wife for the past 35 years.

[...]

The Solitude of the Queen by Pilar Eyre, which is likely to prove controversial in the Catholic country, claims the king made a ‘tactile’ advance to Diana while she and Charles were on holiday in Majorca in the 1980s.

It follows much-derided allegations made in 2004 by Lady Colin Campbell that the princess had a fling with Juan Carlos while on a cruise in August 1986 and then again the following April.

During a 1987 visit, in which Charles and Diana went to Madrid, the king was pictured smiling as he kissed the princess on the hand – a gesture which left Diana looking embarrassed.

Miss Eyre’s book also alleges that Queen Sofia has not slept in the marital bed since 1976 and only remains in the marriage out of ‘a sense of duty’.

She even claims the queen stumbled upon her husband with one of his alleged lovers, the Spanish film star Sara Montiel, at a friend’s country house in Toledo in 1976.

Sofia, now 73, was forced to attend a football match the day afterwards ‘as protocol demanded’, before storming out of the Zarzuela Palace, their official residence, with her children.

Advised to stay with her husband, she was told a break-up would mean she would ‘end up being paid to liven up the parties of the newly rich’.

Miss Eyre adds: ‘The role of the queen is sad, she is the loneliest woman in Spain.’

Nasty allegations, no doubt. But I can’t say I’m surprised, and they sure don’t sound out of character for this arrogant old fossil. I guess he’s used to getting whatever he wants, and can’t bear to be contradicted on anything. Little wonder, then, that he told Chavecito to shut up when the latter dared to demand an honest answer out of him. Real sovereignty and nobility are not his stock in trade, so he obviously has trouble seeing them exercised by an elected leader!

Posted in Fascism Without Swastikas, Filthy Stinking Rich, Huguito Chavecito, Isn't It Ironic?, Merry Old England, Under the Name of Spain. Comments Off »

Photoshop du jour: A dream jam session

January 21, 2012 — Sabina Becker

You say you want a revolution? You got it:

“Imagínate que no hay cielo…”

Can’t you just hear it?

Posted in Cuba, Libre (de los Yanquis), Don't Cry For Argentina, Fun With Photoshop, Merry Old England. 1 Comment »

Cops Behaving Badly: Fuck the Police (Before They Fuck You)

January 3, 2012 — Sabina Becker

(Logo from the infamous Dave Rabbit sweatshirt, a limited-edition Vietnam War pirate radio joke product.)

Pardon my Anglo-Saxon and the explicit artwork, but given what shit is hitting the fan in Britain, it was only fittin’…

Undercover police officers routinely adopted a tactic of “promiscuity” with the blessing of senior commanders, according to a former agent who worked in a secretive unit of the Metropolitan police for four years.

The former undercover policeman claims that sexual relationships with activists were sanctioned for both men and women officers infiltrating anarchist, leftwing and environmental groups.

Sex was a tool to help officers blend in, the officer claimed, and was widely used as a technique to glean intelligence. His comments contradict claims last week from the Association of Chief Police Officers that operatives were absolutely forbidden to sleep with activists.

The one stipulation, according to the officer from the Special Demonstration Squad (SDS), a secret unit formed to prevent violent disorder on the streets of London, was that falling in love was considered highly unprofessional because it might compromise an investigation. He said undercover officers, particularly those infiltrating environmental and leftwing groups, viewed having sex with a large number of partners “as part of the job”.

“Everybody knew it was a very promiscuous lifestyle,” said the former officer, who first revealed his life as an undercover agent to the Observer last year. “You cannot not be promiscuous in those groups. Otherwise you’ll stand out straightaway.”

The claims follow the unmasking of undercover PC Mark Kennedy, who had sexual relationships with several women during the seven years he spent infiltrating a ring of environmental activists. Another two covert officers have been named in the past fortnight who also had sex with the protesters they were sent to spy on, fuelling allegations that senior officers had authorised sleeping around as a legitimate means of gathering intelligence.

However Jon Murphy, Acpo’s spokesman on serious and organised crime, said last week that undercover officers were not permitted “under any circumstances” to sleep with protesters.

Heh. Sounds like the police have quite the bit of cognitive dissonance going. One officer says he was required to screw around with activists, literally, as part of his undercover spy work, while the brass indignantly insists otherwise.

This all begs the question: Why would police feel the need to have sex with activists they were spying on, anyway?

