The other day on Slate's Political Gabfest, I heard an interesting story about a new law in New Hampshire. Effective November 1st, all doctors must do an ultrasound before performing an abortion.

Most clinics already perform ultrasounds to determine gestation. No, the part that gets me is the new law states that the doctor doing the ultrasound, must "provide a simultaneous explanation of what the ultrasound is depicting," and also "display the ultrasound images so that the pregnant woman may view them."

The law goes so far as to specify the doctor's script: The physician must describe the heartbeat and the presence of internal organs, fingers, and toes. The patient then has to certify in writing that the doctor or technician duly did all of this before the abortion. The law also requires that after this ultrasound is performed, the doctor must wait at least one hour before performing the abortion. Probably, so the woman can stew in her own slutty guilt.

I could go on and on...and on about how this smacks of pro-lifers trying to guilt women into not getting in an abortion. I could also say there is something very condescending and paternalistic about the government thinking a woman can't decide what to do with her own body without the government's "protection".....but I won't.

Slate does a much better job of getting my point across and with bigger words. No, I want to hear what you think.

Comment below. Your opinion is important to me...mostly.

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(SPOILER ALERT:Go forth at your own risk...)

Previously on Heroes...the writers decided to kill Adam after bringing him back for two scenes, Peter continued to be a whiny douche and Parkman became BFFs with a turtle.

NBC's Heroes has been back for a couple of weeks now with a very uneven season so far. In a review I read on an earlier episode, the author compared Heroes to a soap opera and it gave me pause.

Let's think about this for a minute. What are typical elements of a soap opera? We have a family central to the show's hierarchy that have a large number of statistically impossible beautiful people. There's a long lost daughter, a wayward black sheep who is the real heart of the family. There is a central matriarch whose calculated machinations have effectively done more damage to her grand plans than helped and a tyrannical patriarch back from the grave.

For our supporting cast we have a trailer trash baby mama, a silent ethnic employee willing to do the dirty work to cover up the families mistakes...you know I'm just going to stop right here.

Yes, Heroes is very much a soap opera. Catty, melodramatic and serialized to the point of incoherency.

But is being a soap a bad thing?

While I am not one to extol the virtues of soap opera quality, I have on occasion been caught up in a truly compelling storyline. (I am only slightly ashamed that I was completely caught up in whether the lesbian would ever get her rape baby back from her best friend who stole it because she thought her own baby was dead.).

And while on paper stealing your ex's embryos to impregnate yourself with them to ransom his kid back for your son sounds a little silly on paper, my college roommate would beg to differ with you.

So if we disregard our elitist tendencies to societies definition of "quality television" and acknowledge a show for its "watchability", where does that leave Peter, Claire, Gabriel (aka Sylar for the less informed) and the rest of the Petrelli Family?

As long as they keep us wanting to watch, I'll go with...we'll see.

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Are current events moving us forward as a nation...or just showing how little we've changed over the years?

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Editor's Note: I posted this a few years back on a previous blog, but (Good or Bad) it still rings true....

For anyone between the ages of 20 and 40 there is an important milestone that I feel the need to discuss. It defined my idea of black college life and made a damn sexy accessory of the flip up glasses well into the mid-90's. If you don't already know where I'm going with this, I pity you. Let me give you a hint.

"I know my parents love me..."
"Stand behind me come what may."
"I know now that I'm ready, yeah"
" 'Cause I finally heard them say..."
IT'S DIFFERENT WORLD! WHOO! FROM WHERE YOU COME FROM! YES, IT IS NOW, YEAH!

I'm sorry ya'll I had to go back for minute. Anyway, the Oxygen channel has been showing reruns of this hallowed institution and it has brought back many a cherished memory and not a few embarassing fashion choices. I will be the first to admit I had a few neon green outfits in the closet, no shame.
Looking at the show again in the naughts made me realize how important it was to the shaping of who I am today (After Denise left, of course. I don't care what certain people say, the show was not worth a damn till Lisa Bonet left).
Here you had a handful of young African Americans from all walks of life going to college. There were no drugs, no gangs, justed educated men and women trying to make a difference in not only their lives, but the lives of others. It dealt with social issues, i.e. AIDS, Domestic Abuse, Date Rape, etc. And it also addressed relatively realistic campus life on an HBCU (that's Historically Black College or University for the uneducated).
Sure, Mom always stressed the importance of a good education, but it was Dwayne Wayne and Whitley Gilbert that made me believe I could learn something. I'm sad to say I've already lost some of those important lessons.
Does anybody remember the "Mamie" episode? During one of the earlier scenes Ron tries to cheer up a depressed Dwayne by playing "The Dozens", a pseudonym for "Ya Mama" jokes. They are informed by, I can't remember who, that "The Dozens" were away of slave traders degrading and devalueing those slaves on the block that they deemed not fit for sale. I wonder if Wilmer Valderrama would be so proud of his little MTV show if somebody supplied him with that bit of info. (He should already be embarassed just because Ya Mamma jokes were old in the 90's)
Getting back to my point, A Different World, and The Cosby Show as well, were a positive for many in my generation. It told young African Americans that you could go to college, that you could be the doctor. What African American shows do the youth of today have to learn from? Heck, what shows do they have period? \

