Fried Day

Well, it’s finally fucking Friday or Fried Day as I often think of it.

There’s a few things on my bean this morning.

First, I’ve got nothing much to add to the whole Al Franken brouhaha. Mindy Fischer on her Facebook page and Jim Wright over at Stonekettle Station have covered it handily.

All I gotta say is this, everyone should be held to the same damn standard, including the pussy grabbing miscreant in the White House.

Trump has been accused of rape and attempted rape a total of three times, once involving an alleged victim who was a year younger than Moore's accuser. (source)

Franken was a prickish boor, not a rapist or a child molester. He’s sincerely apologized (and his accuser has accepted it and said he should NOT resign over this) and he called for an ethics investigation of himself (which, I’m guessing, means there’s nothing else to be found).

Enough about Franken.
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I’m in Diet Plateau Hell but at least I’ve not gained any dreaded weight back. Trying to shed excess poundage during the heinousosity of Mango Mussolini’s reign of error and terror is especially challenging. Yes, I deserve a medal. NO, I deserve CARROT CAKE…mmmmmmmmmmm.
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On a crowded red line train earlier this week, I noticed a clot of young folk – they were together. All were deeply immersed in their tiny phones, not talking with one another. I remember life before tinyphones when people read BOOKS, talked to friends or just sat silently cogitating as they voyaged from Park Street to Alewife or wherevs.

Also too, hey you kids, get off my lawn!
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Michelle Combs over at Rubber Shoes in Hell has a post up which is, more or less, about empathy. She mentions that, when watching movies:

I hate when characters are humiliated or embarrassed or caught in compromising positions. I find it physically painful to watch.

Yeah, I can SO relate. This is part of why I mostly stick to sci fi, fantastical, can’t-really-happen flicks. Still, during the particularly nerve-wracking parts, I either gotta leave the room OR start doing sit-ups (rilly). The scene in Galaxy Quest where the aliens visit drunk has-been Jason Nesmith. On a prosaic front, the scene in Fargo when Marge Gunderson meets Mike Yanagita. Yeah, this.

Obvs, I’m a real treat on movie dates.

As it turns out, there’s a perfect, descriptive word for this in Finnish.

Myötähäpeä

This translates, roughly, as co-embarrassment or secondhand embarrassment. Exactly! How to pronounce myötähäpeä though?

And that’s all I’ve got for today. Cheers!