The answer, as you might have guessed, is fucking ludicrous:

The former SDS officer claims a lack of guidelines meant sex was an ideal way to maintain cover. He admitted sleeping with at least two of his female targets as a way of obtaining intelligence.

“When you are on an undercover unit you were not given a set of instructions saying you could or couldn’t do the following. They didn’t say to you that you couldn’t go out and drink because technically you’re a police officer, that you shouldn’t go out and get involved in violent confrontations, you shouldn’t take recreational drugs.

“As regards being with women in very, very, very promiscuous groups such as the eco-wing, environmental movement, leftwing, or the Animal Liberation Front – it’s an extremely promiscuous lifestyle and you cannot not be promiscuous in there.

“Among fellow undercover officers, there is not really any kudos in the fact that you are shagging other people while deployed. Basically it’s just regarded as part of the job. It’d be highly unlikely that you were not [having sex].

“When you are using the tool of sex to maintain your cover or maybe to glean more intelligence – because they certainly talk a lot more, pillow talk – you would be ready to move on if you felt an attachment growing.

“The best way of stopping any liaison getting too heavy was to shag somebody else. It’s amazing how women don’t like you going to bed with someone else,” said the officer, whose undercover deployment infiltrating anti-racist groups lasted from 1993 to 1997. Two years later the SDS became the National Public Order Intelligence Unit, the secretive organisation that employed Kennedy and whose activities are the subject of three investigations.

The officer added that undercover police were strictly encouraged not to form a bond with women they were sleeping with and said that he knew Jim Boyling, the undercover officer who married an activist he was supposed to be spying upon.

See? Ludicrous.

I don’t know of any environmentalist group where promiscuity is actually de rigueur, as the cop-spook claims it was in these so-called “terrorist” cells. In fact, since environmentalists are apt to be politically progressive all around, compulsory promiscuous sex would be considered a flagrant ethical violation, and likely to undermine the solidarity of the group as well, rather than bolster it (much less help members to sniff out infiltrators in their midst). It would be mutually destructive and counterproductive, particularly when that old boogerbear known as Human Nature rears its jealous, possessive head. There has never yet been a commune or cult where a compulsory-promiscuous lifestyle hasn’t ultimately devolved into either a sexualized dictatorship, or else led to the dissolution of the group.

So, as you may have guessed, I’m calling shenanigans on the insistence that promiscuity was just a way for the undercover cops to blend in. Instead, I’m going to just come right out and label it for what it was: Police brutality, sexual assault, and agent provocateurism.

It is police brutality because it involves officers taking advantage of their official status to commit violence upon citizens who have done nothing wrong.

It is sexual assault because it involves officers taking advantage of their official status to secure sexual favors under false pretenses.

And it is agent provocateurism because it is all being done to covertly undermine the group, to riddle it with schisms and ultimately, to get it to dissolve.

And there is really nothing left to say on the subject except FUCK THAT SHIT.

Posted in Cops Behaving Badly, Environmentally Ill, Fascism Without Swastikas, Isn't That Illegal?, Merry Old England, Morticia! You Spoke French!, Spooks. 2 Comments »

Venezuela’s gold comes home

November 26, 2011 — Sabina Becker

Don’t expect to read anything good about this in your lamestream English media. And don’t expect to see these pictures, either:

Citizens of Caracas hold up a banner thanking President Chávez for bringing home the gold in the name of their sovereignty.

A welcoming crowd lines the streets of Caracas as the armored trucks carrying the first gold shipment pass on their way to the Central Bank.

Here’s the story:

The first shipment of the gold which Venezuela had kept in European banks, was received today amid great celebration by Venezuelans.

President Hugo Chávez had announced the arrival of the gold earlier, and shortly after 4 p.m. the president of the Central Bank of Venezuela (BCV), Nelson Merentes, confirmed the arrival of the gold in Venezuela on state television.

Almost immediately, Venezuelans mobilized to accompany the caravan transporting the reserves to the BCV.

“Impressive mobilization of the people of Caracas to receive our national gold,” tweeted parliamentary deputy Freddy Bernal, who was present along with other functionaries and citizens in the streets.

Shouting “The gold is ours”, the people of Caracas lined the streets to watch the caravan of armored trucks pass.

Nelson Merentes stated that there were a little over $300 million (US) worth of gold in the first shipment, which arrived on Friday, and was transferred to the BCV’s vaults.

[...]

Merentes emphasized that “we have the physical, technical and human capacity to look after the gold resources which are being transferred to the vaults of the Central Bank.”

