injaynesworld... Thank You Lawrence O'Donnell

There are fewer things more frightening to me than Dick Cheney and the damage he's done to this country, except perhaps his Spawn of Satan daughter, Liz, who seems determined to carry on the family's legacy of hate and lies.   Her latest attack on President Obama for going to Dover Air Force Base to honor the 18 fallen heroes who died in Afghanistan last week represents a new low, even for a Cheney.  In this video, Lawrence O'Donnell calls out her vicious lying ass.   Happy Halloween.

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injaynesworld "This Is It" rocked my world

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First of all, it was crazy windy and I still went to the movie.   Points for me!   And I stayed awake.  More points for me!

The movie should more than satisfy any Jackson fan and even those who weren't.  At its core it's that backstage look at the putting together of a major show by a major superstar -- glimpses of a world few of us will ever have the opportunity to see.  

I was not a Jackson fan.   I didn't dislike him.   I sang along and grooved to his music whenever it came on the radio, but I never bought an album (yes, as in vinyl), CD, DVD or anything else produced with his likeness,  and I was completely entranced by this film, which is lovingly culled from 80 hours of footage by the very talented choreographer/director, Kenny Ortega. 

It starts out with the audition of the dancers as they speak into the camera, bearing their emotions as they tell us what Michael (or MJ, as he's often called) and this opportunity to perform with him means to them.   The theme of the film, and the tour, and Michael's fragile life, was always love and these amazingly talented young people unabashedly express that love not only in words, but through the 110% they give in their performances.

It took me a while to get past Michael's appearance.   He looks so frail and his face, that face that he methodically distorted so as not to look anything like his much-detested father,  reveals a deep internal struggle to prove to the world that he's still the king, while at the same time someone who is exhausted from continually having to prove himself.   But get past that I did, and you will too, because there is so much more to this film and to Michael.

What struck me the strongest is that his inherent sweetness, gentleness, and joy; his love for the music and for everyone around him and, yes, for the world, still shines like a beacon.   That's his humanity.   But there is something else, his genius, that comes through so strongly and seems almost inhuman in that it's hard to grasp that any mere mortal could be capable of transforming themselves so completely into their instrument.

Fans of Michael's music will not be disappointed.   It's all there.   Watching him rehearse a song, putting together every beat in meticulous coordination with lighting and effects, along with his interaction with his musicians, is absolutely dazzling and showcases his brilliance in a way that is completely devastating as one realizes that amazing light is gone forever.

I could go on, but this is just my experience.  Yours will be unique to your feelings about Michael, his music, and his life, but I will say that just purely on a level of a rock 'n' roll movie, "This Is It" delivers and then some.  I doubt anyone will be disappointed.

injaynesworld we like things to go "According To Plan"

I woke up to wind today.  Not just a breeze, but the real howling type.  I hate the wind.  It messes with my mind, and does untold damage to my coif.  I can take any type of weather, but the wind.   It truly makes me uneasy.  I like order in my world, predictability.  I’m not one who appreciates surprises of any sort.  Why would a friend casually ask you to stop by to help her hang curtains, fully knowing you would show up in dirty jeans and a hoody, with greasy hair and no makeup only to have 30 people, dressed in their finest, each one armed with a camera, pop out and yell “Surprise!”   Why would anyone think that would be appreciated?

I’m a planner.  And I like to stick to the plans I’ve made.  Spontaneity and adventure are not my friends.  I have dinner at a certain time.  I watch certain TV shows and I go to bed at a certain time.  I don’t even like to go out after dark.  In my defense, I have a bit of night blindness that makes driving at night something of an adventure and there’s that word again that I like to avoid.   Oddly, and completely contradictory to my disdain for any unplanned event, is the sport that is my life’s passion which is riding and, most of all, jumping horses.  Yes, I actually get on the back of a 1200-pound horse, canter down to a fence and over we go, most of the time.  There have been a few times when I’ve been the only one to go over, definitely an unplanned event, but still I continue to do it.   Go figure. 

Tonight, I’m moving out of my comfort zone.  I’m going to a 9:00 o’clock showing of “This Is It,” the Michael Jackson film.   That is the only time it’s playing and I really want to see it, but I wasn’t going to go because, well, it’s dark at 9:00 o’clock, and by then I’m usually on my third glass of wine, drifting toward my jammies, and thoroughly settled in.  But a friend of mine wants to see it, too, and to goad me into going with her she called me “an old biddy.”   Then she apologized, but she’s right.  I am “an old biddy,” and you really have to stick dynamite up my ass to blast me out of my routine.   So tonight I’m breakin’ out, baby.  I’m riskin’ it big time.  I’m going to a 9:00 o’clock movie.  

Unless it’s windy.

injaynesworld we bring you another "Sunday Recap"

There was a lot that went on this week, some of it funny, some of it not so much.   Bear with me…  (I could bitch-slap myself for that one.)

At “Bears On Ice” in Russia this week, a five-year-old ice-skating bear, being righteously pissed off because he was being forced to be an ice-skating bear, lost it and went postal on his trainer, killing him.   And, once more, all the TV talking heads are shocked.    Really?    Shocked?     What shocks me is that when something like this happens – over and over again – we still don’t get that wild animals do not belong on fucking ice skates, or dressed in tutus standing on their heads, or jumping through hoops of  fire for our fucking amusement.   I’d like to dress these trainers in tutus, put them in ice skates and jump their asses through hoops of fire.   

To me, the tragedy here isn’t that the trainer was killed.  That was an unfortunate consequence of his chosen actions.  The real tragedy is that after displaying the natural response any wild animal would display in defending itself, this bear was killed -- because he was a wild animal!    No shit!    If I had my way these heroic, majestic creatures would be given a fucking Medal of Honor when this happens for standing up for all the other innocent, helpless animals being tortured in these freak shows so somebody can make a buck.

