People who are anti-beard hate America

Dear HuffPo: Not okay.

My Boyfriend Is a Gnome! Except Taller!

Jezebizzle (I wrote that 'cause I'm drunk) wrote about the fucking awesome phenomena of the Metrognome. My BF, Thrift Store Champion, has an increasingly awesome beard. We will probably break up if he ever shaves.

With my joke-from-my-mom-lawn-gnome, Chomksy.

Chester A. Arthur: Possibly Secretly Canadian-Born President of Civil Service Reform

Young Chet sure was dreamy.

Chester A. Arthur was a man who not only possessed the ability to grow magically awesome hair on his face, but was able to rise above the spoils system that brought him to power and left his one term in office a beloved figure.* He was born in 1829 (or 1830) in Vermont (or maybe Quebec) to an Irish-born preacher and his Vermontian wife. He grew up in New York state and went to Union College where he partook in that great patriarchal tradition of college fraternity membership (Psi Upsilon). He got a master's degree in something and then spent some time as a school principal. But, of course, since he wanted to go into politics, he decided to study law. He passed the bar and began practicing in New York City. During the Civil War, he did some stuff like quartermastering in the army or something and he was promoted a few times before finishing his military stint in 1862. At some point Chet (as his friends and family called him) fell in with Roscoe Conkling, a finely-bearded man and Republican operative. Old Roscoe got him an in with President U.S. Grant, who appointed Arthur to the position of Collector of Customs for the Port of New York. Apparently there was a lot of money in this job, but the future prez was far less corrupt than most of his predecessors had been. After Rutherford B. Hayes came to office in the late 1870s, he threw Arthur out of the Customs House and replaced him with one of his own guys. Arthur went back to practicing law while his pal Roscoe worked on getting Grant nominated to run for a third term. Well, shenanigans at the 1880 RNC ensued and James "Dark Horse" Garfield was nominated instead. Garfield's people wanted a Stalwart (someone from the pro-spoils faction) for VP, and Arthur was enthusiastic about being their second choice. A close election eked Garfield and Arthur into the White House in 1881, though apparently they were not friends. Roscoe kept calling Chet and being like, "Hey, when can we get our pals new government jobs, yo?" And Garfield was like, "STFU, asshole." But then in July some guy shot Garfield and claimed he had done it in the name of patronage and to make Arthur President. Chet really kind of felt bad about this, since the guy was crazy and had nothing to do with him. So once Garfield finally died of complications from his wounds, Arthur defied the Stalwarts (and the rest of his party for that matter) by pushing through serious civil service reform. Also, he was a good dresser. But totally like President Bartlett, Arthur found out he had a fatal disease** and didn't tell anyone. He was pretty blase about running for reelection because of it, and he actually ended up dying of a cerberal hemorrhage in 1886. Other facts about Chester Alan Arthur: -Because of his fancy clothes, he was known as "the Gentleman's Boss" or "Elegant Arthur." -He was a widower who vowed never to remarry. -Supposedly he had, like, 80 pairs of pants and would change into different pants multiple times a day. I speculate that this had more to do with an incontinence problem than a penchant for fashion, though there does not seem to be any historical basis for such claims--I just like making them. -Before moving into the White House, he insisted on getting rid of all the old furniture and totally redecorating. I don't want to stereotype, but Chester A. Arthur may have been gay. -He was an avid fisherman who caught big fish sometimes. Fish are gross. Objectively. *Except for by his party, the Republicans. Also, Democrats. But non-politicians totally thought he was the cat's pajamas. **Some kidney thing.

Shenanigans, beards, boys

I took no time at all to acquire a drunken bearded Ohioan boyfriend. That's where I've been. It's pretty fucking awesome. Check in again soon.

What I learned in school today: Marx just wanted to spread some sunshine to the proletariat

Some random guy with a bust of Karl Marx.

As you all know, I am from America. In case you are unfamiliar with America, it is the awesomest, most reddest-whitest-bluest country ever.* And it is full of delicious, delicious capitalism. However, it turns out that some of that propaganda patriotism I learned in school may have misled me about Karl Marx and communism. First of all, who could demonize somebody with such a fucking awesome beard? Second, it turns out Marxy Marx is just a big softy. Who knew!? Out of context quote from Capital: "It is, however, just this ultimate money-form of the world of commodities that actually conceals, instead of disclosing, the social character of private labour, and the social relations between the individual producers." Pretty much Karl is like, "Let's stop relating to each other through objects and money and these various abstractions that distract us from holding hand and singing 'Kumbaya' while really valuing each other's labor." But he would have said it in German. Through his sweet fucking beard. And then he would have stroked Engels' mustache before writing some more impenetrable theory. My new bearded friend Thrift Store Champion had this to say about Karl's facial hair just now: "I think he had all kinds of stuff in that beard." Probably leprechaun jewels. *Don't forget to Never Forget™ tomorrow, fellow Americans!

