Velveteen Mind

If Matt Lauer Won't Have Me, Brian Williams Will... Not, Either.

NBC Nightly News emailed me the other day.  Yeah, the one on TV.  The one with Brian Williams.  And, no, you smart-alecs, it was not a newsletter or some such spam.  A real live NBC Nightly News staffer emailed me personally.  For my opinion.  Or, as I like to think of it when one of The Big Three calls me:  my Oh-pin-eee-yawn.  Okay, clearly I've been watching far too much The King of Queens, one of the few DVD sets we own while we have no cable.

Speaking of no cable, someone get that hooked up ASAP because I am going to be on TV!

I immediately pictured this: Brian Williams:  Tonight on NBC Nightly News, I fall in love with Megan Jordan and steal her away from Matt Lauer.

Let the Velveteen Mind love fest begin!

And may I say that it is about time that NBC noticed me?  I've been writing about Matt Lauer ever since my guest post on Plain Jane Mom, My Label Maker is Broken This Week.  In fact, it was that post that finally caught the attention of NBC News.  You know, this NBC:

Brian Williams:  So Barack, I'm thinking Megan's boobies would be about this big in person. 
What is your opinion on that matter?
Barack Obama:  You nasty, Brian.

The NBC News researcher found my "Label Maker" post while researching the topic of pollsters using labels such as "Soccer Mom" and "Security Mom" during this election.  Not the first time I have been hit up for an interview based on that guest post, mind you.  Naturally, I am the go-to blogger on the topic of politics.

Ahem.

Nevertheless, Erika Angulo had questions.  On behalf of NBC.  Which clearly means, on behalf of Matt Lauer.

Note to Erika, it's only going to get uglier from here.  I'm about to massacre our interview, so you might want to go back to work for Brian Williams right about now.  Tell him I said, "Holla!"

The brilliantly patient Erika, who had no idea of the long-winded answers she was about to receive, wanted to know if I felt labels such as "Wal-Mart Mom" are necessary to describe certain groups of voters.  Additionally, what are the main issues for mothers during this election and do I feel that John McCain, Barack Obama, and Hillary Clinton are doing a satisfactory job of addressing those issues?

The Queen of Spain is now spitting out her coffee and yelling, "Why on earth would you ask Megan, of all people?!" 
Shut up, Erin.  I am wicked smaht.

In response to Erika's questions, clearly on behalf of Brian Williams himself, I expounded as such:

"I think that our current Presidential candidates are, in fact, too concerned about what specific groups want to hear.  Hence, the mad grasping at labels so they can get a jump on what they expect to hear.   So, do I think that they are doing a good job of addressing issues of mothers today?  Yes, and I wish they'd stop.

Catering to our "interests" may be just what has helped to create the entitlement society in which we are currently living, in my humble opinion.  (You are laughing, right?)"

I wasn't sure if I had answered her question, so I went on to further not answer her question by offering my opinions about how complex mothers are today (which I will illustrate with a photo of me standing in front of ABC Studios in New York, demonstrating my opinion of Good Morning America vs. The TODAY Show on NBC):

"Many of us are struggling with rather disparate opinions when it comes to our current political environment.  Not to mention the financial environment.  What we want and need for our families may be contradictory at some point, so that leaves us grasping at three tremulous candidates.  All of which are walking on politically correct eggshells and offering very little real hope.

Can you care about gas prices but also capitalism?  Can you pay to drive your kids to soccer practice, frowning at the havoc it is wreaking on your budget, while you or your husband is earning the money for that gas by working at "The Better Mousetrap Company"?"

I think at this point, Erika was saying to herself, "Did she just answer my question?  Did she read my question?  Does she think this is a blog post?  She had better not try to turn this into a blog post."

She responded to my email with something along the lines of how my opinion was "refreshing," which I think means "completely irrelevant and uninformed" in reporter-speak.  She then went on to ask my opinion of whether or not the government should pay for child care and if employers should implement mandatory work schedules to enforce a work-life balance for mothers.

Asking a stay-at-home mother about working mothers' rights is sort of like asking a frog if birds should be allowed to fly at night. 

