Meet Piyush 'Bobby' Jindal.

Born-again Catholic convert.

Intelligent Design advocate.

Anti-abortion advocate.

Hate crimes law opponent.

In short, an all-round neocon wingnut.

Aah, fooey to the Indian press and the Indian people for fellating this looney tune for becoming Governor of Lousiana just because his parents happened to be from around here.

My prediction: When the first Indian-origin US serial killer is apprehended, there will be a similar upwelling of unconditional pride and support back in the MotherFucked Land.

Followup aah fooeys to the Durga Puja asshattery, which, with its attendant idol immersion stupidity, has stunk up Ulsoor lake again. Ahh, the stench of godflesh rotting...

All I've got left is a mean-spirited HELLS YEAH \m/ to the monkeys who were involved in the death of SS Bajwa, Deputy Mayor of Delhi and BJP man. A friend of mine made such a totally cringeworthy joke about this one, I have to share it with you:

I imagine Bajwa was pacing up and down his balcony saying to himself, 'We must have Ram Setu because it is Ram Setu!' At which point the monkeys jumped in, said 'If you have anything to setu Ram, say to him directly!' and pushed him off.

Moohaha. Bad taste and unfunny, but it's all I got.

An extra special Aah Fooey to organised religion, as usual, but in this case inspired by Durga Puja. This year's Durga festival got over on the weekend. There's a Durga temple near my house, and on sunday they took out their usual procession, parading the idol of the goddess through the area.

My wife and I went out to pick up some groceries on Sunday evening, and here's what we were treated to:

Crowds of devotees blocking the streets and roads.
Unruly, drunk hooligans, often with face paint on, swaggering around and drinking in public (which I'd get caned for at a rock show, you fucking hypocrites)
Trails of litter left behind by the devotees, including beer cans, arrack packets (I thought those things were banned) and the usual snacks wrappers
One loathsome, vile asshole who took advantage of the darkness and the crowds to grope my wife. We confronted him, and he and his friend tried to rough us up, and threatened me with a rock. We started yelling and asking them to come to the police (who were just around the corner), and they ran. No thanks to the highly socially responsible rubberneckers who parked their bikes at a safe distance down the road to gawk.

My wife did get in a good punch at the fellow who molested her. I could hear the thud when her fist impacted. I hope that hurt.

To all the gods-sucking theism apologists out there, is this the sense of community and shared values that you keep pretending religion provides? Is this the sort of respect for women that is being instilled by goddess worship? Yeah, right.

Aah fooey...

To James Watson, for showing you can be very smart and also very stupid. To quote the Wired article I've linked to, Watson's incredibly arrogant and stupid comments on Africa, and Africans; supposed lack of intelligence is 'self-serving and dangerous. Why think about the legacy of colonialism or the contemporary role of western arms dealers -- why bother to help -- when you can explain away Africa's problems as unavoidable biological flaws?'. Read the articles linked at the end of the one I've linked to for a complete picture.


All right, hell yeah...

To Scott Lynch, whose second Gentleman Bastards novel, 'Red Seas Under Red Skies' is every bit as exciting, deviously plotted and vividly imagined as his debut, 'The Lies Of Locke Lamora'.

Aah, fooey...

To India for having the world's worst maternal mortality rate, according to this report. Seriously, fuckers, what's shining except the tears in a 100,000 motherless babies' eyes? Seems a mother can't get enough medical help in mother India. Bharath Matha Ki Jai?

Hell, Yeah!!!

To the Nobel comittee for awarding the UN IPCC and Al Gore this year's Peace Prize. How much longer are the fossil-fuel-fundamentalists going to keep up with their denial game?

Extra hell yeas to the Nobel comittee for this year's Literature Prize, awarded to Doris Lessing. Let's see, she wrote The Fifth Child, one of the most chilling books I ever read in a childhood marked by excessive deviations into Poe, King and a slew of horror anthologies, she detoured into science fiction without giving two figs for the resulting disdain from mainstream critics, and she wrote an astounding dystopian novel about gender issues, The Cleft, at the age of 87, when most people are dead, senile or some combination of the two. She rocks! (I've chosen this picture, taken more than 50 years back, because of the cat. We always have a hell yeah for the furry prowlers around these parts).

what is this what this is what of it all what I say what

I've been doing this waxing-all-webiloquent thing for a while now, and frankly, I was bored out of my skull with my old blog. So I tried migrating it to blogger beta and dressing it up with different doohickeys, but you know what, it was still mind-meltingly boring to do. Even I wasn't able to read my smug little upchuckings and stay awake anymore. All that verbiage is so TwenCen anyway. So now I'm going to keep things short and hasty, use lots of pictures and make one post a day. About a thing that makes me go 'Ah Fooey!' (because the world is a fuckall place and full of such things) and one thing that makes me go 'All Right, yeah!'. And that's that.