Idiots Abound

Never let it be said that I don't enjoy watching a train wreck.

And, I will admit, I have been watching the train wreck that is the Gosselins ever since the tabloids started spewing reports of Jon's supposed infidelity a few months ago.  It's been fascinating, I will admit.  The Gosselin's claim that they deserve privacy, that no one should care what happens to them, that the paparazzi should not be stalking them.  I call bullshit.  They opened their doors to this kind of crap when they let cameras into their home to film their kids' every bowel movement.  Part. And. Parcel. People.  Tough noogies. 

Anyway, if you're one of the five people on the planet who have absolutely no idea who these people are, and why they've been hogging the cover of People for the past couple of months, much to Lindsay Lohan's and Paris Hilton's reported upset, let me briefly explain.  (Yes, Mom, I'm talking to you.)  The Gosselins have two sets of "multiples," meaning they have a set of eight-year-old twins and a set of five-year-old sextuplets, which adds up to eight children.  They have, for a while now, had a show on TLC titled, Jon and Kate Plus Eight.  

I watched this show fairly regularly for a couple of years.  It was required viewing when I was going through chemo (along with 'Dirty Jobs") because it was cute, light, fluffy, and it was the only show with children in it that didn't make me green with envy. I would, on a regular basis, momentarily flare with jealousy when I walked around the lake and saw moms pushing their kids in strollers.  But this show?  Not a single drop of envy pulsed through my veins as I watched.  I mean, after all, who in their right mind would be envious of people who had eight children in four years?  When it comes to my reproductive capacity, I'm as barren as the Russian steppes in January, but I couldn't even manage to work up any envy for their situation.  Who'd want to potty train six kids in one go?  Not me.  Who'd want to be on semi-permanent diaper duty?  Who'd want to give six kids a bath?  Or feed eight children at one shot?  Not me. I want kids, but, damn, I don't want that many. And, unlike most people, I know what I'm speaking of as I am, ahem, from a family comprised of eight children.

When I told the Cake Eater Mother about this show, I could hear her turn pale over the phone.  She said: "I always told Dr. McNamara that, if there was more than one in there, I was to be wheeled over to the Our Lady of Victory wing, and that your father would have to deal with it."  

The Our Lady of Victory wing at St. Joseph's Hospital, at the time, was the loony bin.

So, Jon and Kate Plus Eight, was "safe" viewing for me.  It was entertaining, yet not too taxing for my chemo-addled brain, and I managed to keep some kids in my life.  I was grateful for that.  And I was grateful to the Gosselins for sharing their lives.  Sure, Kate got on my nerves with her insistence on "organic" everything, and her refusal to let her kids walk barefoot across a hotel room floor because she didn't think it was sanitary. I thought she was taking the motherhood "protection" angle too far, looking for threats that weren't there, but that's hardly uncommon; you see it every day, with mothers refusing to let their kids play in the yard unsupervised because of unrealistic fears that some level-three sex offender was going to snatch them.  Yet, it made me uncomfortably itchy how Kate bossed her husband around, and yelled at and slapped him, and then, in a rather blase way, just chalked it up to the stress of having eight children.  I don't, for one minute, buy that excuse.  I thought she was being lazy, because there is always the option of better behavior. How do I know this?  Because of my mom.  My mother never slapped or belittled my father because she had eight kids. If anything, she was incredibly deferential to him, because he brought home the bacon, and we were all instructed to do the same.  Yes, they argued.  That was inevitable, and normal.  But my mom would never use her children as an excuse for being mean, like Kate did. So, yes, I was uncomfortable with that aspect.  I did, however, try to give her the benefit of the doubt.  They were both honest that they weren't perfect.  And, they made up in the end, didn't they?  Somehow, they made it work.  They loved each other, even if they did fight over stupid things.  And it's hard to judge just what goes on in a marriage.  Perhaps they just had a different way of handling things.  Again, I really wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt.  

The husband had a different opinon on their dynamic.  Every time he walked into the room when the show was on, he asked, "Has he grown a pair, yet?"  To the husband, Jon was way too passive and was obviously unhappy because he kept letting his wife walk all over him just to keep the peace.  He predicted a mid-life crisis for Jon long before it happened.  I just figured Kate would be beaten-down into lightening up eventually, and Jon would take to the sofa for extended naps before too long. 

