Is John Travolta ashamed of his autistic son?

Travolta has either pretended there is nothing wrong with Jett, 15, or claimed his condition is Kawasaki syndrome, a disease characterized by high fever, skin rash and swelling of the lymph nodes. …

One magazine editor who has interviewed Travolta more than once says that the star’s son is disabled – and yet he continues to behave as if nothing is wrong.

“Travolta sits there in interviews talking about how Jett loves to read or play sports, but it is clear that the boy can barely do either,” the editor said.

So why would Travolta be in denial?

Sadly, the Scientology couple cannot even publicly admit that their son is afflicted with a neurological disorder, lest – according to the incontrovertible doctrine of Scientology founder L Ron Hubbard – he be labeled a “degraded being” that brought his affliction onto himself. Instead, the Travoltas have long blamed their son’s disability on Kawasaki Syndrome-related “environmental toxins,” specifically carpet cleaning chemicals.

Sad that Travolta would choose cult orthodoxy over his son’s well-being.

Ain’t no Republicans in Atlanta

Among the reasons, I’m sure, that Gov. H. Dumpty vetoed a $40 million state grant to the Peachtree corridor project. The proposal would add streetcars as part of an overhaul of Atlanta’s main thoroughfare.

God knows it’s needed. But not as much as $19 million to promote fishing in Georgia.

Downtown remains the state’s bastard, and it shows. 

Worst. Governor. Ever. (Okay, Lester Maddox was worse. And Tom Watson. But Sonny’s in the top tier.) 

Five local bloggers who matter, plus another 1,000 that matter just as much

Here’s how Andy should’ve written his story on the local blogosphere:

THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS A BAD BLOGGER

In choosing five local bloggers that matter, we pored over thousands of worthy contenders. Try as we might, we couldn’t find a bad one. Whether it was yearning for one’s foreskin or detailing the contents of that morning’s breakfast, all blogs reviewed had something to say. Something consequential.

Fluff. Blather. Positive reinforcement. Rinse. Repeat.

YouTube du jour

Strange pick for a Friday; enjoy, or endure, the Manic Street Preachers‘ cover of "Suicide is Painless" (the M*A*S*H theme song) — watch here.

This song came out three years before lyricist and guitarist Richey James Edwards disappeared. It’s presumed he took his own life.

Me president, you fucked

I think George W. has finally gone around the bend:

Friends of his from Texas were shocked recently to find him nearly wild-eyed, thumping himself on the chest three times while he repeated “I am the president!” He also made it clear he was setting Iraq up so his successor could not get out of “our country’s destiny.”

(Via Andrew Sullivan)

The danger of diversity

Ali Eteraz nails it:

Diversity, the idea, is good. Diversity, the social engineering project, in which each colored, each religionist, each sexual preference, is praised for the simple fact that he or she exists, is a load of crap. When everyone is all into fully embracing their “identity,” they give up what Jean Baudrillard calls the will for sovereignty. In other words, who gives an eff what you call yourself if you’re not free? Yet that’s exactly what the diversity discourse does. It tells you, here is a nice corner for you , look we even put cushions there of the kind your mother stitches, now just stay there OK? Everyone ends up in ghettoes.

BTW, the movie sucks

Falwell may be dead, but the Illinois Review continues his crusade against a clever — but devious — LGBT conspiracy: 

Shrek’s not the problem.  It’s the awkward inclusion of a transvestite and the uselessness of the character himself (herself?) in the story that is troubling.

Right in the midst of a warm “traditional family” setting,  the film writers place a man dressed as a woman in with Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Snow White (the good gals).  The crossdressing character simply doesn’t make sense, except as a ploy to desensitize children and parents to transgenders.

Not to alarm anyone, but are the folks at the Illinois Review aware that Fred Flintstone and his pal Barney both wore dresses?

Is John Travolta ashamed of his autistic son?

Travolta has either pretended there is nothing wrong with Jett, 15, or claimed his condition is Kawasaki syndrome, a disease characterized by high fever, skin rash and swelling of the lymph nodes. …

One magazine editor who has interviewed Travolta more than once says that the star’s son is disabled – and yet he continues to behave as if nothing is wrong.

"Travolta sits there in interviews talking about how Jett loves to read or play sports, but it is clear that the boy can barely do either," the editor said.

So why would Travolta be in denial?

Sadly, the Scientology couple cannot even publicly admit that their son is afflicted with a neurological disorder, lest – according to the incontrovertible doctrine of Scientology founder L Ron Hubbard – he be labeled a "degraded being" that brought his affliction onto himself. Instead, the Travoltas have long blamed their son’s disability on Kawasaki Syndrome-related "environmental toxins," specifically carpet cleaning chemicals.

Sad that Travolta would choose cult orthodoxy over his son’s well-being.

