Sunday, May 30, 2004
Friday, er Sunday Filler
Too exhausted by the weight of the WaPo's attacks against Dubya this morning to comment on them. Instead, while waiting around for the dew to burn off so I can mow the lawn, I came across this little exercise courtesy of John over at TexasBestGrok:
FIRSTS
First job: Medical lab in San Antonio. I had my own white coat and radiation badge and thought I was pretty cool.
First self-purchased CD: I had a huge cassette collection in college/law school and didn't start buying CDs until relatively late. So far as I can remember, my first was Handel's Water Music. I still don't have half as many CDs as I did cassettes. (My first self-purchased cassette was of Mozart's four Horn Concerti.)
First piercing/tattoo: Me? Are you kidding?
First enemy: Well, that's tough to say. I do remember that in 7th grade some kid whose name now escapes me decided to try and bully me while we were waiting for the bus home. (I was rather chubby and wore glasses, so I guess I seemed an easy mark.) Anyway, when he went for me I astounded myself, him and half the school population by swinging back. I managed to get in several solid hits before a teacher eventually pulled us apart and marched us off to the vice principal's office. As this was South Texas in the mid 70's I wound up getting paddled for it. (Although in a nudge and a wink that I had done the right thing, the VP only gave me one smack while the other kid got six.)
LASTS
Last big car ride: DC to Orr's Island, Maine and back. Annual vacation trip.
Last kiss: Just now - my four year old is hovering around as I write this.
Last library book checked out: It must have been in college. In the spring of my senior year I took seminars on Gothic cathedral architecture and medieval technology, both courses that involved library research.
Last movie seen: In a theatre, Love, Actually. To think I wasted money on that.... On pay-per-view, saw Matrix Revolutions the other night. Glad I got the $2.99 special, because I would have been upset had I paid full price for this dog. On television, watched For A Few Dollars More last night. Last DVD I popped in was The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, which has always delighted me.
Last beverage consumed: Coffee. Still working on it.
Last food consumed: English muffins with peanut butter.
Last phone call: Don't remember.
Last CD played: Schubert's Symphony No. 9, Solti and the Vienna Philharmonic.
Last annoyance: The kids are bouncing off the walls this morning.
Last pop consumed: Whoever originated this list evidently came from Ohio. 'Round here, it's all known as "Coke". And I haven't had any in years. Don't like the stuff.
Last ice cream eaten: Can't remember. I have no sweet-tooth whatsoever, so very, very rarely eat desserts.
Last shirt worn: George Washington University crew betting shirt (picked up at the Dad Vails Regatta in Philadelphia in 1986).
I....
I AM: Very tired.
I HAVE: Too much time and too little to do. Wait. Strike that. Reverse it.
I WISH: I could reverse it.
I HEAR: The ritual Search For The Lost Binky going on downstairs.
I SEARCH: For the binky if they haven't found it by the time I'm done with this. Oh - never mind.
I REGRET: Not that much, really. Which is surprising.
I LOVE: Well, the Butcher's Wife and the Llama-ettes, of course.
I ALWAYS: Worry. This is why I'm so thin.
FAVORITES
NUMBER: Nine and twelve. And their multiples. Don't ask - I don't know why.
COLOR: Navy blue.
DAY: Unlike Arthur Dent, I've always liked Thursdays.
MONTH: October/November
SONG(S): Geesh - way too many to choose from. One that's been stuck in my mind the past few days is Cole Porter's "Too Darn Hot".
SEASON: Fall.
DRINK: French or Italian red wine. Vodka martinis.
Too exhausted by the weight of the WaPo's attacks against Dubya this morning to comment on them. Instead, while waiting around for the dew to burn off so I can mow the lawn, I came across this little exercise courtesy of John over at TexasBestGrok:
FIRSTS
First job: Medical lab in San Antonio. I had my own white coat and radiation badge and thought I was pretty cool.