But something changed about a year and a half ago.  They actively started pushing this show on TLC.  There was more advertising.  There was a new logo.  There was a new opening segment.  Something had changed.  At first, I just thought the show had received a revamp.  But then it became obvious that a sea change was afoot. Jon no longer had a job. Suddenly, there were bottles of Juicy Juice everywhere.  T-shirts with advertising on them were blocked out with an abundance of pixels---unless some company paid to have them wear their t-shirts, and only then could you see the logo.  A family vacation to Disneyworld seemed normal enough, with friends available to help take care of their children. But then the "nannies" started showing up---straight from "Nannies for Hire," a company, I believe, one of their friends started and they agreed to help promote.  Then came the visit to Oprah.  And the trips to Utah, and North Carolina, with donated snow suits, monster vacation rentals, and, mother of all promotional items, a trip to Hawaii replete with a "marriage vow renewal." Oh, and let's not forget the free hair plugs Jon received.  Their extended family and friends stopped showing up in episodes.  Mady, one half of the older set of twins, completely disappeared at times---and I have to think that's because her behavior was a distraction to filming, rather than a punishment for her erratic, attention-seeking behavior, as her parents claimed.  That's right around when I stopped watching. Sure, I caught bits and pieces when I flipped past, but this show was no longer required viewing. The kids were no longer running around in their driveway, banging their tricycles or squabbling about whose turn it was with the sidewalk chalk, but were rather welcoming some new guest to their household every week who was bringing them a "present." Kate published books, charged for autographs, and began calling their show "her job."  The show no longer was about the daily experiences of an overlarge family in a small house; it was about this overlarge family who had moved to humongous gated estate, and who obviously had made the decision to cash in.

These people went from sharing their lives to pimping their children out for swag. 

And, surprise, surprise, the train went off the rails and the cars started piling up on one another.  First, we see Jon on the cover of some tabloid, being called out for cheating.  And they sound plausible, because, after all, shouldn't a father of eight be home at two a.m. instead of out at the bars? Then there's Kate on another cover, saying she's hurt by Jon's behavior and doesn't know if her marriage is finished.  Then there's allegations that Kate is cheating with her bodyguard.  It bounces back and forth, like a grass stained-tennis ball batted between Nadal and Federer on Centre Court, until this past Monday, when they announced they were getting divorced.  

I don't blame the show for what happened to their marriage.  I blame their decision to start actively pimping out their children for money for what happened to their marriage. They went from being parents who weren't afraid to say "no" to their children, who managed to go out to dinner by themselves every now and again, who put a priority on their marriage, to having their lives be all about their kids.  I had to watch that "announcement" special they had on the other night (and I swear to God, it was because there wasn't anything else on, and I really just wanted to get to "Cake Boss.") and it struck me how many times Kate claimed her children were her top priority; how Jon said he'd do anything for his kids; how often they both said their kids were the most important things in their lives.  Well, sure, of course the kids are the most important things in their lives: the kids are their meal-ticket.  The kids paid for that house, all the new cars, Jon's new 1/2 carat diamond studs, all the color-jobs and the horrendous haircuts Kate gets and her fantabulously horrendous new wardrobe.  In such a situation how could it be any different?  People want to see the kids happy, healthy and, most importantly, cute.  To do that requires a lot of work.  Everything else, of course, would have to go by the wayside, including their marriage. 

Look, I may not have kids, but it's pretty simple to even childless 'ol me: kids grow up and leave, to lead their own lives.  Yes, you need to give children a good foundation to build upon, they need to be cared for, educated, loved, and corrected when they step out of line.  I'm not denying any of that.  But they do leave.  That's the nature of children: they grow up.  If you don't take care of your marriage whilst you're raising your kids, first, how do kids know how to have a successful relationship and second, who the hell are you going to play Parcheesi on the front porch with in your golden years?  It takes two people to raise a child.  I don't care if that's a man and a woman, two men, or two.   women---the magic number is two.  Yes, you can do it with one parent, but that's not ideal, as any single parent will tell you.  Your reward for sticking it out, holding tight over the rough patches, and raising your children together is a relationship that will stand the test of time.  Jon and Kate, in their rush to make a buck off their children by putting their children first, forgot all of this.  Now they're getting divorced. 

Now, I could say a whole lot more about how Kate, with her controlling ways, pretty much drove Jon to seek comfort where and when he could get it (not saying that he did, but if he did, well, he's probably the one guy who deserves a pass in my book.  And we all know I feel about adultery.), or how Jon should have grown a pair much sooner than he did, or how they should have sought counseling to make their marriage work---but to do so would be to miss the point.  These people put their kids first, but they did it in a way where it was pretty much impossible for their marriage to survive.  One has to ask: what kind of lesson is that going to be for their kids?  Because, oh, yes, their kids will struggle because their parents failed---and towards the end, flat-out refused---to work at their marriage.  The kids might not know how to compromise because their mother never does.  They might become extremely passive-aggressive when confronted with an uncomfortable situation because that's what their father does.  But, most importantly, they might find themselves struggling to figure out how to make a relationship work because their parents simply gave up. Sure, the kids come first in the Gosselin household, but, really, how is that going to help these same kids in the long run?  I'm of the opinion that it will hinder them more than any damage wrought by having to witness their parents arguing.    

