text:
One of those things that I always figured I'd do when I was bored and had scads of free time, which, you know, I'm just swimming in with my three kids and houseful of pets, was to learn to decorate cakes.
I somehow forgot when I was hatching my Great Plan, that I have absolutely no eye for detail and have about as much fine motor skill as my poo-eating dog. But yes, in my head, I was going to be the next star baker.
Just like I was going to be the next Rembrandt, Britney Spears, and uh, Martha Stewart, because all of those plans were SO SUCCESSFUL.
But when I saw that I could buy something that fit my "I never got an EZ Bake Oven" fix AND test my prowess as a Master Cake Baker, I was all over it. (if you have no idea what I'm talking about, go here)(then come back)(and you should know that I do love me some Pioneer Woman)
Really, I didn't see how I could go wrong. Except that a 29-year-old woman with a full kitchen of her own had bought a toy cake bakery. That seems all kinds of wrong when you put it THAT way.
But let's not dwell on the negative here, Internet!
Microwaving, AWWW YEAH!
Now, see, THAT is the kind of cooking I can do. Short and sweet. None of those wonky STEPS that I can misconstrue or FORGET because I've accidentally wandered off to see what happens when I put the cat in a box.
While I don't know why someone would want a pamphlet of "DUFF" inside a box clearly marketed for children, I suppose that is neither here nor there. He seems a little, uh, CREEPY and vapid, doesn't he? (I know he's on the Ace of Cakes)
No accounting for taste, I guess. Which is why you read my blog.
While shit, man, that's waaaay too many instructions. I don't need to read instructions. Those are for sissies.
Why, isn't that perfectly darling? A wee cake decorating set! I can't figure out what most of the doo-hickies are for, but, you know, I AM READY TO LEARN. Providing I don't have to READ WORDS and FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS.
Well, THAT is fancy-pants. It's either a toothbrush holder…or a sex toy. Kind of advanced for children.
If parents can get outraged by the Fresh Beat Band, why not providing our children SEX TOYS!!1!! OH THE HUMANITY!!
Guess you know what I'll wander off to do.
Here we go, with some mother-humping yellow cake. That's wicked yellow and I stirred it approximately 4.3 times before it was mixed thoroughly. Because that is the way I make cake, bitches.
Well, now, here I have expertly poured two thimbles of cake into the microwave pan where I shall bake it for exactly 30 seconds. How can this be bad?
(cue ominous music)
Well. That…uh, looks appetizing. It's really a shame that I can't make this blog post scratch and sniff, because this smells like burning hair.
nom nom nom SOYLENT GREEN nom nom nom.
The Soylent Green patties are, I should note, about the size that one might expect to feed a wee field mouse. I am holding my lens cap up for perspective.
Cue the old joke… "the food was so bad….And there was so little of it!"
In an effort to cover up the horrible yellow color of the cake, I have chosen blue as my fondant color. Note my expert mixing technique. I should probably get a medal from the Mixing Olympics.
This fondant looks like a pile of, well, blue…poo.
I'm certain that I can roll it out and make it look better.
Oh. Well. Um.
Maybe I should have read the directions.
I know, I'll read them now!
Okay, that looks NOTHING like what I've got.
Uh. Well. I KNOW. NEXT STEP.
Icing. I can cover this with icing. THAT'S ALL. I bet it'll look as good as new in NO TIME.
That looks a lot like we're about to artificially inseminate something. WICKED.
My pre-iced cake on it's pretty little platform. Doesn't it look like, well, someone with no thumbs decorated it?
Scratch that. People without thumbs could do better. BLIND people without thumbs could do better.
Aunt Becky's Weapon of Mass Destruction. The ICING GUN. Prepare to meet your MAKER.
Uh. WHOOPS.
I genuinely do not know what I did wrong here. It appears as though my icing gun misfired.
(cue inappropriate jokes)
UGLY CAKE, PREPARE TO MEET YOUR MAKER, uh, PART II.
Awww! Lookit my whimsical, drippy heart! With some balls thrown on it for good measure. Because everything is made better with colorful balls and icing.
(go ahead)(make your jokes, people)
Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the reason that you do not want me to cook when you come to my house. THIS is the reason that I order takeout.
Because while this appears to have been done for comedic value, it actually was not. This was genuinely the best that I could do.
I'm pretty sure my poo eating dog could have done better.
145 Responses to In The Kitchen With Aunt Becky
LMAO – I do so love your photo blogs!!!
Last Christmas, I got my 5 year old the Cupcake Maker, as she HADDDD to HAVVVVE it. Yeah. We made cupcakes once, and they tasted liked baked ass. They did look slightly better than your blue confection though.
I have to ask…did you eat it?
So, the question remains: did it also taste like burnt hair?
This is pretty much what any of my own baking experiments turn out like, kid-themed bakeware or not.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OMG! That is hysterical! That is one tiny cake. I never make layer cakes because I am not capable of doing more than a single layer of icing. I can't get the second cake to line up on the bottom one & Then I can't manage to ice the sides without getting cake crumbs in everything.
Betty Crocker sheet cake all the way in my house
Put the cooked, cooled layers of cake in the freezer before icing. For like, a half hour. Just so the outside is kinda hard-ish (so technical here, bwuahaha) and doesn't crumb like crazy. Then ice each layer individually on it's own piece of wax paper, so it doesn't get stuck to a plate or some shit. Freeze again, to harden the outside of the icing into NOT gooping off when you try sliding shit around. Don't worry, the freezing hurts nothing. Professional bakeries do it all the time, especially in hotter climates so their cakes don't look like ass when the icing runs. When fully assembled, store covered (do not let anything touch the icing, or it will be a nasty goopy mess thanks to condensation) in the fridge until ready to serve. I forget when my grandmother said to decorate… before or after the icing thaws. I'll have to ask her.
(Did I mention she did cakes, like, professionally? For years? So I swear my info's good. Hand to god… er, my grandmother. Actually, I think I'd take that vow more seriously. O.o My grams is scary, yo.)
Some people bake. Other people write funny blogs. It's okay not to be able to do both. 🙂
LMFAO! I have this huuuge to-do list, but you keep tempting me with your blog pages!! I found you after looking at the bloggie awards..had to open your page..read one article i so voted for you! lol now ive spent half the morning reading your blog!! shame on you! OH & im following you on twitter & tweeting about you..so others are just as distracted as I am! LOL
Seriously though..cake decorating is hard. I cant do it. thats why i have friends make my kids cakes LOL i DID have an easy bake oven..i usually just ate the batter..coz wtf can expect a child to wait an HOUR for a LIGHTBULB to cook a damned cake. seriously?! uhm no. i think your cake came out looking pretty good..all things considered! id have read the directions..and then my cake would have looked worse! lol so reading directions doesnt always equal doing it right lol but i NEED to know..did you dare to eat it? or feed it to the dog? have you ever cooked something that the dog took one sniff, licked, and then sat down and started licking his butt to get the taste out of his mouth? i have. dh teases me constantly about it. bastard. ok..thats all. back to sneezing my head off, wetting myself & working on well.."work" stuff 🙂
wow, that was one long comment..sorry lol
seriously frickin' hilarious!
Now I want to go buy my own cake making kit. Dammit!
I'd still have eaten it! 🙂
that's no sex toy, aunt becky. it's the tampon holder my mom gave me when i was 11. too funny!!!!!
I'm officially confused. I thought you were a cupcake baking mad genius. Am I deep in the throes of an unsuspecting heroin withdrawl? Help me out here 'cause my brain tells me things and I think they're lies.
You really should submit this to Cake Wrecks…and no I'm not making fun of you, as my cake baking skills are probably far worse. Thanks for making me laugh this morning.
Oh my goodness. I'm so glad I peed before I read your post.
Like others, I want to know what it tastes like (if you tried it).
I tried baking something new last week and I spent most of the time laughing maniacally. It was all I could do — that and telling myself just to keep on going.
When I was a kid, my mother would never get me an Easy Bake Oven, I think it was on my Christmas list for 5 years. I think that I was scarred for life over that it. As soon as my oldest was old enough I bought it. We made 5 cakes in one day and never used the stupid thing again. No wonder my mom wouldn't buy it for me.
This had me laughing out loud at work!!! Awesome cake.
Suddenly a rainy monday at work just got way funnier.
Tiny cake in a microwave, gross. Your blog, hilarious.
Maybe I will go home after work and bake . . .
You bake with tampons?
This was the present that was to rock all others. Christmas Eve, Zoe (age 6) is all "let's make cupcakes", I am all "heck yea!", 30 mins later both of us were covered in goo, trying to poke the the now drying cement out of the spinning cupcake thingy, we gave up. Now it sits on top of the fridge waiting for the day that we both forget how unbelievably so not "full of the awesome" it is and bring it back down to play. Which with our attention span was last week, and guess what? it still spewed thick pink icing all over us. We will try again
Hmmm. Duff is endorsing cake that can be made in the microwave.
Maybe I sould call my friend in Baltimore and tell her it's probably a good thing she didn't spend $5,000 on her wedding cake to get it done by him.
Sweetie, I feel your pain. I once tried to take a glass blowing class. I envisioned my masterpieces. (shit- at least recognizable figures) I tried to make shot glasses. OY. Couldn't exactly give those out as gifts.
I have seen ace of cakes and I like cake boss better.
I think you did a swell job. You don't have all the fancy schmansy equipment the shows have.
I'd eat your cake (no dirty joke intended. Really.)
Besides, anything more than a mouthful is a waste, and probably more than I could handle LOL!
Thank you, thank you. I am so glad that somebody else makes cakes as, um, lovely, as my own creations.
I would totally say your son made it. Or say you were high. Depends on the audience, I guess.
I mean only love, only love.
I lost it when I read "It's either a toothbrush holder…or a sex toy." and I didn't stop laughing through the end of the post. Thanks for the laughs.
(go ahead)(make your jokes, people)
C'mon, Becky, at least make it a challenge.
Oh, and…you gonna eat that? (End vague reference to high school lunchroom mooching).
Rock on Aunt Becky. Making Monday mornings everywhere fun and hilarious. That cake is just full of the Awesome. You have some serious talent, for wrecking cakes that is! I had an easy bake oven when I was little, but I don't think it contributed to my baking skills as an adult, so you have not missed out, really. I can bake a mean apple pie, cheesecake, just about anything sweet and fattening. I don't try to get all decorative and artsy though. I'm good with just yummy tasting. And since our grocery store (Publix) makes such amazing cake (my mouth is now watering just thinking of it), I never even bother trying. I'd rather order theirs. Speaking of which, countdown to my son's b-day party (a chance to shamelessly eat tons of the sugary goodness), less than 2 weeks!!! Yay!
Oh Em Gee, that is rad!! Your cake.. um, rules! I'm pretty sure you were supposed to roll out the blue poo with the sex toy, but whatevs. This might beat the microwave Thai food post.
This is all an intricate cover-up for the great smurf massacre that happened in your microwave last night, isn't it?
This is hilarious! First of all Duff does look like a perv. Second of all, my daughter got an easy bake cake icing kit and it looks just like this. I got all pissed off at it (grew impatient when I realized I had to read instructions too) and made the hubs help her with it while I took photos (which he enjoyed just a wee bit too much methinks).
The blue smurf poo pic? Priceless.
Next time? Use your money to buy sex toys. Ahem.
Between the cake dildo, the pile of blue poo, and the icing inseminator, I nearly wet myself.
If nothing else, the tiny cake set provides hours of entertainment for your loyal minions!
It looks like you had fun at least, though…right…you had fun?? Maybe??
I totally got one of these for my daugter for Christmas and we made one the day after… oMG it was horrible! I did get the frosting squirter working after like 20 mins but how the F was that supposed to be fondant? and did you taste it?? She wouldn't even eat and she's 3! lol
ahh well…. she did have fun ahha
Is it too late to nominate you for "best cooking blog"?
Now you need to attempt to re-create that cake using all your big kid tools.
Really?! I mean REALLY?! This made my week. There might be somewhat less telnted than me in the baking department and there is actual photgraphic evidence to prove. Where were you last week for my husband's birthday. I could have used your help.
thank you for letting me live vicariously through your experiences, on more than one occasion i have been tempted to buy one of those because i never had an ezbake oven either! and just for your information, mine would not have turned out any better..you my friend…have talent!
I don't have time to read the entire thing, but those pics have left me laughing my ass off. I laughed harder and louder as I scrolled down. Too funny, the cake looks fabulous … 😉
Oh. My. God.
And I know now that I don't need dessert after lunch, because that took care of any desire for cake I could ever have.
I am sitting at work crying from reading this. You really have a way with words! Not so much with baking though. Did you ever find out what the sex toy was actually for?
Thank you for making me laugh like a loon at work! (Fortunately, no one is around to notice.) That was hilarious. And your little cake is really rather adorable. (I don't do cake-decorating either. Other baking, sure. Cake decorating–nuh-uh. Just frosting cupcakes annoys me.)
And OMG–The Pioneer Woman! I have been looking at her recipes for only a few minutes and I already want to make them ALL. Plus, her step-by-step photo-illustrated instructions are AWESOME. You have enriched my life with that link! 🙂
Oh dear.
Dear, Sweet Baby Jeebus.
That kit is simply…wrong. I mean, sure, sex toys and cake can go together (???) but not FOR THE CHILDREN!
I would like to tell you that the next time I see you I will totally help you master the whole cake decorating thing, but um, did you SEE my leaning tower of caramel cake that I ended up making? 'Twas not my finest hour. Which is why I just make cupcakes now and stuff the frosting in the middle because no one really cares what it looks like then. THEY'RE ALL JUST AFTER THE SUGAR HIGH.
Holy crap that looks like Play-Doh!
OMFG! Bwaahhahahah!!
Poor Aunt Becky …. I blame your parents for denying you the tools necessary (i.e. Easy Bake Oven) that would have supported your career as an all-star pastry chef.
