Seen on the cover of a British women’s magazine, in the grocery line.

“How your POSTCODE affects your ORGASM!”

If the person in front of me had had more groceries, I would’ve picked it up and tried to read the article. I can’t even imagine what it had to say. Anyone want to take a stab at it?

Linguistics and Genes

Apparently, our genes determine language? This May 31st article in the Economist talks about the natural selection for “communication” genes. People who speak tonal languages (Chinese) have different genes than those who speak non-tonal languages (English). Muy interessante.

Words in code

FIVE years ago three well-known academics, including Noam Chomsky, wrote that the half-century old “interdisciplinary marriage” between biology and linguistics “has not yet been fully consummated.” That same year other scientists described the molecular evolution of a gene called FOXP2 which, when mutated, seems to cause people severe difficulty with grammar and articulation.

Internet access = running water.

How the hell am I supposed to enjoy myself at the beach in a condo w/o Internet access? There’s a toilet. There’s electricity. There’s cable TV. So why isn’t there wi-fi? Honestly, I think I’d rather not have a toilet and just void myself into empty beer bottles.

(I am in a Krystal right now, and the whole reason I’m here is so I can check e-mail and find out what’s going on in the world. I laughed when I read that Krystal was adding free wi-fi at all of their locations, but hey, here I am. It costs them almost nothing and apparently brings in at least some business.)

Anyway, the weather is here; wish you were beautiful. Or something.

Batshit in Gauntanamo

If you’ve got about an hour to listen to a recorded radio broadcast, check out This American Life‘s ep re: habeas corpus. It hits on how the principle no longer applies to folk on the US shit list in Git-mo, why it should never, ever be rescinded, and the “you just want sit down and cry” tragedies that our country committed b/c it doesn’t apply right now.

Here are some highlights, though you should just go hear it your own selves.

First, habeas corpus. It’s a judicial review of both a prisoner’s condition and whether there’s a valid reason for the prisoner’s…imprisonment. The bar is low on both counts. Can the judge see for hizzerhurronerable self that the prisoner hasn’t been tortured? And, can the executive explain why the prisoner belongs in irons? That’s it. No evidence needed, other than the body of the prisoner, his living corpus. No great explanation required, though it can’t be just “uh, he pissed of my uncle’s friend’s parakeet.” No “reasonable doubt,” just get the judge to believe Mr. Dude belongs in jail.

Second, whether habeas applies to our–that’s yours and mine, if you missed it–detainees in Guantanamo. Turns out the SCOTUS said it does, so that’s that. The finding there was more or less ” since they’re not citizens, they don’t have constiutional rights; since they’re enemy combatants, the the Geneva conventions don’t apply, so they have no rights by treaty; well, they can’t just fall into legal limbo, and so they have rights under common law.” Turns out being subject to writs of habeas corpus is as common as muck in the Western World, and it’s been so since 1215 A-friggin-D.

So, the detainees get a habeas review, albeit not one in federal court.

Except it’s a sham, a farce, a letter without spirit. That’s the third highlight. Prisoners don’t get lawyers, they get “personal representatives” who are members of the military. These guys say exactly nothing during the hearing: they don’t present exculpatory evidence, they don’t examine the accusations, they sit there with one thumb up their butt and the other stuck in their sucking piehole. Neither the “judge” nor the accused see any evidence, since it’s all “classified.” Reviews last for about 15 minutes, and then they are over.

The fourth highlight: yup, it’s really torture. It’s sleep deprivation. It’s forcing people to remain in fixed positions for the better part of a day. It’s pouring red liquid on Muslims and telling them its menses, or making ‘em kiss a cross. It’s hitting people, it’s putting out cigarettes on them, its whacking ‘em with electrical shocks.

The fifth, final, bestest, highestest light: the mistakes, the wrongly emprisoned, the innocent who’ve had their lives made hell for 5 years. I can’t think of a worse fate than being imprisoned and tortured for the wrong reasons. For years. Some of these guys aren’t terrorists. Two were imprisoned because of 2 jokes they published in their Pashtu literary mag. One of the jokes was at Bill Clinton’s expense.

Another prisoner was picked up because he was friends with a suicide bomber who’d gone boom. Yup, he was friends with a real bad dead guy, so he went to Gitmo.

Except…his friend blew up 2 years after US forces grabbed him. Yup, he was jailed because two years after he went to jail, his friend killed some folks.

Except…his friend is alive and well in Germany. And German intelligence says his friend was never a terrorist in the first place.

The US of A is doing this. US. Us, dammit.

You cryin’, yet? No? Go listen. You will. Cry.

Executed killer’s last words:

“Go Raiders!”

Profound. I can be as much “Rah-Rah Local Sports Team!” as anybody, but that’s just idiotic.

Jameson is now my sworn enemy

Mandatory hangover update:

After 3 + hours of flip cup, where Here for the Beer dominated, I found myself to be the last girl in the bar. And then someone twisted my arm to do shots of Jameson. That will put hair on your chest! Needless to say, there is quite the cloud in my brain this morning. The best part of course, was finding myself sleepwalking last night. I woke up in the middle of my livingroom without the foggiest notion of how I got there. Jameson made me do it. It’s not the presciption sleep aids that make people shoplift, or eat the contents of their fridge, or crash into concrete barriers on Capitol Hill. It’s the Jameson.

what does chicken noodle soup do for you anyway?

good lord… i get lost in a few overworked days and come back to eighty-five posts. is there even confirmation that people beyond the actual writers read this blog? not that it matters. here i go.

the husband and i are laid out today with some kind of bug. (for those of you that do not know, “the husband” is the brother to FDCN or FCDN – whatever; i don’t feel like looking it up). we both have a bit of a fever, in the 99s. of course, i worked a 10-hour day anyway and brought some soup home. and there is the husband, sprawled on the couch like he is on the verge of death.

what is it with men and being sick? 99.1° and you can hear an ambulance in the distance from the way they look. excuse the mass generalization but i don’t have the energy for a disclaimer beyond that.

ok, back to american idol. don’t give me that face, andrew.

Best Ever Bridesmaid Dresses

Typical Male Description of Bridesmaid Dresses:

I ask my cousin what colors are in his wedding June 2 (I’m reading a scripture in it).  He replies, “Uhhh… I think they’re black and cream.  Think a creamy pint of Guinness!!!”

This is my gene pool, people!

RIAA seeks to extend its empire of assholery

Once again, an old Onion satire article has proven prophetic. Now the RIAA is looking to repeal the royalty exemption for broadcast radio stations. Good lord.

If you haven’t seen it, may I suggest the RIAA Radar as an easy way to tell whether a record under the aegis of these bastards. And then if it was, may I suggest an alternate way to obtain it.

what do you find disgusting?

i heard about a “disgust scale” quiz you can take online from another blogger and thought i would post it here. a nice little distraction from your day, if you need it. i took the quiz myself and was strangely proud to discover that i have a higher level of tolerance for the “disgusting” things described than the average quiz-taker. my small victory of the day.

after taking the quiz, i was reminded of low’s video for their song “breaker,” which i watched on youtube a while back. all symbolism aside, that video is my idea of disgusting. stepping barefoot on an inchworm? barely fazes me. inflating a lubricated condom with my mouth? no problem. watching a man stuff himself with cake and milk? truly disgusting.