Why Palin is riding high on the waves of racism.

THERE IS NOT ENOUGH WIN IN THE WORLD FOR THIS: White Privilege.

Although, you know, I'm not sure I can agree with everything he says. I mean, being a POW does count for a lot, especially when the country is facing a war situation. It means a lot when you can relate directly with soldiers in the line of fire, and you are going to be in command of the one of the most powerful defence forces in the world. And Pastor Wright's remarks were a lot more inflammatory than what the author makes it out to be. 

But it still sort of pwns all. XD

I Have Issues. I Know. Don't Ask.

Here's something Interesting:  The 26 Most Disturbing Kid Movies Ever. 

I don't know about the rest but GODDAMN IT, I've spent seventeen years suppressing my memories of Watership Down and now this thing has to go and dreg it all up again. MY INNER CHILD IS GOING TO HAVE NIGHTMARES TONIGHT, I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY. 

Seriously, that movie scared seven kinds of hell out of me when I was a kid. I watched it when I was about four and didn't have enough grasp of English to quite follow the plot, but there was shooting and frothing dogs and thunder and lightning and goddamn is those weren't the scariest fucking bunnies I'd ever seen. It scarred me for life. The sheer trauma made me grow up regarding rabbits with great suspicion. I had nightmares of being chased by a psychotic Bugs Bunny till I was ten. 

Weirdly though, I didn't remember the soundtrack "Bright Eyes" at all until Stephen Gately's version came out when I was in my early teens. And then I fell in love with both versions of the song. I thought it was sweet and mellow and romantic, until some wise ass informed me that it was the soundtrack to the Scary Bunny Movie. It was then that I made the connection.

"Bright eyes, burning like fire...." 

The song I had pegged as a bittersweet melody about a dearly beloved being lovingly remembered against the backdrop of a romantic sunset, was actually about the glowing orbs of rabid psycho bunnies that had plagued my childhood. 

My life is such a farce sometimes. 

Speaking of cartoons, I have a confession to make. Everytime I watched Loony Tunes, I cheered on Sylvester Cat. Everyday I would tune in with the vain hope that maybe today the gods would relent and Sylvester would finally be able to out-smart that goddamn irritating bird and snack its puny yellow ass (Shut up, I was seven). Sylvester wasn't a bad cat, he was just underfed by his cruel owners and what person with a beating heart could blame him for wanting to eat that smug little featherbrain who kept braining him with things? I grew very disillusioned when this didn't happen. Years later, I still went out of my way to punch Tweetie Bird in the face whenever we passed the soft toy aisle of the toy store. Die you goddamn bird, die! 

And before you ask, you don't even want to know what I wanted to do to that fucking Road Runner. 

ETA: Can anyone tell me why The Song of The South is said to be racist? I don't get it.