Last night I was mindin’ muh business, perusing Facebook, when an update appeared from my friend Rev. Random. The Rev usually has something interesting, insightful, or hilarious to say, so my natural inclination was to click the link.  I did, and that’s when all reason left me and I was unable to function or form words for the next several minutes.   What she linked to was this: A story about a Louisiana Justice of the Peace who refused to marry an interracial couple. After reading the first few sentences I twitched, I spasmed, I twitched again and grunted, then finally I let out a stream of expletives that only stopped when my brain shut down in either self-defense, or what might be the first documented case of Tourette’s Overload.

Note: I know many of my friends are in interracial relationships, or as I like to call them, relationships, so you might want to tape your head before reading.

In the article, Justice of the Peace Keith Bardwell states, “he refused to issue a marriage license to an interracial couple out of concern for any children the couple might have. ” and that “it is his experience that most interracial marriages do not last long.”

That’s where I started twitching, but it wasn’t until after I tried to wrap my mind around his declaration that he wasn’t a racist that my brain broke. He said:

“I’m not a racist. I just don’t believe in mixing the races that way,” Bardwell told the Associated Press on Thursday. “I have piles and piles of black friends. They come to my home, I marry them, they use my bathroom. I treat them just like everyone else.”

Recipe for cerebral hemorrhage : 1 part confusion, 1 part slack jawed awe at the absurdity, 2 parts anger, stir.

First of all, what the Jim Crow does he think racism is?  Had I just been transported back to 1950 when it was progressive to let black folk use whitey’s facilities? If so, why aren’t my boobs pointy?  Secondly, really, “piles of black friends”? Piles? Are they dead and piled in your basement?  Were they actually once white but turned black as they started to decay? And what the hell? Was he proud that he lets his black friends use his bathroom because he thinks you can catch black from a toilet seat? Does he actually live in the 18th century where he’s mistaking the smiling, singing, dark skinned people working his fields as friends?  “They’re singing, so they must like me!” Ahhhhh!!!!!!! *POOF*

I admit, I find his logic and defense of it so absurd it is actually funny, but the reality and repercussions of his act are anything but funny.  There may be some truth in what he says, but it’s only true because it’s a self-fulfilling truth.  It’s not always easy being in an interracial relationship, but it’s not the interracial relationship that’s the problem. The entirety of  the problem is other people thinking there’s something wrong with it! So as long as people like him take that stance it won’t be easy.

I could freak out about this for days, but instead I’ll just say, I hope he gets run over by the giant ball of racist crap he’s rolled up his non-existent slippery slope.

By "tap" they mean "that ass." AMIRITE?

UPDATE ALERT: See the full article for the addendum.

Are you an awkward young male who is pathetically dependent on corporate driven pop culture for advice on how to achieve social success?  Then Pepsi has the iPhone app for you! In order to promote their AMP energy drink, Pepsi recently released an iPhone application called “AMP Up Before You Score.”  In essence, it’s an encapsulated version of the Jack Jericho character in The Pick-Up Artist (sans inevitable change of ways and subsequent emotional and moral redemption), replete with electronic bedpost notching capabilities and handy directions to the nearest bed–an electronic idiot’s guide to scumbaggery.

The gist of the functionality of the app is this: You “identify her stereotype” from a handy list, and the app returns a profile of that type.  The profile is basically a quick study guide to that type’s interests, along with links to more info and a list of lines that might work on her.

Yeah…

One has to assume Pepsi either doesn’t know women drink its products (doubtful), or lacks even a modicum of giving-a-shit-that-women-do (more probable), because there are so many offensive elements to this app that it’s difficult to know where to begin. In order to keep this diatribe from becoming a missive to be nailed on the doors of Pepsi HQ during the Great Soft Drink Reformation the cola corp is surely precipitating, here’s a quick rundown of the most repugnant facets:

1. It breaks down women into 24 convenient types. Irony fueled favorite: “Out-Of-Your-League Girl,” because face it, guys.  If you’re using a Pepsi iPhone app to help you pick up women, women are just generally out of your league. Note: These 24 types are allegedly men’s “favorite types of women,” so if you look at the list and don’t see yourself in any of the types, you’re probably hopelessly unattractive and should sign up for a foreign exchange program or buy a yourself a sorority sweatshirt and pretend, pronto. Also, if you are male and look at the list and don’t find any of those types appealing, you’re probably gay.

