Ok. So it is getting old because it really should be no big deal. Fine. But since everyone else already weighed in and talked about it and talked about people who were talking about it et cetera ad infinitum, I’m going to have my go as well.

Here’s the thing. I am totally on the liberal train. I adore Jon Stewart. It’s fun to watch him deliver a good punch to Liars and Evil (occasionally and dangerously considered synonymous with “Conservative”). And I’m pretty sure there is some Evil happening with this Cramer guy; indeed it’s hard to think otherwise with the fabulous videographic dirt that Stewart dug up.

But it doesn’t mean there’s a halo on the other side of the table.

Why?

Well, for starters, it’s really easy to kick someone on your own show – you have all the prep materials and home field advantage. But I will concede that this is just one of the ways of the world. Fine.

Still, how can you make someone sit and watch embarrassing footage of himself looking like an asshole in front of the whole country, and then when he attempts to stand up for himself (however misguided his attempts may be), chide him for making this all about him when it isn’t. That’s a really cheap shot.

And the whole schtick about being a snake oil salesman who sells his goods as properly labeled snake oil is equally disconcerting. Labeling yourself as snake oil would mean that you are sure to convey to your audience that what you sell is false. Yes, the Daily Show is an entertainment program. But, at the same time, it is doubtless that Jon Stewart would be embarrassed if he found he had reported a fact that turned out to be false. It is doubtless that he knows the information he broadcasts is believed. He is aware of the fact that people might rely on his reporting as credible, even if the reporting style is light on its feet. Don’t try to tell me Jon Stewart thought of his conversation with Cramer as anything but serious. It’s the mother lode of cop-outs to then turn around and absolve yourself of any responsibility by saying that you are only joking. And we all know how I feel about taking responsibility for things.

What do you think?

Ice nine!

Man, you would think Armageddon was upon us with this weather recently.

On Sunday we decided to go out for breakfast, and when we walked out the front door, it was hailing rock salt sized hail like a mother, peppering the lawn and street. I thought it would be raining frogs when we returned. Instead, when we returned it was sunny and clear with birds a-tweeting – just as strange a transition if you ask me.

On Monday, it was snowing ever so delicately when I left the house. After I got settled in at the office, a blizzard promptly settled in as well, which pulsated throughout the day. No snow stuck, so I suppose (from inside the heated office) it was harmless, but we were definitely inside of a snow globe.

PLUS there’s that whole sordid affair called Daylight Savings Time (I hate you and am moving to Arizona) wherein everyone is shuffling around, head lolling to the side because they were rudely awoken by hour-early alarm clocks and forced to brave the cold on a Monday morning. The Starbucks line I walk by when it’s cold was at least twice its normal length. The horror!

The miserable precipitation coupled with so many downturned heads really just screams that a Paper or Vomit tournament is in order.

Paper or Vomit is this game I invented on my most recent trip to New York last summer. Whenever a city’s streets are wet, they are covered in various colors and consistencies of mush. One never can tell if they are about to step in harmless streak of rainwater/paper concoction, or a landmine of last night’s drunkard sick. It’s really quite an extraordinary game, and one is quite motivated to play because the consequence of being wrong is vomit on the shoe.

But as lovely as that game is, and as privileged as I am to be afforded the opportunity to play, oh Mighty Weather Gods, I would so dearly love to just trade this madness in for a REAL March. Ok? I’ll love you forever and like your for always.

Yours truly,
Ms. Moot

1. This article is a gas. Quite literally. And I’m thinking it should be kept a secret because otherwise all the men who would have been aided by this drug will go flaccid at the thought of fart-induced erections.
2. This is just creepy. Bleeding from the mouth. Gross. And it got me to thinking about what it must have been to be alive during the plague. Can you even imagine? I believe there may be places in the world today where people live under similar circumstances, but here in the cushy bubble where we live, it’s just impossible to imagine. The idea that (conservatively estimating) one third of the people you know would die – and die suddenly is just mind boggling. Our personal philosophies would have to shift so drastically to accommodate that kind of reality that it’s hard to even hazard to guess how different we would be…

That is all but for one question of the day: I was at a coffee shop this weekend looking at the magazine rack and I took a gander at Adbusters. Except that Adbusters comes in a plastic sheath so I could only see the front and back covers. And I could SWEAR there was an honest-to-goodness advertisement on the back. Was I duped or has someone gone mad? If you have the answer, please take a moment to comment because I will not be able to sleep until I find out if indeed the culture jamming headquarters has sold out, which would be simultaneously ironically hilarious, and utterly sadtimes.

Yesterday, one of my coworkers noticed flowers on my desk.

Ooooo…who sent you those?

My boyfriend, of course.

For what?

Because he’s nice.

She narrows her eyes.

No. But, for what occasion.

None.

Suspicious glaring.

But what did you DO?

Nothing.

No, seriously.

Ummm. I was stressed out and I had a headache on Monday night.

A headache?

Well, I get migraines, you know. So…a BAD headache. But yeah. ::shrug:: He’s a good one.

Jaw drops open. Nose wrinkles.

Achhh! Well, yeeaaah he is!