Welcome to the Land of Linkin'

Yes, those are Abraham Lincoln lollipops. I bet they taste like freedom!


I've got a big batch of 'em, so I'll try and just pick a few faves for the masses. First, a few apropos the recent holiday:

-My pal Josh was apparently perturbed at my tendency to just sit around on the porch and let other people (usually guys) do all the grilling.* Listen, I like eating meat if other people make it, but I am really fucking lazy and prefer to spend my holidays sitting around and drinking. And yes, I do enjoy baking. Because I would pretty much always rather have a delicious cookie than a hamburger. Well, I'd pretty much rather have a delicious cookie than anything else. And I make damn delicious cookies. Which is why Ka$h is always worried about me getting scurvy. Not scurvy, my friend, just $1000 worth of fillings. Anyway, Josh muses on the cooking world's most pronounced gender divide. Girls don't grill, boys don't bake. (Embrace Your Inner Nerd)

-Pogie (a former mentor of our old friend The Pretentious Ex-Boyfriend) writes a lovely post on how liberals express their patriotism, even if they don't love Toby Keith. Choice quote: "Liberal criticism of our nation’s policies is often mistaken or mischaracterized by the Right as hatred of America, or a desire to leave. Nothing could be further from the truth." Makes me want to go home and watch some West Wing. Liberals Love the United States Too. (Intelligent Discontent)

More gender ranting:

Lame-o conservative columnist Kathleen Parker (will not link) confuses concern for the over-sexualization of children (legit) with victim-blaming (so not). Two of my favorite bloggers respond accordingly:

-Jeff Fecke. Choice quote:

“Can I touch you?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

Really, what’s hard to understand about that?

Extra points for the title: Begone, Wanton Trollops! (Blog of the Moderate Left, Shakesville)

-Amanda Marcotte. Choice quote:

What’s the sound of two strawmen mating? Probably the sound of them leaping up and singing in unison “If I Only Had Anatomically Correct Bits Under These Raggedy Pants”.

That tune's going to hit number one on the charts, you'll see! Save the stupid, cruel males. (Pandagon)

And just one more for now:

-I knew I was doing the right thing when I decided to stick with my regular health coverage, eschewing that complicated (and kinda pricey-sounding) health savings account bullshit. Ezra's got my back on that one: it costs more for the ladies. Why do health insurers hate women? (Ezra Klein at the American Prospect)




*Thanks for stepping up on the 4th, Scott! I was afraid I might have to actually touch the grill, possibly causing me to cut down on my alcohol consumption.

Ulysses S. Grant: America's Greekest* General-President

I've got a lot of respect for a guy who was a lifelong adherent of rocking the three-piece-suit + beard combo. Doesn't he look dreamy in his Union officer uniform?

Ulysses S. Grant was actually named Hiram Ulysses Grant, but some douchebag wrote his name wrong while nominating him to West Point, and the military insisted that he now be officially known as that. Lyss (as he was called as a child) was born in a log cabin in Ohio. He fought under future prez Zachary Taylor in the Mexican-American War, in which Grant showed heroism, but later he was like, "Yeah, that was kind of an unjust war. Too bad we did that. Also, slavery: not really that cool." At some point, Grant was married to a Julia Boggs and they had kids with silly names like "Buck," "Nellie," "Jesse," and "Fred," which maybe aren't all that silly, but taken together sound like they could be some of the Dukes cousins or something. But anyway, Grant was assigned for a while to (dum-dah-dum-DAH!) Fort Vancouver AKA the biggest thing in my hometown/destination of many a school field trip growing up. He couldn't support his family out west, though, so he just hung out and got drunk. Some say that's why he suddenly resigned from the army in 1854 (he got in trouble), others say it was depression. I say, are these two mutually exclusive? Hello! (points to self)