But I answered her anyway.  I had to answer her, because I was picturing this:

Brian Williams to Brian Williams:  I never knew such a brilliant mind existed out there.  And to think I can read Velveteen Mind any time I want.  Now, do I pronounce this political goddess's name "Meeegan" or "Meg-an"?

I would hate to deprive Brian Williams, and by extension Matt Lauer, of my profound opinions on things I have no business talking about...  or pretty much thinking about ever.

So I responded to Erika's questions about working mothers' rights with something along the lines of, "Where does it end in regards to who picks up what part of the bill?" and "Exactly when did our responsibility to make well-informed choices as parents end?  When were we granted the freedom to stop making the hard decisions, because I seem to have missed that memo?" 

Oh yeah,  and something very much like, "I don't want a SugarDaddy-in-Chief."

Then Erika emailed me back with something like, "Huh?"

And then she dropped the bomb on me:

"The story should be on msnbc.com this weekend."

What?  I thought I was going to be on TV?!  MSNBC dawt calm?!!!  That's for losers that don't have cable!

Um, apparently while I was distractedly dazzled by the photo of Brian Williams at the top of the website she sent me to in her first email, I failed to notice she had sent me to the "web exclusive" section. 

Note to NBC:  your staffers should not be allowed to send interviewees to sites with photos of people that even know Matt Lauer if they are not, in fact, going to be seduced interviewed by said person and broadcast out for all the world to see on television...  with flashing signs illuminating their cool blog's URL and such, too.  FYI.

So, I remain this close to meeting Matt Lauer:

So close, yet so far away.

And the interview consigned to msnbc.com?  It showed up on the front page that weekend, as promised, and lots and lots of people got to read all of my erudite opinions on political pollsters and the distinct lack of a need for a SugarDaddy-in-Chief.

Wait.  Damn.  No, they didn't.  My bit was cut down to a couple of lame soundbites that Goose, my one year old, could have given.  I have no idea why they cut out my comedy routine.

I'm here all week, folks.

PS-  NBC the television network: 

I am available to fly (at your cost) to New York and appear on the TODAY Show or NBC Nightly News or any of your other shows that are housed in the vicinity of Matt Lauer's dressing room any time.  I even know where to find you, though a limo to Rockefeller Plaza would not be turned down.

PPS-  I know I told you there was going to be some "tongue" involved in this post, but the photo of me, well, sort of licking Matt Lauer has been compromised.  Don't be too disappointed, though, because his face may or may not have been made of cardboard.

PPPS-  NBC also interviewed Erika Jurney from Plain Jane Mom for the same piece and she came off sounding smart.  Whatever.  When she starts seeing bumper stickers that say "SugarDaddy-in-Chief" she'll be jealous.

************

Related Posts:

What's Important This Election, Mom? by Erika Angulo on msnbc.com

Phrase Anatomy:  Who will be the "Soccer Moms" of 2008 Campaign? by Jennifer A. Dlouhy, Hearst Newspapers

I Am Your Very Own Dichotomy.

Who's Afraid of the Queen of Spain?

My Label Maker is Broken This Week.  guest post on Plain Jane Mom

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I Am Your Very Own Dichotomy.

Occasionally, I just walk out of the house and leave the family to fend for themselves.  I grab my purse, my phone, and my keys, yell something like, "Good luck, suckers!" over my shoulder, and hit the road.

I am a road person.

The other night, I did just that.  It had not been a particularly difficult day, but it had been a long couple of weeks.  Maguire came home from work and my heart unexpectedly slipped out the door behind him as he entered.  I had no choice but to follow.

I haven't mentioned this, but I have a new car.  A "new to me" car.  Guess what it is?  You'll never guess.  Moosh?  You might know.

It's a white Volvo V70 wagon.  My dream car. 

Of course, it is not new.  I bought it for very close to an even trade for the land yacht that was my Dad's old emerald green Lincoln Towncar.  I suspect there is a hamster in the engine running around frantically taping everything together, laughing in a bewildered way about how I could be so blinded by the boxy loveliness so as to not notice that I was being taken...  but it is mine.  I finally have my own car again.

