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racist dogs

May 31, 2006

My brother and his girlfriend adopted a dog, but their attempt was ill-fated. He writes:

So we are definitely “voting the dog out of the apartment” this week. While he is fun when he wants to be, he is also a freakin jerk a good portion of the time. He doesn’t listen almost at all. He steals. He barks to ridiculous extents. He whines like a bitch. He tries to bite us sometimes (not hard but it still sucks). And he also tries to attack people of… how should I put this… colorful ethnic backgrounds. So yeah, Joey the dog turned out to be a big fat racist pain in the ass. It’s really upsetting too. I had high hopes for this dog. He’s such a smart dog. Unfortunately, he chooses to use his intelligence not for good, but instead for evil. Stupid dog.

I inquired about the dog’s racism: does he discriminate based on skin tone alone — barking louder in proportion to the darkness of the skin tone? Or is racist against one variety of non-white people exclusively? “How about tiny Japanese women?” I asked.  ”Could you trick him with a tanned Caucasian, or an albino African-American?”

He replies: “Well so far we have found aversions to Mexican painters, a small black girl, and a very non-threatening Indian man. We do have a good sampling here in the DC area. He has yet to bump into any Asians though. I’m sure it is only a matter of time.”

That dog’s gotta go. I mean, I figured that if it were just one demographic — for instance, tiny Japanese women– then perhaps the dog was once beaten by a tiny Japanese woman and is thus reacting in a rationally protective manner. But I doubt this dog has experienced abuse at the hands of Mexican painters, a small black girl, and a very non-threatening Indian man.

How does a dog go so wrong?

Not that racist dogs weren’t said to have been trained by police during the ’60s. In lighter New Zealand faux-news, racist dog spoils dinner party.

I’m curious — do dogs pick up racism from their (in this case, previous) owners, or might some dogs have a natural predilection to attack anyone who is ethnically dissimilar to their owners in an attempt to “protect” them? If the latter case, would Joey the Dog, if then adopted by a non-white person, begin to attack white people in an attempt to protect the new owner? Is this an entrenched racism, like that of humans, or might is be a malleable sort of xenophobia?

an exclusive

May 31, 2006

What comedians read on the road, from Carolyn Castiglia.

"gravitas" has been one of my favorite words since high school

May 31, 2006

This article discusses how the term “perky” has been typically applied to women only, and “grativas” to men only

There may be such a thing as a perky man (Richard Simmons comes to mind), but in reality, “perky” belongs in the realm of adjectives used to modify women. Its antonym, “gravitas,” is presumed to apply to men only. ” ‘Gravitas’ is a code word,” according to Connie Chung. Chung, who co-anchored the “CBS Evening News” with Dan Rather in the mid-1990s, told Newsweek for its April 17 cover story that people who say Couric lacks gravitas are implicitly endorsing a sexist point of view. “It has an offensive, chauvinistic connotation that should not be applied to any newswoman today.”

But Camille Paglia, a feminist who is often at odds with the feminist establishment, said many women possess gravitas, a term that was applied to Roman senators of antiquity who were expected to demonstrate leadership and sobriety. She would exclude Couric but include Sen. Dianne Feinstein, D-Calif., the novelist Toni Morrison, and the late writers Ayn Rand, Lillian Hellman and Simone de Beauvoir. “Women, if they ever expect to ascend to the presidency and be commander in chief, had better learn what ‘gravitas’ is and stop blowing it off as some sort of backlash word,” she said.

Thank you, Camille. I don’t think I tell her that enough.

Of course women can fucking have gravitas. Madeline Albright, anyone?

my grandfather used to send me his copies of Skeptical Inquirer when I was twelve

May 31, 2006

I am delighted to find a thorough scientific investigation of the topic Can We Tell When Someone Is Staring At Us?