First self-purchased CD: I had a huge cassette collection in college/law school and didn't start buying CDs until relatively late. So far as I can remember, my first was Handel's Water Music. I still don't have half as many CDs as I did cassettes. (My first self-purchased cassette was of Mozart's four Horn Concerti.)
First piercing/tattoo: Me? Are you kidding?
First enemy: Well, that's tough to say. I do remember that in 7th grade some kid whose name now escapes me decided to try and bully me while we were waiting for the bus home. (I was rather chubby and wore glasses, so I guess I seemed an easy mark.) Anyway, when he went for me I astounded myself, him and half the school population by swinging back. I managed to get in several solid hits before a teacher eventually pulled us apart and marched us off to the vice principal's office. As this was South Texas in the mid 70's I wound up getting paddled for it. (Although in a nudge and a wink that I had done the right thing, the VP only gave me one smack while the other kid got six.)
LASTS
Last big car ride: DC to Orr's Island, Maine and back. Annual vacation trip.
Last kiss: Just now - my four year old is hovering around as I write this.
Last library book checked out: It must have been in college. In the spring of my senior year I took seminars on Gothic cathedral architecture and medieval technology, both courses that involved library research.
Last movie seen: In a theatre, Love, Actually. To think I wasted money on that.... On pay-per-view, saw Matrix Revolutions the other night. Glad I got the $2.99 special, because I would have been upset had I paid full price for this dog. On television, watched For A Few Dollars More last night. Last DVD I popped in was The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, which has always delighted me.
Last beverage consumed: Coffee. Still working on it.
Last food consumed: English muffins with peanut butter.
Last phone call: Don't remember.
Last CD played: Schubert's Symphony No. 9, Solti and the Vienna Philharmonic.
Last annoyance: The kids are bouncing off the walls this morning.
Last pop consumed: Whoever originated this list evidently came from Ohio. 'Round here, it's all known as "Coke". And I haven't had any in years. Don't like the stuff.
Last ice cream eaten: Can't remember. I have no sweet-tooth whatsoever, so very, very rarely eat desserts.
Last shirt worn: George Washington University crew betting shirt (picked up at the Dad Vails Regatta in Philadelphia in 1986).
I....
I AM: Very tired.
I HAVE: Too much time and too little to do. Wait. Strike that. Reverse it.
I WISH: I could reverse it.
I HEAR: The ritual Search For The Lost Binky going on downstairs.
I SEARCH: For the binky if they haven't found it by the time I'm done with this. Oh - never mind.
I REGRET: Not that much, really. Which is surprising.
I LOVE: Well, the Butcher's Wife and the Llama-ettes, of course.
I ALWAYS: Worry. This is why I'm so thin.
FAVORITES
NUMBER: Nine and twelve. And their multiples. Don't ask - I don't know why.
COLOR: Navy blue.
DAY: Unlike Arthur Dent, I've always liked Thursdays.
MONTH: October/November
SONG(S): Geesh - way too many to choose from. One that's been stuck in my mind the past few days is Cole Porter's "Too Darn Hot".
SEASON: Fall.
DRINK: French or Italian red wine. Vodka martinis.
Friday, May 28, 2004
An ethical dilemma....
I need your help here: I came across this picture (where else?) from a link via Dominius Instapunditium. You know me, I like to pshop somewhat, er, outrageously, but I've got an ethical dilemma and I need some guidance from you the loyal readership.
Here's the picture in its original glory:
Okay, it should be obvious: all you need is a picture of Osama from (how do I put this delicately? ah yes) behind. Now, I know what Allahpundit would do (blessed be his holy name)--the question is, should I cross the pshop Rubicon on this one?
I need your help here: I came across this picture (where else?) from a link via Dominius Instapunditium. You know me, I like to pshop somewhat, er, outrageously, but I've got an ethical dilemma and I need some guidance from you the loyal readership.