And I work it hard.  In particular, I work the CD player.  Haven't had one of those in years.

The soundtrack for my solo escape road trip along the Mississippi Gulf Coast beaches the other evening was Ani DiFranco's Canon, a 2-disc compilation of some of her best songs.  My husband introduced me to Ani DiFranco in college and I was sold immediately and ever since.  One of the only performers I never tire of, and I get tired of music shamefully fast.

Fueled on by Ani's voice berating government, penises, and Righteous Babes who have their panties on a little too tight, I made my way along the scenic beach highway.  One thing I love about the Mississippi Gulf Coast is that from Gulfport to Bay St. Louis, there are almost no structures built on the beach-side of the highway.  Drivers are afforded unobstructed views of the water for miles.

This makes for a fine brainstorming environment.  I busy part of my mind with driving, just enough to keep the random, distracting noise at bay, and leave the rest of my mind to solve solve solve.

On this particular evening, I was unaware of any unresolved issues for which I was setting out to solve.  However, an hour into the drive, just as I was making it across the Bay St. Louis bridge from Pass Christian, the tears began to fall.

They were those hot tears, those silent tears, the ones that just drop drop drop.

The ones that surprise you.  The ones that have been waiting, silently, patiently, and of which you were too busy to be aware.  Until they find the break.

I would love to be able to tell you why I was crying.  I do not know.  It was our internal release valve, I think.   No one thing in particular, it was just time to relieve some pressure.

So I drove.  And I cried.  And I listened to Ani DiFranco.

I thought about how I never listen to music anymore.  Since living in New Orleans, I have become an avid talk radio listener.  It started with the New Orleans station WRBH, Radio for the  Blind and Print Handicap.  They would read books on air, as well as magazine articles, but my favorite was the show on which they read the drugstore ads.  Literally.  It was hilarious.

The best show was on a day when a little old lady was reading the Rite Aid ads and said, "Let's see, you can get 300 count Vitamin C for...  let me see...  oh, shoot, I can't read that small print.  Just go in and tell them you want the Vitamin C deal."  The irony was so sweet, I can't even tell you.  I just wanted to kiss her.

Nevertheless, it hooked me on talk radio.  Now I listen to shows like Glenn Beck and Rush Limbaugh.  They are on when I am in the car during the day, so they are my guys.  I don't always agree with their politics, but I am never disappointed in the discussion.  I welcome the questions they force me to consider.

Ani DiFranco is a master at that.  She does not disguise her politics and pleads for you to open your eyes.  She makes me face social problems I might otherwise not consider.  She invites me to question my beliefs.

Glenn Beck and Rush Limbaugh might be two of the most conservative voices in the media today.

Ani DiFranco might be one of the most liberal voices in the greater media today.

They share my ear equally.

They propel my voice equally.

And their opinions could not be more disparate.

“The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposing ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function.” 
F. Scott Fitzgerald

I see the discussions in my comments sections regarding politics.  You ask each other, "Is it possible to be socially liberal and fiscally conservative?"  "Are not conservativism and liberalism mutually exclusive?"  "How can you straddle this fence?"

These questions can easily apply well beyond the political boundaries.

When I posted the photo of my shoes in Summer Shoe Choices:  I Am a Punk Rock Florida Retiree, I wasn't really asking you what shoes I should wear to San Francisco.  I was sharing with you the dichotomy that is me.  That is all of us.

We are so much more than labels.  We are so much more than conservatives and liberals, Rebublicans and Democrats, mothers and wives, bloggers and writers, consumers and marketers.

So I listen to Glenn Beck with ears wide open.  And I savor the moments when I listen to Ani DiFranco, as I feel her words physically enter my heart.

"I use my dress to wipe up my drink.  I care less and less what people think." 

Ani DiFranco, Dilate

I drove along the beach as evening turned to night, and I watched the wind blow thin streams of sand across the road.  My headlights illuminated the sand as though it was fog.  I was driving through time itself. 

