From John Scalzi:

Honestly, I no longer know what to make of John McCain anymore. A man who has readily admitted he doesn’t know much about the economy makes a big show of bringing his presidential campaign to a grinding halt to rush to Washington to fix it, which seems a bit like a NASA auto pool mechanic declaring to all and sundry that he’s going to stopped making oil changes to rush to Florida to consult on the Shuttle.
[...]
he also suggests we cancel (or, “delay”) the presidential debate on Friday, and maybe the VP debate next week. You know, just to be sure we’re all focused on the economy, instead of, frivolous things, such as the fact that John McCain apparently hasn’t had a useful thought about the national economy since he married a heiress, and that Sarah Palin can’t be trusted to extemporize [...] without appearing like she’s [shoving her hockey-mom pumps down her throat].

Link to Scalzi's full post

And via yesthatthom, some Youtube videos of Letterman catching McCain in one WHOPPER of a lie. "Could McCain be so out of touch that he didn't realize that Couric, also on CBS, would be interviewing him in the very same building?"

Short versions, long versions, all funny-as-hell versions (when did Letterman switch over from the nutty younger late-night guy in a sweater to the Johnny Carson of our generation?). Watch them all here: http://yesthattom.livejournal.com/879499.html

On a more religious note, I can't get the Family Research Council (a.k.a. family fearmongers' council) to take me off their damn spam list. What began as keeping track of what the other side was up to has turned into a daily dose of hate in my inbox. Faithful America is a nice antidote -- a PAC that reclaims religious values from the far right.

I got fed up enough to send a strongly worded response to a particularly egregious email full of lies and half-truths. I'm sure it's falling on deaf ears over in Tony's inbox, though. Maybe it will amuse you, dear Intarwebs.

From a personal appeal for dough from Tony Perkins, President of this "Christian" organization:

I want you to hear something a California pastor said to me recently:

"If we lose, we go to jail."

It's just that simple, says Pastor Jim Garlow--if marriage loses in California, religious liberties everywhere will be next. [Funny thing, that: here in Sodom Massachusetts, religious liberties seem to be alive and well for Christians, Muslims, Jews, pagans, and others alike, gays can get married, and marriage as we know it is still intact.]

The fight for marriage in the states is our first priority.

But we can't take our eye off Washington, D.C. politicians. Your support is vital as we stand up to liberals who want to criminalize your religious speech . . . threaten the religious liberties of employers . . . silence conservative and Christian broadcasting . . . raise taxes . . . and impose taxpayer funding of abortion and embryonic stem cell research.

And my response:

Tony, this is an incredibly offensive letter. Christians have never
been sent to jail in this country for practicing the teachings of
Christ. Untold numbers of homosexuals, though, have been rounded up by
police, beaten, raped, and returned to the street without charges ever
being placed. Recognizing a loving, stable union between two people is
not an affront to marriage. Preaching hatred and intolerance is,
however, an affront to Christ's teachings. Shame on you, and shame on
your organization. Turn off your computer and read your bible.

If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have
love, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.
If I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all
knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do
not have love, I am nothing.
And if I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I
surrender my body to be burned, but do not have love, it profits me
nothing.

1 CORINTHIANS 13:1–3 (NASB)

Dear Guy in the Red SUV:

I feel like there was some slippage of communication during our encounter last night. I'm sure the fact that we passed each other at such high speeds had something to do with it. When I sped by your window on my bicycle and you heard me say "Asshole," what I really meant to say was, "By stopping your car in the middle of traffic on Massachusetts Avenue so that your friend could run in to the Walgreens to make a purchase, you disrupted traffic patterns, causing the 77 Bus to stop in the middle of the street and forcing me to slow down. I also had to move far into the middle of traffic to go around your vehicle on a heavily traveled street, thereby putting myself at risk of being hit by a car. Furthermore, it interrupted what had been, up until then, a very pleasant ride on what can sometimes be an unpleasant route."

When you passed me a couple of minutes later and I heard your passenger say "Ride on the sidewalk, lard ass," I think what you really meant to say was "Hey, you really hurt my feelings by calling me an asshole. You don't know anything about me as a human being, and furthermore, you had some alternate routes to choose from. For instance, you could have ridden on the sidewalk instead of on the road. Plus, you have a big ass and I am therefore better than you."

There are a couple of logical fallacies in your statement.

Bicycles in general belong on the street rather than on the sidewalk. In many local business districts (and it's questionable whether East Arlington would be considered a business district), it is in fact illegal to ride a bicycle on the sidewalk. Furthermore, I have the right to ride my bicycle on any public road or street, except for highways like I93. For more about the rights of bicyclists in Massachusetts, I refer you to this page.

It is true that I could have chosen to ride on the Arlington bike path instead of down Massachusetts Avenue. I find, however, that for safety reasons it is better to ride on Massachusetts Avenue around twilight and after dark; the bike path can sometimes be dangerous after dark, and since my front headlight is not particularly high-powered, I get better visibility on the road.

Regarding the size of my ass, it is rather large and will probably remain so no matter how often I ride my bike. Part of that is due to the sedentary lifestyle I have led up until fairly recently, when I purchased a bicycle and started using it--instead of a car--to move around from place to place. I find it ironic that you chose to call me a lard-ass from the window of your gas-guzzling SUV. I wonder how much time your own ass spends on the cushions of your car as you drive around from place to place, double-parking conveniently in front of stores so that you don't have to walk the extra steps from the designated parking areas.

I encourage you to explore some alternative routes of transportation yourself, and perhaps to consider the impact that use of your SUV is having on your own pocketbook and the environment as a whole. As for myself, I will attempt to communicate more effectively with drivers and other bicyclists, since we all have to share the road and live together in peace.