Here's the picture in its original glory:
Okay, it should be obvious: all you need is a picture of Osama from (how do I put this delicately? ah yes) behind. Now, I know what Allahpundit would do (blessed be his holy name)--the question is, should I cross the pshop Rubicon on this one?
Llama Quickie
Just poking my head into the shop for a moment this morning - I'm off in a bit to partake in Sports Day at the girls' school. I am Team Leader for my six year old's team. (We're the Lobster A Team, in case you're interested. And Ah pity da fool who jokes about melted butter and lemon!)
Anyhoo, probably not much chance to post until later on this evening. In the meantime, two things:
First, I'm very glad to see that Steve-O Is In The House. Something tells me he is going to hit new heights with the materials he collected in Frog-Land. And why not? It's not as if they're ever going to let him back in anyway. Stand by for some super-sized treats!
Second, to pick up on a theme I've been playing with all week, let me quote to you Stephen Hunter's description of Roland Emmerich, director of the hilariously bad Day After Tomorrow, from today's Pravda on the Potomac:
Heh, indeed.
Yip at you later!
Just poking my head into the shop for a moment this morning - I'm off in a bit to partake in Sports Day at the girls' school. I am Team Leader for my six year old's team. (We're the Lobster A Team, in case you're interested. And Ah pity da fool who jokes about melted butter and lemon!)
Anyhoo, probably not much chance to post until later on this evening. In the meantime, two things:
First, I'm very glad to see that Steve-O Is In The House. Something tells me he is going to hit new heights with the materials he collected in Frog-Land. And why not? It's not as if they're ever going to let him back in anyway. Stand by for some super-sized treats!
Second, to pick up on a theme I've been playing with all week, let me quote to you Stephen Hunter's description of Roland Emmerich, director of the hilariously bad Day After Tomorrow, from today's Pravda on the Potomac:
He's crude, stupid, slick, cornball, predictable, laughable, relentless, trivial and, the sum of all these, ridiculous. He's never made a movie you could believe and he still hasn't.
Heh, indeed.
Yip at you later!
The sacrifices I'm willing to make to bring you the Tasty Bits (TM)
Well, I'm back from my trip even more frightening than Dante's midlife night-time journey into Hell: yes, a llamabutcher loose for a week in Paris.
This is just a tease, though: I've got to unpack and get my head straight and such, so I won't be able to start posting until later, but boy do I have the beaucoup bits for vous! Some previews: blowing the lid off all the gaullic-evil that is Frank J. and imao.us (we've got the pics to prove it!); Steve the Llamabutcher out and about in his "CIA" baseball hat confronts a protest parade of cheese-eating moonbats (let's just say I've got to go on babelfish to find out what the French word is for "bong-mobile"--trust me on this one); my description of what I'd do if I ever won Powerball (let's just say it would involve Pep & Liz from Truly Bad Films and a cafe to be renamed "Chez Nixon"); a little photo-essay involving me getting kicked out of the viewer's area of a military ceremony at Les Invalides by a seriously pissed off French policeman (I'm christening it the new "What Would Blackfive Do?" category); and a quasi-serious little essay on Franco-American relations---how the 9/10ths of the regular folks I met have no problem with us, but how the elites are a bunch of vicious anti-semetic America-haters and why, plus, a little pshop fun of my explanation of what keeps hommes like this dude wetting their beds at night: just call it Steve the Llamabutcher's prediction of what the Sixth Republic might look like.
All that, plus the big move over to mu.nu by the end of the weekend, plus my deranged parents are coming through town---sounds like a Memorial Day weekend to remember!
Well, I'm back from my trip even more frightening than Dante's midlife night-time journey into Hell: yes, a llamabutcher loose for a week in Paris.