I drove along the waterline of Bay St. Louis, Mississippi, and I experienced all that is splendor and desolation.  Two years after Hurricane Katrina and one lot will be filled to the property lines with a magnificent reproduction of a Southern plantation home while the next lot will hold a FEMA trailer with a spray-painted plywood sign near the road that reads, "AllState and State Farm:  The Axis of Evil."

This is not my political statement.  This is not about that. 

This is about the complex labyrinth that is us.

And sometimes it makes me feel as though I am split down the middle.

Sometimes it makes me cry.

Sometimes it makes me rejoice.

Today it makes me reach out.  For no reason other than because I can.

*********

Related Posts:
Glenn Beck's Responsibility Bead-Down.  I'm In.
Who's Afraid of the Queen of Spain?
Camille Was a Lady.  Katrina Was a Bitch.

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Glenn Beck's Responsibility Beat-Down. I'm in.

I have a secret.  I am a huge fan of Glenn Beck.  I don't care if you are a conservative or a liberal, his talk radio show is one of the most common sense programs on the air.  Good, old-fashioned, small town common sense.

I listen to him on the way to Pants's school and often find myself just driving around while Goose naps in the backseat and I finish listening to the show in the car.  And you know I'm not a political wonk. 
Rather, all politics aside, I think his radio show is a must-listen for today's parents.

Now I'll tell you why.

Glenn Beck advocates personal responsibility.

[insert half of America falling off of their chairs at the horror.]

Imagine accepting consequences for our own actions and choices.  Not expecting anyone to bail us out or smooth things over.  Not getting an endless number of second chances.  Not exploiting every opportunity to place the blame anywhere other than on our own shoulders.

Imagine.  All the people.  Taking responsibility.

It's not easy, Mr. Lennon, even if you try.

Did you hear about the teen girl beating in Lakeland, Florida?  I hadn't until I turned on the radio this morning, as we have opted to not turn the cable on in our new house.  Call it an experiment.

I felt literally sick listening to excerpts of Matt Lauer's interview on the TODAY Show with the mother of one of the attackers.   The excuses.  The explanations.  The justifications.  I was honestly just sick.

I wanted to smack her.  How do you like that for irony?

From the TODAY show site:

For 30 minutes, six girls ganged up on a classmate, slamming her head into a wall and taking turns pummeling her and videotaping it all to post on the Internet. And when they were arrested and were being booked into juvenile detention, they joked about not being able to go to the beach, a Florida sheriff said Tuesday on TODAY.

The emphasis above is mine.  Because, seriously.

At one point in the video, you can hear the girl holding the video camera say, "There's only 17 seconds left. Make it good."

Good God, people. 

And these were not completely trashy girls.  I mean, yes, they are clearly trashy, but they are not "not my daughter."  These are seemingly average teenage girls, aside from the fact that they are demented animals.

What the hell is going on?

Our children are becoming desensitized.  Their understanding of the difference between right and wrong, or worse, their accountability for the difference between right and wrong, has become skewed.  I, for one, want to fight this , but I feel like I'm punching at air.

No, I'm not one of those moms that won't let her little boys play with guns, but I don't allow them to watch violent movies or video games. 

That is, not anymore.

When Pants was younger (and he's 3 and a half, so we are talking very young here), I let him watch Spider-Man and Superman and only peripherally explained that the violence was "pretend fighting" and that "you know never to hit anyone," blah blah blah.

Because at the end of the day, what part of his tiny little developing brain was getting all of the anti-violence language with which I was dowsing him?  Was he hearing anything other than "blah blah blah" as his little eyes took in the flashy costumes and exciting music?

I realized I had made a mistake when my family allowed him to watch something that I considered far too violent.  They explained that they went through the whole "never hit/ this isn't real/ this is all pretend" routine, but I knew that it was just too much. 

My family was visibly and vocally irritated with me because they felt I was arbitrarily drawing lines. What was the difference between Spider-Man and X-Men?  What was the difference between Spider-Man getting thrown against a wall in a bloody mess and Wolverine slicing someone up with knives that you can see break through his skin?

