Showing posts with label little pissant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label little pissant. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Politicians and the Lord's Own Hockey

Charles Wang owns the New York Islanders.

He also owns a good bit of the land surrounding the Nassau Coliseum and would like to build things on it: office space, residential units, shopping, and a nice new building for the Islanders to play some hockey.  His idea was to build a suburban destination for people, since that part of Hempstead is a hunk of nothing next to the highway.

Nassau County's then-executive, Tom Suozzi, liked the idea.  The fans loved it.  Of course Wang was behind it, as a way to generate revenue not tied to his hockey team, which (let's face it) currently sucks like an Oreck.  Kate Murray, mayor of Hempstead, however, hemmed and hawed and stalled.  One thing after another with this whole project: they insisted on all sorts of detailed reports, then refused to read them on the grounds that they were too complicated and the residents deserved a simple plan; they demanded environmental impact statements and then dragged their feet on vetting them; they ignored the many construction jobs, the larger tax ratables of new residents (and Hempstead sorely needs them) and new businesses (ditto).

This has been dragging on for longer than this lead-in; but all of a sudden check out this guy, senior councilman Anthony Santino:
Too much is at stake for the town to take a wait and see approach. Supervisor Murray and I intend to be proactive in the creation of a reasonable zoning plan that ensures that the Lighthouse gets built so that it spurs reasonable growth and development, expands the tax base, provides for construction jobs and long-term employment opportunities, and creates a new home for the New York Islanders.

(stick-tap to Chris Botta at Isles Point Blank)
 
If so very much is at stake, why has Hempstead taken a wait-and-NEVER-see approach for lo these three or more years?  Proactive?  You had a plan on the table with all the legwork done.  You're the ones who wanted it scaled back and back until there was essentially nothing but a retrofitted Nassau Coliseum.  NOW all of a sudden you want the tax base and construction jobs and long-term residents?  OH, and by the way, at the end of the sentence, yeah, why not let the Islanders stay?  Y'know, so the guy who OWNS THE TEAM might actually build all this crap for us on his own dime - which was what he WANTED TO DO IN THE FIRST PLACE.
 
I hate lying crapweasel politicians.  (Yes, probably a redundancy, but I am really irked right now.)  And Botta's got this clown pegged, right down to his red bulbous Pinocchio nose:
Essentially what Santino is doing is paving the way for Hempstead’s inevitable slashing of the project in June by two-thirds. The timing of Santino’s letter, after the recent double-dip of news of the Shinnecock Casino followed by the Islanders playing ball with the Mets, is not coincidental.
I really want my guys to stay put, but if they do go to Willets Point or something, Hempstead's only got Mayor Murray to blame.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Wife-beating, coke-snorting...

...athiest, cat-killing Mets.

NEW YORK (AP) -- Prosecutors say former baseball player and actor Joseph Petcka beat, stomped and kicked a cat to death in a jealous and drunken fury after complaining that his girlfriend loved the feline more than she loved him.
...
Petcka, who pitched in the New York Mets' minor-league system in 1992. ... claimed he unintentionally killed the declawed cat on March 27, 2007, while defending himself from it.

Bastard. What can a declawed cat do? Bite, maybe, but cats primarily use their claws in any confrontation - and we're not talking about a 100 pound dog or something. The largest breeds may reach twenty pounds. That's why a cat will usually retreat or hide, especially after coming off poorly in any initial meeting. Petcka would have had to follow the cat to wherever it tried to hole up, then drag it out and stomp on it to inflict all the injuries listed in the initial story.

This joker would have fit right in with the Dallas Green Mets - bleach squirters, firecracker tossers, and generally surly.

The trial took only four days. Hopefully I can update soon with news that this clown is going to the pokey.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Tell me again, who's mentally inferior?

I'm going to start with a language alert for the links below. Rachel Lucas and the Ace of Spades have been loading up with both barrels lately. But when you read the accounts, I'm not sure that you would blame them.

Starting here... there's the breathtakingly shallow, cruel, and self-serving opinion of one Nicholas Provenza -

Like many, I am troubled by the implications of Alaska governor and Republican Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin's decision to knowingly give birth to a child disabled with Down syndrome. Given that Palin's decision is being celebrated in some quarters, it is crucial to reaffirm the morality of aborting a fetus diagnosed with Down syndrome (or by extension, any unborn fetus)—a freedom that anti-abortion advocates seek to deny.