Man, this thing just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

 

NEW ULM, MINN. - A felony arrest warrant for deprivation of parental rights was issued today for Colleen Hauser, who is on the run with her son, Daniel, from court-ordered cancer treatment.

Brown County Sheriff Rich Hoffmann announced the new warrant this morning, saying it was issued to ensure extradition to Minnesota, if she is arrested. An earlier warrant for her arrest was based on a contempt of court charge.

It carries  no enhanced criminal penalty, he said, but "is required to give outside law enforcement agencies the authority needed to apprehend and detain the Hausers, should they be located," he said.

California authorities, with assistance from the FBI, are investigating a sighting of the Hausers Tuesday morning in southern California. No new information about their whereabouts was obtained overnight, Hoffmann said.

Hoffmann said Wednesday night that Colleen Hauser and Daniel, 13, were apparently trying to reach Mexico for an alternative medical treatment to chemotherapy.{...}

 

 

Call me crazy---and I know some of you will---but I can't quite ditch a particular thought that crossed my mind: is it possible that Colleen Hauser has some wierd variant of Munchausen-By-Proxy?  

Everyone who's watched some episode of a medical show knows what Munchausens is.  But if you've successfully avoided every repeat of ER over the years, here's the Mayo Clinic's rundown:

Munchausen syndrome is a serious mental disorder in which someone with a deep need for attention pretends to be sick or gets sick or injured on purpose. People with Munchausen syndrome may make up symptoms, push for risky operations, or try to rig laboratory test results in their effort to win sympathy and concern.

Munchausen syndrome belongs to a group of conditions, called factitious disorders, that are either made up or self-inflicted. Factitious disorders can be psychological or physical. Munchausen syndrome refers to the most severe and chronic physical form of factitious disorder.

And here are the symptoms:

• Dramatic stories about numerous medical problems
• Frequent hospitalizations
• Vague or inconsistent symptoms
• Conditions that get worse for no apparent reason
• Eagerness to undergo frequent testing or risky operations
• Extensive knowledge of medical terminology and diseases
• Seeking treatment from many different doctors or hospitals
• Having few visitors when hospitalized
• Reluctance to allow health professionals to talk to family or friends
• Frequent requests for pain relievers or other medication

The dots don't appear to be connecting, I know.  But Munchausens presumes that someone is going out of their way to receive attention from the medical establishment.  What if someone rejected the medical establishment entirely, as the Hauser's have done, and decided to go in the opposite direction?  Wouldn't it then be possible for someone to exhibit some of the same symptoms of Munchausens whilst avoiding mainstream medicine entirely?  Does it make any sense at all that what this woman has done is to flip the Munchausens coin entirely---and this is the end result? Look at that list of symptoms again, yet reverse them.  Sound familiar?

Most people are simply presuming that she's just a mom who's doing what she thinks is best for her kid---and who is going to great lengths to do just that. That could very well be true.  I'm not going to deny that one bit.  But the facts imply something very different.  She subscribes to wishful thinking regarding her son's condition---so much so in fact that she refuses to believe the X-rays that show her son's tumor has grown.  She chalked the growth up to "scar tissue," which any radiologist will tell you doesn't even show up most of the time on any sort of image, whether that be X-rays, CT scans or MRIs, and when it does, it's generally severe enough to make a difference in how they view the scans, i.e. it doesn't show up by itself, but rather show itself through changes to existing anatomy, or so I've been given to understand.  She has deliberately kept her kid in the dark about his condition---the fact that she homeschooled him and, apparently, never taught him to read has helped her cause tremendously.  (And I really don't know how she got away with this.  The State of Minnesota, as my sister-in-law can tell you, is harsh on homeschooling parents, because they want to discourage people from walking down that particular path.  Their kids are tested much more rigorously than regular students.) As if all that wasn't enough, she fed him full of malarkey about how he had turned into a medicine man when he turned thirteen, and was thus educated enough to make his own decisions regarding his care.  Conveniently, medicine man status was awarded after his first chemo treatment, when he balked at going back for more. Then, when the court didn't let her have her way, and said she was endangering her son, she took Daniel and bolted, creating a media sensation in the process. 

