Archive for Popular Culture


Elections Are About Choice

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Can Martin Freeman do one for Democrats in 2016?

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The Daily Show
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Om nom nom! Waffles!This is an invitation to a Waffle Brunch I help organize once a year. It’s a lot of fun – and if you don’t show up you’ll be missing out on some seriously awesome food. It’s known to local foodies as ” The Greatest Waffle Brunch In History.”

Chefs from around the world compete in Asheville, NC to decide who will be crowned “Master of the Waffle Iron And Supreme Potentate Over All Creation”.

To aid this culinary contest the community (That’s YOU) comes together to taste & vote on the waffles. Side-items such as fruit salad, bacon, and mimosas are provided by the attendees to share with one another.

This year all proceeds go to BAMFS – The Blueridge-Asheville Movement & FlowArts Society. (Look them up & “Like” them on Facebook.)

The Waffle-Off Championship is considered the most important event on Earth.

Cost: $5 per person + _ONE_ of the following items to share:

–> Real maple syrup (No HFCS please)
–> 1 gallon of organic orange juice
–> 1 bottle of Sparkling wine (aka: Champagne)
–> Bowl of fruit salad. (Doesn’t have to be organic fruit)
–> Something you want to share with the community, as long as it’s pre-cooked. (eg: Bacon, Mom’s breakfast strudel.)

Link to ticket page:

Advance ticket: $5
Tickets at door: $8

Note: A small group, such as a family or couple, may show up with a single one of the above items and it will count for the entire group. (For example: A family of 4 can bring a single bottle of real maple syrup.) If you don’t have time to pick up one or create of the items, no worries, an additional $5 will be accepted.

* Kids under the age of 10 and press get in free.

So, to summarize:

What: 2015 Waffle-Off Championship & Brunch

When: Sunday – March 29th 2015 @ 10:00am – 12:30pm

Why: To answer the most important question of all time: Who makes the best waffles IN THE UNIVERSE!!!???

This event is a benefit for BAMFS: Blueridge-Asheville Movement & FlowArts Society (Look us up on Facebook)

Where: The Asheville Commissary – 3080 Sweeten Creek Rd Asheville, NC 28803. (Formerly CinTom’s Frozen Yogurt) Refer to this Google Map:

This is a rain-or-shine event.


All Groovy, No Groove

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Photo from a Day in the Life of Asheville event, April 18-19, 2008 in Asheville, NC, USA, by zen Sutherland

Photo from a Day in the Life of Asheville event, April 18-19, 2008 in Asheville, NC, USA, by zen Sutherland via Creative Commons

Hooligan David Cohen (“actual drummer”) pointed to the “DRUM CIRCLE OF DEATH” on Facebook, saying:

“This is pretty funny. When people ask me if I am a drummer, I usually like to say “I play drums”; not out of any false modesty, but because I know MANY skilled drummers who have a better claim to that title than I do. But one thing I don’t do is look to the drums for some kind of emotional outlet, or to engage in a mass spiritual vibe. The drums are one more tool for me to express my creativity, not a social lubricant. Owning a drum doesn’t make one a drummer. Asheville, I’m looking at you.”

It was too good not to share, at least in part, one drummer’s experience with drum circles:

Many years ago, I accepted a few of these invitations, thinking I would be immersed in a collective of fairly knowledgeable drummers with decent time feel and a reasonable amount of self-control. Instead, I was (at one drum circle, at least) asked to join hands in prayer before the circle (kill me, please) and then was thrown into a maelstrom of flailing hippie craziness. They leapt about, like looney forest sprites, randomly striking hand drums and shaking rain sticks.

They swayed and chanted. They crescendoed independently, and everyone soloed – the entire time.


For an actual drummer to gain a rhythmic foothold in this madness was beyond possibility. For one to engage in the exchange, one must surrender control and succumb to the Bubble, which I guess is the true yogic approach. But I just couldn’t. Every time I tried to surrender, my drummer brain would kick in, and I would try in vain to lock down some semblance of a groove. Logic, counting, time – it was all irrelevant, replaced by Neanderthalic bombast. We sacrificed the One in the name of Oneness.