Because of the possibility that subjects, when cognitively focused on an important activity-like eating or drinking, or reading and studying, or problem solving-would not or could not attend to weaker or more subtle stimulation from psi or other paranormal sources such as “feelings of being stared at,” a second study was carried out. If subjects were told that over a fixed time-period they would be stared at on a number of separate occasions, they might well be able to detect when they are being observed. Since they are focused on the problem of “being stared at” rather than competing activities their ability to detect stares should be maximized.

Funny Bone photos

May 31, 2006

This is me on stage at the Boise Funny Bone, looking somewhat troubled.This is me with Funny Bone manager Brian, feature act Tracey Ashley, and ten-year-old comic Trevor Hattabaugh (he’s drinking root beer). It’s awesome to be pushing thirty and find someone who’s balancing your job with a demanding sixth-grade courseload.

a conundrum

May 31, 2006

An outfit that is entirely appropriate for a warm night out in the East Village is completely inappropriate on the walk through East Harlem to the subway.

Now that I think about it, though, a little chocolate with my vanilla sounds nice, thank you for offering.

we went to college for this?

May 29, 2006

This is the back of my iPod, as first presented in this post:

Brian Van, remembering my Magritte jest*, sent this.

*S.M., however, pointed out that “Ceci n’est pas une iPod” loses a bit of its verve when printed on an actual iPod, rather than a representation of one. However, on the blog, that problem is solved!

posty blog post bloggity post

May 29, 2006

I’m at the Boise airport, where there’s free WiFi, McDonald’s serves Seattle’s Best coffee, and a woman traversing terminal B just shouted “Hey, I saw your show last night, good job!”

I’ll be at the spelling bee tonight. You know, in case you want to stalk me.

dear world

May 28, 2006

I love the forward-post-to-a-friend feature on Craigslist. For instance, if I see a posting that says “Six-foot-tall black actress needed for comedic short film,” I could click on “forward to a friend” and send the posting to a friend who meets that description.

However, if you don’t quite want that person to know you’re the one who sent the posting, you can simply put the recipient’s address as both sender and recipient, and the recipient receives an email ostensibly from herself, to herself.

This gets weird when you start getting Craigslist postings and you don’t know whom they’re from. For instance, if you wanted to send someone a posting that said “scary, ugly type needed for gangster role” without that person knowing you thought they were ugly, you might send such a thing anonymously.

Yeah … so, every once in awhile, someone forwards me a Craigslist posting for “Strong women needed for ball-crushing video.”

Thanks.

Boise blues

May 27, 2006

I am currently emceeing at the Boise Funny Bone, right across the street from…

Steven Segal’s blues band.

He’s … uh … not drawing well.

spelling bee news (I’ll be back on Monday)

May 27, 2006

Congratulations to our Season 3 Finals winners!

1st – Jonathan Lill
2nd – Megan Rudesill
3rd – Adam Daland
4th – Emily Helfgot
5th – Noel Claro
6th – Mint Lynch-Macduff

Those boobs that are overpowering the photo (not a complaint) belong to Mint

The Season 3 Finals demonstrated a sort of poetic justice as Jonathan Lill, winner of the first-ever Williamsburg Spelling Bee in September, 2004, deservedly took home a season championship.

Now, the slate is wiped clean, and a new season begins Monday…

The Williamsburg Spelling Bee
Monday, May 29th
Sign up at 7, compete at 7:30
Pete’s Candy Store, 709 Lorimer St. in Williamsburg

A real adults-only spelling bee, as featured in the New York Times, made kinder and gentler by a three-strikes-you’re-out policy. 1st place – $25 bar tab, 2nd place – $15 bar tab, 3rd place – free panini sandwich (plus eternal glory!)

p.s. The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee is back on board as a sponsor! Each regular season bee winner will get a t-shirt from the musical, and the winner of this season’s finals will get a pair of tickets.

SpudFudge!

May 26, 2006

I’m still in Boise. As I’ve been staying on stage, “I like to have a little respect for my audience — no jokes about potatoes, and no references to the fact that your state’s name has the word ‘ho’ in it, especially in relation to anyone’s mother.”

