Petey and I went to Superbad last night, before it left Fort Bragg forever. We weren’t really that attached to seeing it on the big screen, but I was restless and wanted to get out of the house, and Baxt was otherwise occupied, so we decided to go and see a trashy movie.

We both ended up rather liking it. It was fun, and silly, and reminded me simultaneously of being in high school and of a fictional high school existence which never really happened. Yes, it is another teenybopper movie, but it has the potential to become a sort of high school classic, like Can’t Hardly Wait, The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. I’m curious to see if it will have the staying power past our generation to become an official classic, or if it’s going to fade from the radar in a few years, too badly dated to be entertaining.

For those of you not at all familiar with the movie, the basic concept is that it’s about two friends, about to graduate high school. The movie unfolds over a 24 hour period, and all sorts of madcap adventures take place while the two try to obtain alcohol for a party. There’s a strong hipster sense of the ’70s in the film, from the opening titles to some of the songs and outfits. But I dig it, they didn’t lay it on too heavy.

You’ve got the basic assortment of stupid teen movie characters including the nerd, the bombastic virgin who spouts off about sex, the extreme dork, and the requisite hot high school girls with a surprising intelligent side. Oh, there are also two awesome police officers, who totally steal the show in my opinion. And remind me of Supertroopers, another magnificent piece of modern cinema. No terribly surprisingly plot twists, of course, but there are some excellent and truly funny scenes. The lead actors also work well together, making their friendship seem very believable.

For those of you sensitive to that sort of thing, the film has enough f-bombs to remind me of a fucking David Mamet play. I don’t think anyone seriously fucking cusses that fucking much in real life. But maybe I’m wrong. Fuck. For those of you who don’t mind a little dialogue with their f-bombs, you might want to go check it out. It is getting an 87% on Rotten Tomatoes, so it can’t be all bad, right?

I also really enjoy the artwork which accompanies the film. I really think they should be selling prints, because I would totally buy a complete set.

Did you make fun of Miss South Carolina? Well, she’s biting back. Major props to her.

Twisted Monk is having a Labor Day Weekend sale—free shipping on everything and a few things, including exotics, are discounted. Hooray!

It’s naked farm girls! And sex ed. And it’s funny. Go watch the Midwest Teen Sex Show. Now.

In honor of Labor Day, a roundup of less than awesome jobs.

The realities of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.”

Support our troops by sending them food that doesn’t suck.

Gentle readers, I am in sore need of your antspertise. My house has been invaded, inundated, deluged, even, in ants. They. Are. Everywhere. It’s really rather disgusting to see the seething masses, and I’ve tried literally everything I can think of to combat them.

I really loathe insects. Writing this entry actually makes my skin crawl, causing bursts of itching to break out on various body parts. You’d think that since I live next to a virtual superfund site, ants would not be present, but you’d be wrong. Rumor on the street also has it that other residents of the Bragg-town are being similarly attacked, so maybe we need to band together or something.

Before I appeal for help, it may be of some assistance to know a few facts:

1. I am extremely clean, so you don’t need to tell me to wash my dishes and wipe down my counter. My levels of cleanliness have caused people to accuse me of obsessive compulsive disorder.

2. Most of my food is tightly packaged in glass or tupperware, especially goodies like sugar and candy.

3. I have cats and plants, so poison is not an option. In addition, my neighbor has tarantulas, so I want to avoid targeted insectides, since I would feel awful if I hurt his tarantulas. Since he’s pretty close, I am concerned that the ants could carry something over there.

4. The hippies among you can rest assured that yes, I did try animal communication, and no, it was not successful. For those of you who don’t know what that means, I paid a hippie to come to my house and “talk” to the ants, in an attempt to negotiate a truce.

So…knowing what you know…any suggestions for getting the ants out of my life?

Call time while you still can, because ATT is discontinuing the venerable service. This LA Times article does a great job of profiling it, and I know that I am not the only one who is sad to see time go.

The payscale at Project Vote Smart is raising some eyebrows. (Hat tip to my friend Ben in Missoula, who sent me the link.)

The Lede has a surprisingly emotional appeal to pet owners, asking “what about the pets not owned by Leona Helmsley?”

Karl Rove’s car is beautifully decorated by some loving pranksters. I would also like to point out that this prank was entirely non-violent and non-destructive, which makes it even more awesome.