It's sad really.
So sad I'm going to crack open a 40 oz. of Old English and pour some on the ground out of respect for the death of your cake baking skills. I got your back, yo.
Come on, fess up! Amelia made that, right?
Oh, so good. I snorted through the post and I only snort when something's hysterical.
I, too, love the Pioneer Woman so much. The only thing is when I go to her site, with her photography and her livestock herding and her redecorating and her cooking and not to mention, snagging a hot cowboy, I feel like a total loser. But, then I come here and look, look what you do! You make that cake and I feel a tad bit better about myself. Thanks, Becky!
I am soooo sorry to laugh at you, but I am tearing up right now. I have never seen a sorrier cake, but thank the heavens that you can blog like its nobodys businees. Some talents are totally unnecessary anyways!!! Besides, just think of all the people that would hassle you to bake their cakes if it actually looked good?? Whew!! dodged that bullet.
Haha – at least you tried though! Mine would look exactly like that, if not worse.
Blame your lack of an EZ Bake Oven for your lack of kitchen prowess. I find that's a safe thing to do…
But, while I am sorry this kit shattered your cake decorating dreams, I'm glad you shared it with us, because I needed a laugh.
I don't do directions either. I think they're a waste of time until after the fact.
God,please don't tell me you ate that!?
I was going to buy that for my niece for Christmas…now I am soooo glad I didn't.
Did it at least taste good?
I admire your willingness to admit that this was not the desired outcome. I would have "I meant to do that" and called it an "ode" to pop art, while hoping that nobody noticed that I misused the word ode.
It does have an Andy Warhol feel though doesn't it?
I'd eat it. Looks perfectly edibleish to me. Might need to drop it on the floor a few times to make it look more natural, but that's not a big deal, we'll get it done.
I convinced my mom to buy my daughter an easy bake oven for Christmas this year and she and I baked a birthday cake today for Kevin…..(ya know her dad, that guy I married). Anyway, I think I might have to post a photo of the cake that she and I made….and by saying she and I…I really mean that I made it…..and it's not much better than your cake. Oh well….So glad I had you to review it for me though, now I don't want one.
But how did it taste? I'll bet AWESOME.
I guarantee you that if I had that toy back in my food addiction days, which just ended about an hour ago and held strong until I remembered there is ice cream in the house, I'd still be in a tiny cake sugar stupor on my bedroom floor. Hell, I'd skip the cake and mainline the frosting with that fancy decorator tip!
hahahaha, when the picture of the blue goo was up, my & year old came up and said, Ugh, what's that, poo?
Gave me a good laugh!
Should send it over to Cake Wrecks!!
Damn, is it me or does that frosting look like a needle and syringe?!
You totally have to submit the pictures to cake wrecks!
Dude. We totally need to make a cook book. We would ROCK IT!!
I really want to blog now about my Barbie cake incident. Barbie ended up looking like she was being eaten by a large pink pillow covered in sprinkles. Oh and it was Mermaid Barbie, so she had a tail sticking out. I really should post a picture for the world to see. I would totally love to make cakes with you!!! 😉
PS – You had my vote at hello.
Man that is funny… but next time send me your money. I will mail you a cake 🙂
what I want to know is….did any of you eat it?!
Hilarious! My friend and I, when we were fifteen, once made a cake so bad even her dog wouldn't eat it. Ha ha ha. This should be a guest post on a food blog!
I'm a professional cake decorator and there are tears streaming down my face reading this post. My husband has just screamed from the next room to laugh a little quieter.
I recognise none of this equipment but susspect the majority of it will resurface next Christmas in a kiddies Give yourself a boob job kit.
Under the circumstances you have done a fair job and if you ever relocate to Scotland contact me, I may hire you.
Hey, I would eat it. Or at least try it. Or maybe sniff it?
Oh my god, between the pink, uh, tube and the icing firing….that was enough comedy, but well….oh honey you tried so hard and I am proud. Maybe you should see how Amelia might be able to make one?
I was TOTALLY laughing out loud at this. Someone above suggested cake wrecks – you totally HAVE to submit this! That was full of the awesome.
OMG, this post is absolutely hilarious!
Your cake looks…ummmm….pretty 😉
I thought cake wrecks was all about supposedly PROFESSIONAL bakers do this stuff.
I know you can do better Bex, I think I have seen your cupcakes. But this is hilarious in the EZ Bake oven kind of way.
Oh and the misfire thing? You are my soul sister. My mind totally went there immediately.
I just have to know: Was it eatable? Would the poo eating dog even eat it? Cause I'm thinking that if he would, then maybe you should consider catering! That's a GREAT IDEA!
ROFLMAO!! I love you 🙂
So there's one thing I can do that Super Becky Overachiever can't, hey? I made and decorated my own wedding cake and Sophie's first birthday cake, and they were goood.
You can come to my place for cake anytime. In Australia.
You have GOT TO check out cakewrecks.com (if you havn't already) – Miss Paige
Your cakes and my schlong-sporting puppy and teddy bear marshmallow lollipops would go well together. I guess this means you won't be adding a cooking show to your multi-media empire?
Awwwwwww that's totally how a cake would turn out if I made it! I'm planning on taking some classes in the near future though so hopefully that would help! Thanks for sharing this funny post hehe!
I haven't laughed so hard in a while. Fantastic post! The next time you feel like rolling fondant, skype me. I'd be happy to walk you through it!
Also – you don't need an easybake oven for microwaved cake – that's actually a really easy recipe – just pour the stuff into a coffee mug and nuke for a few minutes – pour some chocolate ganache (also very easy) over it and call it a day!
I'm no Martha, but I'm pretty decent. I'd be happy to pass on what I know. Saying that, I made my sister's (gamecockmama) wedding cake back in 2001. The dowel rod on the bottom tier fell – the hotel thought it was "melting" – (fondant does not melt) and tried to fucking Redi Whip to repair the frosting shells I piped. Oh – and since they thought it was melting, they decided to stick it in the freezer – which made the whole damn think look like it was sweating, on top of being five tiers rising at a steep angle. I refer to it as the leaning tower of fondant, and trust me – MANY flowers were used to cover up the snafus.
Was that birthday cake for me? You are so sweet I just wanna dip you in my coffee. That's saying something because my coffee cup is 1/3 sugar.
I think I went to High School with Duff.
That's some classy work! I looked at your sex toy thing and thought "tampon holder" too. I have faith that, had you read the directions, it would have been much more attractive, but I doubt it would tast better.
BTW – Betty Crocker or someone makes microwaveable cakes that are edible (if you're desperate for baked goods). They're called warm delights. Look! Now you can make dessert to go with your takeout!
That's 'taste' better. Sorry.
I would have been tempted to just eat all the packets of stuff without baking anything. Also, that "Duff Pamphlet Inside" business is just weird.
OMG! Even before the bottle of wine, you were cracking me up! As a child of the 70's who survived without an EBO,B (Easy Bake Oven, Bitches)I can so feel the need to create THE cake! Thanks for sharing your attempt (and obvious success) at grabbing the Golden Ring of baking. There is hope for us all!
Bwaahahaha! Holy crap. Ok, that cake looks….um….terrible? Please don't hate me.
And who knew that you got a vibrator AND an artificial inseminator thingy with your purchase?!?
Honestly. Your flair for photoblogging amazes me.
I can't decide whether I want you to make my birthday cake or inseminate me.
I'm guessing the former is safer.
Oh Aunt Becky… that's ummm… special.
Tell ya what; you do funny, I'll do cakes. And if you ever find yourself in southern Ontario… we can do funny cakes together!
But you can grow pretty flowers! Microwaveable cake is just wrong.
You should send that pic into Cake Wrecks just for shits and giggles, then make fun of them when they actually put it on their site.
You did NOT grow your finger nails out that long. SHIT! How do you wipe your ass or open a can of Diet Coke? You must have some strong nails, woman.
Do I dare even ASK about the razor blade?
Whoa! What are the odds? This must be a popular toy, or whatever you'd call it. I imagine that rolling pin was a pretty popular toy in a previous life, too.
My daughter just got this same set for her birthday, and I posted a picture of that rolling pin to hear people's guesses of what it was. Needless to say, no one got it right.
Your cake results don't give me high hopes for what to expect once the kids finally force me to find some C batteries to get this thing going. I mean the cake spinning machine, of course, not the "rolling pin".
Oh, you made me LAUGH!
I love it on those teevee cooking shows when they sling the icing into that squeeze bag and make it look all easy. Cuz I cannot do that. I end up with icing all over the outside of the bag and the front of me and then i cry and just eat the icing.
It's the semen-y icing heart that really puts it over the top. Yum, yum.
What you lack in baking skills, you make up for in healthy, attractive nails. So it all evens out.
I am laughing SO hard this morning, thanks to you!
You rock, Aunt Becky…long may you rule…
I LOVE Pioneer woman!
I recently "discovered" her and read thru the archives of her love life at work.
For almost two days of wasted work time.
(took me so long because actual work kept getting in the way – bastard)
I like your cake.
It reminds me of you.
In a good way.
tee hee.
Since I am 99.9% certain I could do no better – and 99.7% certain I would actually do worse! – I simply stand and applaud your effort 🙂
Congratulations on your new "easy-bake oven" kit and your courage in trying it out. Keep going!
LOL – Wow that sucks. In your defense, those NEVER come out well. My daughter desperately needed that kit. Granted, her cake looked a bit better than yours, it wasn't fit for human or animal consumption. What a let down. For some reason, I just know the EZ Bake oven was better.
I think that it looks fantastic. 😉
girl, u know u should have totally come over 2 my house! we coulda had a crash course in cake art ;0)
good try tho – did it at least taste good?
If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have too much time on your hands. I know better. Valiant effort.
Those pictures were awesome!!
Baking cakes is scary to me. That's why I stick with Costco cakes. For $15 and some change, I can get a big ass cake that is way more delish than something I could ever bake. Or decorate.
Simply Hilarious!!! Did anyone try to eat it?
This is so goddamn funny!
I hope you saved your receipt and took that mutha back!
I'm glad you did this, because I very nearly bought me one of those things.
Wow….for a second I thought I was reading your blog over at Toy With Me!!!
What is the problem with The Fresh Beats??? Seriously, parents are bichin about that show now too? Guess I need to get my shotgun out & dispose of the TV now {sigh}
Kent used to decorate cakes professionally in a bakery. Anything I do is put to shame by the things he can do. It's horrifying.
Sista, that cake is sad. Indeed, stick to blogging, because you are killing me and I needed some laughs. Off to vote.
I would eat it. It looks yummy. However, I don't think you would make it as a chef. Sorry.
So, I'm checking out who to vote for for the blogies and you win by a landslide without even having to read the others. I could not stop laughing!
I really have NEVER seen such a broken cake! You have a rare gift!
Oh my gosh, this is hysterical! I think mine would turn out the same way if that makes you feel any better! 😉
Sadly, we're cut from the same non-baking cloth. Did you see my "baking experience" post?Yah. I so understand.
Sadly, we're cut from the same non-baking cloth. Did you see my "baking experience" post?No? Well, basically: Yah. I so understand.
I'm gonna call you "Best Friend". You don't have to "Best Friend" me back. My love is THAT strong.
I am pretty sure that kit doubles as a cow inseminator. Holy hell that cake was a wreck. But funny as hell.
dude, srsly- did i miss this gem or did I coomment in a sleep deprived hazy and somehow FORGET? NO FUCKING WAY. Come to florida, I'll make you rainbow cake
Ummmm, thanks but I'll pass. When you come visit, I'll get the wife to pick up a baked good from the store. She'd do worse than you did.
I was already to say WTF kind of cake decorating is THAT, when sadly I realized that were I to attempt it myself it would most likely look just like that…. only without the blue color, cause really, blue?
Already? all ready? whatever
That was seriously one of the funniest things ever.
I'm a baker, but I have no decorating skills and mad shaky hands. But I am the cupcake queen. Seriously. My blog runneth over with cupcakes.
I'm gonna stick with your problem being the whole kit thing. Definitely.
I haven't cried that hard in a long time. I need to thank you from the bottom of my blue icing filled heart. I think you could have a great cooking blog!!
My mom wouldn't get me an Easy Bake Oven because she said I could just use the real one.
This was coming from a woman who knew the turkey was done when the smoke alarms went off.
I am now a woman who can (well, could…I'm not allowed to cook unsupervised now) set a cheesecake on fire while cooking it.
I solved the cake decorating problem by setting up a family tradition that the kids decorate their own birthday cakes.
ohhhh becky, how did i miss this???
i love your pathetic little cake. tho i want one of those sets!!!
your BBFF
I'm so glad I'm not alone in being a craptastic baker. I had to run out in the dark of night to buy me some Pillsbury sugar cookie roll up thingies when the ones I made for my kid's hippie school fundraiser turned into a disaster, even by my standards, which are nil. My mom informed me on a recent visit that I've been reading the little markings on butter packages wrong for the last 30 years and have doubled it for every recipe I've ever made. i.e. that's why my banana bread turns into a boiling pan of fat. My husband is convinced I've been trying to kill him…with butter.
Sneakily reading your blog at work. Stealth went right out the window as the pictures got worse and worse and then I read, "Because while this appears to have been done for comedic value, it actually was not. This was genuinely the best that I could do.". Awesome, just awesome. 😀
I have to say this is one of the most hilarious posts I've ever read. You have a fun, unique sense of humor that I don't see all the time. It is so great to read a blog with someone who says what they actually think without making it outrageous or overly proper.
You've got a life time subscriber lol!
The last few times I've seen Duff on TV he was judging baking challenges. One of those was a kids bakeoff challenge.
I get similar results from our Easy Bake Oven. Whoever thought that crap was easy was obviously high during product testing.