I realized that regardless of how fine the distinctions were in my own mind, I needn't make it the responsibility of anyone else to make that call.  So we began stepping back from the seemingly kid-friendly action movies.

Because I can't even find where that damn line is that is dissolving in our children's minds.

I took responsibility for a mistake that I made.  I shouldn't have let my toddler watch these comic book action movies.  It just made everything too confusing for everyone involved.

I am asking you, where does it begin?  Where does the desensitization begin where our kids start to muddle the line between reality and surreality?   Where they go beyond playing Spider-Man vs. Green Goblin in the living room and begin playing Fight Club in their basements?

And then they post it on the Internet.  On YouTube.  On MySpace.  As entertainment.

And the cycle continues.

The worst part of all of this is that the parents of the kids that took part in the beating in Florida will most likely be fighting tooth and nail to bail their kids out of this.

What I wouldn't give to see one of those parents say, "You have got to be kidding me.  You can sit your butt in jail.  I'm not fixing this for you."

Glenn Beck said that he would love to see these kids serve real time as adults for this.  Count me in.

Because when I was the age of these kids, which is approximately 16, I knew damn well what I was doing.  And I would have deserved to go to jail.

And my parents would have probably bailed me out.

The easiest way to make life hard for your kids is to make it soft for them.

Look, I know that this post is muddled in itself.  I am blaming the parents, I am blaming the media, I am blaming the kids.  I am all over the place.  Because I am confused.  And angry.  And disconcerted.

I need to boil this down:

A lack of parental guidance combined with a lack of the teaching and exemplification of personal responsibility and accountability are, in my opinion, at the root of this.

Am I wrong?

What do we do now?

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100th-ish Post. 100 Things. Sex, Drugs, and Satan Detectors.

There's a party in my blog!  So yummy!  So yummy!  (That's right, I am insistent that Yo Gabba Gabba! is a rockin' show for the drunk toddler in you.  Do you still dare to defy me on this?)

Happy 100th post to me!  Or 101st post, but whatever.  Blogging Rules state that I am now obliged to post 100 things about me that you didn't know, didn't want to know, could care less about, and will probably skip with the hope that I'll stop posting about Bill Maher, boobs, and get back to regular posting soon.  Well, first of all, don't tell me what to do, and second of all, I'm not posting tomorrow, either.  Nope, it's the first day of my Saturday Squatters and I've got one of my favorite bloggers lined up, so you and Bill Maher can both suck it.  ;)

Do you like how I make it to 100 posts and start talking serious smack to my loyal readers?  And then my loyal readers mutter, "Start talking smack?  She's got to be kidding."

And now, because I fully expect many of you to skip this post (who doesn't love memes?  come on!) despite the fact that I am about to talk about such things as Barbie doing Ken and Satan detectors implanted into brains, I'm dropping my 100 things into the "continue reading" link and leaving you with this final thought on the magic that is Yo Gabba Gabba!

Bill Maher meets Suburban Oblivion. Masturbation vs. Breastfeeding. Let's whip 'em out.

Bill Maher likened breastfeeding in public to masturbating in public.

Then Sara at Suburban Oblivion ate his head.  But not before she kicked him in the balls.

This was supposed to be a simple post to redirect you to Sara's post of Bill Maher- Applebee'€™s Nurse-in and Lactivism Are a Waste of Time, Breastfeed in Private.  I wanted to add a funny picture of a giant woman eating a cowering man.  Somewhere along the line in my Google searches, I became a lot more interested in the story, though. 

As I mentioned in Sara's comments, if someone as intelligent as Bill Maher could display such verbal diarrhea of ignorance, imagine what the Lowest Common Denominator out there must think of breastfeeding in public.  I'm at a loss for words.

But I'll get over that.

I couldn't put this (I'll be gracious here) lapse in judgment on Bill Maher's part into words better than Sara, so I'll stick to my original plan of redirecting you to her brilliant post.  Spread it along, won't you?  It's worth it.  So worth it that she was picked up by The Lactivist (one of the absolute best sources for all things breastfeeding related) and the Queen of Spain's Erin Kotecki Vest at The Huffington Post.  The Huffington Post, people.   It was that good.

