The pettiness of politics amazes me. The partisan bickering, the gridlock, the big ass problem with masked wrestlers trying to conduct city business, the corruption, etc.
In a story that has been making the rounds lately, professional wrestler/promoter Skull Reaper A-Ji won election to the City Assembly in Oita, in southern Japan last month. Skull, we'll call him, who has operated and wrestled for the smaller indie promotion Freelance Team Oita since 2004, won on a platform of education reform and improved social welfare facilities.
In America, it's fairly big news when a professional wrestling personality wins public office, because let's be honest, how often does it happen? In Japan, it's not nearly as shocking. Even wrestlers still actively performing, like Skull Reaper A-Ji, have been elected to office in Japan, and higher up the ladder than City Assembly.
Hell, Skull Reaper A-Ji isn’t even the first masked Japanese politician elected at the local level. Masanori Murakawa, otherwise known as "The Great Sasuke", was elected councilor back in 2003.
But in a unique twist, before A-Ji could attend his first meeting on Monday, the council told him that his red-and-black leather Lucha Libre-style mask had to go, declaring he was violating a rule that states “a person taking the floor shall not wear items such as a hat,” and therefore was acting inappropriately by concealing his identity.
In an interview with Nishinippon Shimbun, Skull Reaper disagreed, calling the decision frustrating and claiming the mask made it easier for his constituents to approach him. “People find it easy to come up and talk to me because I have a mask on. If I take my mask off, I’m an entirely different person,” he said.
Exactly. The second picture in this column is one of the campaign posters Reaper used. Seems to me like the people of Oita decided the guy with the mask was the best one for the job. I mean, he campaigned with the mask on. He made appearances with the mask, obviously. I wonder if he debated during the race. I'm not much of a gambler, but I'm pretty willing to bet that a Japanese political debate featuring a masked wrestler would be awesome viewing after spending an hour with the clock set to 4:20.
Wearing a similar mask to Skull Reaper A-Ji, Murakawa faced much the same criticism, saying at the time he had "absolutely no intention of taking it off, no matter how much opposition there is."
Right on, and Reaper needs to take the same stance, or start dishing out inziguri kicks. Either way, this is a hell of a lot more entertaining than anything going on in our government as present.
If only facepalms could kill, we'd be short three idiots today. This is even more amusing than all the 'kidnapping' plot stories coming out about the man who would be Pope Francis I.
I mean, it is 2013, and there are still people who haven't figured out what the hell The Onion is? The only people sadder are birthers and starving Third Worlders.
Look at this meeting of the minds. First, you got someone who probably pulled off an honest typo, but that's all for naught as she is basically asking the first dumbass question- is this true?
Rocket surgeon number two tries to find daylight, presuming it must be a joke, but at any rate, it is too funny not to share and bewilder the fuck out of dimwits with.
But the guy who shared the link to begin with takes home trophy honors:
It probably is. I didn't read it. So which the fuck is it? Is it probably a joke or is it probably true? Which idiot are you attempting to answer, you idiot? More to the point, why are you even trying to answer since you wouldn't know one way or another since you didn't read the damn thing?
Moron. Absolute moron. You have no defense. Forget Pope Francis, and forget Facebook. Get thee to a library, and don't come out until you have redeemed yourself.
Interesting to me, the column I saw on the St. Louis Post-Dispatch's website, where Bill McClellan tells of Sgt. Gary Wiegert of the Metro Police, who has come under scrutiny by the department as of late, and apparently for his political efforts and/or connections.
Sgt. Wiegert, a former former president of the St. Louis Police Officers Association, is getting the hairy eyeball from Police Chief Sam Dotson over his lobbying efforts. It is not so much Wiegert's work with the St. Louis Tea Party, but rather his lobbying work with Show-Me Cannabis, a group that is pushing for the sale of marijuana in a similar regulatory setup as that of alcohol.
Chief Dotson issued a statement last Friday saying that lobbying for a pro-marijuana group by a veteran sergeant was “not what is expected of our officers,” later adding in a full statement “Sgt. Wiegert is not representing the Department. His comments are his own and not what is expected of our officers.”
The St. Louis Police Officers Association, through a spokesman, issued their own statement the same day that said Wiegert was not a current member of the association.
While it does not seem like there has been any punishment issued over the lobbying work, at least not according to the column (click the image to head there), the chief's remarks are worth noting. Sgt. Wiegert has a right to his opinion, and Chief Dotson has his right to voice displeasure with that opinion, but I'm not sure issuing a statement on behalf of the department was necessarily the best way to go with this.