Does of all of this mean she's just plain ignorant or is she truly attention-seeking?  I don't know.  All this is just speculation on my part, but it seems to make sense, in a weird, flipped-on-its-head sort of way.  I will simply say this: if, when she gets to a place where she's beyond the long arm of the law, and she shows up on every cable chat show to plead her case, and makes it into a larger issue, well, then, my point may have been made.

Someone at the International Monetary Fund, apparently, had some seriously fat fingers when they were entering data regarding Eastern European external debt levels.

The International Monetary Fund has corrected an embarrassing error that led to the publication of exaggerated estimates of the external debt levels of crisis-hit eastern European states.

In its latest Global Financial Stability Report, published in April, the IMF provided key numbers on 38 selected emerging market countries, including their 2009 external debt refinancing needs as a ratio of their foreign exchange reserves.

But after the numbers for some countries were challenged by central bankers, analysts and journalists, the IMF revised the data and began publishing new figures for the external debt/reserves ratios of some eastern European countries.

The ratio for the Czech Republic was cut from 236 per cent to 89 per cent and Estonia’s was reduced to 132 per cent from 210 per cent. It is understood the figure for Ukraine is also being cut to 116 per cent from 208 per cent, that Lithuania’s ratio of 425 per cent may also be recalculated and that others may follow.

The IMF said on Wednesday it would verify its numbers and publish correct figures on its website as soon as they were available. “We regret any confusion that may have arisen as a result of our publication of erroneous figures.”

The fund added that it was now reviewing “how the errors occurred” and would “amend the IMF’s internal procedures according to the lessons learned”.

The error for the Czech Republic occurred because of “a data entry error”, the fund said. In other cases, short-term debt repayments were “inadvertently double-counted”.{...}

So, along with the data entry errors, it would appear as if some brainiac at the IMF pulled an Oliver Wendell Jones* and forgot to carry the two. 

I'm sure all the eastern European countries whose bond ratings probably hit a new low over the past couple of weeks due to this erroneous data are beyond thankful they're held responsible for their financial statements by a group that can't even do the math right.

Maybe it's not as bad as it seems, though.  At least the IMF didn't black out the existence of flightless water fowl with their errors.* 

Tag the reference. If you can. I triple-dog-dare you!

While I will cop to having a few Coldplay songs on ye old music server here at the Cake Eater Pad, for the most part, I am over them.  All their music sounds the same---and not in a good way.  I can understand that bands have their "sound," as in they bend certain songs around their particular way of doing things.  A good example to illustrate my point would be The Doors.  You can instantly tell it came out of their kitchen when it starts playing.  They have a flavor of their own, but each song, or, if we're to continue with the food metaphor, each dish is different and absolutely unique, and well able to stand on its own merits.  You could say the same of Pink Floyd or Foo Fighters or No Doubt---or any number of other bands. Yes, Coldplay has its own flavor---but every dish that comes out of their kitchen pretty much tastes the same: too much ego, not enough salt.

Now, I've long thought that Chris Martin, aka Mr. Gwenyth Paltrow, aka Coldplay's frontman, is full of shit.  Or rather is a sack of shit.  Or rather is a shit.  Pick as you please.   Not only is he a sanctimonious, high handed shit, he's also a talentless hack shit.  Everything he writes is the same fucking song. Over and over again. 

Or so I thought. 

I will admit that I actually kind of like Viva La Vida.  Yes, it's Coldplay, but it actually sounded different.  There was some orchestration going on.  Someone hadn't gone crazy with the mixing board, like they usually do, creating the audio equivalent of mashed potatoes. It sounded crisp and new.  And, I will admit, I do like the lyrics.  But it would appear as if I've got ammo on the "talentless hack" claim, because Coldplay has not one, but two claims of plagiarism against them at current regarding Vida La Vida.  One from Joe Satriani, who is suing claiming that they recycled large chunks of his song If I Could Fly and one new claim from our old pal Cat Stevens Yusuf Islam, who isn't suing...yet.  He believes a bit of his Foreigner Suite II made it into Vida La Vida as well.  

Curiously enough, this could get interesting, because the bits and pieces that are under dispute are the same in all three songs.  

Have a listen and see what you think. 

First, Coldplay, with Chris Martin acting like an overpaid, sanctimonious "I am the Second Coming of Christ" ass.  (No one said you actually have to watch the video, so don't worry if you want to look at other things while it's playing.  No one will blame you.) 

Now, away we go to one Mr. Cat Stevens.  Fast forward to around the 5:20 mark and you'll see what he's talking about.

Then we have Joe Satriani, and "If I Could Fly," which I must admit, I've never heard before now. No fast forwarding needed here...it'll be obvious soon enough.