Notice how people like this are always "troubled by the implications," and it's ALWAYS about other people's actions. None of these jokers get troubled by the implications of what they do or say. Now, I'm not talking about making a mistake, because that's everybody - I'm talking about making a mistake, and being so emotionally involved in the mistake that one begins first to excuse it, and then to defend it, and finally to promote it. Every step escalates not only the original error, but leads one to new and worse errors, all taken (and justified) as necessary - even admirable! - in order to prove the point of the first mistake.

Why not just admit the first error and move along, happy? For all we hear of "it's the journey, not the destination," lots of people seem to be stuck in neutral, or worse.

That error, by the way, is in "reaffirm the morality of aborting a fetus." It's already been confirmed that doing so is evil. There's your morality question, easily answered.

...it is completely legitimate for a woman to look at the circumstances of her life and decide that having a child with Down syndrome (or any child for that matter) is not an obligation that she can accept. After all, the choice to have a child is a profoundly selfish choice; that is, a choice that is an expression of the parent's personal desire to create new life.


And this is the end result of trying to defend that initial error. It eventually turns one inside out, mentally - freedom is slavery, war is peace, and parenthood is selfish. To bring new life into the world, and to dedicate oneself to its service, is selfish. How dare you sacrifice your own prime years of life and all that time and money on somebody else! You thought it was noble to accept the grave responsibility of feeding, clothing, educating, civilizing, and above all unconditionally loving a creature who is at turns helpless, demanding, petulant, resentful, rebellious, and ultimately not even answerable to you in any way! Selfish bastards.

And most parents seek to create healthy life; in the case of the unborn fetuses shown to have severe developmental disabilities, one study reports that over 90% of these fetuses are aborted prior to birth. But if you notice, the anti-abortion zealots try to attach a dirty little slur to these abortions, labeling them a form of eugenics.


The Spider is fond of quoting the old saying, "Sin makes you stupid," and this is yet another example. Yes, Nicholas, this IS eugenics. That's what the word "eugenics" means. Aborting developmentally challenged fetuses is merely a means to achieve the ends of eugenics. Incidentally, so is demanding that others murder their own children in order to satisfy's one standards of racial purity.

Incidentally, that blends smoothly with the item that doubled my blood pressure: "Saving Bristol":

These are not empty words. I, Doug Stanhope, am offering you, Bristol Palin, the sum of 25,000 dollars so that you can abort your child and move out of that draconian home.


Yup - if you can't convince the mom to abort, convince her daughter. Mr. Stanhope (hereafter referred to by his initials, "scum-sucking lesion on the buttocks of humanity") is a D-list comic whose entertainment resume is nearly as thin as Obama's political one. Apparently, soliciting a contract murder on an unborn child is a step upward for his career.

Never in history has a woman been under more pressure to keep an unwanted pregnancy than Bristol Palin. She is the teenage daughter of Alaska Governor & Vice-Presidential hopeful Sarah Palin - a conservative, Creationist Christian power-vampire and pro-life huckster who has put Bristol and her un-welcomed fetus at the center of a politico-religious crusade to stop her exercising her constitutional right to terminate the pregnancy.


The creationist thing has been disproved, as far as I know. "Power vampire" is a hoot, coming from someone who is trying to further his own interests with this monstrous stunt. "Pro-life huckster" is stupid almost beyond fathoming. Huckster? As far as I can tell, asking someone not to kill their baby isn't a scam or a scheme. The pro-lifer gains nothing, and is in fact regularly reviled for it by morons like this. (But blessed are we who are cursed for the sake of righteousness...) And obviously the parents know what they would get into - in fact, many of them abort precisely because they DO know and wish to avoid it - but from purely altruistic reasons, of course...

I was once in a similar situation where I'd accidentally impregnated a girl and she had to make that same fateful decision that now faces you. It was easy for her... We made the right choice and rather than end up bitter rivals in court battles over custody or support, we are great friends who high-five over our decision and have all the free time and disposable income that young mothers never know.


I guess this stunted little troglodyte doesn't read enough Provenza. Alternately, he's making a huge sacrifice by taking on all that free time and disposable income... Lonely are the brave.

(Come to think of it, that would explain the socialist mandate to confiscate all private possessions and redistribute them - a noble sacrifice on behalf of the state, to amass all property and wealth so that we the people are not burdened by them. Or by the kids that we ought to be aborting. And if we can't be trusted to choose correctly, that choice can be made for us, capice?)

It's a spectacular, epic fail of a piece, really - it's a shocking low even for the likes of Stanhope, who is apparently so bad at his chosen field that he's been sacked from the Man Show on Spike, and failed as the on-screen host of the Girls Gone Wild video series. Mind you - this guy is so bad at what he does that he can't be trusted to attract paying customers to booze and sex.