2. The aforementioned bedpost notchery.  That was real, I shit you not.  It allows you to store lists of conquests, because, you know, you’re going to be so deep in pussy you’re going to need a way to keep track.

3.  A brag function that allows you to tweet or update your newly laid status on Facebook, after all, what good is a notch in your bedpost if you can’t broadcast it to all and sundry?

4. That it exists. Really, that’s the most offensive part of all.

So, welcome to the Thundersquee! shit list, Pepsi.  Can one strangle a corporation with their fallopian tubes?

UPDATE: Pepsi issued an apology, and by that I mean, they tweeted a half-ass defense of their actions.

After people took to twitter in droves and started mercilessly bashing Pepsi (search #pepsifail), Pepsi tweeted the following: “Our app tried 2 show the humorous lengths guys go 2 pick up women. We apologise if it’s in bad taste & appreciate your feedback. #pepsifail.”

Really? That’s a whole lot of typing just to say “JOKE,” and the only apology I see is one that firmly places the blame on the people with the complaint.  My interpretation of the alleged apology was,  “We’re sorry you if you don’t get it.”  They’re also not withdrawing the app, presumably because it’s just too damn funny to give up.

Pepsi, my assessment still stands, and you’ve moved up a two notches on the shit list–one place for your “blame the victim” style apology, and another for substituting the number “2″ for the word “to.”

Thanks, Run-DMS!

Madoff attempts to answer the question "How much do you suck?" before realizing he doesn't have the arms for it.

He’s going to prison, the big house, the pokey, the pen, the can, jail, up the river, the hoosegow! Applause broke out in the crowded Manhattan courtroom after U.S. District Judge Denny Chin issued the maximum sentence to Bernard Madoff, thief of billions and fleecer of masses.  Madoff was sentenced to 150 years in prison today after pleading guilty in March to securities fraud, mail fraud, wire fraud, investment adviser fraud, three counts of money laundering, false statements, perjury, false filings with the SEC and theft from an employee benefit plan–the  haul from which totaled an estimated $65 billion dollars and harmed or destroyed the lives of at least 8,000 people (there are an estimated additional 1,300 victims who have yet to be identified).

For those thinking this seems like a harsh penalty for a white collar crime, consider this.  That’s a mere 1 year per each $433,333,333 stolen and 53.33 people swindled. Furthermore,  at least 2 suicides and one fatal heart attack have been attributed to his acts.  The widow of the man who died of a heart attack wrote the judge, asking for a fitting sentence.  That letter exemplifies the type of man Madoff is.

It told the story of a Madoff investor who had died of a heart attack. Madoff, presumably at the man’s funeral, put his arm around the the widow and said, “Your money is safe.” The widow then gave Madoff more money, all of which is gone.

She was not alone in writing the judge to ask for a stiff sentence; many of his 8,000 victims wanted to testify against him during the pre-sentencing hearing, but they had to select a handful. Tellingly, absolutely no one–not friends nor family–spoke on his behalf or asked for leniency. The only person to ask for leniency was his lawyer, who asked for a laughable 12 year sentence.

When issuing the sentence, Judge Chin stated:

“Here the message must be sent that Mr. Madoff’s crimes were extraordinarily evil and that this kind of manipulation of the system is not just a bloodless crime that takes place on paper, but one instead that takes a staggering toll.”

Madoff and his wife have been forced to forfeit $171 billion in assets, and hopefully some of his victims will see repayment.

These weather patterns are becoming increasingly worrisome.

Senate Budget Chairman Kent Conrad (D-ND) debated budget policy with committee member Sen. Chuck Grassley (R-I) during yesterday’s Senate Budget Committee meeting. Most politicians have mastered the art of formal debate, but while Sen. Conrad seemingly stuck to formal arguments, Sen. Grassley proved he’s the master of informal fallacy…and possibly acquired his debate skills on the internets [sic]. We’ll let you decide to whom the “Fail” applies.