He moved to Missouri to work on his in-laws' farm. They had slaves. That made him feel pretty awkward, and he was not a very good farmer to boot. Then the Civil War happened. Grant re-joined the army and took on the recruitment and training of volunteers. He led some troops, gained the nickname "Unconditional Surrender," and started getting sent cigars by adoring fans. Apparently he had an amazing grasp of militiary strategery, and helped turn the war in the Union's favor. President Lincoln promoted him, like, a bunch of times until he became the General-in-Chief, which is like an Editor-in-Chief, but with more killing. Blahblahblah lots of bloody battles, eventually Robert E. Lee surrendered to Grant and hooray! the war ended (a few weeks later once everybody finally got word to stop fighting). Unfortunately, Grant's biggest fan, Lincoln, was assassinated (SPOILER!), but Grant served as one of his pallbearers. He didn't get on too well with default-President Johnson, and was chosen as the Republican nominee for President in 1868. Apparently he appealed to veterans--can you say, "Waving the bloody shirt?"

As the youngest President to that date (age 46), he did his best with the whole "Reconstruction" thing, trying to secure blacks' civil rights and such. He also made Christmas a national holiday. THX for legitimizing Jesus' birthday, U.S., BTW. Re-elected in 1872, Grant did an okay job as President, but there was a bit of a currency crisis during his presidency, and lots and lots of scandals. Grant also helped push the whole Gilded Age spoils system (James A. Garfield has so many people to thank!). After going on a post-presidency world tour with his wife, he lost the nomination to Garfield in an attempt at a third term (serves him right for being greedy, eh?) in 1880. Then he went bankrupt. Then he got throat cancer.** Luckily, Mark Twain (with whom he apparently shared a love of Old Crow bourbon) offered to pay him $$$ for his memoirs, which are supposed to be really good. Then he died in 1885 of that whole cancer thing. Luckily we keep his memory in our hearts by naming lots of streets after him and putting him on the under-used $50 bill. Oh, and supposedly he was tone deaf.*** U.S. Grant: giving alcoholics everywhere a reason to dream.

  *Grant was not Greek. His parents were both of English descent. Apparently they were just creative with his middle name. 
 **Goddamn cigars. 
 ***See Wikipedia for this and every other fact contained in this post.

Norton I: Did you know America had an emperor?

The Emperor gets his bike on.


As per an exciting request from Zachary (look at how I am passive-aggressively encouraging you to update your blog): I introduce to you Joshua Abraham Norton AKA His Imperial Majesty Emperor Norton I of these United States and Protector of Mexico. Just like today, nineteenth-century San Francisco encouraged local citizens to wander about in wacky apparel and make ridiculous public pronouncements. A crazy guy declared himself a royal sovereign, and the city indulged him for over twenty years. Although, I'm not going to lie, my favorite touch in his self-appointed title is the "First" part, as if he was expecting generations of Emperor Nortons to follow him. We're still waiting on that count.

But so anyway, the future emperor was born some time in the 1810s in London, and grew up in South Africa. After gaining a significant inheritance upon his father's death, Norton emigrated to San Francisco. He made a bad deal on some Peruvian rice,* lost a drawn-out lawsuit over the whole thing, and disappeared from SF for a few years. When he came back in 1859, he pronounced himself Emperor, and began making public demands. His fellow San Franciscans were apparently only too happy to play along. Besides claiming imperial rule of the country, Norton I declared that Congress should be dissolved, and tried to force the Protestant and the Catholic Church to officially ordain his rule. He was summarily ignored. Whatever, I know for a fact that The Sexy Gay Jesus totally endorses Emperor Norton I.

So though people in power (like Congress and the Army and such) pretty much just ignored His Imperial Majesty, but that didn't stop local newspapers from publishing his decrees (seriously, check them all out, they are hilarious). He became the city's awesomest resident eccentric, and was welcomed at some of the city's finest establishments and cultural events. He was buddies with famous local stray dogs Bummer and Lazarus, broke up at least one anti-Chinese immigration riot, abolished the national Democratic and Republican Parties, insisted that the word "Frisco" be banished,** and most awesomely, printed his own money:

Local restaurant owners and the like put up plaques to honor the Emperor and accepted his currency as legit. Joshua A. Norton may have been penniless, but Emperor Norton I had the Treasury! When he was arrested in 1867 to undergo treatment for mental illness, the city cried out in protest, and he was released. Luckily, the offending policeman was offered an Imperial Pardon, and the local officers continued to defer to the Emperor's inspections and authority.

