Poem :: Murder-Suicide

B&W photograph of blonde woman with crossed arms and sunglasses, staring directly at camera.
Photo Credit: George Eastman House

There was a man. The paper says ‘troubled.’

His sister says ‘sweet.’ The neighbors say ‘quiet.’

There was a knife. The paper says ‘sharp.’

His mother says ‘hidden.’ The store adds ‘purchased.’

There was a woman. She was his wife,

an object he troubled, an extra appendage.

There were some children. The paper says ‘boys.’

The school says ‘darling.’ An aunt writes ‘mourned.’

Their mother adored them. She kept them close:

for there was a man—a troubling man.

He was her husband; he was their father.

His voice ran hard; his fist swung wide.

But the paper can’t say that: there’s no one talking.

‘Cos there’s no one living. So it’s ‘troubled.’

So it’s ‘quiet.’ They’re ‘deceased.’ No one says murder.

But we have questions: There was a knife.

Did it trouble her flesh? Why was she so quiet?

This was a woman: Did she exist? Or is she a prop

to sadden his story? Did she have a mother?

Where is her history? For she was a woman—

like we are women. For she was a person

like we are persons. The paper says ‘family.’

The village says ‘neighbors.’ The priest says ‘angels.’

But we know better: She was a woman,

in death a mystery, in light a wonder. But still:

a woman. Another woman (of many women)

whose ‘troubled’ man ended her life.




This poem was inspired by writer Linea Dunne’s insightful “Rest in peace, invisible woman,” which is about media coverage of the recent murder-suicide of Clodagh Hawe (née Coll) and her three sons by her husband. Here’s a fair example of the coverage of her murder (as well as many other murders like Clodagh Hawe’s): Heartbreaking first picture of tragic mum and wife Clodagh Hawe killed in murder-suicide in Cavan. Note that this story discusses at length the life of the murderer, but fails to mention much about the people he actually murdered. While the poem is not explicitly about Hawe or any particular woman of recent memory, it is dedicated to her family. Rest in power, Clodagh Hawe.

Humor :: Miss Frankly Forty

 

PSST! Double click the pic for a much larger readable size. I made this whole thing just for you, you, you!
Open fake book from 1940s showing advice for women over forty.

NOTES

1) We know the actual plural of uterus is uteri, not uteruses. But, really—who’s counting uteri right now anyway?

2) I hope you don’t think I’m kidding, re: women over 40 on/in TV, but just in case here’s an industry-respected study for women in/on TV in 2014.

3) Oh, and there’s this crazy thing too.

Editorial :: Todd Kincannon: The GOP’s Bumbling 140-Character (or Less) Assassin

Todd Kincannon's face with doodles on it.

    Warning: This editorial piece contains both intense profanity and actual facts using verifiable sources (both of ’em mostly provided by Todd Kincannon himself), not to mention a LOT of racist and sexist language popular amongst Kincannon’s social set. Comments are turned off for obvious reasons. As you know, we’ve made it a point for years now to not write political editorials on Bluebird Blvd. Well, circumstances have changed.




    I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain’t one.
    If you having girl problems, I feel bad for you, son.
    Hit me!   Jay-Z


    The Democrats just never learn: Americans don’t really care which side of an issue you’re on as long as you don’t act like pussies. When Van Jones called the Republicans a**holes, he was paying them a compliment. He was talking about how they can get things done even when they’re in the minority, as opposed to the Democrats, who can’t seem to get anything done even when they control both houses of Congress, the presidency, and Bruce Springsteen.   Bill Maher





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It looks as though baby-faced Republibubba Todd Kincannon is having a banner week.


Ever since Kincannon called Texas Gov. hopeful Wendy Davis a whore on Twitter nine days ago, he’s been, as we like to say in Texas, living high on the hog. Kincannon’s unsubtle remarks about Davis were inflammatory enough to be considered worthy of minor press coverage in two major news outlets.m(Is Wendy Davis a Whore? Answers at 11!)

A smattering of his ongoing whore-related comments on Davis caused liberal bloggers to take bait and run around with Kincannon’s personally-tailored flaming bags of poo. This is what Kincannon does. He works hard at those inflammatory remarks of his, putting in twenty hour days on a regular basis while sitting around in his BVDs and black sock garters drinking buttermilk out of the carton. And all Kincannon’s hard work does pay off: Every once in awhile the flame does catch.


So the Wendy Davis comments are a big win for a man like Todd Kincannon, whose highest achievement to date within the South Carolina GOP (SCGOP) was a two-month appointment as Executive Director, a job that has always been a two-to-ten year gig for his fellow compatriots.