I understand that police departments have a need for standards for their officers when they are representing the public, but what an officer is doing in their free time, especially when it is not only legal, but constitutionally guaranteed, is none of the chief or the department's business. At the end of the day, all the chief should be worried about is whether or not officers are doing their jobs, but by setting an implied standard, you are telling officers that even if it is legal, if the chief or the department doesn't like it, you could have problems.
I'd be real interested to see how the St. Louis Police Officers Association would have reacted if Sgt. Wiegert was still an active member of the union.
With marijuana gaining popularity with people and voters alike, tired of watching billions of dollars get flushed down the drain a year for a 4% success rate in the War on Drugs, it is hardly surprising that there would be active members of law enforcement that might be a little tired of it too. I'm sure they'd much rather be out patrolling and dealing with real crime than sitting armpit deep in paperwork because an ultimate frisbee team was taking their game to the next level.
Even if they are for the War on Drugs, I would sincerely hope they would not allow themselves to be told what they can or can't do with their time, and especially with something as important as participating in the political process. I'm not going to say I agree with police officers holding certain elected offices (although they passed a law to that effect here in Indiana starting this year), but at the same time, shouldn't they at least be allowed to fully avail themselves of the very same constitutional rights they are expected to protect and defend?
It is shit like this that makes Illinois a joke, a running joke, and puts the state in danger of being perceived as dumber than Mississippi.
With a state budget that looks like a terminal patient trying to unplug their own machine, not to mention an unfunded pension liability of over $96 billion, naturally you got a legislator coming up with stupid shit like this.
State Rep. Luis Arroyo (D-Chicago) is sponsoring a measure that would ban the sale of lion meat in the state of Illinois, which we all know is a runaway problem, thanks to the state's dense patches of jungles and massive lion population.
The actuality is Arroyo says he knows of two places he "thinks" lion meat is for sale, and that is why this bill is so crucially important. Keep in mind, Arroyo only "thinks" lion meat is being sold at the two places, which he won't name since he doesn't have a single shred of proof of any of the nonsense he's talking about.
Although, to be fair, the AP story I got this from (click the image to head there) mentions that "lion burgers are practically nonexistent on restaurant menus," so now I'm a little confused. I've seen typos on menus like "fried tenderlion," instead of "fried tenderloin," but what does the Associated Press know about dining in Illinois that Rep. Arroyo doesn't, and how awkward would that lunch meeting go to get him on the same page?
Arroyo's bill would establish penalties of up to one year in jail and a fine of $2,500 for offenders, but could be a moot point, as the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service is considering protecting African lions under the Endangered Species Act. I suppose someone should ask why they weren't already on the list, but it's not going to me, at least not in this column.
Kristina Rasmussen, vice president of the Illinois Policy Institute, was as unimpressed as I was with this, saying that “legislators have bigger issues to tame than the commercialization of lion meat. Most people would never even conceive of eating lion meat. If this is a problem — and I’m not convinced that it is — surely it can be solved by civil action and community consensus and open debate. Do we have to rush in with a law, especially when we have so many other problems right in front of our face?”
Absolutely they do. That's the whole point of this. They got nothing, and are bringing all that nothing and then some to the table when they hammer out a half-assed plan to address the pension liability. Then, right before they approve it, they will have to knock it back to a quarter-assed plan, and the only possible way this will be achieved is by holding a special session. Because their regular pay covers all this nothing crap like lion meat, but if you should be so bold as to want a problem solved, well then, that will cost you extra.
Why would the House even consider a bill written solely to solve a problem that exists in the apparently fevered imagination of some state representative who wants to be able to say he introduced some kind of legislation to say he was looking out for the safety of the people, or the animals, or the reputation of of all the restaurants in town with a 'C' grade in the window. The kind of crap that will probably get him reelected.
The answer has become painfully obvious, and it is because time is money, talk is cheap, and the Illinois legislature is too interested in spending their allowances.
Man, this horse meat scandal in Europe is some nasty business. So nasty, in fact, other countries with a new-found interest in what the hell they are eating are starting to take harder looks.
When news of the scandal in Europe broke, officials in Iceland though they would poke around a bit, make sure none of that bullshit (or would it be horseplay?) was going on there. The results were exactly what they needed to hear- no horse or other questionable meats were in play, but there was a notable exception.
According to the account, one particular domestic brand of meat pie contained what inspector Kjartan Hreinsson said was apparently some kind of vegetable matter. Just like the story from a year or so back about how Pringles did not have enough potato in them to be called potato chips in Britain, the Icelandic meat inspectors were dealing with their worst nightmare- a meatless meat pie! The matter has since been taken over by local authorities. Interesting side note. Kjartan means will never show up on Spell Check in Icelandic.
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