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Thw Throne, private groups? Whats the problem??
I recently started reading The Throne, and I must say I think it's effing hilarious,witty, and great if you cant be on here everyday so you can catch up on the good stuff that you might miss by not being on here everyday. But I get a little lost when they use abbreviations for things like HOIR and DL I think is anoter one. I have assumed they are groups here on CM but dont see them listed under talk/advice groups? Are those what they mean when they talk about "bitch groups"?
How do I find them and join, I just have to check one out! Do I have to join the Throne and get invited or do CM members pick them? If so what is it based on? I get some of the moms in them can be a bit crazy, mean, and or stalkerish. But its the internet and its for entertainment, why not have a little fun? As women we are all a little bitchy. Can anyone tell me how to find one? Whats your opinion of them? Do you read The Throne?
The Throne is okay ...it used to be better but lately its all about bitch groups
DI = devil's icebox
You're welcome, have fun
K, thx .Ive heard its worse than in here. Im seriously addicted to the crazy stuff people put on the internet, (myself included), its live an active ficitional novel lol.
Quoting KiKi-Love: They're under member owned groups, and are hilarious.
Quoting Anonymous: You are a fucking shitty person if you want to join those groups, but likely since you're just a member, you are already one, and are just doing this to get the group attention.

subset: commoncrawl


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National Guard (in Federal Status) and Reserve Activated as of November 6, 2012
The Army National Guard, Army Reserve, Marine Corps Reserve, Air National Guard, Air Force Reserve and Coast Guard Reserve announced this week a decrease in activated Guard members and reservists while the Navy Reserve announced an increase of activated reservists. The net collective result is 669 fewer reservists and National Guard members activated in comparison to last week.
At any given time, services may activate some units and individuals while deactivating others, making it possible for these figures to either increase or decrease. The total number currently on active duty from the Army National Guard and Army Reserve is 43,895; Navy Reserve, 4,569; Air National Guard and Air Force Reserve, 9,225; Marine Corps Reserve, 2,630; and the Coast Guard Reserve, 689. This brings the total National Guard and Reserve personnel who have been activated to 61,008, including both units and individual augmentees.
A cumulative roster of all National Guard and Reserve personnel who are currently activated may be found online at http://www.defense.gov/news/MobilizationWeeklyReport111312.pdf


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This drama club at Immaculata dates from the first years of the college and has undergone many changes through the decades. Today, the players produce two plays each year: the fall play may be either a drama or a musical and the spring play is the annual children's theatre production.
Other activities, such as reader's theatre and one-act plays, are scheduled as time permits. Students participate as writers and directors as well as actors and technical crew. The club is affiliated with Alpha Psi Omega, a national dramatic fraternity, to which members may be nominated as recognition of their activities.
The staff of dedicated and creative students strives to bring quality journalism to the community. The newspaper also now offers subscriptions for parents, alumni, and friends of Immaculata. Call (610) 647-4400 ext. 3577 for information regarding subscriptions and advertising, or to contact the staff.