This is just a tease, though: I've got to unpack and get my head straight and such, so I won't be able to start posting until later, but boy do I have the beaucoup bits for vous! Some previews: blowing the lid off all the gaullic-evil that is Frank J. and imao.us (we've got the pics to prove it!); Steve the Llamabutcher out and about in his "CIA" baseball hat confronts a protest parade of cheese-eating moonbats (let's just say I've got to go on babelfish to find out what the French word is for "bong-mobile"--trust me on this one); my description of what I'd do if I ever won Powerball (let's just say it would involve Pep & Liz from Truly Bad Films and a cafe to be renamed "Chez Nixon"); a little photo-essay involving me getting kicked out of the viewer's area of a military ceremony at Les Invalides by a seriously pissed off French policeman (I'm christening it the new "What Would Blackfive Do?" category); and a quasi-serious little essay on Franco-American relations---how the 9/10ths of the regular folks I met have no problem with us, but how the elites are a bunch of vicious anti-semetic America-haters and why, plus, a little pshop fun of my explanation of what keeps hommes like this dude wetting their beds at night: just call it Steve the Llamabutcher's prediction of what the Sixth Republic might look like.
All that, plus the big move over to mu.nu by the end of the weekend, plus my deranged parents are coming through town---sounds like a Memorial Day weekend to remember!
Thursday, May 27, 2004
The Wee-Wee Chronicles
I find this story about life imitating art to be immensely amusing. (The lack of adequate female restrooms in public buildings is all a sexist plot, by the way. Really. I was on the Committee.)
Alas - a quick look at the website for Urinetown: The Musical leaves me puzzled whether this is supposed to be biting social commentary or just plain potty humor. At least reading the reviews definitely made me want to hurl.
Thanks very much to Outer Life, which I just noticed has blogrolled us as well.
I find this story about life imitating art to be immensely amusing. (The lack of adequate female restrooms in public buildings is all a sexist plot, by the way. Really. I was on the Committee.)
Alas - a quick look at the website for Urinetown: The Musical leaves me puzzled whether this is supposed to be biting social commentary or just plain potty humor. At least reading the reviews definitely made me want to hurl.
Thanks very much to Outer Life, which I just noticed has blogrolled us as well.
Travels To Middle Earth
Here is a large and nifty collection of essays which, if a quick glance through the index is any indication, cover just about every aspect of Tolkien's world that you can think of. Go on over and browse. Far better than wasting your time on naaaaasty, wicked, tricksy, false moviesssssss. We hates them.
Thanks to the Silver Fox.
Here is a large and nifty collection of essays which, if a quick glance through the index is any indication, cover just about every aspect of Tolkien's world that you can think of. Go on over and browse. Far better than wasting your time on naaaaasty, wicked, tricksy, false moviesssssss. We hates them.
Thanks to the Silver Fox.
More On Waugh
Dr. Curmudgeon tries very hard to find some silver lining in the new remake of Brideshead Revisited that strips the novel of its Catholicism and turns religious faith into the central problem of the story:
My gloomy view is don't bet on it.
HT to Enoch Soames.
Dr. Curmudgeon tries very hard to find some silver lining in the new remake of Brideshead Revisited that strips the novel of its Catholicism and turns religious faith into the central problem of the story:
And yet, and yet. Can we perhaps be the optimist here? It is hard. Can the movie bring a remnant few to the original book (much like myself several years back), to read those concluding lines when Charles returns to the Marchmain chapel, to see the small red flame -- a beaten-copper lamp of deplorable design, relit before the beaten-copper doors of the tabernacle; the flame which the old knights saw from their tombs, which they saw put out; that flame burns again for other soldiers, far from home, farther, in heart, than Acre or Jerusalem. It could not have been lit but for the builders and the tragedians, and there I found it this morning, burning anew among the old stones.
Perhaps that's all we can ask.
My gloomy view is don't bet on it.
HT to Enoch Soames.
Cicada Watch - Update
Since the cicada outbreak 'round here, I've said a couple times that the collective noise they generate sounds like the old Star Trek phaser effect. (See here and here.)
Well thanks to the miracle of modern technology, Michael Pollard will let you judge for yourself!
Go check it out and then answer me this - am I wrong?