Now, how does that work?  Because, chronologically speaking, Cat went first, so Joe was stealing from him, and hence Cat should be suing not only Coldplay, but Joe as well.  But Joe felt solid enough in his claim to actually file the paper with the court, so I'm not sure what exactly is going on here. 

All I really know is that Chris Martin stole it from someone, hence he really is a talentless hack.  Heh. 

I have taken advantage of the new spirit of transparency, mes amies, and...MON DIEU!...it really IS that small.  

Yeah, that was a shot of the inexpensive variety.  Sue me.  Perhaps you can do better, my devoted Cake Eater readers. 

One Malawian baby girl, named Mercy James.  And guess who the highest bidder is?  Madonna.

Madonna's bid to adopt a second Malawian child, a baby girl called Mercy James, will be examined by a court in the southern African country next week, officials said on Friday.

The 14-month-old would be a sister for Madonna's three children including David, whose adoption by the U.S. pop star aroused controversy, and comes from the same orphanage.

"Her name is Mercy James from Mchinji Home of Hope orphanage. She has no father and mother, they both died... We finished the assessment yesterday in readiness for the courts next week," an official at the ministry of Gender and Child Development told Reuters.

Court clerks confirmed the name of the child and said that Madonna or her associates were expected to appear in court next Monday for the adoption proceedings. She is expected to arrive in Malawi over the weekend, officials said.

Some Malawians opposed David's adoption, accusing the government of skirting laws that ban non-residents from adopting children in Malawi, which has been badly hit by an AIDS epidemic.

Mavuto Bamusi, national coordinator for the 60-member Human Rights Consultative Committee, told Reuters that this adoption would also violate the country's laws.

"As far as we are concerned, nothing has changed in terms of adoption laws in the country," he said.

Didja get that?  Adoption is banned in Malawi for non-residents.  I sincerely doubt Madonna is a resident of Malawi.  It would be beneath her to move there, and set up a mansion amidst the mud huts.  After all, that would look bad.  But, apparently, it's all right for her to swoop in and arrange to adopt a child, despite the fact the laws of the country forbid her from doing so.  You want to know how she's doing this?  Cash money, under the table.  Do I have any proof of this?  No, but this is how it's done.  She bribed someone.  Or rather "her associates" did it.  I doubt she could be bothered to tear herself away from her daily four-hour workouts, where she earns her Skeletor arms, to spread the cash around herself.  

But it gets even better, because, according to the BBC, she claims that, and I quote:

{...}After {her son, David's}the adoption was legalised, Madonna said the difficulties had arisen because "this adoption essentially was the beginning of the creation of adoption laws in Malawi".

She hoped it would make it easier for others to adopt from the country and explained: "I am the template or the role model, so to speak, for future adoptions."{...}

So, bribery is the template for future adoptions?  Geez, Madonna, talk about having a huge head.  Because there is nothing original or "role-model"-ish about bribing foreign officials to look the other way when it comes to a country's adoption laws.  That she would make the claim that she's trying to make it easier for others to adopt a child from Malawi is beyond the pale.  Beyond. The.  Pale.

I sincerely doubt Madonna is capable of shame at this late date, but she should be ashamed of herself.  She wants another baby and she's got the cash to buy one, like this little girl was a Gucci bag, so, accordingly, she's plunked down a load of cash and by the end of next week, she'll have another child.  Who she won't be bothered to care for personally, but who will get their very own nanny, or two, and then will only be pulled out for photo-ops, you know, when Madonna needs to look motherly. 

Fucking bitch. 

You see, contrary to Madonna's claims, it's precisely this kind of behavior that makes it hard for the rest of us.  You know, the majority of us who aren't loaded.  We have to go through official channels to make an international adoption happen.  We have scrutiny applied to us by actual officials.  We have to pay to have a home study done; we have to pay to be scrutinized by an adoption agency who could just take the money and then say, no, we don't think you're equipped to adopt a child.  Sorry, there's no "money-back-guarantee" on that.  Yet, if you do get accepted, you have to submit your portfolio to one country, and one country only, where you'll have to wait, possibly for years, before a child will become available, particularly if you're looking to adopt an infant.  Then, if that happy day comes, you have to shell out for adoption fees, not only in your state and country, but also in the country you're adopting from.  Then there's the airfare, which, conveniently, is priced and run through the adoption agency you're working with, so there's not really any discounts there, ya dig.  Oh, and did I mention that you'll be paying not only for your airfare, but the child's as well, and your adoption counselor's, too.  Then, when you get home, there will be even more scrutiny applied, and if the counselors get a whiff that things are not going the least bit well, the child can be pulled from your custody and sent back from whence they came.  And then you'll have to start all over again.  And the fees start all over again, too.  Another homestudy.  Another portfolio.  In the same country, or a different one, where the fees might be even higher. 