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Religion And The Concrete
( Originally Published Early 1900's )
PHILOSOPHY, since Locke's day, has made a prodigious pother over the aphorism of which he, having first borrowed it from the schoolmen, made such use : " Nihil in intellectu quod non prius in sensu " (the intellect holds nothing which did not come first as an appeal to the senses). Kant, starting where Locke left off, and taking his thesis as a challenge, showed how much there was in the intellect beyond the sensuous impression ; how the external fact, on its way to us, took its entire shape and colour from the mental machinery that received it. But the Locke dictum, though, as we now see, it has to be taken under conditions and limitations, is one we all need to study, and especially those whose business is with the problems of religion. Religion is, first of all, a psychology ; to deal with it properly, either in thought or action, we need to know the laws of the realm in which it operates. And one of the chief things to be noted in this region is the relation of the senses to the soul behind. It is to the way in which the different churches have understood this relation, a good deal more than from this or that dogma they have handled, that they owe their success or their failure.
The point is this—that before we can get effectively at a man's reason or his conseience, we have to touch his senses. Our neighbour is a being who first of all sees, hears, tastes and feels. And his inner life consists in largest degree of memories, mental pictures, of things he has seen, heard, tasted and felt. The abstractions of the philosopher are a later development, quite out of range of masses of men, and even to the most cultured-as personal experiment will easily show—far less operative and powerful than the fact that impinges on the senses. Compare the impression on a man of any general proposition you can frame with the announcement to him that he is to be hanged tomorrow, or that some one has left him a fortune, and you will have the measure of the difference in psychical effect between the abstract and the concrete.
It is this simple truth, so obvious when we come to look at it, that opens to us, as by a magic " sesame," the secret of the world's religions. Man, to be impressed, must have first and foremost the concrete. The abstract is the latest term at the other end of the string. The invisible must ere we can do anything with it, be embodied in a visible. It is because of this that philosophy as such can never become a religion. Aristotle himself recognises this when, speaking of treatises on morals, he says : " The truth is they seem to have power to urge on and to excite young men of liberal minds . . . but that they have no power to persuade the multitude to what is virtuous and honourable." Your truth must become a life, be seen visibly walking about, before it can move men. The Baptist theology of the seventeenth century is at present read by no mortal ; or, at least, by very few. But that theology, incarnated in a Greatheart, a Mr. Honest, and the other characters of Bunyan's immortal dream, has been and is the delight of millions. " For truth embodied in a tale, may enter in by lowly doors." But it must be embodied. That is why abstract theisms and other intangible systems have never had, and never will have, any position amongst the religions of the world.
And this brings us to the centre of our theme. Religion, which has to deal with the highest reality, can only in this matter follow the universal law. Its truth must be embodied. But that statement spells Incarnation. It is wonderful to see how, in the twentieth century, the roads of the new science, of the new culture, are found to be leading —all of them—in one and the same direction. The central truth of the New Testament shows, in the new light of this culture, as a truth embedded in the nature of things, as inevitable to the human evolution. God could never be known to man except by a self-manifestation. What He is and means could only, human nature being what it is, be exhibited by a Life. It is curious here to note how, in the view of human spiritual development which modern research is offering us, the old controversies concerning the Divinity of Christ have lost their starting-point. The rival camps are deserted, for the world has moved on. The new conception derived from history and psychology of the whole human movement, gives us at once Christ's Divinity and Humanity as the natural expression of a cosmic process. We are here to know God and to be united with Him. And we could not have reached up to Him unless He had first reached down to us. We could not see Him unless He made Himself visible. God must come into the sphere of the concrete ere he can be apprehended of the human heart. As Ritschl puts it : " The essence of God, as it is Spirit, and Will, and especially Love, can become operative in a human Life, as man in fact is constituted for spirit, will, love." To quote Jacobi's profound word : " Nature conceals God ; man reveals Him." He is in all of us, for there could be no outside revelation unless it appealed to one within. In Christ we see this eternal idea reaching its culmination. As the great Greek Father Theodore of Mopsuestia puts it : " Jesus so perfectly appropriated the Divine as to become one with it." In Him, our 'Avat avopov, our " Divinest Symbol," as Carlyle has it, we have the Divine concreted, as much of God as humanity could contain.
But the concrete in religion is far more than a doctrinal question. It enters in the most intimate way into the Church's whole method of presenting religion to the world. As we study the history of this matter and observe the different methods of appeal to the various religious bodies, we wonder continually whether it ever occurred to their leaders that there was such a thing as a psychological law in this region, whose observance or non-observance spelt success or failure ? Where they have hit on the law seems so often to have been by sheer chance rather than by insight. It is clear, for instance, that the enormous and continued power of Rome, notwithstanding the immense and ever-growing forces against her, has been owing more than anything else to an apparently unconscious following of our law. She has held men by giving them, in every direction, the concrete. It was she who introduced the picture into the churches. Her creed, however faulty we may consider it, was at all events a concrete creed, full of clear-cut statement. What has been the fascination of her Mass ? Has it not been in the belief she created that here, in view of the humblest soul, was the God so thirsted after, made present and visible ? The problem she sets before all competing religious bodies—a tough one, it must be confessed—is to follow her method while avoiding her impossibles ; to offer a religious appeal as vivid as her own, but whose basis shall be fact and not fiction.
The Reformation Churches have been Churches of speech rather than of sign ; they have sought the soul through the ear rather than the eye. But here again we have to notice that this appeal has been effective or otherwise just in proportion as the principle of the concrete has been observed or neglected. Any one who takes the trouble to study Church eloquence—the utterances of the religious orators of all ages and their effects upon men—will always find that their power has rested largely on obedience to our law. The addresses that tell are stuffed with the concrete ; they are not abstract discussions, but live facts, live experiences, live picture. The truth they wanted to enforce had always hands and feet ; it lived and breathed before men. The early Fathers had abstractions enough, but always at one end of them there was some homely, earth-born fact. Take, for example, as one out of a thousand, this extract from Alexander of Alexandria : " They suspended Him on the tree who stretches out the earth ; they transfixed Him with nails who laid firm the foundations of the world ; they circumscribed Him who circumscribed the heavens ; they bound Him who absolves sinners ; they gave Him over to the tomb who raised the dead to life." The words remind us of Hooker, who more than a millennium later speaks thus of the sacrament : " These mysteries do as nails fasten us to His very cross ; that by them we draw out astonishing efficacy, force and virtue, even the blood of His gored side ; in the wounds of our Redeemer we there dip our tongues, we are dyed red both within and without ; our hunger is satisfied, and our thirst for ever quenched." We are discussing here, be it remembered, not the doctrine but the method. The words quoted may easily offend our taste or our philosophy, or both. The point is that they offer in religious speech the example, followed by all the great pleaders from Chrysostom to Spurgeon, of discourse in which spiritual truth is clothed in concrete forms that appeal to every man's senses and imagination.
The lessons from all this are tolerably obvious. The religion of to-day must in all its departments fill itself with the concrete. The preacher must have his grasp upon facts, upon experiences, upon life. His business is with the invisible, but unless he can turn his invisibles into visibles—condense his cloud into rain—he is of no use in the pulpit. In like manner the Church, in its collective operations, has to master the same art. It must learn to embody its aspirations, its enthusiasms, its faith, into institutions and organisms which catch the world's eye and compel its attention. The engineer builds his creed into his bridge. The Church must build hers into something as evident and as useful.
But the greatest of all concretes is man himself. He is full of mysteries, of invisibles, the secret of which he cannot fathom. The end of all the ages is there hidden within him. Could he but under-stand himself he would understand God and the Universe. He is a vast embodied idea. But the idea needs clarifying, unifying. The supreme effort of religion is to accomplish this for him. It seeks to incarnate its own spirit in him. Christianity in the creed, Christianity in the institution, are nothing in effective force compared with Christianity alive in the man. Darwin found in the South Sea Islanders, transformed by missionary effort, an argument for Christianity such as he had met nowhere in books. The Church, whatever its name be called, which succeeds best in making the New Testament faith and love concrete in human lives, will be the Church of the future.


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Discussion in 'The Black & White Gallery' started by Roger, Oct 5, 2008.
Makes me wonder why the boat is anchored there?
I love this picture
indeed, wondered that myself....thanks glad you love the picture.
i wonder who owns that boat.. mermen? lol great capture!
thanks a lot...it is strange eh'.
Great capture Roger. Cool scene.
thanks very much.
Separate names with a comma.