Since the cicada outbreak 'round here, I've said a couple times that the collective noise they generate sounds like the old Star Trek phaser effect. (See here and here.)
Well thanks to the miracle of modern technology, Michael Pollard will let you judge for yourself!
Go check it out and then answer me this - am I wrong?
I Knew It!
The other day I was ranting about the infuriating cheerfulness of clowns under even the worst of conditions. Prompted by intel that one such Uber-joy jockey that I had encountered ran an anger management seminar, I theorized that behind that excessively sunny front must lurk a dark interior, a Dorian Gray-like depository for all their uglier urges, just waiting for the closet door to burst open.
Well, our friend INDC Bill sent me this article, which would seem to confirm my theory. Whether it's smoldering rage or sick perversion, underneath the ear to ear grin, the bright makeup, the floppy clothes, the fright-wig, the inspirational buttons and the goofy balloon art beats the heart of a psychopath.
UPDATE: Link fixed. Stupid clowns - agitate me so much I can't think straight!
The other day I was ranting about the infuriating cheerfulness of clowns under even the worst of conditions. Prompted by intel that one such Uber-joy jockey that I had encountered ran an anger management seminar, I theorized that behind that excessively sunny front must lurk a dark interior, a Dorian Gray-like depository for all their uglier urges, just waiting for the closet door to burst open.
Well, our friend INDC Bill sent me this article, which would seem to confirm my theory. Whether it's smoldering rage or sick perversion, underneath the ear to ear grin, the bright makeup, the floppy clothes, the fright-wig, the inspirational buttons and the goofy balloon art beats the heart of a psychopath.
UPDATE: Link fixed. Stupid clowns - agitate me so much I can't think straight!
Gratuitous Domestic Blogging (TM) - Outdoor Division
Well, I know at least one other blogger who will be interested in this, so here goes:
As I was clearing out my raspberry brakes last fall, I discovered a peony that had been planted by the previous owner. The plant had evidently been there for several years, as it was quite large. (Why it was in the raspberries remains a mystery.) This spring, I dug it up, divided it and used the two parts to bookend my own bed of peonies on the other side of the garden gate.
Well now the thing is blooming and I have no earthly idea what it is. The bloom is a double, about three inches across, with petals that taper to a point. The petals are white at the edges, shading into pink further in. (Sorry I don't have a photo.) I'm currently scanning my catalogues trying to find a match, but have had no luck so far. Any guesses would be appreciated.
And speaking of work for the Plant-Detector Van (from the Ministry of 'ousinj - how's that for an obscure Python reference?), Lynn has been trying to identify an azalea in her domain. She has a picture and everything. Go have a look.
Well, I know at least one other blogger who will be interested in this, so here goes:
As I was clearing out my raspberry brakes last fall, I discovered a peony that had been planted by the previous owner. The plant had evidently been there for several years, as it was quite large. (Why it was in the raspberries remains a mystery.) This spring, I dug it up, divided it and used the two parts to bookend my own bed of peonies on the other side of the garden gate.
Well now the thing is blooming and I have no earthly idea what it is. The bloom is a double, about three inches across, with petals that taper to a point. The petals are white at the edges, shading into pink further in. (Sorry I don't have a photo.) I'm currently scanning my catalogues trying to find a match, but have had no luck so far. Any guesses would be appreciated.
And speaking of work for the Plant-Detector Van (from the Ministry of 'ousinj - how's that for an obscure Python reference?), Lynn has been trying to identify an azalea in her domain. She has a picture and everything. Go have a look.
Random Commuter Thoughts In Which Probably Only I Am Interested
I really think John Michael Montgomery's "Letters From Home" is a nice song. The last verse always chokes me up just a bit.
I really think John Michael Montgomery's "Letters From Home" is a nice song. The last verse always chokes me up just a bit.
Just Checking In
I'm off shortly to see my four year old's Class Day presentation, so I won't be back until some time after lunch.