Translation mine.

Why is this significant? Well, just look at the headlines. Europe is in crisis, with even Italy — Europe’s third-biggest economy — unable to pay off its debts. Bankers are demanding sacrifice and austerity in the form of public service cuts, even as their own wallets grow fatter.

And since these Venezuelan reserves came out of European banks, it’s not only a statement of sovereignty on Chávez’s part, it’s also a served notice that Venezuela wants no part of the European crisis, and will not allow its gold to be part of the bankers’ insane gambling spree. In other words: Venezuela is opting out of the global crisis of capitalism.

And a glance at Venezuela’s own history and economic crises of the past makes it clear why they are doing so, and why ordinary Venezuelans support their president and their central bank in this momentous decision:

In a secretive operation, on Friday, August 5, 1988, eight tons of gold that had been under guard “suddenly left” the country, according to denunciations at the time by communist deputies, in the face of silence from the predominant politicians of the era.

Later, on February 21, 1989, the recently elected (for the second time) president, Carlos Andrés Pérez, revealed something similar on the front page of the newspaper, El Nacional: “BCV ships eight tons of gold to London.”

The transfers of gold out of the country began during the early days of “representative democracy”, under Rómulo Betancourt. Approximately a third of the country’s total gold reserves were placed in the Federal Reserve Bank of the United States, as a guarantee for a $2 billion loan, contracted by Betancourt, which was already cancelled before 1989.

The dates are significant. In February and March of 1989, the streets of Caracas were awash in blood as the Caracazo raged, and Carlos Andrés Pérez sent the police and army out to fire on their own fellow Venezuelans. For what? For rioting against a crisis manufactured, in large part, by capital flight, corruption, debts to foreign banks, and austerity measures virtually identical to those being protested in Europe right now.

Riddle me this: If Venezuela had all that gold, what did it need a fucking $2 billion loan for?

Rhetorical question, kiddies. Venezuela didn’t need that loan at all. (Venezuela is not a poor country, it is a rich country that was MADE poor.) The US needed it…to pay itself for all the half-assed “development projects” it undertook in Venezuela. Most of them having to do with getting quick, easy and cheap access to Venezuelan oil…and oh yeah, Venezuelan GOLD. And putting in just enough infrastructure to make it look like something was trickling down, and to make sure that the two predominant “democratic” parties, the “liberal” Acción Democrática (AD) and the conservative COPEI, had enough spending money to throw around buying votes in the poor barrios with fresh paint for the houses, bags of groceries, and so on.

Venezuela’s oil and gold could easily make ALL foreign loans unnecessary, but to assure that they didn’t, one corrupt “democratic” government after another sent Venezuelan gold out of country and tied it up in various foreign reserve banks. “To keep it safe”, or so it was said.

In reality, that gold could not have been LESS safe. It was being used as collateral by the foreign bankers to back up their gambles in stocks, bonds, and oh yeah, FOREIGN DEBTS. And as financial deregulation came into vogue around the world, that kind of collateral came in VERY handy.

And that’s why Venezuela wants its gold at home, and why it’s very smart of Chavecito to bring it back, RIGHT NOW. Venezuela is going to weather the so-called global recession better than Canada and the US, and certainly better than Europe, as a result of this simple, sovereign move.

Any questions?

Posted in Barreling Right Along, Canadian Counterpunch, EuroPeons, Good to Know, Huguito Chavecito, Isn't It Ironic?, Merry Old England, Socialism is Good for Capitalism!, The United States of Amnesia. Comments Off »

Poor Pippa.

November 13, 2011 — Sabina Becker

You really have to feel for this girl sometimes. Apparently her much-scrutinized on-again-off-again romance is off, for good:

She is one of the most desirable women in the world, the beautiful younger sister of the future Queen of England with an appealingly mischievous glint in her eye.

So when it was reported last week that Pippa Middleton had split from her boyfriend, Alex Loudon, it was naturally assumed it was Pippa who called time on their relationship. After all, she has no shortage of suitors.

Yet, in news that will surely astonish starry-eyed bachelors everywhere, The Mail on Sunday has learned it was in fact Alex who, after one-and-a-half years together, decided to end things.

According to a friend of both Alex and Pippa, the 31-year-old former England cricketer could no longer cope with the ‘circus’ that accompanies his girlfriend everywhere she goes.

The friend said: ‘The plain truth is Alex adored Pippa but he couldn’t stand the circus that now surrounds her. Nothing is straightforward anymore.’