A school in New York actually shocks children as a discipline technique, and it’s still open.

Violet Blue has some sex advice for her readers; 10 places not to have sex in San Francisco.

Our newspaper has discovered a newfangled thang called “YouTube.” There’s a riveting video of a shed fire; don’t miss it!

Speaking of Fort Bragg, the City council is getting into microlending, offering loans of up to $5,000 to help small business on Franklin Street get through the winter, since they got completely shafted by the construction all summer. Honestly, I don’t think that five grand will help in some cases, but it at least indicates that the City feels some measure of guilt for completely fucking over the downtown core with their pastiche monstrosity.

When talking with a friend from out of the area today, I was reminded of a common occurrence here on the coast: poaching.

No, I’m not talking about poaching of wildlife, although that certainly is an issue up here. I’m referring, in this particular instance, to the poaching of people. Now, I’m sure that poaching happens in lots of other places as well, but up here I think that it’s a very interesting phenomenon, and it is tied in with a lot of issues which are not present in other communities.

I still remember the first time I got poached. I was working behind the counter at one of my assorted jobs, and someone ambled in and bluntly asked how much I got paid. Naturally, I replied that this wasn’t really that person’s concern, and I offered my assistance with something else. The person pressed on, finally admitting that ou was representing another business who had noticed me at work and liked the way I operated. The other company, this person told me, would be willing to pay me 150% of my current wages, no matter what they were.

What did I do?

I took the job, of course.

Poaching here is particularly interesting, to me, because businesses poach from many parts of the labor pool. I’m accustomed to the idea of, say, big firms trying to entice employees from one another. But up, poaching happens to cooks, good retail clerks, and secretaries. Partly this is because all of these things are in demand around here, and of course there are no massive corporations to engage in poaching wars.

Poaching can really hurt small businesses who cannot afford to offer better wages, but genuinely love their employees. Fortunately, most bosses around here understand that money is a bottom line for a lot of people, and employees who get poached are usually wished good fortune in their future adventures, rather than being cursed to the skies. This changes, of course, when someone quits abruptly, engages in underhanded dealings, or sells company secrets. A lot of places which cannot afford the best wages try to offer other perks as incentives, in recognition that poaching does happen. Sometimes, the perks compensate for the less than ideal wage, as does the sense of belonging to a collective family. At other times…you get poached.

Poaching up here really illustrates, for me, the impact of our shadow economy. The amount of marijuana sales in Mendocino County can only be estimated, of course, but it is assumed to be formidable. And a lot of young people flash around a lot of cash and open small businesses. Often, the math just doesn’t add up when you look at overall intake stacked against payroll and other operating costs.

If one wants to make their fortune growing weed and then branch out, that’s all well and good. I don’t think that there’s anything inherently wrong with that. But it does put totally law-abiding business owners at a serious disadvantage, because they don’t have a supplemental and totally tax free income to sweeten rates of pay with. It’s even more apparent now, as the economy flails and the totally legitimate businesses struggle.

It’s also entertaining to me when I see pot-based businesses being praised for their success, because of their little green secret. Of course, without these businesses, a lot of folks would be in very bad shape, financially. Marijuana has probably saved a lot of people from poverty and miserable lives, which is why many people up here do not actually support legalization. With legalization would come financial disaster, and we all know it.

Interesting, isn’t it, how a little plant can lay a long and complicated path which ends with someone sidling into a business and wooing its employees away.

Well, fancy that. Three of the nation’s wealthiest cities are in California.

Universal offers DRM free music, and iTunes isn’t getting a cut of the action.

Gentrification is choking Polk Street to death. Along with the rest of society.

A drug free Burning Man is possible. Apparently some of the privileged are teetotalers. Who knew?

Why is the New Orleans coroner blocking organ donation?

Using the power of vegetables and herbs to help keep bacteria and microbes out of food? Awesome!

Doctors who officiate at executions in Florida conceal their identities with moon suits.

I was walking to the library today, thinking about the next stage in my war with the ants, when I spotted a hipster mama type moving rapidly in my direction, pushing a stroller ahead of her. This species of humanity does seem to be growing here, which is all well and good, but I was rather startled when I saw the shirt that she had put on her infant. It said “My Mommy is Pro-Choice.”