Ain’t no Republicans in Atlanta

Among the reasons, I’m sure, that Gov. H. Dumpty vetoed a $40 million state grant to the Peachtree corridor project. The proposal would add streetcars as part of an overhaul of Atlanta’s main thoroughfare.

God knows it’s needed. But not as much as $19 million to promote fishing in Georgia.

Downtown remains the state’s bastard, and it shows. 

Worst. Governor. Ever. (Okay, Lester Maddox was worse. And Tom Watson. But Sonny’s in the top tier.) 

Me president, you fucked

I think George W. has finally gone around the bend:

Friends of his from Texas were shocked recently to find him nearly wild-eyed, thumping himself on the chest three times while he repeated "I am the president!" He also made it clear he was setting Iraq up so his successor could not get out of "our country’s destiny."

(Via Andrew Sullivan)

The danger of diversity

Ali Eteraz nails it:

Diversity, the idea, is good. Diversity, the social engineering project, in which each colored, each religionist, each sexual preference, is praised for the simple fact that he or she exists, is a load of crap. When everyone is all into fully embracing their “identity,” they give up what Jean Baudrillard calls the will for sovereignty. In other words, who gives an eff what you call yourself if you’re not free? Yet that’s exactly what the diversity discourse does. It tells you, here is a nice corner for you , look we even put cushions there of the kind your mother stitches, now just stay there OK? Everyone ends up in ghettoes.

BTW, the movie sucks

Falwell may be dead, but the Illinois Review continues his crusade against a clever — but devious — LGBT conspiracy: 

Shrek’s not the problem.  It’s the awkward inclusion of a transvestite and the uselessness of the character himself (herself?) in the story that is troubling.

Right in the midst of a warm "traditional family" setting,  the film writers place a man dressed as a woman in with Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Snow White (the good gals).  The crossdressing character simply doesn’t make sense, except as a ploy to desensitize children and parents to transgenders.

Not to alarm anyone, but are the folks at the Illinois Review aware that Fred Flintstone and his pal Barney both wore dresses?

Many blogs are lousy, and many bloggers are whiners

Yesterday I linked to my friend Andy’s CL cover story on local bloggers. It’s a well-written, informative piece. But that doesn’t matter to an assortment of sore losers whose biggest complaint seems to be they weren’t included.

From Grayson:

Making lists is not journalism Andy. It’s just pretty bullshit, and it has nothing to do with the state of social media community in Atlanta. You’re a snotty little dipshit reporter who can’t tell a story without layers of baby snot blown all over his silly copy, to disguise the fact that there was simply nothing newsworthy in that cover story.

From Rusty:

I cannot comprehend what compels “journalists” to “compile” “lists.” To each their own, I suppose, but the point you’re missing is that you and others in the MSM are no longer the arbiters of what is and isn’t important to people. And you never will be again. Get used to it.

From thebrotherlove.com:

The problem with these types of lists is that feelings always get hurt because it’s impossible to be inclusive. To Andy’s credit, each blogger he lists is worthy of attention (although listing a former CL editor and columnist is specious). However damning the overall Atlanta blogging community (labeling it “dim”) and treating the city as if it has some sort of lock on navel-gazing blogs is lazy and pathetic.

(You’re right — journalists should never hurt anyone’s feelings.)

Others are angry that Andy dare criticize fellow bloggers.

From Amber:

That’s the both good and bad thing about blogging. You might think reading about someone’s lunch is crap and a waste of time – someone else might think the exact opposite. Neither opinion is more or less valid than the other. We each decide what has value for us, and why.

Naturally, Duane was offended:

I didn’t realize that there was a specific rule of thumb regarding blogs, and I especially didn’t realize that those of us that dare use our own personal websites to discuss things about ourselves made us neurotic or self-obsessed; in fact, I kind of thought that was the fucking point of having the personal blog in the first place. I guess that little jab was at all of us that dare use our blogs as personal weblogs, to ponder our own things. Perhaps we should be doing that which the “upper crust” does; sit around and poke fun at everyone else.

Addressing the second point first — taste is not always subjective. If you like PT Cruisers, or think Lindsay Lohan rocks, that’s certainly your prerogative. Just as it’s mine to say you have crappy taste. That’s a big problem in our PC society: no judgments, no criticism. I encountered this at film school; our professors were way too positive. No matter how listless the script, we were showered with adulation. Better to tell me “your script is shit” than have me waste nine months on yet another pointless inside Hollywoood parable.

And where’s the love for the bloggers mentioned in the story? All were deserving. Instead of sour grapes, why not be happy that some neighbors in the blogosphere received some pub?

It’s instructive that many of these whiners found it necessary to rag on Andy, insulting his work and deriding him as a member of the dreaded MSM, which in blogspeak is like calling someone a faggot. It’s now clear he made the right choice in excluding them.