Inordinately private, with impeccable manners, the Old Etonian simply hated the attention . . . attention that Pippa appears to rather enjoy.

Another family friend said: ‘Pippa sees the connection with the Royal Family as a golden opportunity but she knows she cannot afford to look vulgar.

‘She now gets invited to every show in town, every door is open to her but Alex hates parties. He loves his cricket and has a very close-knit circle of Old Etonian friends. Alex comes from a very well-to-do and discreet family who do not relish the spotlight.

‘He hated the fact they were followed by paparazzi and he avoided going out because of it. Alex is very strait-laced. He loves his family and his friends and has no time for celebrity.’

But that is what Pippa has now become. And her whirl of society balls and Tatler magazine covers is a world away from the social life of the Loudons, a family which comes from a line of baronets, admirals and statesmen.

Alex’s father, James, is a successful financier and former High Sheriff of Kent. Chairman of Caledonia Investments in London, he is also deputy chairman of the governors of the University of Greenwich and a trustee of the Canterbury Cathedral Trust.

Last night a member of Pippa’s circle said her friends were not surprised the courtship had come to an end.

The friend said: ‘Alex’s parents were welcoming but they were always somewhat lukewarm about the relationship. They didn’t see Pippa as ‘wife material’. James and his wife Jane both come from very good families.

‘Pippa is very sweet but she is socially ambitious – all her friends are so “trophy posh” it’s ridiculous. They didn’t honestly see Alex and Pippa’s relationship as a long-term thing.

‘James and Jane are very old-fashioned and prefer to keep things low-key.

‘They do not go out of their way to court attention for themselves and they tend to shy away from the media – even when James was High Sheriff he took on the roles and responsibilities but didn’t attempt to promote himself. They’re a very “proper” family.’

Alex’s grandfather Francis, a barrister, married Lady Prudence Jellicoe, daughter of Admiral Sir John Henry Rushworth Jellicoe, the first Earl of Jellicoe.

Lady Prudence was an indefatigable early champion of single mothers, serving as the chairman of the National Council For The Unmarried Mother And Her Child from 1958 to 1968.

Lord Jellicoe was the admiral who commanded the Royal Navy’s Grand Fleet at the Battle of Jutland in the First World War and became the second Governor-General of New Zealand.

He is buried at St Paul’s Cathedral. He married Florence Cayzer, sister of the 1st Baron Rotherwick, the British shipping magnate and Conservative politician.

The family estate, Olantigh Towers, was bought by Francis in 1935. Just outside the Kent village of Wye, the mile-long drive meanders through landscaped gardens while prized Sussex cattle roam 20 acres of surrounding farmland.

The River Stour runs through the grounds, which include stable blocks and an ornamental footbridge.

Ah yes. Worthies indeed.

So, in not so many words: She’s tacky, flashy, nouveau-riche, no title, no breeding…in short, gauche.

Never mind that her family has more than enough ready cash to send their scions to the “best” schools, and never blench at what it must cost.

Never mind that her sister married the future king, or that Pippa, though not royal herself, is now known as “Her Royal Hotness”.

Never mind that her very bottom has its own fan club, fergawdsakes! None of that really matters.

What matters is coming from the Right Sort of People. And on that, there can be no compromise: Pippa’s just not posh enough for the real toffs of Old England.

It doesn’t help her, either, to have everything she says, does, eats, wears and poops endlessly dissected by the tabloids. Even while dating Alex exclusively, Pippa was still deemed the most eligible bachelorette in the world. Worse, she and Kate were dubbed the Wisteria Sisters, after a beautiful, ornamental flowering vine that happens to be horribly invasive…and apt to climb all over everything like the Creeping Curse of Kudzu.

And let’s not forget all those old pictures of Pippa, doubtless drunk as a lord, as she partied the night away in her skivvies. Things like that are certain to embarrass a class-bound old-money family, who rely on discretion to help them avoid the peasant revolt which we know is going to get them, sooner or later.

And with the way the world is going (especially in England, which is currently rolling from one financial crisis to another), that could be VERY soon. In which case even the best-off of the middle class — uh, that would be the Middletons — will end up back with the peasants in more ways than one.

Poor Pippa just wouldn’t get a look-in, with all that going against her. So now she’s doomed to stay on the party circuit until further notice. Until her spray tan starts to look pasty, her glossy curls lose their lustre, her fascinator starts to wilt, and her eyeliner runs off to join the navy.