Prohibition couldn't stop people from selling booze - Doug Stanhope did.
Sex is the one thing everyone uses to sell everything else - INCLUDING BOOZE - Doug Stanhope can't sell it.

You don't need to ruin your future in order to support the megalomaniacal self-promotion of a mother whose every action is rooted in a demonic ego and archaic superstition. Don't become victim of the same pressure that had your brother "volunteering" for duty in Iraq.


There's that selfish meme again. There's also the "burdened with a child" meme. And the "soldiers are all dupes" meme. And "ZOMG Xians are so DUM!!1!" I'd call this standard Palinsanity, but really, in a way she's just the lightning rod. The storm that rages is merely stooping upon her as the most convenient target.

If I were still the pro-choice leftist that is de rigeur in my family, this would clear the scales from my eyes. I can't fathom telling a mother that it's selfish of her to bear a child, or to suffer hardship for another's sake. It's so obviously the mirror image of what these pinheads say it is. And as far as "smarter than others," this is also proof positive that evil is not a matter of poor intelligence, but a poor heart. Provenza is obviously much more educated than Stanhope. He is possibly possessed of greater raw intellect. Yet they both come to the same conclusion - one through his intellect leading him astray, and the other through pure bile.

Evil is rooted in the will and the soul. Unchecked and undisciplined, evil rots the whole person - the emotions and the intellect. When that happens, even the strengths of a person become weaknesses, as those faculties are converted from their true ends to servants of that evil. An honest person becomes a liar, and a compassionate one turns cruel, and a smart one turns into a double-talking apologist for every sin and folly. It's like a virus turning a healthy cell into a factory for replicating viruses.

Eventually, it can reach what we see here. Everything that brings people closest to each other - family, community, faith, service - are called traps for chumps, conformist schemes designed to enslave people. But what does he offer that's so much better? Money. That's it. That's all he's got. He'll PAY to see his will done.

This guy is the turd in humanity's punchbowl. All the things he scorns are freely-chosen obligations accepted by the consent of those involved, and he thinks that money is a sufficient replacement. It's pitiable.

By contrast, virtue transforms even the humblest raw materials into great strengths. Brother Lawrence could not be trusted to handle anything more complex that answering the door to his monastery - and yet people flocked to see him rather than any of his more gifted brothers. The cart collector at the local Acme supermarket brightens everyone's day - ceaselessly cheerful and polite, and eventually named Employee of the Month. In fact, people campaigned for him to win! Who does that for anyone at a supermarket? When I worked at Friendly's our busboy and dishwasher, Frank, was about the hardest worker you could imagine. Whatever he had he poured into his menial tasks as if he were working the cure for cancer... how many "superior" folks could dare to claim that sort of commitment to their "more important" careers, or earn as much respect?

These three men are greater in the Kingdom than I. I would never dare to suggest that they were better off dead, much less that any of us would be better off if they were. The two colossal nitwits above can pour themselves a long tall glass of bugger off with a side of kiss my ass.

(update, 9/19 - noonish - ricki asked how long it would take, and the answer is, "Not long at all." [hat tip to Rachl Lukis, yet again])

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Unfrozen caveman voter

My friends, I'm just a simple caveman. Your modern machines confuse and frighten me. Your alternate media and grassroots citizen punditry upset me. It's all I can do to bitterly cling to my primitive faith system and magic bang stick in today's uptempo world of iPhones and taxpayer-funded corporate buyouts.

I don't know much about your world, but I do know one, simple thing... and that is that we must vote for our betters in this election:

Now, I want to be clear and speak directly to those of you who LOVED that Palin interview. You're an idiot. I mean that. This is not one of those cases where we're going to agree to disagree. This isn't one of those situations where we debate it passionately and then walk away thinking that the other guy is wrong but argued well. I'm not going to think of you as a thoughtful but misguided person with different ideas who still really cares about the country and the world. No, sorry, not this time. This time, if you watched those interview excerpts and weren't scared out of your freakin' mind, then you're mentally ill, mentally disabled, or mentally disturbed. What you are NOT is responsible, informed, curious, thoughtful, mature, educated, empathetic, or remotely serious. I mean it. ... Vote for someone smarter than you.


Clearly, to fail to do so - to intentionally decline to be led about by the hand like the mentally-shrivelled moonshine-chuggers we are - is to insult these great and elevated thinkers, who have so generously come down from being on high to shepherd us poor puzzled Jesus-yokels.