Apparently our nation's first and only Emperor just wandered around San Francisco for a couple decades, wearing old army uniforms, a feathered hat, and carrying an old beat-up saber while making imperial statements. He was universally beloved, and when he collapsed on a street corner and died in 1880, 30,000 people came to pay their respects. The city paid to have him buried in a Masonic Cemetery.*** Mark Twain based the Huckleberry Finn con-artist character "The King" on him. Most recently, local officials wanted to name a new span of the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge after him (one of his main unmet demands was that the city build a bridge and a tunnel across the bay, both of which occurred in the 20th century). Apparently same lame-os on the city council or something didn't like that idea, and it got stuck in committee in 2004. But Emperor Norton I is still considered one of San Francisco's finest historical citizens. If I ever go crazy and start claiming I'm the emperor of something, I just hope my neighbors are as awesome as his were.



*A serious blunder, to be sure, "But only slightly less well-known is this, 'Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!'"

**Punishment was a $25 fine paid to the Imperial Treasury.

***YOU GUYS: The Freemasons are EVERYWHERE. This should make you nervous.

Benjamin Harrison: Kinda Like Jenna Bush

He had a pretty good beard.

Benjamin Harrison served as our nation's 23rd President, nestled in a sandwich made of Grover Cleveland's delicious non-consecutive terms. He was the grandson of the ill-fated President Tippecanoe, and the son of a Congressman, which is how he is like Jenna Bush. Pretty much. Born in Ohio and a graduate of the erroneously-named "Miami University" there, Benjamin Harrison belonged to a "private gentleman's club" of some kind that may or may have not involved strippers. I decline to do any further research. He married Caroline Scott and they had a son and a daughter. They turned out to be ungrateful brats (see: Harrison's second marriage). Harrison served in the Union army, while his future rival Cleveland paid somebody off to take his place. Can't really blame old Groves, though, I've seen Civil War movies. You know they didn't have anesthesia back then? Also, they just lined up and shot at each other. Dumbest. tactic. ever. Harrison's army buddies used to call him "Little Ben" because he was only 5'6". Which is slightly taller than me, but nobody calls me "little" anything because I would punch them in the face if they did.*

Anyway, like pretty much everyone else who was elected president between the Civil War and WWI, Benjamin Harrison was a Republican. After settling in Indiana, he held some random local offices and served in the Senate for six years in the 1880s. But in the somewhat-sketchy election of 1888, Harrison defeated the incumbent President Cleveland, despite losing the popular vote. (Goddamn electoral college always fucking us over.) This period in U.S. History has been called "The Gilded Age". This is because men like Carnegie, Rockefeller, and various corrupt politicians insisted that everything they owned be covered in gold. As you can imagine, this made all their shit really shiny, expensive, and heavy.

Google image search: Cleveland sandwich.

The spoils system was in full swing at this time (James A. Garfield continues to say thanks from beyond the grave, BTW), and though Harrison mostly kept his fingers out of the political promise pie, his supporters were not so scrupulous. This was awkward for Benjamin Harrison. As a Republican, he couldn't really try and reform civil service, because no one would like him. It turned out that nobody liked him anyway. He presided over a tariff/treasury surplus situation that didn't really turn out that well for anyone, though he did sign the Sherman Anti-Trust Act into law. An economic downturn and general corruption brought about a tough beating for the Republicans in the 1890 midterm elections. Harrison somehow managed to get re-nominated, however, and went up to bat** against Cleveland again. This time, there was apparently less cheating or something, because the American people wanted Cleveland back. That's a pretty clear mandate, President Harrison. Sorry everyone hates you. Oh, and his wife died pretty much right while he was losing.

Anyway, old "Kid Gloves" Harrison (He was called this because he had some sort of skin sensitivity that made him have to wear gloves. That's what Michael Jackson said too. Innnnteresting.) returned to Indiana, got remarried to one of his wife's nieces and had another kid; pissing off his grown children, who were worried about getting their full inheritance. He did some "elder statesman" bullshit for awhile, but ended up succumbing to influenza and pneumonia (just like Gramps!), dying in 1901.*** He's had some shit named after him, but he's mostly been forgotten because he didn't really do anything very cool like start a war, get shot, or commit genocide. Anyway, this is kinda what we have to look forward to when Jenna runs in 2036.



*This is false. Most likely. Don't test me.

**This stupid sports metaphor is where I will mention that Harrison was the first U.S. President to attend a baseball game, according to the the "discouraged" trivia section of his Wikipedia article.