But hey…at least she almost got to be the Rear of the Year. They can’t take that away from her.

Posted in Filthy Stinking Rich, Isn't It Ironic?, Merry Old England, Morticia! You Spoke French!, Newspeak is Nospeak, The "Well, DUH!" Files. 3 Comments »

An open letter to Brendan O’Neill

November 8, 2011 — Sabina Becker

Dear Brendan O’Neill:

You, sir, are a fucking idiot.

How’d you like it if I found out where you lived? What would you say if I ferreted out everything about you, from what you eat, to what drugs you do, to how and whom you like to shag, and published all the above right here, so that anyone else who took as much of a dislike to your nonsense as I do, could go to your home and deliver you a harsh token of their esteem, up close and in person?

What’s that? You wouldn’t like it at all? You wouldn’t like to be threatened with splintery-broomstick-sodomy-to-the-death by a crowd of angry women who’ve had it to the gills with your smug dismissal of misogynist threats against our persons, just for having the gall to utter an opinion, ANY opinion, online?

Well, good news, Brendan. I wouldn’t do that to you. But don’t think I lack the skills to do exactly that and more. Or that I’m not sorely tempted. It’s just that my respect for ethics and the law is many times stronger than my passing urge to troll you, old son.

But I must confess that once in a while, I would like to see a privileged white male feel what it’s like to be me. Let him receive all kinds of privacy invasion, threats of death and sexual assault so hideous that even a seasoned pathologist would shudder. And let him feel absolutely helpless to do anything about it, because not only do the powers-that-be not take threats against women seriously, they give all kinds of unhelpful and victim-blaming “advice”, from “don’t dress like a slut” to “just laugh it off, you humorless bitch”. Let a man feel what it’s like to have all the burden for whatever happens to him fall squarely on his well-padded shoulders. And let him have all the burden of trying to defend himself against cyber-attacks coming from close to home and far away. Let him not know whether some troll is only bluffing, or serious. And let him not know where to turn when a credible threat of violence is levelled against him.

That, Brendan, is the position I have been in, and continue to be in as a female blogger. A LEFTIST female, to make matters worse. One outspoken on all kinds of ugly -isms and -phobias that dominate our landscape: racism, sexism, homophobia, you name it.

I’ve had a white supremacist express a wish that I would be raped by a “pipe-hung” black man (commensurate, no doubt, with his own favorite brand of porn). I’ve had a misogynous anti-choice zionist “libertarian” express the wish that the car that hit me had killed me instead of merely shattering my pelvis (a horrendous injury, incidentally, that I wouldn’t wish on anyone, even HIM.) I’ve been threatened in broken English and fluent Hungarian by someone purporting to be the mother of a fascist would-be assassin killed by the federal police in Bolivia, simply for accurately translating a local news account of the assassin’s demise and posting it here.

And oh yeah, I get gun nuts, too. From Canada and the US. No doubt some of them are salivating at the prospect of taking the same kind of rifle to my doorstep that Marc Lépine took into the Polytechnique back when I was a university student, and dispatching me with impunity, as he did to those uppity “feminists”. I’ve had the privilege of hearing all about their collective sexual pathology, straight from the horse’s ass. Let me tell you, it ain’t pretty.

It’s also the reason why I don’t post an e-mail address here; I don’t want to give these people the privilege of being able to reach me invisibly and anonymously. Commenters here run the risk that I will publish not only their vile shit, but also their IP numbers, enabling tracking to their home addresses, if they get ugly enough. You’d be amazed at how much more civil they get when they realize that. Most of them, anyway; they’re just dumb chickenshits when all’s said and nothing’s done. And they are weak and wimpy enough to expect the Internet and so-called free-speech provisions to protect them.

Or, failing that, my own fear and trembling.

I will confess to being sickened to know that such people are out there, expending energy on murderous fantasies about someone they’ve never even met. But here’s the thing, Brendan: If I were really the fragile neo-Victorian flower you’re trying to paint me and my fellow women bloggers as being, I wouldn’t still be online, writing this. I’d be hunkered down amid my hoopskirts in the fucking Diefenbunker, with the RCMP defending the honor of poor little corset-clad me.

Anonymous assholes will try to bludgeon ANY woman into submission with real, physical threats. It’s a clear, cowardly silencing tactic. It hasn’t worked on me, and it never will; I’d rather die defending my rights than shut up just to avoid offending some violent fucking idiot who will probably never respect another living soul anyway. But it pisses me off because it’s allowed, it isn’t being taken seriously, and no one is doing anything to stop it.