Now, keep in mind, international adoptions are meant to be easier than domestic adoptions, because other countries have a tendency to keep in mind that people are not perfect, or loaded, whereas in America, we expect perfection of prospective parents, and if you don't have a living room that rivals the Taj Mahal's, or a bank account that rivals Madonna's, you're pretty much screwed. 

(And this is only if you haven't had cancer within the last five years.  Many adoption agencies wouldn't even work with me right now because I haven't been cancer free in the last five years.  Not all agencies are like this, but the majority of them do have this condition in place.  Never mind that many countries, which also have their own medical qualifications for prospective parents, don't allow cancer survivors to adopt at all.)

Then you have to factor in the fact that there is competition to adopt.  You have competition from other prospective parents.  But, more than that, countries will have competition from other countries, because adoption is a money-making venture for governments.  Not only do they get to get one more orphan off the books---one less mouth to feed and clothe and house and educate---they also make money on the fees.  And these are the legal fees.  When someone, like that scumbag, soulless, whore Madonna slips wads of cash under the table, it encourages a black market in babies.  Because, as much as I hate Madonna for resorting to buying a baby, she's hardly the first person to do this. And, has been proven in the past, encourages an environment of institutional corruption.  To their credit, many countries have worked very hard to eliminate corruption when it comes to the adoption process, but there are plenty of countries who haven't, either.  Do you honestly think that when some celebrity, like Madonna, or even Angelina and Brad, comes around, throwing cash willy nilly, it doesn't give certain people in the adoption racket certain ideas about what Americans are willing to pay out for babies?  Even if said celebrity means well, and donates money to an orphanage after they've adopted with a clean heart, do you honestly think that simple action is not giving people ideas about new revenue sources?  

For this bitch to claim that, by adopting a child from Malawi, she's actually paving the way for future adoptions is complete and utter bullshit.  She's simply going after what she wants.  And she'll get what she wants, which is another child, because she's got the cash in hand to get it done.  It may not be for another few years, but eventually the culture of corruption she has encouraged in Malawi with her payoffs, will screw the rest of us over.  It's not going to take long for the government in Malawi to realize this is a money-making venture.  If the government decides to open up international adoptions there, eventually, because of what she started and what the officials there will come to expect in terms of payoffs, that avenue will be closed, if not by the government of Malawi, but by the American Embassy there.  Don't believe me?  Well, that's what's happened in Guatemala, where the American Embassy has put an absolute and total embargo on facilitating the adoption of orphans by American families.  Why did they shut down this avenue?  Because there was so much money floating around, unscrupulous people in Guatemala were actually stealing infants from their parents, handing them over to an orphanage, who would then pay them a finders fee.  Supply and demand, kids.  If they start running short of actual orphans, they'll find them someplace else. It's just that simple.  The American Embassy decided it would not take part in such a shady operation, and forced the government to clean up their act.  This happened over a year ago, and to my knowledge, the government in Guatemala hasn't done a thing about it. 

When babies are simply a commodity to be bought and sold, as Madonna believes they are, instead of lives that could be better lived in another country, with another family, who simply wants to love and care for said life, it's not a "process," it's an auction.  We used to have such auctions, and the people who were auctioned off were called "slaves."  We abolished the institution of slavery because we believed it was morally wrong to place monetary value on human life; we believed it was morally wrong for a human life to be traded as a commodity.  Adoptions of this sort should be considered no different in this regard.  Because a child who is bought with money slipped under the table is no different than a slave bought at auction a hundred and seventy years ago.  Of course people will say, but the child was in an orphanage anyway; they're getting a better life out of the deal. 

Do you realize that that was precisely the same argument slavers in past centuries used to justify the taking of people from their homes, shackling them, and selling them to the highest bidder?   

Who is this guy?

You can find the answer after the jump.have your cake and read more too!

Ok, my devoted Cake Eater readers, this post isn't so much for you, but for the masses that come here via Google.  I'm metatagging the shit out of this post so I can warn people away from the Quality Inn at 2216 NE Evangeline Thruway in Lafayette, Louisiana.  Get what you will out of this post, but this one is for the Googlers. 

Where to start?

My sister, ML, had some bonus points on her credit card.  She wanted to be done with this particular credit card, for whatever reason, yet didn't want the bonus points to go to waste, hence she offered them up to my parents while we were all in Florida, to get them some free hotel rooms along the way to Austin.  Seems like a good deal, no?  Free hotel rooms across the thirteen hundred mile journey?  ML gets to cancel the credit card she doesn't like?  What's not to like?  It's a freakin' win-win, right? 