In the meantime, I have to note that I finally saw the extended trailer for the end of the world flick The Day After Tomorrow. AAAAH-hahahahahaha!!!!!! Never have I seen so much silliness packed into such a small amount of film. I can't imagine what the whole thing will be like.
But it gets even better! Yes! I knew that the moonbats were making hay out of this, but did not know how far they were willing to go. Fortunately, Pep at Truly Bad Films has been doing his homework. Check out MoveOn.Org's hi-larious press release. In particular, consider the 17 year old cheerleader spirit of the thing: Hey, everybody! This is a movie about the horrors of world-wide climate disaster! AND it's a fun summer flick!
One other thing occurred to me last night: A standard moonbat line about the film is that yes, the science is a bit hyped, but that's okay because it gets people talking about global warming, which is a good thing. Well, maybe. But aren't these typically the same folks who agitate so hard to keep real images such as, oh I don't know, the World Trade Center collapsing or Nick Berg being murdered off our television screens because they might get people talking about battling Islamofascism?
Just asking.
Back later.
I'm off shortly to see my four year old's Class Day presentation, so I won't be back until some time after lunch.
In the meantime, I have to note that I finally saw the extended trailer for the end of the world flick The Day After Tomorrow. AAAAH-hahahahahaha!!!!!! Never have I seen so much silliness packed into such a small amount of film. I can't imagine what the whole thing will be like.
But it gets even better! Yes! I knew that the moonbats were making hay out of this, but did not know how far they were willing to go. Fortunately, Pep at Truly Bad Films has been doing his homework. Check out MoveOn.Org's hi-larious press release. In particular, consider the 17 year old cheerleader spirit of the thing: Hey, everybody! This is a movie about the horrors of world-wide climate disaster! AND it's a fun summer flick!
One other thing occurred to me last night: A standard moonbat line about the film is that yes, the science is a bit hyped, but that's okay because it gets people talking about global warming, which is a good thing. Well, maybe. But aren't these typically the same folks who agitate so hard to keep real images such as, oh I don't know, the World Trade Center collapsing or Nick Berg being murdered off our television screens because they might get people talking about battling Islamofascism?
Just asking.
Back later.
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
Llama Fun
Okay, this is how lame I can be sometimes. I'm about to head out. According to the radar, there is a big wodge of storms rolling in from the west, the direction I'm more or less heading. I don't want to have to put the sides up on my jeep.
The question: who gets to my garage first, me or the rain?
Yesterday, I beat the storm in by about 30 minutes. A couple weeks ago, I beat one in literally by 90 seconds.
This is how I amuse myself.
Just call me Lou. Lou Zer.
UPDATE: Okay, tonight it was no contest. I beat the rain by at least an hour and the storms all fizzled out before they hit. I say to Mother Nature: You got served!
Okay, this is how lame I can be sometimes. I'm about to head out. According to the radar, there is a big wodge of storms rolling in from the west, the direction I'm more or less heading. I don't want to have to put the sides up on my jeep.
The question: who gets to my garage first, me or the rain?
Yesterday, I beat the storm in by about 30 minutes. A couple weeks ago, I beat one in literally by 90 seconds.
This is how I amuse myself.
Just call me Lou. Lou Zer.
UPDATE: Okay, tonight it was no contest. I beat the rain by at least an hour and the storms all fizzled out before they hit. I say to Mother Nature: You got served!
Life At Ground Zero
Well, the word is out that Al Qaeda may be planning to hit us again this summer. Since I spend a substantial amount of my time half way between the White House and Capital Hill, I suppose it's fair to say that I'm in one of the areas pretty high up on the list of potential targets. (For what it's worth, I've long thought that the next hit would be the D.C. Metro. It's practically undefended and an attack would be guaranteed to produce mass slaughter and panic.)
