Now Playing Tracks

I bet you can tell I’m a woman,” she said, “and I suspect the rest of the world can, too.”

She said she was all too aware that if she was selected, she would represent several hundred male athletes in the NBA; she would deal with league officials and agents who were nearly all men; she would negotiate with team owners who were almost all men; and she would stand before reporters who were predominantly men.

She did not flinch. “My past,” she told the room, “is littered with the bones of men who were foolish enough to think I was someone they could sleep on.

Michele Roberts, the new head of the NBA Player’s Union  (via trustintokarski)

(Source: mdz1971)

Even at age twelve I could tell that Jimmy Carter was an honest man trying to address complicated issues and Ronald Reagan was a brilcreemed salesman telling people what they wanted to hear. I secretly wept on the stairs the night he was elected President, because I understood that the kind of shitheads I had to listen to in the cafeteria grew up to become voters, and won. I spent the eight years he was in office living in one of those science-fiction movies where everyone is taken over by aliens—I was appalled by how stupid and mean-spirited and repulsive the world was becoming while everyone else in America seemed to agree that things were finally exactly as they should be. The Washington Press corps was so enamored of his down-to-earth charm that they never checked his facts, but if you watched his face when it was at rest, when he wasn’t performing for anyone, you could see him for what he really was—a black-eyed, slit-mouthed, lizard-faced old son-of-a-bitch. He was a bad actor, an informer for McCarthy, and a hired front man for a gang of Texas oilmen, fundamentalist dingbats, and right-wing psychotics out of Dr. Strangelove. He put a genial face on chauvanism, callousness, and greed, and made people feel good about being bigots again. He likened Central American death squads to our founding fathers and called the Taliban “freedom fighters.” His legacy includes the dismantling of Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal, the final dirty win of Management over Labor, the outsourcing of America’s manufacturing base, the embezzlement of almost all the country’s wealth by 1% of its citizens, the scapegoating of the poor and black, the War on Drugs, the eviction of schizophrenics into the streets, AIDS, acid rain, Iran-Contra, and, let’s not forget, the corpses of two hundred forty United States Marines. He moved the center of political discourse in this country to somewhere in between Richard Nixon and Augusto Pinochet. He believed in astrology and Armageddon and didn’t know the difference between history and movies; his stories were lies and his jokes were scripted. He was the triumph of image over truth, paving the way for even more vapid spokesmodels like George W. Bush. He was, as everyone agrees, exactly what he appeared to be—nothing. He made me ashamed to be an American. If there was any justice in this world his Presidential Library would contain nothing but boys’ adventure books and bad cowboy movies, and the only things named after him would be shopping malls and Potter’s Fields. Let the earth where he is buried be seeded with salt.
The Pain (via azspot)

'I Will Personally Pay For Every Member Of The Westboro Baptist Church To Fly To Iraq Right Now'

satumitsumi:

nergal-junior:

(To Westboro Baptist Church)

"If you really believe in standing up to those threatening the Christian way of life," Hills said on his UK television program "The Last Leg," "how about putting your money where your mouth is, taking a direct flight to Iraq and picketing the people threatening to behead Christians if they don’t convert?"

Hills then took his suggestion a step further by making a generous offer. “I will personally pay for every member of the Westboro Baptist Church to fly to Iraq right now. I’ll even fly you first class and pay the carbon offset.”

GUYS

THEY ACCEPTED

image

(Source)

image

image

shuckl:

starrysleeper:

get-off-your-arse-its-begun:

geekishchic:

volouminous:

You can be mature and respectful and still have a dirty sense of humour.

 You can curse a lot and still be highly intelligent with a massive vocabulary.

You can be quiet and reserved and still be witty and even outgoing in certain circles.

You can be intelligent and sharp-minded and still forget what month it is

you can dance if you wanna, you can leave your friends behind

We make Tumblr themes