And while I’m at it (and I seem to be on a roll here), there wouldn’t even be circus animals if people didn’t shell out money in support of these atrocities.   What the hell kind of message does it send to kids to take them to watch animals be tormented like this?

Bullfights – same thing.    I always root for the bull.   I root for the bulls during those crazy-ass bull runs every year, too, and actually cheer when one of those testosterone-driven idiots gets themselves gored.  (Not to rag on the guys here, but I’ve yet to see an estrogen-driven idiot in one of these exhibitions.)  

Wild animals belong in the wild.   Not suffering in a show so that someone's cotton-candied-faced little darling can partake in this barbaric form of  “entertainment.”  And yes I, too, was once someone's cotton-candied-faced little darling who was taken to the circus, but I'm older than dirt and those were the dark ages.  We were ignorant of the beatings and the chains and all the other horrors these animals suffer for our benefit.  We know better now.  We have no excuse. 

Wow… Three uses of the F-word in one post.   That’s a personal best

injaynesworld there are some “Apps We’d Really Like To See”

Yeah, I've seen the commercials, too  “There’s an app for everything,” my ass.   Oh, sure.  Maybe if you want to hear fart sounds or translate fuck you into Mandarin Chinese.  But what about the things we really need done? 

I need an app that will make me a Margarita.

Exercise for me so I can sit here sipping the Margarita it just made while it revs up my heart rate and makes me sweat like a pig. (Do pigs actually sweat?  Wait.  There’s an app for that.)

Clean the toilet, and the cat's toilet, too. 

Run me a nice bath.

Now give me a manicure.

Go get that nasty little pap smear I’ve been putting off, and shove your tit in a vice, too, while you're at it.

Time for another Margarita.

And I’ll have a Cobb salad for lunch, please.

Print me some money, small bills will do.  I'm going shopping.  No, thank you.  I can do that myself, but I'll need you to park the car. 

Kill the rat-bastard gophers who are killing my lawn.  

Now re-seed the lawn.

Unclutter my desk… and my life.

Wash my car and go get gas -- 25 miles out on the highway at the cheap station.

Grocery shop.   Don’t forget the tequila.

Empty the garbage.  Recycle, and crush the boxes, please. 

A foot rub would be nice right about now.

Fix dinner.  The fat-absorber app will take care of that cake I'll be having for dessert. 

Oh, look.  Empty glass.  I believe I’ll have another Margarita, thank you.

Back rub before sleep?  Absolutely.  And hand me that Ambien.

So how about it, Apple?   Is that really too much to ask?  Oh, wait... There's an app for that, too. 

injaynesworld we say Thank You, Gutsy Gals

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Today injaynesworld was featured in the October newsletter of  Gusty Gals Inspire Me , a great website that celebrates women's endeavors of all kinds.   They included an excerpt from "Out of My Hands," the story I wrote about the night I took a freak fall and broke my neck.   Since that story is buried back in my August archives and readers of the newsletter have been directed here to read the entire story, just clicking on the link should take you right there.  If you like what you read, take a further look around and, if you're so inclined, you can click the follow button and join all the tiny heads on my sidebar.  I do love those tiny heads.

A special thank you to Deborah Hutchison, founder of Gusty Gals and one of the gutsiest gals I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.   She is also the author of the truly awesome just published book "Put It In Writing," which should definitely be in every gutsy gal's library. 

Thanks so much, Deb.  I'm so honored by this incredible shout-out.

injaynesworld we ask God, "What the hell were you thinking?"

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It seems lately like all the really cool people are gay.  Neil Patrick Harris, Rachel Maddow, Ellen, of course, Queen Latifa -- who rocks more than the Queen? -- Melissa Etheridge, even the Enterprise's own Mr. Sulu.  Okay, maybe he's not all that cool, but I could go on and on.  I bet you have your favorites, too.  There are just a whole lot of really cool gay people.   I want to be gay, too, but apparently it’s not something you can just sign up for like a frequent-shopper card. 

I do think it would be nice, and certainly reasonable, if God had simply created us all bi-sexual.   It would instantly double everyone’s dating pool and we wouldn’t have so many repressed, closeted Republicans Larry Craig.  Besides, given the option we all know that men prefer to hang with other men and women prefer to hang with their girlfriends, and I’d bet the big bucks that given the biological choice you’d see a lot more same-sex couples than opposite sex ones.  

Wouldn’t it be nice if we lived in a world where “gay marriage” weren’t an issue?    Where gay teens weren’t prone to higher rates of suicide?    Where the perpetrators of hate crimes had one less group to prey on?   I think God really screwed up on this.   I honestly do.  

Another thing I think God could have done better is the design of a woman’s body.   Why is it that the female of every other species can get pregnant only when she’s in heat, while the human female can get herself knocked up pretty much any time except when she’s in heat.   In fact, other species don’t even want to have sex unless the female is in heat.  Think about it.   If you knew exactly when you could get pregnant and you didn’t want a kid, you could simply not have sex then.   Abortion would cease to be an issue.  Teen pregnancy – a thing of the past.  

And while I’m second-guessing The Big Guy here, what’s up with Victoria Secret model-types being the standard of what’s considered beautiful?    When I’m God women who look like that will be considered freaks and ostracized from society.  In fact, when I’m God good things will only happen to good people and bad things will only happen to bad people, and Prozac will be a natural ingredient in the water supply the world over thus making people far less likely to murder and start wars.  

You know what?   This God stuff?  It’s not all that hard.  I think I’d be pretty good at it. If you were God, what would you change?