jpgray's Amnesty Thread

[jpgray]

Post whatever you want here and I won't make fun of you.

In fact I won't even reply, probably, because I have to go to work. Unless you post something really great, then I'll probably reply. But it's Friday, so it may be late and I'll be drunk by the time I get to your ostensible genius. I do like to say "smock," because it has such a perfect juxtaposition of velvety consonants. Except when I'm drunk, and then I'm more likely to slur so I avoid "s" words and just say "rural," because it's impossible to make "rural" sound any more drunkified than it already is. I like green tic tacs as well.

[kick-ass-bob]

1. wasn't Amnesty Int'l declared a terrorist organization?

you're such a bastard.
:grr:

[jpgray]

2. A bastard with minty fresh breath and shirts unstained by paint (nt)

[progmom]

3. nobody took you up on your offer?

poor jpgray. :hug:

[terrya]

4. I saw this film "Cote d Azur" earlier tonight

It's a French film that is basically a soap opera...it's about a family where the mom cheats on her husband, the husband turns out to be gay, and the son who everyone thinks is gay actually isn't...and there's this weird thing at the end where everyone breaks out into song before the closing credits.

And then I went out and got plastered at Big Chicks! What fun! :-)

[DS1]

6. hahahaqh

I'm glad you had a good time, the 'Big Chicks' part at the end made me laugh, not in a bad way, but in a 'damn, glad you had a fine old time way" :-)

[terrya]

7. Well, after seeing a mediocre foreign film...

The "getting plastered at Big Chicks" was the logical next step. :-)

[tigereye]

8. but Terry,

there are no mediocre foreign films! ;)

:hi:

[terrya]

9. That's what my thinking was, Tigereye...but...

this film was. :-(

:hi:

[DS1]

5. I think your taste in poetry is immature, and sucks balls

:hi:

[swag]

10. from "The Case Against Babies" by Joy Williams

http://www.granta.com/extracts/778

concluding excerpt . . .

The argument that western countries with their wealth and relatively low birth rate do not fuel the population crisis is, of course, fallacious. France, as national policy, urges its citizens to procreate, giving lots of subsidies and perks to those French who make more French. The US population is growing faster than that of eighteen other industrialized nations and, in terms of energy consumption, when an American couple stops spawning at two babies, it's the same as an average East Indian couple stopping at sixty-six, or an Ethiopian couple drawing the line at one thousand.

Yet we burble along, procreating, and in the process suffocating thousands of other species with our selfishness. We're in a baby glut, yet it's as if we've just discovered babies, or invented them. Reproduction is sexy. Assisted reproduction is cool. The announcement that a movie star is going to have a baby is met with breathless wonder. A BABY! Old men on their third marriage regard their new babies with 'awe' and crow about the 'ultimate experience' of parenting. Bruce Springsteen found 'salvation' with the birth of his son. When in doubt, have a baby. When you've tried it all, champagne, cocaine, try a baby. Pop icons who trudged through a decade of adulation and high living confess upon motherhood, This Baby Saved My Life. Bill Gates, zillionaire founder of Microsoft, is going to have (this is so wonderful) a BABY. News commentators are already speculating: will fatherhood take away his edge, his drive; will it diminish his will to succeed, to succeed, to succeed? National Public Radio recently interviewed other high-powered CEO dads as to that ghastly possibility.

It's as though, all together, in the waning years of this dying century, we collectively opened the Door of our Home and instead of seeing a friend standing there in some sweet spring twilight, someone we had invited over for drinks and dinner and a lovely civilized chat, there was Death, with those creepy little black seeds of his for planting in the garden. And along with Death we got a glimpse of ecological collapse and the coming anarchy of an over-peopled planet. And we all, in denial of this unwelcome vision, decided to slam the door and retreat to our toys and make babies—those heirs, those hopes, those products of our species' selfishness, sentimentality and global death wish.