Now, as we know, I am hardly an arbiter of fashion and good taste, but I found that shirt rather tough to swallow, on a number of levels.

First, it disturbed me because I think that everyone needs to form their opinions independently, especially about big issues like abortion. By wearing a shirt like that, you are suggesting that you support the right to choose. I happen to be a big fan of the right to choose, but I do not think that an 18 month old child knows what the right to choose is. Therefore, it’s a bit distasteful to me to see an infant wearing a shirt like that. If someone who understands the issue wants to wear the shirt, that’s awesome, but I don’t think that people should be using infants as political billboards.

I found the shirt offensive because I do support the right to choose, in all aspects of your life. Infants cannot choose what clothes they wear, and I think that parents have a responsibility to dress their children in clothing which does not blare out political views. You want your shirt to wear a shirt with a dove on it? Fine. People can take that however they want. But please, don’t put your infant in a shirt that says “no war in Iraq.” You’re taking the child’s right to make up its own mind away, and that troubles me.

I feel the same way about causes I support and don’t support; I’ve made up my mind independently on these issues, and I support everyone else’s ability to do that as well. Whether or not I approve of the cause or opinion, I still think it’s wrong to force a child to wear a shirt which spouts off about it. Especially since that child cannot speak to defend the cause or itself, if challenged. It’s not just tasteless, it’s also potentially really dangerous.

This seems to be part of a greater trend of baby as fashion accessory which I have written about before. This trend really bothers me, a lot, because children are living breathing entities with their own consciousness, and parents who think of them as accessories ought to be quietly taken out back and shot. I may not like children, but I can acknowledge that they are other living organisms with feelings and thoughts, just like me. Just as I am troubled when I see young children waving Westboro Baptist Church propaganda around, it bothers me to see children wearing political gear, because I know that in both cases, the child didn’t choose the views that he or she is promoting.

Hey, I understand that kids have to wear something. I spent much of my babyhood naked or arrayed in an assortment of florid outfits that my father picked out for me when he could pin me down long enough to put clothes on me. However, my father stuck with basic patterns, not political propaganda. And as soon as I was old enough, my father let me dress myself with minimal guidance. Perhaps not always successfully, as evidenced by this note from my third grade teacher: “Please tell s.e. to wear underwear with skirts or to stop using the swings.”

Most of the parents I know pick out tasteful and sometimes cool things for their children. There’s a fine line, for me, between clothing which indulges the parent more than it protects the child from the elements, but parents need to decide that on an individual basis. And I am really pleased that most of my friends stick with silly hip clothing, like onesies that say “poop deck,” rather than shirts like “my daddy wants you to vote for Kucinich.”

I imagine that most of my readers would be rather infuriated if I forced them into shirts that said “George W. Bush is Awesome!” And I also imagine that some people might be really angry in retrospect if they knew that their parents had forced them to propagate political messages. It’s intriguing to me that a lot of liberal gear is designed for babies, whereas I don’t see nearly as much right wing propaganda for infants. Interesting that the big bad conservatives aren’t jumping at the opportunity to promote their causes with shirts like “I love warrantless wiretapping” and “environmentalism is terrorism” for the tween set.

I know that most of my friends hope that their children will grow up to share their political views. However, I believe that most of them want their children to arrive at these views because they think that they are right, not because that’s how mommy and daddy think. I would also like to think that if their children arrived at different conclusions, that they would still be supported. I pity the child who grows up being forced to wear clothing which advances the agenda of ou parents, because I think that child will ultimately grow up as a weak person, unable to form opinions and defend them.

John King asks that we please stop referring to giant buildings as “icons.” In his words: “But real icons aren’t designed to be icons; they win the title by happening to be in wondrous sync with what a city is all about, or where it’s headed.” Ho*.

Back in body, but sound in mind? Soldiers are returning from Iraq with serious PTSD.

Eco-friendly wines don’t have to taste nasty when they’re made well, and our options as consumers are increasing, a lot. Yippee!

A complex assisted suicide case in Arizona, where a mentally ill woman received some assistance with shuffling the mortal coil. My thoughts on this particular case are mixed, and I encourage you to read the article. Or even…talk about it in the comments?

