The Long War: Laurie Lee and Alan Rickman

Here is everyone’s favorite velvet-throated thespian Alan Rickman, reading Laurie Lee’s poem The Long War for Peace Day, which was, apparently, September 21st. I wish they’d tell me these things ahead of time.

The Long War is a title which has been applied to any number of seemingly-endless conflicts, most recently used by the Bush administration to describe their “War on Terror” which has been the excuse for the continuing encroachments on civil liberties both within the US and around the world.

From The Long War by William S. Lind:

Long wars are usually strategic disasters for winners as well as losers, because they leave all parties exhausted. If they work to anyone’s advantage, it tends to be the weaker party’s, because its alternative is rapid defeat. The Rumsfeld Pentagon certainly does not see the United States as the weaker party in its “Global War on Terrorism.” So why has it adopted a long war strategy, or more accurately lack of strategy, unless one sees national exhaustion as a plus?

The answer is a common strategic blunder, but again one that is seldom seen up front; it normally arises as a war continues longer and proves more difficult than expected. The blunder is maximalist objectives. In a speech announcing the QDR, Secretary Rumsfeld said, speaking of our Fourth Generation opponents,

“Compelled by a militant ideology that celebrates murder and suicide, with no territory to defend, with little to lose, they will either succeed in changing our way of life or we will succeed in changing theirs.”

Guess which one won.

The Long War
by Laurie Lee

Less passionate the long war throws
its burning thorn about all men,
caught in one grief, we share one wound,
and cry one dialect of pain.

We have forgot who fired the house
Whose easy mischief spilled first blood
Under one raging roof we lie
The fault no longer understood
But as our twisted arms embrace the desert where our cities stood
Death’s family likeness in each face must show at last our brotherhood.

The Definitive Act of the Twenty-First Century

For Realz.

And that is: notquoting Tionna Smalls.” Although that’s a close runner-up. No; no indeed, the definitive act of the Twenty-First Century is, naturally, something that first surfaced on YouTube. Because you, the reader, are so finely attuned to nuance and Zeitgeist and other foreign-sounding words, you are reading it here before it registers on the consciousness of the tastemakers at Gawker Media, the Times, or CBC. Ahead of the curve, in front of the pack, on the top of the heap, and (perhaps?) good for loaning me twenty bucks till the end of the month?

Yes, that is the raincoaster blog devotee!

And just for you we present the following video, another Brian Atene monologue, but this one may be somewhat familiar in parts, if you’ve survived high school English. I had all of the great “To be or not to be” speech memorized by the time I was ten because it was on the cover of my best friend’s mother’s cookie tin and it would always take her ten or fifteen minutes to talk her mom into letting us get at the Peek Freans, so I had plenty of time to go over the lines. I used to recite them to her poodle when I was pet-sitting, just to discombobulate it.

It was a nasty little dog, and I’m a bitch. What can I say?

So here it is, the video containing the plan for the definitive act of the twenty-first century. And what might that act be, you wonder? Well, I’ll tell you. But I’ll tell you over the jump, because I’m like that.

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Continue reading

over Steve Jobs’ dead body

Steve Jobs’ Grave. iDied.

Note: Belkin dock

UPDATE; if you got here after October 4th, 2011, you want to look at this post too. It’s my tribute to Steve.

Sex and Death for St. Patrick’s Day

Michael Hutter’s painting on sex and death

How Irish. It was either post about sex and deathor go read some James Joyce, and who can handle that sober, eh? I ask yez.

In news sure to warm the rapidly-cooling cockles of convenience-minded necrophiliacs and suicidal sex addicts alike, the Swiss self-offing rights group Dignitas has opened a sort of members-only Hotel California(you can check out, but you have to leave in a box via the freight elevator) next door to a brothel.

From the Guardian:

Dignitas had launched a mobile service after being forced to leave its Zurich flat. It admitted last November that it had dispatched four people – including two in public car parks in Swiss beauty spots.

The country’s law insists that agencies that help arrange assisted deaths do it for ‘honourable reasons’ and do not profit from death, apart from charging basic fees. Dignitas claims that the cost of organising suicides is £5,000.

Karl Rütsche, a spokesman for Schwerzenbach council, said it was not happy when it heard Dignitas had settled in its community but was powerless to act. ‘Of course, as a council we tried to stop them moving here and we fought the Dignitas decision tooth and nail. We didn’t want the country’s biggest sex club and largest death factory side-by-side on our doorstep.’ He added: ‘Having lost the battle to keep them away at least we can say that – on a positive note – everyone now knows where Schwerzenbach is.”

True, dat. Too bad they won’t exactly become regular visitors. In related Irresistible Metaphor News, both the cat house and the death house are in the soul-killing confines of an industrial park. And Dignitas lost its earlier location because of some kerfuffle about corpses in the elevators. How undignified!

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Zombie Luv

Zombie Luv

Awww, now that is cute.

Dead cute.

via Mistress Cowfish

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