And while the 32-year-old Kincannon is the first to crow that he was his party’s day-to-day man, he never gives a peep about how briefly he had that job. Hell, he doesn’t mention it anywhere where he lists his Executive Directorship, including his LinkedIn page, his start-up law firm’s website, his Twitter account or the resumé his mom stitched in his drawers.


Good ol’ Kincannon, much like the GOP, has been kicking around town since losing the top slot. Someone finally got through to the big guys in the GOP that the internet isn’t a fancy set of Encyclopedia Britannica—it took fifteen years, but by gawd, they did it. Conservatives of all stripes have swarmed the social media marketplace since 2010.

Even permanently poker-faced Bill O’Reilly slapped up a minimalistic Facebook Page in support of one of his “Liberals Killed Abraham Lincoln/Jesus/Your Mama” books, but he hasn’t been seen around since. Of course, there’s the updated-nearly-hourly RedState site, whose tagline is this clever tongue-twister: “RedState does not stand athwart* history yelling stop. We yell “’ready,’ ‘aim,’ and ‘fire,’ too.”


In 2013, Kincannon stopped kicking around long enough to discover the pleasures of Twitter. His tweets are, as you might think, the high-class comedy everyone has come to expect from outriders in the GOP camp, but Kincannon has a special feel for which curse words to place where. Kincannon has been been banned five times in a single year by Twitter, an accomplishment in and of itself.

Today, Kincannon teeters between keeping his current Twitter account and losing it again. He’s worried about being sent back to the “Twitter Gulag” and jokes around about his recent stint at the “Twitter Reeducation Camp.” Not being allowed to use capitalism-friendly Twitter because you have a habit of bullying and hate speech is just like the experience of unsuspecting citizens of Russian and China when their countries decided communism was the way to go, like it or lump it.


Those are the kind of analogies Kincannon likes to share with his followers, and he’s good at them. Sort of. Another good point in his favor: Kincannon’s a little more swift about checking his spelling and his grammar than most online newspapers. His syntax actually is remarkable for the fast conversational style of Twitter. He can spell c-o-c-k like a pro and p-r-o-s-t-i-t-u-t-e and a-d h-o-c as if to the manor born.

Just last Wednesday night after tweeting for 19 hours straight, his Oxford commas were lined up like sentries, and there was no mistaking his meaning when he typed out syntactically-correct beauties like “Nips have a single letter for every concept imaginable. If you go to Sonic and they forget your Coney, there’s a specific Jap letter for that.”


Our buoyant grammatist Kincannon weighed in on a number of topics near and dear to his char-broiled little Southern heart last night. Top recent tweets included such fine thoughts as a tutorial on the body temperature of the Mayor of Atlanta in bad weather (“Black folks actually freeze at 53 degrees instead of 32.”); why sexist language doesn’t exist (“Your problem is that you think saying snarky, catty things about a woman is sexist. If it was, EVERY WOMAN WOULD BE A SEXIST.”); the qualifications of government employees outside of his home state of South Carolina (“In other states it’s like they try to hire complete retards for government positions.”); and Satan’s personal party of choice and why Kincannon’s again’ it: (“Satan wants Progressives elected. I’m going to do everything lawful to stop that. If God deems me overzealous, so?”).

The South Carolina GOP must be so proud of their native son.


Here’s the thing: Kincannon knows he’s on Twitter to make his mud, and he openly views himself as the point-man, taking a hit for the good of the misguided GOP. (He’s got plenty of ideas of how to help fix you, GOP, so go and read his thoughts on your leadership. Eye-openers, all of ’em.) It takes a real saint to call Wendy Davis a whore, and a true pundit who can come back with show-stoppers like “I’m married, retard. To a smoking hot chick.”

Maybe Kincannon set his sights lower after being swiftly moved out of his primo appointment as Executive Director for the SCGOP. Maybe he’s taking the long view of his political prospects. At any rate, Kincannon spends most nights sitting in the dark on Twitter, like Colonel Kurtz in Apocalypse Now** as played by Huckleberry Hound. On Twitter, he calls himself “the honey badger of American Politics”— and that sounds about right. Kincannon’s some kind of animal for sure. He’s the kind that shouts its mouth off, but doesn’t do jack-shit.





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NOTES:


*Athwhat does that word mean? Athwart: 1. From side-to-side, angled. 2. Perverse and oppositional.


**Not actually as off-topic as I would have thought. Listen, if your English teacher didn’t walk you through “Heart of Darkness,” give it a crack, won’t you? There’s some genuine reasons, plural, Francis Ford Coppola was inspired to create “Apocalypse Now” from Joseph Conrad’s super-spooky novella about the bad-awful behavior of Belgian imperialists in the Congo. (Go cheap, if you buy a copy. You’re gonna wanna mark that thing up with notes.)

CREATIVE CONSULTANT for this editorial: Phillip Lozano