***"It's like ten thousand spoons, when all you need is a knife..."

Tuesday Tidbits

All that glorious Joe Soucheray-bashing and today's template-fussing-with has left me awfully uninspired. Or perhaps I should just start admitting that uninspired is my most natural state. Inspiration wouldn't really be special if it was a consistent state of being. So anyway, some links and whatnot: -Apparently some people shave at their desks. Ew. I think this is a plus to working in an office full of women; no one would bother shaving their legs at their desk. I hope. But I hadn't mentioned facial hair in a while, so I thought it was time to live up to my own masthead. Don't mess with genius. (Embrace Your Inner Nerd) -New(to me) blogger Lisa Kansas has a great discussion about abstinence. Key quote:

Why is it so important to not have sex? Why the obsession? After having read multiple articles and surfed too many websites, I have come to the following conclusion: There is no abstinence movement that is not based in an organized patriarchal religion.

Personally, I am SHOCKED to learn that the patriarchy might be involved in this whole "no-sex" thing. Shocked and appalled. All These Posts about the Abstinence Clearinghouse Have Inspired Me. (Punkass Blog) I don't have anything else cool to share right now. I was tragically lacking in internet access for much of the weekend. However, this did allow my hands and wrists to rest a little (repetitive stress, anyone?), and they actually do not hurt today. So, huzzah! The Sexy Gay Jesus always has a plan.

I'd like to thank Jesus for dying so I could have tomorrow off

Well, my ANTM predictions about Claire turned out quite positively--she did win the challenge. I've now moved up into 28th place overall. I wish there were actually money and/or prizes riding on this fantasy league, but I think it's mostly just for people with too much time on their hands. But anyway, I've got Good Friday off manana, and I have no plans. Although my ridiculous wildlife calendar (Florida panther this month, with a manatee inset) is telling me that tomorrow is also Purim (is that Jewish?) AND a full moon. I just consulted Wikipedia, and found out that Purim is the Book of Esther one. I love how the Jews were always being delivered from annihilation by lamb's blood on doorways or by having a really hot Jewish chick marry the Persian king and then talk him out of killing everyone. That crazy Yahweh, what will he think of next?! How fortuitous for those of us who love commemorating Jesus' crucifixion and playing with our Purim graggers to be able to combine those in a crazy Good Friday Mass-crashing ra'ashan extravaganza! That's totally where I'd be tomorrow if it weren't for my pesky monthly "transformation."* Luckily, today is the Vernal Equinox, and I'm sure there's some sort of religio-pagan ceremony I can perform to make up for it.

In the meantime, some linkies for the long weekend:

I think I have a moral obligation to link to all blog posts written by Tinky-Winky. (This one's for you, Julia!) Commenter Strike! (Jesus' General)

Continuing my passive-aggressive battle to get my awesome vintage/novelty shirt(s) back from Whatshisname, I thought this was a well-written analysis of why t-shirts are so important and hold so much meaning. Choice quote: "The ideal shirt will have a funny logo, a year attached to it, and will be as thin as rice paper. In the event that two white people have shirts that meet this criteria, the superior ranking is given to the person who paid the least for the shirt." Tru dat, bitchez. $1.19 bin wins every time. #84 T-Shirts. (Stuff White People Like)

OMG Ludacris ho map. (That one's for Anne, my favorite 360-ho.) Via Terrible Mother.

Happy Holy Weekend, friends! I will be celebrating all weekend long/hopefully avoiding making any incredibly awkward scenes in the meantime.


*Something I have in common with both Teen Wolf and Jesus is a love of facial hair. Oh my god, maybe Teen Wolf IS JESUS. You guys, the Second Coming happened in a mediocre 1985 teen movie, and we didn't even notice!!

Profiles in Facial Hair

I don't really have anything to blog about today, but I did come upon this fabulous beard interview. There's an awesome photo gallery of this guy's beard through the years.

God I love Cow & Boy

And beards. I love beards too. Have I mentioned that?


See more Cow and Boy. I've been a fan since Billy and Cow played "Cowboys and German Philosophers." Also, when they discussed building a fortress out of chocolate and bacon. Yum.

Facial hair pleases me

Uncle Walt knows what I'm talking about.

I'm going to point you towards this post by Jeff Fecke because a) he is awesome and b) facial hair is your friend. Vote in the poll! I wish both that it were socially acceptable for women to have visible facial hair and that I could grow it. I'd totes have a big beard that I'd store snacks and leprechaun jewels in.