I handled this with my sister.  Once the parents had decided upon the route they wanted to take back to Austin, and where the designated stopping points for the three evenings would be, I coordinated with ML to get things arranged.  My parents don't like dealing with added bureaucracy, even if something free is the end result, so it was just easier this way.  We figured out that there weren't any bonus points hotels in Tallahassee, but there were on our two other stops for the trip: Ft. Walton Beach, Florida and Lafayette, Louisiana.   Mom looked over her options and picked the hotels she wanted; confirmation numbers were given and received, and when we were on our way, we thought no more about it. 

The hotel in Ft. Walton Beach was familiar: it was two doors down from my parents' usual haunt, and it was a Holiday Inn resort.  We knew it was clean and well-tended.  There were no worries beforehand, and when we arrived in the room, it was fresh, clean with a lovely view of the Gulf of Mexico. And it offered free DVD rentals, to boot. Couldn't have asked for more, except for an on-call, in-room chiropractor who could have fixed the Cake Eater Mother's back, but, hell, you can't have everything. 

The next morning, my aching mother ensconced in the back seat of the Impala, we went west, young man, and at around five in the evening, found ourselves pulling up in front of the Quality Inn in Lafayette, on the NE Evangeline Thruway.  Mom checked us in, per usual, because she digs hotel lobbies and the various and assorted brochures with which they can supply her.  Shortly thereafter, we had the keys to our rooms and we went about unpacking the car and getting settled in.  For the first two nights of the trip, we'd all stayed in the same room.  I may be almost forty, with a love of privacy, but I was traveling with my parents, with whom I've, literally, traveled thousands of miles over the years: old habits are easily fallen into with these two.  It was just like being a teenager again, on a road trip with my parents.  But this night in Lafayette, they had decided to get me my own room.  Mom wanted to stretch out, and sharing a queen sized bed with my father wasn't going to get the job done.  And because their room was free, they were going to get me my own room for the night, as a treat for all of us.  I was exhausted, after driving from the west side of Mobile, through Missisippi, and pretty much all of Louisiana, and I was looking forward to a glass of wine before we went and ate creole or cajun and listened to some music.  It should have been a fun, rejuvenating night.  

But it wasn't.

Now, you tell me, my devoted Cake Eater readers, if you saw a room like this on a website, you'd think it was pretty much your standard Quality Inn fare, right?  

Nothing fancy, per se, but it's a motel right off the interstate, and in a hotel such as that, all you really want is a clean room, with a bed with clean sheets, and maybe a fridge for your bottle of wine, right?  Cable is nice, but after a long day of driving you'll probably just fall asleep anyway.  You don't need much, particularly if you're only sticking around for a night, right?  

Looking at these pictures you'd think that it would fit this particular bill, correct?

Let me tell you, right here, right now, that you could not be more wrong when it came to the Quality Inn at 2216 NE Evangeline Thruway in Lafayette, Louisiana. 

This is what you got in reality.

Now, keep in mind that my camera was shoved into the trunk.  This is my mom's camera, and the date stamp is wrong.  The date should read: March 4, 2009.

So, one missing light switch.  What's the big deal, right?

Well, how does a mildewed lampshade suit you?

Or mildew on the walls where they'd recently moved the furniture?

What about some battered furniture?

Or a dirty mirror?

See if you can tell me what advertised amenities are missing in this picture...of yet another dirty mirror. The light over the sink doesn't look like it's on half power, but it is. 

This is just a small sampling of what we ran into in our first two rooms, 214 and 216, respectively.  I am not proud to say it, but I flipped out when I saw the mildewed lampshade.  This was after I'd noticed there were two pillows in the entire room, and that the bed had been sat upon and the sheets and blankets mussed...and not by me.  There were three lamps in the hotel room.  Only one of them had a bulb in it.  The plug on the microwave was entirely missing, because someone, apparently, had cut it off.  There were crumbs in the refridgerator door.  The mirrors were dirty, the floors were dirty.  Everything was filthy.  But it was the mildewed lampshade that really set me off.  Again, I am not proud of my behavior, because I scared the bejeebus out of the front desk clerk when I slammed said lampshade down on the counter.   I demanded he send up a cleaning crew and that he do it, pronto.  He nodded his head, eyes wide, and picked up the phone.  I left in the same huff that I entered the front office in. 