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April 10, 2009
Isabella Vosmikova/FOX
Hey! Where's Bruno? This isn't Dancing with the Stars!
Now THAT'S what I'm talking about!!
Previously on Dollhouse: Miss Lonelyhearts hearts Victor; Do not step to November because she will end you; The Dollhouse is real, Paul … and they have a mole inside.
Whoa! Shakey-cam and dangling wires and flashing, zappy lights! Am I watching Cloverfield? Are giant bugs going to start skittering around the Dollhouse? Oh wait, there's Topher in the background doing something sciencey. Security suits are attempting to wrestle someone into the zappy chair. Echo and Sierra, walking together through the main hall, look up and see the lights. What happened? She made a mistake. And now she's sad. Could she be speaking of November? I hope not, because I can't imagine that anything going on in that room is pleasant. Punctuate that thought with a gunshot and a splatter of blood on the opaque zappy room wall.
12 hours earlier and Madame Echo is explaining to Boyd how it's not about the pain. It's about trust – tonight's extended metaphor. Handing yourself over to another human being, fully and completely? There's nothing more beautiful. Banter banter flirt banter. And wow. Cher called from the set of the If I Could Turn Back Time video. She wants her look back. Slacks, maybe? Just a thought. Anyhoo, they pull up to the Dollhouse just as Victor – or, Roger – is setting off for his tenth engagement with Miss Lonelyhearts. Boyd and Handler Ramirez discuss the beauty of love in one's golden years, and Roger reveals that Ramirez secretly wants to be carried off by a pirate. Madame Echo says she knows a guy. Heh.
Echo is finishing up her treatment, this time with Ivy, and it seems to be more painful than usual, as she cries out involuntarily. From deep in the guts of the Imprintotron-2000 Topher begins critiquing Ivy's zappy chair-side manner. The post-imprint script may seem inconsequential, but as it's the first thing an Active hears, it's got to be pleasant. Not so – Dom – as he abruptly enters the room, and curtly tells Echo to get out of the chair, and informs Topher that he's behind schedule. He doesn't really care that Topher is still trying to repair the damage that Shotgun Caroline caused last week. Not his problem. Fix it!.
Dom gently – well, gently for him – tells Echo to get to her appointment with Fred and walks off to talk to DeWitt. His mood instantly shifts – for the better – as he reports that everything is under control. DeWitt expects him to keep it that way while she's gone. Seems she's been called in to the principal's office to account for the ongoing imbalance in the House. But hey! Maybe it's not so bad! Maybe there will be cake! Dom tries to put a spin on things by saying that not everything that has happened was her fault. She disagrees – she's responsible for everything that happens in the Dollhouse. And for the next 48 hours that responsibility is his.
This whole exchange has been observed with detached interested by Echo, who slowly makes her way downstairs. Boyd comes in to Fred's office just as she's completing her post engagement exam of Echo. He's worried that things might have gotten a little rough in the field. But isn't that the point of being a dominatrix? They discuss the sexual nature of the Dollhouse (the place and by extension the show) and the service they provide by allowing clients to express and explore needs they would otherwise find shameful or fearful. Not having that release can be debilitating. Boyd continues his prodding of Fred from last week, saying she's got the pitch down. She could fill in for DeWitt. Fred replies that she thinks the system is flawed, maybe irreparably, but not for the same reasons he does. We don't get to hear about these reasons, as Fred suddenly realizes that Echo is still in the room, and tells her she can run along.
Boyd's antagonism towards Fred is interesting to me. He knows that she cares about the Actives, and isn't a true believer like DeWitt – despite his crack about spouting the party line. I'm inclined to think that it's less about her, and more that he's projecting his own conflicted feelings about his role in the Dollhouse. So curious about why he came there – and more importantly – why he stays.
I also have to say how glad I am that they've moved out of the one-off episodes. They're really seem to be building now on themes from week to week. They're doing it in such a way that missing a week won't impede your enjoyment of the show while rewarding regular viewers with added layers and nuance. Well played.
As Echo and Boyd leaves Fred's office, Topher comes scampering down the stairs in a mild panic. He's going to make a call to DeWitt in about 10 minutes, and if Boyd would like to take that opportunity to get some air, or you know, RUN, that would be great. Because you see, Topher found a chip in the zappy chair, and this seemingly benign chip could allow someone to access the primary imprint protocol. Which means someone could have altered the imprints. Like say, insert a secret message or have the Active say "Paul is Dead. Miss him. Miss him" when they walk backwards. Topher is growing more agitated as Boyd just cuts to the chase and breaks it down – they have a spy in the Dollhouse. Boyd appreciates that Topher came to him first, before calling DeWitt, but notes that if anyone finds out, Topher is toast. Topher figures he's up a creek either way – he calls DeWitt, she takes it out on Dom, and Dom takes it out on him. Then as though his panicked whispering and flailings were subtle, he freaks when he notices Echo waving to November, trying to get her attention. Boyd simply walks over and suggests that Echo go to her art class now. From the balcony, November asks her handler where she knows Echo from. Clearly, from behind that dangling participle. Also, huh? Is last week bleeding through again?
Echo is only half heartedly working on a bonsai tree. She's far more interested in what's going on in Topher's office. He's on the phone, agitated, and knocks on the window to get Dom's attention. There's explaining and gesturing and pointing, and even though we can't hear what's being said, you just know Topher is trying to spin how what happened isn't possible (and DRINK) and more importantly isn't his fault. Dom quickly heads downstairs where he tells two security suits to put the whole House on lockdown – no one comes or goes without his say so, no landlines, no cell phones, no network connections. But, how will they update their Facebook and Twitter accounts? Why not just send them to the Attic? It would be less cruel. Dom strides over to Sierra, snapping at her to get to her treatment. Echo watches all of this with growing interest. She follows Dom and Sierra with her eyes, and then walks upstairs as Sierra is coming out of her imprinting. She stands just beyond the door, and shows nothing but empathy for – and possibly memory of – the pain that Sierra is experiencing. Through the window she can see Dom and Topher arguing again – it's indistinct until we hear Topher turn the conversation back on Dom. It's his responsibility to make sure that everyone who works here is on their side. Dom wants to know who has access to the lab. Topher starts rattling off a list of, oh, just about everyone as he's backed into the chair. Again, shades of last week. Echo quickly walks away as Dom and Sierra walk out of the zappy room. Indistinct speaking again, and then we hear Sierra say, "I'd kill him." Toast.
Echo looks concerned as she turns and walks into the zappy room. She observes that everyone is unhappy today. Topher so does not have the patience for this. Dom was mean to him. Was he not his best? Topher replies with typical high regard for himself. He's the one who found the chip. Security is Dom's job, but if it wasn't for Topher, there would still be a security breach. He calls Dom a middle management hack, and gripes that he's mad at him for not discovering the breach before it happened. It's called protocols and QC dude. Look into it. Seriously. Have you not been watching and reading along? Your process has issues.
Topher babbles and kvetches some more, until Echo says – with complete confidence and not the least trace of sheep in her voice – "I can help you." Topher asks why she would want to, to which her reply is "Why wouldn't I?" Fair enough, but thanks. You can't help. Sure she can. You make people different. You can make me help, Echo says as she hops into the zappy zappy chair. Topher just gawps.
Imprint: November. Hello Mellie. How do you feel? While Ivy and Handler guy check the primary imprint, Mellie wanders out of the zappy room and looks out over the main hall. We Rashomon back to Topher and Boyd's earlier heated discussion, and the waving Echo. How do you know her indeed.
The "airport shuttle" drops her off at home. She walks up to her apartment, and the jingling of her keys brings a gun wielding Paul to his door. He heard a noise. Okay, might want to dial it down there a bit Paranoid McHotpants. He tells her it's not safe to talk in the hallway, as he grabs her bag and gestures (with his gun) into his apartment. Mellie tries to make a joke about the neighborhood going to pot while she was away, as Paul locks the now eleventymillion bolts and locks he's installed on his door. He tells her the Dollhouse has had him under surveillance – video and audio. You know, he should probably search Mellie's apartment as well. She tries to be the supportive girlfriend by telling him he should check, and that she's going to stay with him where she'll be safe from the … Dollhouse. Her voice trails off a bit as she walks into the living room and is confronted with a whole wall full o'cray-cray. Papers and clipping all connected by pins and different colored strings. Paul goes into full conspiracy theorist babble as he talks about what he's found – the financial and global webs connecting government and corporations at the highest levels. Including the FBI. And did he mention it's underground? Not underground like the hipster kids who listen to bands you've never heard of, but actually, physically under the ground. Underneath Los Angeles. Paul finally realizes how all of this sounds, and has enough self awareness left to reel himself back in. He apologizes to Mellie, and with a pained look on his face tells her she should go back to her mother's. But Mellie has mentally run Paul through the Barney Stinson hot-to-crazy scale, and decided that he's still a better option than Iowa and fix-ups with losers that she dated in high school. She can't run away from her life.
Paul takes a final, desperate stab at talking sense into the preternaturally calm Mellie. He's giving her an out – she should take it. He can't sleep. All he can think about is finding the Dollhouse, even though sometimes he's not even sure why he's after it anymore. Mellie says that's where she comes in. He needs someone to keep him grounded. Which starts with getting him out of this dry martini and into a hot shower. Blah blah smooch blah and then Mellie suddenly switches off. Oh no. Oh dear. Oh, poor Paul. You're either about to get a round house kick to the back of the head, or a message from someone inside the Dollhouse. Yup, it's the latter. This body belongs to a Doll. Paul tells her it's not funny, but his face says he knows it's true. She tells him her name is November, but he insists it's Mellie. He tries to blink back the emotion, saying if she's mad that he's still investigating the Dollhouse just tell him. Don't do this. But November continues. They knew it would be hard for him. She's sorry they had to deliver the news like this, but it's likely that the Dollhouse would discover they've been placing messages in their imprints. And it's the only way they could get a message to him. She explains the Dollhouse has been using November's body to spy on him for months. What was done to her was done long before Paul met Mellie. Mellie only exists because of him. Paul slowly backs away, and what little piece on happiness he had is slowly being chipped away. Now that he's removed their surveillance, they're going to rely on Mellie. Don't tell her anything, because it will get back to the Dollhouse. Paul's face is a mask of anguish as he realizes this is why Mellie came back. November wants him to understand how dangerous their technology is. She stresses again that he can't tell Mellie anything. If the Dollhouse knows he knows they will kill him. And they'll make Mellie do it. Paul doesn't believe that she could, but November isn't a regular Doll. She's a sleeper. With a flip of a switch or green flower in the vahze she can be turned into Termimellie.