......(Crickets)......

Yeah, sad, isn't?

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I hide in the shadows...waiting...wondering. Do I venture out or do I wait for the prey to come to me? There is some security to hanging back, but as they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Screw it...I'm going out there.

I stick close to the walls, keeping my backed protected, weapon at the ready. I see her...a young female. She hasn't noticed me yet. I aim...and fire.


"AAAAAAGGGHHHH, DAMN IT!"

She barrels after me in a rage and I race for high ground, my blood pumping in my ears. So intent am I in getting away from the her that I don't look where I'm going and run headlong into my own kinsmen....my young nephew. For a moment we stare at each other. Any other time it would be different, but today?

Kill or Be Killed....Every man for himself. I aim straight for his heart.

As he screams and shakes his temporarily disarmed laser gun, I run away laughing and shouting, "Happy Birthday, Sweetie!"

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Been dying to hear the dulcet tones of yours truly? Tune in to Saphronia and her pals Peaches and Aquababie on the SlamEvil podcast.

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Just sitting here listening to the beginning of the debate, I've come to one conclusion...I am so tired of this election.   Regardless of who people think won the debate (and don't get me started how either one of them could win) all we got was over an hour of two men attacking each other with half-truths and platitudes.  I would say more, but I'm so tired and disgusted, a longer rant will have to wait to later.

Joe the Plumber approved this message.

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No cable? Catch the debate in realtime by clicking on the title above and later check back to read how I dissect some particularly heinous quotes from each candidate in the most inane way possible.

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I have Internet at my house. An Internet connection that has been faithful to me for many a year now, but every once in awhile this intense cauldron of boredom would like a change of venue.

My laptop has been sorrowfully tied to my apartment like a common desktop console for some time now and my more technically advanced friends have informed me that it doesn't really work well that way. Hence the name, I suppose.

In my last city of residence, my laptop was very mobile, having staunchly refused to pay anybody for Internet when I could steal it from others. I was friendly with many a coffee shop employee during my time of ordering a glass of water and sitting their for 5 hours on the Internet looking up....stuff. But I finally gave up the ghost when I moved and got Bellsouth Internet. It helped some that they were running $10 special at the time for new customers, but I digress.

Fast forward to today and my long and annoying quest to find a free Internet connection somewhere in this town. I have travelled far and wide, to the high hills of Ridgeland to the woods of...well, Flowood.

Sadly, I have not found my holy grail. Many a cafe' and restaurant trumpets their connectivity...Borders, McAlisters....Krystal's(Yeah, I'm just as confused by that one as you are.). But none, so far, have given me what I need.

My first stop was Borders. Powered by Verizon, which means I'd have to pay...so no go. Did spend another 45 minutes perusing and buying books I couldn't afford, being very counter-productive to the whole being on a budget. Oh, well...

I then stopped at McAlisters. I fired up the laptop and got a message saying strong connectivity...and unsecured. Awesome. So your intrepid traveler stood in line for 10 minutes, ordered lunch she couldn't afford and sat down to play on her favorite sites.

All I got was an error message from Internet explorer....(Sigh) After a quick inquiry with the staff at McAlisters, I come to discover that their WiFi hasn't worked since Hurricane Gustav. Nice to know before I spent $9.00 on lunch.

Next stop, Cups Espresso Cafe. More cautious this time, I peaked in to see not one, but several patrons surfing the Internet completely ignoring the people sitting at the tables next to them. Excellent! I have this overwhelming sense of moocher's guilt these days so I ordered the cheapest coffee I could and started up my computer and crossed my fingers. The lovely MSN Windows woman's voice gives me a soft, "Good Afternoon" and I sigh in relief.