I should add right here, and right now, that I am not an overly fussy person when it comes to hotel rooms.  I'm just not.  I can deal with banged up furniture and a crappy Windex job on a mirror, because I've been there.  I have cleaned houses for money.  I have cleaned condos for money.  I have cleaned hotel rooms for money.  I have been employed by the "hospitality industry" in the past, and I know what it's like to be on a schedule and have to clean up after pigs.  And, yes, you Delta pilots and fight attendants who stayed at the Omaha Residence Inn at 70th and Dodge in the early 90's, I'm talking to you.  Who do you think had to clean up after your little trysts, wherein you used the damn fireplace in the middle of frickin' July, and left the sheets in such a condition that I wished I had a pair of industrial strength rubber gloves to wear while I stripped the damn bed? Who do you think had to fish your used condoms out of the toilet when they didn't flush?  Oh, sure you always left one room unused, but the other?  Complete and utter pigsty, people.  But it was my job to do clean up after you, so I did it, and I left any rooms I cleaned in pristine condition for the next guest who would occupy the room. (And you bastards never once left a freakin' tip.  Five bucks left on the dresser would have made it tolerable.  But you couldn't be bothered. Cheap suckers straight from hell, you people were.  I hated you.  And I still hate you, almost twenty years later.  Suck on it, you bastards.  I hope you rot in hell.) 

So, I can understand that perhaps maintenance doesn't have a spare credenza to instantly replace a banged-up one, and has to wait for it to come in from the warehouse before the old one can be replaced.  I can understand that maybe someone was in a rush and didn't make sure all the streaks were off the bathroom mirror before they handed the room over to the supervisor for inspection, and that maybe the supervisor missed it, too.  I can understand any and all things if the rest of the room is clean and fit to be occupied.  A ding here or there doesn't bother me.  I know how it works.  But when I find a mildewed lampshade?  Or the iron is completely missing?  Or the plug has been cut off the microwave cord?  Or it looks like someone has sat on my bed, that's missing pillows, and the ones that are there don't look particularly clean or fluffy?  Or if the lightbulbs to all the lamps but one are missing?  How, then, do I have the confidence that the rest of the room is clean when you can't get the little things right? How do I know I won't get eaten alive by bedbugs?  How do I know I will be sleeping on clean sheets, or I won't catch an infection when I use the shower?  These things matter, people.  If you can't get the basics right, how am I supposed to trust you when it comes to the rest of it?

It doesn't further boost my confidence when the cleaning crew who shows up consists of one old guy who doesn't speak any English, thinks a bottle of windex will cure all, and curses right back at me in Hindi, when I try to show him what needs to be done.  It doesn't boost my confidence that you know what you're doing when the two new rooms, 218 and 220, you try to give to us haven't even been cleaned yet.   And it really doesn't help the idea that you have no frickin' clue as to what you're doing when you try to give us another two rooms, which are again, filthy, and just for fun I decide to lift up one of the mattresses during my inspection to see what's there and find a very fancy, very large pocketknife that someone has left there, God only knows how long ago.

!!!!!!!!!!!

We should have left and found another hotel.  God only knows there were plenty of them within spitting distance.  But my parents were exhausted, and because my sister's credit card points were paying for one of the rooms, and they didn't want to renege on their offer of my own room, we stayed.  For the next half hour I supervised the cleaning of my room.  I sat there, with a glass of wine, and watched these two men, who had no idea what the hell they were doing as they changed the sheets, tried to reclean the bathroom, and washed the windows.  I asked them to come back and vacuum, but they never showed up, hence it didn't get done and I refused to walk in the room barefoot.  Bleech.  

After a fitful night, we got the hell out of there as soon as may be.  I cost my parents money that night because they didn't want to go back on a promise.We should have moved hotel rooms instead of staying and dealing with the problem. And if it wasn't for the credit card points, and the promise of a bed for me, none of us would have stayed there willingly.  They shouldn't have paid for that room.  And they'd better get a big honkin "we're sorry" and refund.   I have more pictures, of more disgusting items we found, that I could post.  Believe you me, we documented everything, and this is just a small sampling. 

Suffice it to say, I sincerely hope I cost the Quality Inn on NE Evangeline Thruway in Lafayette, Louisiana, some business.  No one should stay there. PLEASE DON'T STAY THERE. I don't care that they're under new management, or that the housekeeping crew has only been there for two weeks.  Their standards suck.  Where was the head housekeeper to supervise their work?  Where was the management, to make sure that the employees did their jobs?  But moreover, where the hell are the quality inspectors that the head company should be sending out on a regular basis to make sure things are up to whatever the Quality Inn company-wide standards are?  They'd better get their asses out there, and do it, toute suite, or they're just going to ruin their brand. 

Just kill me now, would you?

Fortunately, it appears that the five Republicans in Illinois only have to suffer through seeing these plates for precisely two months---but that's still two months too long.

Heh.

Go and clicket.  You'll feel better for it. 

Would I lie to you, my devoted Cake Eater readers?