The transmission is coming to a close, and November says that their person inside has been captured (o rly), and this is the last time he will hear from them through a Doll. Paul becomes frantic as he starts firing off questions. You can't just tear apart his life and not give him something! November repeats the instructions from the previous transmission. Paul needs to investigate why the Dollhouse exists. The Dollhouse deals in fantasy, but that is not their purpose. Investigate their purpose. Help me Obi-Wan. You're my only hope. Paul still won't give up. Is he on the right track? Who sent her? Sorry, November isn't imprinted with information he's not supposed to have. And remember, you must maintain the illusion.
And then suddenly Mellie is back, and the look on Paul's face is crushing, as he recoils and silently freaks the french toast out. But exerting the same iron will he's displayed so often in his investigation, he pushes the horror and revulsion down, and gets himself under control. Nothing is wrong.
Imprint: Sierra. Dom can't reach DeWitt and demands to know if Sierra is going to be able to pull it off. Not to worry – Topher threw his best secret agent bits into the build. Think happy thoughts. And now we see their argument from inside. The back and forth slap fighting over who's fault it was and who's responsibility it is to have prevented the security breach from happening in the first place. Topher just wants to know what's going to happen when DeWitt gets back. And Dom confirms that her wrath is going to rain down on him, and then he's coming after Topher.
Cut to Sierra and Dom in DeWitt's office. The target is NSA. They've been sniffing around the Dollhouse for years, and getting access to the NSA's files is their best shot at finding the spy. Sierra thinks it's a tall order – which isn't her saying she can't do it, it's her making sure Dom appreciates how awesome she's going to be when she delivers. He gives her an encryption code for their internal network, but she'll need to get inside the building. No worries. Where can a girl get changed around here?
Sydney Sierra pulls on a bobbed black wig, and suddenly we're on a train hurtling along the coast. She takes an empty seat next to a woman who could be her twin. Wait, how did they know to target THAT woman on THAT train? Oh noes! Fire in the hole! Logic bomb! Sierra asks her doppleganger if she can borrow a pen, and the woman slowly looks her up and down and gets this great "what in the who now?!" look on her face right before Sierra jabs an epipen of sleepy drugs into her thigh. Nevermind. Found one. Sierra takes the woman's ID badge and makes a photograph is her eye. At NSA HQ, her badge is scanned and "A. Saito" easily makes it past security. She walks to the elevator, and gets a meaningful glance from a man as he exits, telling someone on the other end of his cell not to worry. It's taken care of. She walks down a standard white harshly lit institutional corridor and sweet Dean I NEED those shoes she's wearing. They are fierce! She walks up to a door, slides her card, and then fishes a contact lens out of the back of her cell phone. One helpfully imprinted with the real A. Saito's retinal scan. And I thought my Palm had more functionality than I need or use. She pops the lens in, and there's hurdle number two cleared. She walks up to a security desk outside a file room, swipes her card, and punches in the Topher supplied access code. She knows the drill – 20 minutes, nothing in or out, her card will unlock the files she's cleared to see. Another quick scan of her card, and a single file drawer glides open from the wall. She quickly pulls a file out – a seemingly blank transparent sheet of plastic. She examines a small computer chip in one corner of the page, smiles, and walks out, page still in hand. She walks back through the security detector and immediately sets off the alarm. The guard slowly wands her, and Sierra quickly and efficiently delivers a smack down. In the elevator she pulls the file out of her waistband and examines it again. She tries to peel the plastic open and mumbles something about Mossad not double tagging. So I guess we're meant to infer that this is super double secret intel she's holding in her hot little hands. Sierra hurries to A. Saito's office as Action Stations! Action Stations! Set Condition One throughout the ship! This is not a drill! a security alert Code J is announced throughout the building. All employees are to return to their designated SCIF areas for level one security sweeps. Sierra's not feeling that, as she makes her way into A. Saito's office (or SATO's office, which nice continuity there SET DESIGN), logs into her computer (again, how … nevermind), and attaches a reader to the file. It flares to life as electronic data appears on the page, and you can't really see the name in real time, but it's clear if you stop at around the 23:01 mark, but you'll just have to wait. Dun dun DUN!
Name obtained, Sierra joins a crowd of NSAers on their way to their designated areas. She breaks off down a hall, and quickly calls out on her cell for a roof extraction. She heads up the stairs as the chase begins and security opens fire. She makes it to the roof as the helicopter circles and NSA closes in.
Imprint: VIctor. Roger wakes up in the chair, eager to begin his engagement with Catherine. Ivy enters as he leaves, and Topher immediately lights into her about futzing with the equipment. It's running S-L-O-W. Roger tells him to play nice – he thinks Ivy likes him. Would like to shove a juicebox where the sun don't shine is more like it. We see a moment of the exchange with Boyd and Madame Echo from earlier, and then the black van pulls up to a modest ranch home in a shady suburb. Roger tells Ramirez he'll see her at the end of the week-end. And I have to give props to Enver Gjokaj for a convincing English accent – he's got the cadence and emPHAsis down. Badly done accents are like nails on a chalk board to me – don't get me started on Jessica Lange in Hush. Woman lives 20 years in Loudon County, and she can't nail a convincing central Virginia accent? Boo! Anyhoodle, he's greeted at the door by a charming silver haired lady of a certain age. He gives her a large bouquet of flowers, and then he's back out the door and into a classic Porsche. He drives along as the sun sets and I did not see where this was going. I really thought he was going off mission to deliver another message to Paul. But no. He enters another tastefully appointed home and strides out onto a sun drenched patio to find … DEWITT! ZOMG DEWITT ENGAGED ONE OF HER OWN ACTIVES ON AN ENGAGEMENT! SHE'S MISS LONELYHEARTS!! Sorry. I'll stop yelling now. But I really did not see that coming. They embrace passionately, and DeWitt's cell starts ringing. She tells Roger that they think she's at HQ, and it could be something very urgent (*cough*) or it's Topher calling to tell her that his sweater is itchy. Roger could give her the phone back, or drop it and let the sharks talk to their own. DeWitt comments that it is a very slipper phone. She has complained about it a lot. So Roger tosses it over the side. Accidents. What can be done? He changes the subject and asks why she's trying so hard to relax. Things have been very rocky at work lately (understatement), and Roger apparently knows all about the Dollhouse, although he has a hard time wrapping his head around what they do. But at the end of the day, isn't she helping lonely people? DeWitt calls them pathetic, self deluding souls … oh Catherine. He asks her is she wants to take their conversation elsewhere … and suddenly they're reenacting the Princess Bride. You killed my father, prepare to die! Fence fence ho hah hah guard turn parry dodge spin ha thrust and then they're making the sexy time. Post coital bliss, and Roger says that if he could make a woman, he would make her. If we find out later that DeWitt herself has been a Doll this whole time my mind will be blown. She doesn't quite know how to take that statement, whether to be flattered or horrified. Roger assures her he's not serious about becoming a client of the Dollhouse. DeWitt thinks were that to happen the universe would collapse in on itself. Heh. Roger only wants the real DeWitt, and she him. Something very sad and tragic happened between DeWitt and the real Roger. She changes tack and assumes the crown of the Queen of Bitternia, observing that the progression of relationships is to first hide your flaws, then your disappointments, and finally your sins. But with Roger, she doesn't have to hide anything real. Except for the fact that he's a Doll who's been programmed to be real, as she herself so eloquently explained to the Krazy Krossbow Killer in episode 2. Roger suggests they run away together. Cash in everything they own and open a beach bar somewhere. One with no clocks, and cool local beers, and bar dogs, and plenty of phones to drop in the ocean. DeWitt allows herself to get caught up in this fantasy for just a moment, before pulling back and pulling away from Roger. She scooches to the edge of the bed, her back to him, and tells him to forget it. It can't happen. Her face is pained and she's near tears as she says this. He's exactly what she needs, but they can't have that. He just has to trust her.
Next morning, and Roger wakes to find DeWitt already up and dressed. Did she hear a noise in the house? You have no idea. She silently sits on the bed, reaches for him, and then completely breaks down, sobbing.
Imprint: Echo. She immediately hops out of the chair, and asks for personnel records, security logs for the past three months, access to the main frame, and some clothes. She can't catch a spy in her pajamas. Topher and a business-like Echo walk into DeWitt's office, where Dom is just hanging up a call. She tells him she needs to interrogate everyone on this list. Now. Dom is predictably less than enthused by this new wrinkle as Topher tells him he made Echo a spy hunter. Dom tells him it's being handled at that very moment by Sierra. Topher is aware, but see, Echo came in and she thought – Dom snaps to attention – I mean, Topher thought she could help. Echo asserts that if she's allowed to speak to the people on the list she can uncover the spy before the field agent returns. Starting with Topher. Hey, hey, hey! I'm not the spy! I discovered the spy! The spy that was operating right under my nose! Exactly. Which means Topher is either dangerously incompetent (and DRINK!) or he's trying to throw her off the trail. Dom likes where this is all heading, and with a barely concealed smirk apologizes to Topher for ever doubting his programming skills. Hee.
Interview with Topher: Why is he at the Dollhouse? Um, no brainer? Because he's the most geniusy genius that ever geniused and he's doing neuroplastic work that his grad school professors never dreamed of. Oh but, you don't really think I'm incompetent do you? You just said that for Dom's benefit, right? So it matters what other people think of you?
Interview with Ivy: Does it matter what people think? She spent eight years studying the intricacies of the brain, and what does she get to do with all that knowledge and education? Get snacks for Topher. Get yelled at when she tries to do something more. She probably knows enough about the imprint equipment to rip it down and reassemble it without Topher ever knowing. She says this with supreme self confidence … until she realizes how incriminating that statement sounds. It's alright, Echo is just trying to nail down your feelings about the Dollhouse …
Interview with Boyd: His feelings? They're pimps and killers, but in a philanthropic way. Then why, why, why are you there?? What is your story Boyd Langdon?? Echo isn't sure why, but she trusts Boyd. He smoothly replies that he must have one of those faces.
Interview with Fred: Echo has reviewed the security logs, and since the Alpha incident