Internet up: Check. I turn on my media player software to update my player; no go. OK...maybe there isn't enough bandwidth. I play on the Internet for awhile then decide to balance my checkbook. In very stereotypical female fashion, I suck at balancing my checkbook without electronic assistance. It's something I've done several times in the past at various coffeehouses, so I feel safe in assuming I should have no trouble completing this task. I turn on MSN Money and try to log on....and I get an error message saying it can't detect a connection.

(BANGS HEAD ON TABLE NEARLY TURNING OVER A VERY EXPENSIVE CUP OF COFFEE.)

The quest continues....

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A cousin of mine once got so caught up in gambling she lost everything. It got so bad she was going to lose her house. She came to me and asked for help.


She said she was going to clean up her act and needed money to get back on her feet. I said sure and gave $4000 out of my savings...

Then she then went to Vegas for a week and came back to borrow another $2000. Well, of course I gave it to her because, after all, her problems are my problems, right?



WRONG, but unfortunately for your average taxpayer, that's exactly what the Federal Reserve is doing for "Cousin Wall Street".



Now before I get started on a loud and obnoxious rant, I want to preface it with this. I completely supported the first buyout.



I roughly understood the concept and need for such a measure. If Wall Street freezes up than nobody will lend me the money to buy that new TiVo I've been eyeing. So help the big, sad companies stay on their feet and infuse the market with liquid capital. Good deal.


So we did. We gave them money and said "Doctor! Heal thyself!"


...and then the DOW dropped another 600 points.


..Nice...


Since that first buyout a week ago the stock market has dipped under 10,000. The stock market hasn't been under 10,000 since March 29, 1999. What have the executives at AIG (the recipients of our first midnight money wire from Western Union) been up to since then?
Why they took a $3 million dollar week off and, to add insult to injury, want more money from us!


Now I don't claim to know anything about money management. My checkbook looks like the worse game of Sudoku ever played, but something just doesn't ring smart about handing over your checkbook to a person who obviously has a gambling problem.


And don't give me the crap about this not being the same thing. The definition for addiction on dictionary.com states that addiction is "the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming....to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma."


Those in the stock market live their life by volatile numbers that could go either way simply by the whim of a barely comprehensible formula. Their lively hood, their well-being...hell, even their self-worth defined by how they play the stocks. If that doesn't sound like an addiction, I don't know what does.


The difference between them and a run-of-the-mill drug addict or regular old working class gambler is that now, thanks to the FED, they're playing with our money and just as fast and loose as they always did. That doesn't work. The need to get help. They need to understand that what they're doing isn't healthy and someone needs to be monitoring them. A sponsor, so to speak, who will throw out the liquor bottles and check their arms for track marks.

I'm all for helping out family in trouble...but not with a blank check.

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I got into an interesting discussion yesterday with a good friend. I was lamenting the fact that I currently have little to do with my days now that the economy has taken a nose dive. Her point: "Do you have any idea how many people would love to do nothing and get paid for it?"

I could see where she was coming from. I sit in my office all day reading my favorite websites and playing mindsweeper and I get paid for it. Sweet, right?

But there was one big problem with that statement and its one we all can see coming...getting paid to be unproductive won't last for very long.

Unfortunately, my profession's profitability is quite dependent on other people's profession's profitability. Put simply: they don't make money...I don't make money. Insurance companies, stockbrokers or "Mom and Pop", it doesn't matter to me. If they have no money in their budget for extras than I don't have any money for food, hence why I've examined the existensial qualities of my navel...and gotten totally awesome at bejeweled. (My only real accomplishment in the past few weeks.)

I know and you know that if it comes to light that I have time to peruse the interweb, balance my checkbook...talk to you good people, eventually the higher ups will come to the inevitable conclusion its a lot cheaper for them to allow me to do that from the comfort of my own home.

Basically, I sit, waiting on a time bomb that will bring with it the massive devastation of unemployment, soup lines and a larger no pants radius...and I'm not alone.

Every day on CNN, MSNBC, etc. we hear about company's cutting back, increased inflation and people killing themselves rather than lose their house. People just like me are sitting in offices, cubicles and behind reception desks twiddling their thumbs, checking their email, getting the high score on Flood It! and sending out their resumes wondering just as much as I am "do the bosses know?" and "how long can I get away with it?".

The question she should have asked me isn't how many would like to be in my situation. (Many do and don't like it.) The question she should have asked me is for how long?

Tick...Tick...Tick...

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