Sincerely,

The Lard-Ass on the Bicycle

Dear Verizon:

You are not my favorite person right now. I use the word "person" because corporations have been legally defined as pseudo-people so that the actual people who make decisions and whatnot cannot be held liable when they do things like squander people's life savings, inadvertantly cause the deaths of test subjects, or otherwise do MAJORLY BAD THINGS. Unless, of course, they're the senior executives of Enron. That was an exception.

You and I have a relationship that goes way back. I remember when you were a wee thing, flashing your self-congratulatory little "V for Verizon, not victory or peace" sign all around the nation. I remember when I first signed up for your crappy DSL service in Brookline, and I remember why I switched to cable modem service with Comcast after being unable to log in for FIVE MONTHS.

So why did I decide to go with DSL service instead of Comcast when I moved to Whiteytown in April? Maybe it was because I didn't want to pay Comcast $60-$100 a month anymore so that I could waste endless hours a day flipping channels between burger commercials. And surely, the fact that I haven't cancelled the voice mail and long-distance service I never use since then is my fault. Right? Except that YOU MAKE IT IMPOSSIBLE TO DO SO! Let's see... I could call you on the phone and speak to one of your minions about it. But first I'd have to wait for about 20 minutes, and then, when I finally do speak to one of your minions, it'll be his or her job to convince me that I really want to spend $40 on a long-distance package I never use, so that with DSL service I'm paying you $60-$70 a month. (That's a $30 a month savings over Comcast!).

While I'm waiting on the phone, your prerecorded hold messages tell me that my time is important to me, which is why you're making me wait on hold for 20 minutes. Then you tell me that I can access my own damn account information online at Verizon.com. So this time, I figured I would go online myself and cancel the services I'm not using.

But guess what? When I went to the "Add/Change Services" tab in my account (notice that wording: it doesn't actually say anything about REMOVING services.), I tried downgrading. But none of the options listed cost less than $35.00 a month. Oh, wait. There's a local calling package only. But there's no options listed under it!

So I clicked another little link that was halfway hidden behind some subliminal messages that read "Verizon is good for your health. Give Verizon all your money and flash the V sign the next time you see someone talking on a cell phone."

On the next page, I clicked Submit without selecting ANY of the long-distance packages. But I got an error message telling that I HAD to select a long-distance package.

In the words of ZeFrank, whaaaaa?

So I figured I would just contact Customer Service via your website. I clicked "Contact Customer Service." Then I clicked the "Email Customer Service" link and filled out the goddamn little form. And spent another 10 minutes writing an email explaining exactly what it was that I DID and DIDN'T want to include on my account.

I clicked submit. And then I got this message:

"Ooops! There's been an error! Your email was not sent. Please try our Online Help section. Or call Customer Service"

Total time elapsed: 20-30 minutes.

Assholes!

In which Our Fair Heroine encounters the impenetrable wall of corporate customer service and hammers ineffectually against it with her keyboard.


( Read the interchange and laaaaaauuuuuuugh. )

Dear REI:

While your store service, your prices, and your equipment are all superb, I must tell you that your website is one of the most unwieldy, confusing, labyrinthine places I have ever had the misfortune to visit.

With 10 years of experience in the business of web development, new media, and user interface, I say this not just as a "dumb user," but as a fairly sophisticated, savvy user who will try to work around an interface that is less than perfect. I simply cannot find what I need on your site! And that is a shame, because I know that your website offers access to more inventory than any one store can claim.

I recently ordered something online. But rather than go home and order it myself from your site, I asked a clerk in your Fenway Boston store to place the order for me, because I had no confidence that I would be able to find the item I needed or complete the transaction.

In the name of all things outdoor, crunchy, rugged, good, and gracious, I beg of you to invest the $20-$50K it takes make your site workable and user-friendly. I guarantee you'll see a massive return on your investment.

Sincerely,

XXX XXX
REI member

Dear Zappos.com:

You are truly evil. You are the work of the deveel, come to taunt me and cut down on my productivity with your pretty pretty pictures of shoes that I cannot afford. Please stop it. Or at least send me notice of only five shoes at a time. I am weak and cannot escape the multiple pages of footwear you direct me to.

Oh, ShoeLiftia, patron Goddess of Shoe Shoppers, I am in need of your protection! Please remove my craving for really cute retro tweed-covered pumps with a nice square heel, no more than 2.5" high, and a rounded toe. And for a replacement for those awesome La Canadienne knee-high boots in brown pleather with the stretchy uppers I so stupidly discarded last year when the heels were getting detached instead of just sending them in for repairs.

And let me get back to work. And effortless accessorising.

Yours sincerely,

etc.

Dear DSW Shoe Warehouse:

How much you promise and how badly you deliver! You promise all kinds of designer shoes at deep discounts, and whenever I make a foray over to your hallowed halls, all I find is crap, crap, crap! Your deep discounts are doo doo. Your shoes are instruments of torture. They are tacky and disgusting. They are the rejects that the reputable shoe stores wouldn't be caught dead carrying.

I go in there looking for a sensible open-toed slingback sandal with a nice wide strap around the toe, and a low, modest heel that's blocky so it won't break my ankles. You know, something I can wear to the office without comment. And what do I come out with? WHORE SHOES, THAT'S WHAT!!! Clogs with big snowflakes embroidered on the front! Three-inch heels with no ankle support whatever, and velvet and rhinestones! Sexy little orange slip-ons with o-rings that make my feet look completely nude and those ridiculous heels that make me wobble so attractively one-quarter of an inch off the ground, the kind with the teeny tiny little bump right at the base of my instep.

Damn you, DSW Shoe Warehouse! Damn you, and your promise of sensible shoes at sensible prices!