And it pisses me off, Brendan, that you, under the rubric of “raising the horizons of humanity by waging a culture war of words against misanthropy, priggishness, prejudice, luddism, illiberalism and irrationalism in all their ancient and modern forms”, are doing nothing but enabling these same oppressors. It pisses me off that a leading British newspaper is giving your tripe even an inch of column space, and probably paying you quite handsomely.

In short, Brendan, it pisses me off that you are part of the problem, and active only in impeding the solution. I would like nothing better than to see life school you and your corporate paymasters for it, harshly and in no uncertain terms. But I’m not going to post any of your sensitive personal information here. That would be sinking to the same level as the people who want me silenced, permanently.

Brendan, may they never come knocking at your door, as I pray they never come knocking at mine. But if they do, I hope you have the grace to admit that we “fragile, neo-Victorian” feminists may have just been onto something, after all. And that you have the courage — the balls, if you will — to do something constructive about it.

In the meantime, you may count yourself fortunate that you can afford to be such a gormless fucking prick. You have no idea how good you have it.

PS: To anyone thinking to lecture or patronize me via the comments, as one unfortunate fool already has: Don’t even contemplate it. You do NOT get to tell me what I should tolerate, any more than you get to define what “women’s liberation” is. Especially if you’re a man. And if the irony of THAT doesn’t hit you over the head, my ban-hammer WILL. Fair warning.

Posted in Canadian Counterpunch, Crapaganda Whores, Fascism Without Swastikas, Guns, Guns, Guns, Isn't It Ironic?, Isn't That Illegal?, Men Who Just Don't Get It, Merry Old England, Not So Compassionate Conservatism, Sick Frickin' Bastards, The United States of Amnesia, Uppity Wimmin, Writer Lady Sings the Blues. 9 Comments »

Stupid Sex(less) Tricks: No cuddling, please, we’re British

November 3, 2011 — Sabina Becker

Okay. Leaving out the obvious gender stereotyping that the media are crammed full of (guys don’t like to cuddle? Not in MY experience), it’s shit like this, Britain…

A staggering 32 per cent of UK females admit they can’t stand cuddling when in bed, but force themselves into a clinch to avoid upsetting their partner.

Despite this, 55 per cent of women admit they do manage to cuddle their man in bed every night – but usually allow them the briefest of hugs before rolling over to go to sleep.

An overwhelming 77 per cent of women admit to performing the ‘hug and roll’ manoeuvre – made famous by Ross in the hit American sitcom ‘Friends’ – where they hug their partner until he falls asleep, before quickly disentangling themselves, rolling over to claim their own bed space and falling asleep.

Almost half of all UK women admit they don’t like cuddling in bed because when they finally retire they just want to go to sleep.

One in five say they don’t like over-long personal contact with their partner, claiming that cuddling in bed makes them hot and uncomfortable.

A third of women give night-time cuddles just twice a week or less. And more than one in 20 admit they ‘hardly ever’ cuddle their partner.

And the statistic to make these cuddle-starved men weep? Close to one in 10 women admit they’d rather be checking Facebook in bed than cuddling their partner.

Owwwwwww! That is HARSH. Guess Merry Old England, for all the talk of drunken debauchery among the lads and ladettes, isn’t so merry after all.

If I had a hot guy to share a sack with, I might brag about it on Facebook…in the morning. Or maybe I’d be too busy still cuddling, which is even better than a brag. Let the whole world guess what’s keeping me from breathlessly updating my status, eh?

And another thing: what is up with the cuddles-vs.-sex dichotomy? That’s another piece of ginned-up media nonsense right there. Nobody says you can’t have both. In fact, I’m rather a fan of both. I can do them simultaneously, even. You’d be surprised how hot that gets…

But then again, I’m Canadian. And it gets cold on our long winter nights. We’re creative that way, I guess.

Posted in Canadian Counterpunch, Merry Old England, Stupid Sex Tricks, The WTF? Files. 2 Comments »

Festive Left Friday Blogging: Happy 1-month birthday, OWS!