Breastfeeding in public is not a new controversy.  I have not, however, heard it compared to masturbating in public before.  Nice.

Then there's the whole Facebook banning images of mothers breastfeeding their own infants because it violates their "obscene content" policy.  I can't even begin to...  I mean...  seriously?

I am a breastfeeding mother.  I breastfed Pants until he was 15 months old and I am still breastfeeding Goose at 14 months now. 

When I first began breastfeeding, we lived in New Orleans and even there, in the city of "Show Your Tits," I was a little hesitant to breastfeed in public.  I mean, between the image of a man grabbing my breast on Bourbon Street and a baby attached to one in the park, I was pretty sure I'd be more likely to be offered praise, if not beads, by the sight of the man getting his grope on there.

So I covered up.  In the dead heat of the Louisiana summer in Audubon Park.  I tried to "plan ahead" and feed the baby while cramped in the car in a parking lot before going in anywhere.  I hid out in dressing rooms and, yes, bathrooms at the mall.  I was immensely relieved and grateful if an establishment offered a "nursing room."

Often, I would schedule my errands around where I could nurse my baby.  One of my favorite stops was Babies R Us because they had a "Nursing Mothers Room."  I would strategically plan my errands so that Babies R Us fell in the middle so that I could get some comfortable nursing in at some point. 

One day, after nursing Pants at Babies R Us, I noticed a mother nursing her baby in one of the rocking chairs for sale right outside of the nursing room.  I greeted her warmly and mentioned that they had a nice nursing room if she wanted to use it.  She graciously smiled and said, "No, but thank you.  I think it's important for people to see me nurse my baby right out here in public.  We shouldn't have to hide if we don't want to.  Good for you for being a breastfeeding mother, though.  It's the best thing you can do." 

I was speechless.  I felt like I had offended her and I also felt embarrassed that I had allowed myself to feel like I should hide myself and my baby when nursing.  Granted, when given the option of a dedicated nursing room versus nursing in public, I might have still chosen the nursing room, but still.  My feelings of embarrassment and (possibly) indecent exposure were not my own.

Yet this feeling of needing to be as inoffensive as possible ran deep.  Even when visiting family and friends, I would excuse myself and go nurse my baby in a bedroom, out of sight of any potentially offended eyes.

Then one day while at my husband's grandmother's home, I excused myself to go nurse Pants in her bedroom.  His grandmother, Mema, offered to show me where I could sit in the rocker in her bedroom.  Now, Mema was pretty damn old at this point and took about half an hour to walk down the hall, which was about 18 feet long to her bedroom.  I knew quite well where her bedroom rocking chair was, but I allowed her to show me the way anyway.

As we made the slow walk down the hallway, I couldn't figure out for the life of me why she wanted to go with me.  Once in the rocker, she hesitated at the doorway, smiling patiently and not saying anything.  I had no idea what she was waiting for, so I just smiled back while Pants squirmed and tried to fumble his four-month-old chubby hands around my still-unexposed breasts.  What was the hold-up, lady?

Finally, I knew Pants could wait no longer so I unhooked my nursing bra and helped Pants to latch onto my breast.  Mema watched every motion closely.  This was what she had been waiting for.  She smiled so gently it made my heart ache.  She wanted to see me breastfeed my baby.  She wanted to see a young mother breastfeed an infant.  Not to be sappy, but it was as though a little bit of the glow of youth shown across the room and softened her features as she watched.  There is no other way for me to explain it.

My self-consciousness almost kept me from sharing that moment with a beautiful older mother.  A mother who wanted to remember.  A mother who still had lessons to teach to this new generation of hardly-more-enlightened breeders.

Now, even in Mississippi, I whip it out whenever the milk is demanded.  I don't hide the fact that I breastfeed.  I want to do my small part to de-stigmatize breastfeeding in public.  I don't let my whole boob hang out, but I don't smother us under a blanket, either.  Besides, I don't know about you, but I don't seem to make babies who take kindly to being hidden under blankets.  What we end up with is a repeatedly thrown blanket, a howling baby, and a fully exposed breast.  Is that what you wanted, Bill Maher?

