Yes, my darlings, I know.
“But Dana, you said you were working on a post with actual substance. All we’re getting is quotes from better bloggers. What the fuck!?”
That’s because I had to work today, and Aunty Flow’s walking up the street with her hideous floral suitcase in hand, getting ready to make me wish I could give myself a home hysterectomy with a poorly sharpened spoon because it would hurt less than this curse, and I’m dog-fucking tired, right? Soon, loves, soon, there will be all sorts of deliciousness. I’m working on a piece that explores the contrast in intellect between McCain and Obama that will… but I’ll let you anticipate.
And speaking of Aunty Flow’s imminent arrival, have I ever got the post for that. We ladies will howl with laughter, and then have to spend a solid day explaining why it’s so funny to you lucky fuckers who don’t possess a uterus.
I’m also working on a post that should have you exclaiming, “Ah, it’s all clear to me now!” when you wonder just how the fuck creationists, neo-theo-cons, and other assorted clueless hypocrites can be so fucking dense in the face of evidence that would bury Olympus Mons. You will read it, nod sagely, and then go right back to wondering how the fuck these people can be so stupid, because even with an explanation backed by solid science, it’s still mystifying to those of us who can actually think.
Speaking of thinking, did you know that PZ Myers once said “I don’t think creationists are stupid. I wish people would not attribute that to me, because I simply don’t believe it. In fact, most of the active creationists are pretty darn smart”? I didn’t know that until Greg Laden pointed it up.
This is a banner day, my darlings: PZ and I don’t agree on something. I agree that they could be smart, that they often have wonderful native intelligence, but dear glod they do such stupid things. I guess there’s a difference between street smarts, book smarts, and Bible-is-literally-true!!1!11! smarts.
Further posts in progress are myriad: I’ll have a piece on why religion would be better as stories (told you we’d get to talking about storytelling one day), a blistering diatribe against Mukasey the Assmonkey, a humorous series on Why I Became an Atheist (hint: wasn’t science that done it), and further disagreements with PZ – I have a little more tolerance for religious folk than he does, but only just, and my patience is wearing thin, so that one may come to nothing.
I also picked up two books at the grocery store (?!) tonight: one on Alexander Hamilton, and another called Our Endangered Values by Jimmy Carter, so I’ll probably have bits on those. And then there’s James Burke’s The Day the Universe Changed, which I’m in the midst of and keep finding ideas in that I want to explore, and, and, and mommy.
You know what? I’m going to have to start hawking religious kitsch at screenings of Expelled! so I can quit my job, because fuck if I know how I’ll find the time to keep up with the stupid, write insightful treatises, read books, write my own book, feed myself and occasionally sleep if I have to keep working for a living.