October 14, 2011 — Sabina Becker

Occupy Wall Street is now one month old, and still going strong. It’s also spreading across the continent and around the world. Virtually all major cities in North America (and quite a few minor ones as well) now have “Occupy” movements. And, if the news is to be believed, the powers-that-be are getting mighty nervous of all this growing evidence of people power:

More than 7,000 Canadians signed an online petition Friday opposing the feared eviction of Occupy Wall Street protesters from New York’s Zuccotti Park, a property owned by a Canadian holding company.

Brookfield Office Properties, which owns the park where protesters have been camped out for four weeks, said it delayed the planned cleanup of the park at the request of local political officials.

The move came after thousands of people sent online messages to Brookfield and New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg, and also showed up prepared to be arrested in defense of the right to protest in the park.

Among the online protesters were more than 7,000 Canadians who signed a petition at Leadnow.ca, a website run by a Canadian advocacy organization best know for sponsoring “vote mobs” in the last federal election.

[...]

“Frankly I think they backed down in the face of overwhelming public pressure,” said James Biggar, executive director of Leadnow.ca, said of Brookfield’s about-face.

“I don’t think either Brookfield or Mayor Bloomberg wanted to have a huge, messy, ridiculously violent confrontation, which would have been the only way to get them out of there,” Biggar said.

Brookfield Properties said the delay was temporary.

“At the request of a number of local political leaders, Brookfield Properties has deferred the cleaning of Zuccotti Park for a short period of time while an attempt is made to reach a resolution regarding the manner in which Zuccotti Park is being used by the protesters,” the company said in a statement.

“Any such resolution will be respectful of the laws of the City of New York and will ensure that the park is used in a way that maintains the health, safety and viability of the surrounding residential and business community.”

Viability???

Yes, heaven forfend that the viability of capitalism should be questioned, never mind compromised. That’s what this is really all about: first the questioning, then the compromising. And then what? Well, it remains to be seen. But the indignation is snowballing, and it shows no signs of a meltdown. So far, all indications are that the protests will only grow and gain in strength, and that petitions on their behalf ARE working.

BTW, the occupation was at the top of tonight’s CBC newscast. Quite the change from two or three weeks ago, when almost no one was covering it. What was it that Gandhi said? “First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win”, I believe it was. For the first week they ignored, for the second week they laughed, and now, in the end of the third and fourth weeks, they’re fighting, complete with police brutality. Guess what comes next.

So, happy one month, OWS. May you enjoy many more. And may you not stop fighting this fight until the people win.

PS: There’s more, kiddies!

Fuck the Galt-going Randroids and their mythical Atlas. That’s my friend Dan there on the right, holding up the world from one of the many demos in California yesterday.

And just to add a little more awesome sauce, how about this?

The Occupy Wall Street demonstrations and other expressions of frustration with the global economic and financial system highlight the need for policy makers to show they are serious about forcing change, Bank of Canada governor Mark Carney says.

In a television interview, Mr. Carney acknowledged that the movement is an understandable product of the “increase in inequality” – particularly in the United States – that started with globalization and was thrust into sharp relief by the worst downturn since the Great Depression, which hit the less well-educated and blue-collar segments of the population hardest.

“You’ve had a big increase in the ratio of CEO earnings to workers on the shop floor,” Mr. Carney said, according to a transcript of the interview with Peter Mansbridge of CBC News, parts of which aired on Friday evening. “And then on top of that, a financial crisis.”

But Mr. Carney – a former Goldman Sachs Co. investment banker – suggested that while he understands the frustration, some of it is rooted in an overly pessimistic view of policy makers’ resolve to make it harder for financial firms to take the sort of risks that led to the meltdown of 2008 and the brutal recession that followed.

“There’s a frustration with policy and a frustration that, ‘are things going back to business as usual,’” Mr. Carney said in the interview. “If I may say, that is not going to happen, but I can understand the frustrations.”

Demonstrations like the Occupy Wall Street protests, which will hit Canadian cities this weekend, are a “democratic expression of views” and “entirely constructive,” Mr. Carney said.

And check out who showed up in London:

Yup, Julian Assange was there. Considering how quickly the sexual assault charges against Dominique Strauss-Kahn were dropped, shouldn’t HE have had his trial a long time ago? That is, if it really WERE a question of rape? Oh yeah, that’s right…Julian Assange isn’t actually being tried for that, but for revealing the secrets the powers-that-be don’t want revealed. Naughty, naughty.

Posted in Canadian Counterpunch, Economics for Dummies, EuroPeons, Festive Left Friday Blogging, Filthy Stinking Rich, Merry Old England, The United States of Amnesia. 2 Comments »
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