Elvis Fred hasn't left the building. She feels like she can better serve the Actives if she's there. Engagements run 24-7, and so does she. You never know when there's going to be an emergency. Echo doesn't doubt Fred's intentions, but such intense devotion to her work can leave other parts of her life empty, and open to exploitation. Do you have friends outside the Dollhouse? Fred's face slowly falls as she realizes just how much the Dollhouse is costing her. She's saved by the bell, as Dom takes a call reporting that Sierra has been safely extracted and has the mole's identity. You lose.
Dom hustles a frantic Ivy (DUN!) back into DeWitt's office, trailed by Topher. It wasn't me! I didn't do anything! Why would I spy on the Dollhouse? All of those questions will be answered when Dom tortures the intel out of her, and she tells them everything. And then DeWitt will send her to the Attic. This is all said with just a touch of glee. Topher looks at Echo, silently pleading with her to fix this. It can't be Ivy.
Do you know what happens in the Attic, Ivy? Dom looks back at Topher, who looks like he might throw up as he explains it's a mental suck. You know how you can't remember a name but it's like it's on the tip of your tongue? It's like that, but with every thought. Every thought you'll never have. So it's kind of like Azkaban. The whole time, Dom is smirking down at Ivy like he's sitting in the catbird seat.
Echo is reading the file with Ivy's info on it, and asks how long? How long do you think you can keep this up? DOM? The verbal confrontation here between Dom and Echo is really fun to watch, mainly because Echo is finally the one in control of the situation. And because she put herself in this position. Well played! She knows it's Dom, because his body language is telling her a few things. When the call came in that Sierra had the mole's identity, everyone in the room got tense. Who could it be? But Dom got loose – his body breathed a big subconscious sigh of relief because he knew the file would implicate Ivy. And if pseudoscience isn't good enough for him, there's also the call placed to the NSA after he ordered the lockdown. The one made from DeWitt's office, telling them Sierra was on her way, and which file to plant. And sure maybe anyone could have snuck into the office and made that call. But 20 seconds ago Echo got the final and most damning piece of evidence she needed – 20 seconds ago Dom unsnapped his holster. DUN!
He draws and fires as Echo, Ivy, and Topher all dive for cover. Fight, fight, fight You know how far the Dollhouse reaches. Do you really think you'll get away? Dom slams Echo up against a wall and tells her to Sherlock it out. She's a Doll – a broken Doll who's gone off mission before. And when DeWitt asks him to explain himself, he'll have to tell her he had no choice but to kill Echo. Again, this is delivered with absolute delight at the very idea. So much for his big drug induced apologies of a few weeks ago. And interesting that unlike in the pilot, actually telling Echo that she's a Doll doesn't appear to have any affect on her. More fighting, and the Topher imprinted kung-fu skills allow Echo to barely hold her own, as Dom says she's dangerous. She should have been in the ground a long time ago. This causes Echo to flash back to Zion Ranch, and the last time he tried to kill her. Fight fight some more, and Echo finally gets the upper hand as Dom slips on broken glass and nearly pitches out of the building. She steadies him on the empty window frame and grits out that She's. Not. Broken.
Nighttime seaside house of love and delusion. Echo – still in the imprint of the spy catcher – plunks a handcuffed Dom into a chair. Time to pay the piper. DeWitt's face is inscrutable. She trusted him with a gift. Dom, no longer needing to keep up the facade, tells her it's no gift. Certainly not for all the people who have been hurt, despite all the countless people DeWitt claims to have "helped." She challenges him to name one, and he nods towards Echo – her, he says, with complete sincerity. That's funny coming from him. Dewitt walks closer and demands to know why he was sent to bring down the Dollhouse. What can the NSA do with it? Dom seems a bit confused by the question, like why isn't she getting it? He says he was sent to keep DeWitt from bringing herself down. He kept Paul Ballard off of them, and never lied to her about his methods or his priorities. Does she have any idea what the world will be like when Rossum lets the Dollhouse slip away? The technology needs to be reigned in and controlled. Yeah, I'll refer you to every sci-fi book and movie ever created to know how that turns out. Uncorking the genie is easy. Stuffing it back into its bottle can get a little tricky. Dom calls DeWitt out for being naive, and for actually believing in the Dollhouse's mission. She believed in him, and look how that played out. Oooh, burn! DeWitt tells Echo – who's been standing by silently the whole time – to get what she can out of him about the NSA and have Topher prep him for the Attic.
Dom seems a little offended that this is all he's getting out of DeWitt. After all they've been through she's just going to sign off on a death warrant like its a business transaction? DeWitt asks if he expected her to show mercy. Or rage. Three years by her side, he should know her better than that. She walks away, presumably to collapse on Roger's shoulder.
Really nice work from Olivia Williams and Reed Diamond in this scene. I have HATED Dom for most of the show, but I actually felt sympathy for him here. Especially in acknowledging how the Actives are the ones who are harmed the most. Echo's greatest liability to him may have been in forcing him to see her as a person. How could he continue his mission of protecting the Dollhouse – for whatever reason – if people are involved? Not just empty shells?
Echo and Dom, heading back to the Dollhouse. Dom is still cuffed, and splayed against the back of the van. Echo points out that for what's in store for him, he doesn't have much to smile about. He says that after she beats him to a pulp they're going to erase him. But first, they're going to erase her. Echo says she can take care of herself. Dom replies that he knows … that's why he smiling. Because one day she'll be erasing them. And even after all this, they still won't see it coming. Sooner or later, everybody gets theirs. Farewell Dom. You turned out to be more complex than I though, and made me like you just a tiny bit more in the last 8 minutes. Well played.
And now we come full circle, back where we started in the Cloverfield room. Dom struggles and yells through his gag as Topher and Ivy prep for the wipe, and a phalanx of security suits wrestle him into the chair. DeWitt and Boyd stand off to the side – she observing, he turned away. Dom manages to grab a gun from one of the suits, and seems to try and point it at his temple. Instead, in the struggle, he puts one through DeWitt's gut. Boyd rushes to help her, but DeWitt is all 'it's just a scratch" and tells them to get on with it. Topher and Ivy technobabble as the chair spins up. With one last shared look, DeWitt says, "Do it". Commence with the zapping and screaming, and screaming and zapping. And then Dom's body goes slack and a shaken and bleeding DeWitt walks out of the room, only just holding it together. On the main floor, Sierra and Echo look up at her. She made a mistake. Now she's sad. Topher walks out holding the disc drive containing Dom by two fingers, like it's too hot – or dangerous – to get too close to. He offers her the unabridged Lawrence Dominic. DeWitt tells him to lose it in the archives.
Topher tries to point out that she still has a bleeding
through and through GSW (all of my medical knowledge comes from Seasons 1-5 of ER) but she'd much rather analyze what just happened. How did she not see this coming? Topher tries to tell her that no one did, but she cuts him off. Clearly he saw enough to imprint Echo as an investigator. In an uncharacteristic show of humility, Topher gives due credit – he tells a shocked DeWitt that Echo herself came to him, and asked to be imprinted. DeWitt realizes that Echo was aware of Dom's in for her – and removed the threat to herself. Topher says she's still evolving – that Fred's wish fulfillment exercise didn't fulfill anything. He asks if he should wipe her again, and DeWitt gives that suggestion an emphatic No. Echo just saved the Dollhouse. She tells him instead to keep an eye on her – Echo might be useful to them in ways they haven't yet realized. It will remain to be seen whether DeWitt just saved the Dollhouse, or signed it's ultimate death warrant.
She finally reports to Fred for a stitch up (sans anesthetic), who tries to offer a little grief counseling as well. DeWitt corrects the statement that she and Dom were close – he was an employee with whom she worked closely. There's a difference. Fred tries a different tack – telling her it's alright to feel something. But that would imply she had lost something. And it's nothing she can't live without.
Boyd walks in and reports that he's completed a full security sweep, new background checks are in the works, and the situation seems to be contained. It appears that things began and ended with Dom. DeWitt immediately promotes Boyd to Head of Security (see, never be a can-doer. It just means more work, and more problems), which he attempts to decline. He would prefer to continue working with Echo. He needs to take care of her ( … interesting …). To which DeWitt replies that apparently he doesn't. It seems she is the one taking care of them.
Back in the chair, and oh noes! Echo is getting imprinted to a new handler. Poor Boyd. Echo, meet your new handler. His name is Travis. And sweet mother of Dean that is some unfortunate facial hair on that kid. That 'stache is in the dictionary next to CREE. PEE. Bad 'Stache begins the handlers script. Everything's going to be alright. Now that you're here. Do you trust me? There's a long, long moment, and as Travis asks again – Do you trust me? – Echo replies "with my life." But she's looking at Boyd.
Okay, so we've gotten a ton of information the last few weeks, and this show better not get cancelled before they answer some of the new questions that have been raised. Just how many groups are working against the Dollhouse? Mellie told Paul that the inside person had been captured – but I'm pretty sure she was at Paul's when the lockdown occurred. So Dom's wasn't the insider – at least, not that insider. So who was it? And how will "they" contact Paul in the future? Is Mellie's secondary protocol set to time release? Will she reveal more intel to Paul as the situation calls for it?
We also learned alot about the Attic tonight – yay! – and I hope they continue to discuss and explore it. Was the box DeWitt mentioned ("Then we'll put you back in your box") literal or just a metaphor? Are people who have been wiped still functional, or does it put them into some sort of vegetative state. And for how long? And my biggest question – is a subject told about the Attic during recruitment? DeWitt and Topher have both insisted that the Actives all volunteered, but this puts their consent – such as it is – into a whole new light. Do they know that DeWitt can essentially "void" their contract, and take their lives away from them? Permanently? If not, it makes DeWitt and the Dollhouse even more despicable … if such a thing is possible.
There were also some really nice performances tonight, as mentioned throughout, and I get the sense that the performers are gelling into an ensemble. Boyd and Fred, Boyd and Echo (okay, Boyd and pretty much anybody), Paul and Mellie (really enjoyed Tahmoh this week, even if he was fully clothed), and Olivia Williams, always.
And in other Joss Whedon news, he was recently asked who would win in a fight between Buffy Summers and River Tam. He never really answered, but I think you have to give it to River. She can kill you with her brain.
We're off a week while Prison Break takes Dollhouse's time slot (really? That show is still on? There are only so many prisons in the world). Dollhouse will return (hopefully) on April 24.
Grr. Argh. Dollhouse airs (usually) Fridays at 8:00 pm on Fox.