There’s more. Enjoy.

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Your Moment of Him

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Categories : Popular Culture, Race, Satire
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Vaccination: It’s Bigger Than You

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No Truth In Pravda Either

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The Daily Show
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At Crooks and Liars, Heather writes:

I was wondering when Jon Stewart was finally going to get around to responding to Megyn Kelly’s comments following the news that he was going to be leaving The Daily Show that he “hasn’t been a force for good” and that “in his later years he got a little nasty,” and Rich Lowry whining that Stewart was mean to those poor picked on, downtrodden conservatives.

And Fox News, media organ for the right? Well, one could say about Fox News,

As the names of the main Communist newspaper and the main Soviet newspaper, Pravda and Izvestia, meant “the truth” and “the news” respectively, a popular Russian saying was “v Pravde net izvestiy, v Izvestiyakh net pravdy” (In the Truth there is no news, and in [Fox News] there is no truth).

Perhaps Stewart’s critiques sound false to them because they’ve lost the ability to hear themselves. So says Politifact:

Fox News promotes the most false information among TV news outlets, according to a fact-checking watchdog – and the problem is only getting worse.

Politifact regularly examines claims made on air by pundits, hosts, or paid contributors and rates those statements by accuracy.

The latest scorecard showed more than 60 percent of the claims made on Fox News were mostly false or worse – and half of all claims were either demonstrably false or outright lies.

The result of a “chronically angry war for ideological purity,” as Stewart said.

Categories : Media, Popular Culture
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Veni, vidi, vaya con Dios

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It seems a bright eighth grader in Vermont thought it would be a good idea for the state to adopt a Latin motto. So Republican state Sen. Joe Benning introduced legislation recommending Stella quarta decima fulgeat (“May the fourteenth star shine bright”). The phrase harkens back to when Vermont entered the union as the 14th state.

Wonkette has what happened next:

And then Burlington TV station WCAX put the story on its Facebook page with the headline, “Should Vermont have an official Latin motto?” and all Stupid broke loose when morons thought that Vermont was knuckling under to a bunch of goddamned illegal immigrants.

An email from Benning to the Vermont Political Observer captured the irony:

I anticipated suffering the backroom internal joking from my colleagues in the legislature. What I did not anticipate was the vitriolic verbal assault from those who don’t know the difference between the Classics and illegal immigrants from South America.

A couple of samples:

“I thought Vermont was American not Latin? Does any Latin places have American mottos?”
“ABSOLUTLY NOT!!!! sick and tired of that crap, they have their own countries”
“How do you say idiotic senator in spanish? I’d settle for deport illegals in spanish as a back up motto”
“Hell No! This is America, not Latin America. When in Rome do as the Romans do!”

Later commenters jumped in to lampoon the earlier posts, of course. Wonkette and the Vermont Political Observer have more.

Quod erat demonstrandum.

(Cross-posted from Hullabaloo.)

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Losing our collective nerve

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Ballast Point Park Playground, Tampa, FL (via Wikimedia Commons)

Besides suffering Ronald Reagan in the 1980s, the decade saw (IIRC) parents bringing the kiddies to the mall on Saturday to be photographed and fingerprinted. Maybe bringing dental impressions to help identify their bodies. We called these “child safe” programs. In the 1950s, it was commies hiding in the woodpile. By the 1980s, it was child abducters hiding behind every tree. Heaven forfend that little Johnny or Janie should walk or ride a bike to school or to the playground without a hypervigilant parent for a bodyguard. Well, somebody is finally trying to beak the spell:

On a recent Saturday afternoon, a 10-year old Maryland boy named Rafi and his 6-year old sister, Dvora, walked home by themselves from a playground about a mile away from their suburban house. They made it about halfway home when the police picked them up. You’ve heard these stories before, about what happens when kids in paranoid, hyperprotective America go to and from playgrounds alone. I bet you can guess the sequence of events preceding and after: Someone saw the kids walking without an adult and called the police. The police tracked down the kids and drove them home. The hitch this time is, when the police got there, they discovered that they were meddling with the wrong family.

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Enter The Krampus!

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