Go read Bill Maher- Applebee’s Nurse-in and Lactivism Are a Waste of Time, Breastfeed in Private over at Suburban Oblivion.  Join the conversation.  Spread the word.  Breastfeeding is an intimate act, yes, but it is not indecent and it is certainly not in any way comparable to masturbation.

 

Yeah, I have a sense of humor, but I don't take kindly to the propagation of ignorance.  Who is the Oblivious One, anyway?

 

Click on any of the pictures for links to great sites about breastfeeding, more information about the International Breastfeeding Symbol, as well as articles about public breastfeeding debates.

A special note:  Visit Hathor the CowGoddess and the Evolution Revolution for absolutely hilarious cartoons about breastfeeding and satisfyingly intelligent conversation about breastfeeding rights and debates.

First and foremost, visit Suburban Oblivion and give Bill Maher hell for me.  Yeah, how'd I do with that quick link to Sara's post?  Just get in and get out and nobody gets hurt.  That's what I tell myself every time I sit down at this computer.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

A simple redirect to Suburban Oblivion (I know, I know, I missed the target there) has turned into a full blown firestorm.  Nice work, Sara.  Follow along, share your links, keep the discussion going.  Let me know if you have a post you want to share because I've clearly already blown my "short redirect" goal, so let's bring it on!  Updates to follow as the new links continue to come in:

• Boycott Bill Maher! by VDog and Little Man
• Annual "Boob against Boobs" rant by Triple Venti
• Bill Maher is a BOOB by Domestic Psychology
• My two breasts, I mean, cents by Poot and Cubby
• Boob Juice by A Whole Lot of Nothing
• Blogs Abuzz when Bill Maher Slams Lactivism on Strollerderby by Kelly Mills
• How I became one of THOSE women by Problem Girl
• Bill Maher Talks Breasts and Other Nursing Notes from the Blogosphere by Working Dad:  An Unauthorized Guide to Parenting
• OK, Facebook, Let Me Get This Straight by A Mommy Story
• Az the Husband has a Message for Bill Maher by Toddled Dredge
• Bill Maher Makes this Lactivist Want to Breastfeed on his Front Porch and Bring My Friends by Suburban Oblivion
• Dear Bill Maher, Let's Talk Breasts.  And Feeding. by A Mommy Story
• A Radical Act (or Suck It, Bill Maher!) by Lawyer Mama
• Breastfeeding In Public (Warning- Offensive Content) by Mojo of a Mama (easily one of my favorite posts so far, and she has lots of pictures, just like me, but even better)
• Beer, breastmilk--  Whatever gets you through the night by Mayberry Mom
• I deserve a medal from needs new batteries
• Dear Facebook and Bill Maher:  You're Idiots by A Mom, A Blog, and the Life In-Between
• Breast Practices??? by PunditMom
• First MySpace, Then Facebook, Now Harvard? by IzzyMom
• Bill Maher is a Misogynistic Anti-Breastfeeding Pig by Tennessee Guerilla Women
• Society!  You Need to Grow Up! by Blooming Marvelous
• Wordless Wednesday:  An Ode to Bill Maher by Get in the Car!

The best way to keep the conversation going is to Stumble and SK*RT everyone's posts.  Submit it wherever you see fit.  Just click the appropriate buttons and viola!  Spread the word.  Disagree?  Then rally your own troops the same way.  We can take it.  Just play fair and you can keep your (literal or figurative) balls. 

Now bring him hell.

Watch the video for yourself of Bill Maher's comments.

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Edited to add: 

Tune in to the live BOOB podcast Wednesday, Sept. 19, at 8pm Central on BlogTalkRadio.  My fellow BOOBs and I will be talking about, you guessed it, Bill Maher and all things masturbatory public breastfeeding.  Call in and give it to us, baby!  Yeah, even you anti-public breastfeeding folks.  We'd love to hear from you!  If you miss it, check out the archives anytime.