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Top teachers vent over Ducey signing voucher bill
Five current and former Arizona teachers of the year told Gov. Doug Ducey today that they feel betrayed after he signed an expansion of vouchers last week.


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We have long covered shipping container homes. There are some great stories of people using shipping containers to make beautiful modern homes. Or using shipping containers as a room within a larger space. Here you will find discussions, images, and hopefully, inspiration for the next time you see a shipping container for sale.
Sign up for the Dwell Daily Newsletter and never miss our new features, photos, home tours, stories, and more.


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Florida Regional Workforce Boards
Florida's 24 Regional Workforce Boards (RWBs) provide job placement and recruitment assistance as well as funding for skills training directly to Florida businesses and job seekers through the nearly 100 career centers located across the state. Each region determines what workforce services are most needed to support employment and training and keep local economies going strong.
To access the career center closest to you, contact the RWB in your area. They are eager to get you connected with your best career.


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Earth Milk: Scrumptious Non-Dairy Milks, Creamers, And Shakes That Are Good For You And The Earth by Deb Gleason
English | Dec. 27, 2015 | ASIN: B019W1EL98 | 70 Pages | MOBI | zero.1MB
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text: briantopp 0 Posted June 14, 2014 Hi, my current wipers are leaving smears across the windscreen so I purchased some Bosch Aerotwin A310S blades as they appeared to fit my 2010 C-Max. I've gone to replace them and run into a problem so wondered if anyone could help. The car has a sidelock fitting and the Bosch website states that the A310S blades come pre-assembled with a "multi-clip adaptor" that is compatible with this fitting, the problem is that I can't work out how to get them to fit. Has anybody got any experience of these blades (or the Aerotwin range) who can offer an idiots guide on how to fit them please? I've attached two pictures as well, one shows the adaptor as it comes out of the box and the second is with the casing removed (if that makes sense). Many thanks in advance. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites


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In another trip down memory lane, Maurice and I went to another place that we had been to years ago when we first met. It's a place called the Oasis which is situated high over Lake Travis and known as the sunset capitol of the world. It is a great place to have a drink and watch the sun go down.
The entry. It used to have a rather funky ambiance as I recall but was rebuilt and freshened up after a lightening strike.
My cocktail. I got to take the glass home.
I thought this boat looked pretty on the water and the light was great.
View as we left. This place is ennormous with five or six huge terraces.


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"Improving" Divisadero: an interim report
Labels: Divisadero
Rob Anderson's commentary on San Francisco politics from District 5
Labels: Divisadero
Why "dangerous"?
It's an aesthetic danger, as the post made clear. See Octavia Blvd. for the tacky street furniture and the faux-antique light fixtures. This is where the "improvements" can go badly wrong, an attempt to make Divisadero look like suburban cul-de-sac.
Hire some Punks with Spray Cans to put graffiti on the street furniture. Then it will look like Divisadero again!
Things I've learned from different neighborhood professionals are the unintended consequences of "aesthetic improvements".
1. Planter boxes and large tree pots make excellent drug drop locations.
2. Decaying plants bring insects, which in turn attract pigeons.
3. Muggers have an easier time when they can approach victims unnoticed, and additional street features like benches, plants and garbage cans help potential muggers (and keep in mind people get mugged during the day as well as when it is dark out).
4. Waiting in some bus shelters is really hard, because you can still be blown away by the wind (and the noise level from cars is higher) if it is designed badly.
San Francisco has done a great deal of street planting in recent years. Some trees have done wonderfully, and others look really bad.
I think it would be wise for the City to step back a bit and assess hasn't really worked before spending any more many on any more. In particular:
1. Is there a pronounced increase in street crime as a result of the improvements, or less? Are there any design "dos and don'ts" that the latest round can shed any light on?
2. Are there places where the wrong tree type was used?
3. What trees work better in windy areas, and wouldn't using those be better than tying unsuitable trees to wooden poles so that they don't fall over?
4. How best can we provide a bus shelter for the prevailing wind pattern at that exact location, so that passengers aren't blasted by cold air while they wait?
Interesting that San Francisco's #1 advocate of the private car is worried about "suburbanizing" Divisadero.
No amount of chintzy street furniture will suburbanize a street. Enough free parking probably will, though.
I have to admit, the new pavement is lovely. Feels so good on my bike... OH YEAHHHHH
I don't "advocate" cars; I just think it's stupid to make city traffic worse than it has to be for cars, trucks, buses, and emergency vehicles. Maybe crappy street furniture and light standards won't "suburbanize" Diviz, but they will make it look crappy.
"I don't "advocate" cars; I just think it's stupid to make city traffic worse than it has to be for cars, trucks, buses, and emergency vehicles."
It's already worse than it has to be.
Divis already "looks crappy"...some trees and a few benches are hardly about to change that.
I disagree. Once all the "improvements" are in place, Diviz will look crappy in a phony way, with the faux-antique street lights, and the excessive planting in the median and at the intersections, as if planting a bunch of trees can substitute for a real sense of what the street is about. The city has repaved the street, and now it should leave it alone.
So basically you don't like trees.


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We Need Smith = We Need Anglos?
The new political interest group We Need Smith is thick with normative narratives – stories that seek to tell us what's ordinary for Americans, and reflecting a troubled and confused relationship with this cultural identity.
On the one hand, We Need Smith seems to reject the normative American identity, as reflected through our democratic process. The shadowy group rejects the legitimacy of the leaders that American voters have chosen to represent them at the national level. In this sense, We Need Smith appears to be seeking to promote unusual, even conspicuously unpopular political ideas, writing that it opposes "the usual politics, the usual politicians, and the usual interest groups".
However, underneath this first blush of defiance of normal politics, We Need Smith proposes to grab political power for a specific group: Normal Americans. We Need Smith promises to support only "leaders from mainstream America", electing politicians who come from "the real America".
What is mainstream America? It's the America of the majority. Apparently, We Need Smith doesn't intend to incorporate minorities into its political movement. If you are outside of the mainstream, you won't be welcome in We Need Smith.
What is the real America? The very concept suggests the existence of a phony America – created by groups of people who pretend to be American but aren't authentically American. They're pretenders to the American identity, who must be rejected, and not allowed to have a say in the American political system
We Need Smith, this new political organization insists, and seeks to collect Smiths as supporters. But, what is a Smith, and what if you aren't a Smith?
The political concept of Smith has a very culturally-specific history in the United States. It's a history of white political power, and even more particularly, the power of English-speaking Americans of Anglo ancestry. This Anglocentric cultural narrative of has many manifestations, including the legends of Plymouth Rock, placing colonists of English ancestry at the center of American identity, even though the thirteen colonies were culturally diverse, holding people speaking many different languages, carrying names from many nations of origin. It's carried by the members of the Mayflower Society, who seek to establish their value as Americans by proving ancestral connection to English colonists who came to North America aboard the Mayflower.
Despite the cultural diversity of the American colonies at the time of the Revolution of 1776, the idea that people of English descent are "real Americans" has been pervasive. It was particularly strong in 1939, when Mr. Smith Goes To Washington, the movie that We Need Smith cites as its inspiration, was released. The name of the title character, Mr. Smith, was chosen because Smith was felt to be a normal American name, unlike surnames of Americans whose ancestors came from places other than the British Isles.
Mr. Rossi Goes To Washington would not have sent this message of normalcy. Mr. Rodriguez Goes To Washington would not have been perceived as a tale of an ordinary American. Mr. Suzuki Goes To Washington would have seemed like the tale of a foreigner. Mr. Kabbah Goes To Washington would have been considered downright exotic.
When the political insiders at We Need Smith decided to use the surname Smith as a synonym for a "real American" who comes from "mainstream America", they chose to evoke the longstanding belief that people with English ancestry are at the core of the American identity, the normal people who are entitled to political power, while everyone else is an outsider who threatens "the American Dream". This Anglocentric ethnic idea is present even in the scanty political agenda of We Need Smith, which seeks to require that congressional legislation to be written "in clear English".
For the people at We Need Smith clarity and English identity seem to be one and the same. This attitude is antidemocratic, and not just because it excludes ethnic minorities. The focus from We Need Smith on adherence to mainstream normality closes off the critical thinking that is vital to effective democracy. The vague populism of the group rewards conformity, and seeks to exclude leaders who are willing to stand apart from the crowd.
The claims by We Need Smith that there is a secret cabal of mysterious elites who are culturally estranged from the authentic folk of the United States ought to be alarming to anyone who is familiar with right wing conspiracy theorists who assert the existence of an Illuminati elite that controls the machinery of political and economic power. The overlap of these new conspiracy theories with contemporary antisemitism should also serve as an additional caution: The Nazi Party of Germany in the time of Mr. Smith Goes To Washington shared the belief of We Need Smith that cultural minorities wield unjust power over the majority.
It's quite possible that the individuals behind We Need Smith have no specific intention of relying upon the creepy political appeal of xenophobic paranoia. It's possible it merely picked up references to these racist ideologies from standard American political platitudes that just so happen to be derived from unjust presumptions embedded within our nation's history. But then, even if that's the case, it's not a valid excuse.
Any new political organization ought to be leading us away from the prejudices that have dominated American politics in the past, rather than exploiting them for its own political purposes. We Need Smith fails this test.


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As your readers are no doubt aware it was my first day in the European Parliament recently, (July 2), and my first chance to stand up for the British people.
This is why I joined my fellow UKIP MEPs in turning my back when the so-called 'European anthem' was played.
I am there to represent the views of the people of the East Midlands, not to 'honour' the EU flag or anthem.
The EU elite must be challenged and made to realise the British people – and many others across Europe – want out of this wretched organisation.
It's just a shame the Tory MEPs who claim to share the concerns of the Great British public did not follow the UKIP lead.
Margot Parker
UKIP MEP for the East Midlands