We should be grateful that they want to tax us into oblivion and take all of our rights. We'd just waste the money and freedom anyway! And it's a privilege to be paid any attention at all by such gods among the earth.

We are not worthy. Really, just ask them, they won't sugarcoat it for us. And thank our culturally-created God for it!

(hat tip to IMAO, where I lived up to this post by initially not believing that this could actually be written with a straight face. Well, yes it can!)

Friday, July 20, 2007

No reward is worth this

As some of you know, I ref hockey games. Or, more accurately, I ref “hockey” games. Sometimes it’s roller hockey, but more often it’s dek hockey.

The missing C is intentional – it stands for Class, a substance totally unknown to a few of the players. They curse and whine every time anything goes against them. They think that they never commit any penalties whatsoever, and loudly demand penalties any time someone brushes into them. One can’t be a ref for very long without expecting and enduring such treatment.

Thing is, such a player can’t possibly be objective, and can’t begin to understand that they aren’t being objective. The ref is the one who has to do it for them, and they don’t like it, and they pitch tantrums like a three-year old hearing “NO” in the candy aisle.

My folks brought me up to be very polite, and tantrums were definitely Not Allowed – as in, “Report to your room immediately” and “I’ll be in shortly to paddle your buttocks.” Alas, this is not an option for the ref. It’s an uncrossable line: players do not lay hands on officials, and vice-versa. A ref may restrain a player while breaking up a fight, or get between people in an argument, and that’s it.

Well, this past week Mr. Unmentionable pole-vaulted that line.

You may recall Mr. U, though not by that name. I bawled him out in language not fit for mixed company, in fact. I was boiling over. Thing is, that miserable little puke does this sort of thing all the time. He’s the worst whiner I’ve ever seen on a rink. In this instance, his team took a penalty early, and for the rest of the evening my partner and I took a shower of the usual garbage – you missed a slash, that’s tripping, you’d call that on us, get your head out of your ass, you’re biased, you’re throwing the game for the other team… Yes, gentle readers, that is not unusual – we are actually told that, for $20 per game, we are intentionally trying to make a dek hockey team lose. But my favorite is Mr. U, on his way to the penalty box, telling me “You think you’re cops because you have a whistle” – the awesome power to influence a dek hockey game has gone to our heads! Today it’s two minutes, tomorrow it’s forced labor camps in the parking lot! Call the FBI!

Not surprisingly, the more crap someone dishes, the less they’re able to take. An angry-yet-reasonable person will stare in disbelief – but they’ll hear your explanation, even if they disagree. Ol’ Rumplestiltsken, however, will shriek, and then tell you to fuck off, asshole. I’ve taken this for ten years, when someone like Mr. U couldn’t take it for a month.

On top of that, I get the usual dose of the standard ribbing that men dish out in friendship: “You’re reffing? Aw crap.” Or, “Couldn’t you play goal instead so I can get a hat trick?” Or, “Cut your hair, you hippie.” Etc. Except that in my case, there’s that manners thing. So besides this, I get people who cross that line as well – who cut to draw blood, under cover of simply kidding around, and who treat me with no respect at all precisely because they know I’m not going to make an issue out of it. And really, life’s too short.


Mr. U, however, is a bit delusional. He thinks he can actually shove me on a rink while I’m trying to do my job. I’m not sure how long his suspension will be – the rest of the season sounds just to me – but there’s something more basic that’s on my mind. It’s not the shove, or his pathetic mewling, or even the assumption that any ghetto hockey league is worth all of this grief. It’s the contemptible attitude. I know that next week he’s going to show up despite that suspension and address me as if I were an idiot child, and not an adult. He’s going to come along with some jive about what I did wrong. If I do, by some miracle, get an apology, it will immediately be followed by “BUT” and a further lecture about how bad I am reffing, and what a piece of shit I am.

I’ll save him the trouble. Mr. Unmentionable can kiss my ass – and given his height, he won’t have to bend over to get there, either.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Pooping the party

According to the Corner and SarahK, some troll has decided that nobody is allowed to have any fun that they don't approve of - he took pictures of the entire closing chapter of the last Harry Potter book and posted them online.

Fear not, the links above only take you to news of the perfidy, and not the pages themselves. Hopefully our anonymous jackass winds up with the word SNEAK gleaming across his smug face. Pretty much none of us are likely to be in the position to have millions counting down the hours to our latest work: but I would hope to be permitted the choice of how that work was unveiled if it were mine. Really, would you like it if someone told you what was going under the Christmas tree on December 20th?