The new Boise downtown is called “BoDo.” I had a great breakfast there this morning. The menu had ten-odd potato options. It’s a tasty place for a high-carb diet.

I walked into an Idaho souvenir shop and found this!

SpudFudge!

the state that’s got yo momma’s name in it

May 24, 2006

Holy shit, I’m in Idaho.

I commented to the young guy working the desolate but lovely Moxie Java that it was my first time in Boise, and that so far I was enjoying all the personal space (and WiFi — I’m waiting at baggage claim!) in the airport. He said Idaho was indeed “the land of personal space.”

Better than the 6 train!

Tom’s Diner radio, for real

May 24, 2006

I used to think Mapquest was the thing that really made the internet all worth it. I mean, sure the Hamsterdance had its day, but what did we used to do before Mapquest? Visit the AAA? Look up street names in an alphabetical list in the back of a big heavy road atlas we kept in the back seat of our car?

I mean, I certainly spend a lot of time on the internet, but much of it is just a substitute for brain-numbing television. (From gofugyourself’s post today about Heather Graham: “I can’t get over it: That is a supremely fugly, fugly crime against denim. I believe the wife of the mayor of Fugtopia wore that to his inauguration.”)

But now I think that the point of it all might be Pandora.

Serenade No. 13 in G Major

May 22, 2006

Half an hour ago, I bought an album called “250 Minutes of Mozart” off iTunes. Four hours and ten minutes of music seemed like quite a bargain for ten bucks. The Theme from Figaro went very well, but now Serenade No. 13 in G Major is reminding me how much I hated Mozart when I was twelve, because he wrote such monotonous viola parts. The second violins didn’t get it much easier, either. The first violin section gets all the fun, while we’re stuck playing “D” in eighth notes for, like, five minutes. Sometimes I’d get bored and stop looking at the music and then I’d realize I should’ve switched to playing, say, “F” for the next five minutes.

Violas are slightly larger and deeper than violins.
I have one in my house that I never play.
In 2004 I was broke and considered playing Christmas songs
in the subway, possibly while jingling bells on some part
of my person, but I didn’t really have the nerve.

Mozart is very boring when you are a twelve-year-old violist who works very hard and just wants to play something that does not make her cerebral cortex melt from sheer monotony, because if she wanted that, she’d have taken up child factory labor, not playing orchestral music partly in order to hang out with the cool upper-middle class kids whose parents sent them to summer orchestra camps, which I’m sure weren’t quite as exciting as American Pie would have us believe band camp might be*, but which nevertheless were a high and mighty aspiration that led her to Serenade No. 13 in G Major, and then, in the tenth grade, after seven years involving up to thirty hours a week of practice, suddenly realizing that it really wasn’t worth it, and that she preferred listening to classical music while doing something else, such as watching a movie with a well-matched soundtrack, or, as now, drinking inexpensive Pinot Grigio from an East Harlem liquor store while wearing the new polka-dot dress** she bought and was trying on before getting distracted by a familiar stretch of violas playing “D” and blogging about the whole mess before she got caught up in the Pinot Grigio and forgot.

* Violas are not only bigger than violins, but also substantially larger than flutes.

** Total number of polka dot dresses owned: now five.

This is a photo of me on the first day of tenth grade. If you think I look cool here, imagine how awesome I looked carrying a hard-shell viola case. I do mean that self-deprecatingly, although, if I were a middle-aged man, I’d do her. I mean, certainly there would be hotter girls in the school, but if you’re a middle-aged man screwing high school girls, you might want the added wholesomeness-meets-perviness of screwing the girl who carries a hardshell viola case on the bus. But from the perspective of my current self looking back at my former self, maybe I could’ve skipped the viola, gotten some better glasses, and declined to pose for first-day-of-school photos in front of the family bookcase. Also, no one looks good carrying a backpack.

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