Allegedly the poverty rate fell in 2006, while the ranks of the uninsured rose. I’m not really sure how, exactly, the poverty rate declined, and I would like to see some more analysis of the data used to arrive at this conclusion, because, in Sixth Sense terms, I see po’ folk.

Speaking of po’ folk, a lot of women have difficulty accessing needed prenatal care.

Harry Potter is also available in braille. Thanks to the efforts of committed fans, the National Braille Press has been able to keep costs comparable to the print editions. Pretty cool.

*The use of “ho” in the sense of “amen” or “I agree” was widespread at my hippie high school.

For those of you who aren’t aware, there’s going to be a lunar eclipse tonight. Well, actually, it’s more like tomorrow morning, but since I’m staying up to watch it, I’m calling it tonight. Here in the Pacific Time Zone, it will be starting around 1:30, and it’s supposed to be really bad ass around 3:00. I like me some lunar eclipse action, it feels a little bit like the world is ending. And I just so happen to be right next to a large amount of vacant land liberally bedecked with no trespassing signs, so tonight seems like a good night to check on the mill property from the other side of the fence.

So, what do dumplings have to do with the lunar eclipse? Well, I have these Gravenstein apples from Gowan’s, and I want to make something with them. It’s been getting a bit chilly at night, so it’s a good time to be baking, and I decided that I should make apple dumplings. Apple dumplings also happen to be one of my dessert specialties, and people seem to be rather fond of them.

Personally, I think it’s rather amusing that my apple dumplings are such a hit, since they are really easy to make, and require essentially no thought at all, unless you mistakenly believe that making pie dough is hard. But since people seem to be really into them, you, gentle readers, can carry the recipe on to all of your friends, awing them at social events and garnering proposals of marriage. The original recipe concept is courtesy of my awesome veterinarian Aunt, who is officially two years cancer free as of last week! Hooray! At any rate, here’s my recipe for apple dumplings.

Step One: Pie Dough

I like to make Julia Child’s pate brisee fine. I’m going to reprint it here, please don’t sue me, estate of Julia Child, because it’s an awesome recipe and I believe that it should be shouted from the rooftops.

Start by measuring out one and one half cups of flour. Oh, you can sift it, if you want, but it’s not that important, honestly.

Cut in 11 tablespoons of butter (or margarine if you’re vegan). Use a fork or a pastry knife to get the flour into little nubbins, but take care not to let it get melty.

Dissolve a pinch of salt and a dash of sugar in one third of a cup cold water, and add it to the flour/butter mixture all at once. Blend with a fork or spoon until you have a smooth, uniform dough, and then use the heel of your hand to smash it against the bowl several times, really mush it. Ball the dough up and chill it.

Step Two: Apples

Find some mighty fine apples, four of them. Peel and core them, splitting them in half. Stack the prepared apples next to a floured surface for rolling out the dough.

Line up eight small pats of butter, along with spices you might desire such as cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, etc. Fill a small dish with brown sugar, and get ready for step three.

Step Three: Dumplings

Cut the dough into eighths, and roll each section out so that it is roughly round. Pick up an apple half, cram the butter into it, and then sprinkle sugar and spices onto it. Center the apple on a round of dough, cut side down, and then fold the dough up around it. I like to make a pinwheel design, since it keeps things orderly.

Stick your completed dumpling on a cookie sheet, and make the rest. When they’re all done, bake at 350 degrees Fahrenheit (177 degrees Celsius) for around 20 minutes, or possibly longer. You want them golden and crispy.

If you can stand to wait, let them cool enough so that they won’t burn your tongue. Serve with ice cream, whipped cream, or plain.

Enjoy the lunar eclipse!

Some facts about the internet porn industry, presented in a rather…novel way. (This YouTube video is not safe for most workplaces.)

The care and feeding of introverts is a delicate task, and this article should be required reading for all extroverts. It’s several years old, but that doesn’t stop it from being totally awesome.

Alberto Gonzales resigns! I would be more excited if I thought that someone awesome was going to be appointed to replace him.

Labyrinth walking is a surprisingly powerful and amazing spiritual act. I wanted to put a labyrinth in my garden, but there wasn’t enough room. Instead, I read articles about it and visit labyrinths in other places.

Why do we assume that interventionist foreign policy should continue?

Calvin Godfrey tries to get a rise out of toll attendants, and does not succeed.