In the end, I find that there really is not much that I can say or do about all this. My family is reasonably safe out in the Northern VA suburbs. I suppose that I run some risk of being in the wrong place at the wrong time myself, but the risk isn't all that great. A conventional explosion is going to cause highly localized damage and casualties. Even chemical, biological or radioactive weapons, which are notoriously inefficient, are not going to have much more range. (Of course, if the bad guys manage to detonate a suitcase nuke on the National Mall while I'm around, then all bets are off.) At the same time, I am unaware of any distant relative who is likely to die and leave me a vast fortune any time soon, so I am more or less obligated to keep coming into town in order to earn a living. So what can I do except get on with it and play the odds? (BTW, I'm talking about surviving the initial blast here. What the long term effects would be on the area, I have no idea. By then, my family and I probably would be very far away.)
The funny thing is that I don't have anything like the sense of jittery fear I had in the three or four months after 9/11, and to a certain lesser extent when the D.C. sniper was making the rounds. Instead, I'm finding myself almost daring these people to try and pull another Madrid. Frankly, I'm angry. In the past year or so, a lot of people in this country have forgotten that we are in a world war and have drifted back into the dreamy mindset of the false peace of the 90's. Would we really be having the sort of horse's-assed political debate we're having these days if it were otherwise? At the same time, even though nobly motivated, our operations in Iraq and elsewhere have been crippled by our goal of reforming the region in as humane, respectful and painless a way as possible. We have tiptoed around what we believe to be Middle Eastern sensibilities about everything from religion to personal dignity to historical perspective. In short, if you'll pardon the archaic term, we have fought like Gentlemen.
If Al Qaeda succeeds in pulling off a spectacular attack in the United States, whether it's Sarin in the Metro, a truck bomb in Times Square or botulism at Disney World, all of this is going to change. And Al Qaeda and every one of the scum who make up its tentacles are going to rue the day they tangled with us. I think such an attack would once and for all shake us out of any remaining complaisance or hesitation and convince us once and for all of two things: that we are indeed fighting World War IV and that the only way to remake the Middle East, the seat of our enemy, is the old fashioned way - to pound it into rubble and start from scratch.
Does this mean that I want Al Qaeda to attack in order to stiffen our resolve to fight back? Of course not. Does it mean I want to be a casualty of war. Not in the least. What it means is that I'm tired of being afraid and am not going to succumb to it this time around. And if I do get torn to shreds by shrapnel, it is of some comfort to think that this time the bad guys will pay for it dearly.
UPDATE: In the end, I guess what I was trying to say is that "terror" has already lost. You may kill some of us, but you no longer are going to frighten all of us to the point where we won't hunt you down and kill you. Sucks to be you. Just so you know.
Well, the word is out that Al Qaeda may be planning to hit us again this summer. Since I spend a substantial amount of my time half way between the White House and Capital Hill, I suppose it's fair to say that I'm in one of the areas pretty high up on the list of potential targets. (For what it's worth, I've long thought that the next hit would be the D.C. Metro. It's practically undefended and an attack would be guaranteed to produce mass slaughter and panic.)
In the end, I find that there really is not much that I can say or do about all this. My family is reasonably safe out in the Northern VA suburbs. I suppose that I run some risk of being in the wrong place at the wrong time myself, but the risk isn't all that great. A conventional explosion is going to cause highly localized damage and casualties. Even chemical, biological or radioactive weapons, which are notoriously inefficient, are not going to have much more range. (Of course, if the bad guys manage to detonate a suitcase nuke on the National Mall while I'm around, then all bets are off.) At the same time, I am unaware of any distant relative who is likely to die and leave me a vast fortune any time soon, so I am more or less obligated to keep coming into town in order to earn a living. So what can I do except get on with it and play the odds? (BTW, I'm talking about surviving the initial blast here. What the long term effects would be on the area, I have no idea. By then, my family and I probably would be very far away.)
The funny thing is that I don't have anything like the sense of jittery fear I had in the three or four months after 9/11, and to a certain lesser extent when the D.C. sniper was making the rounds. Instead, I'm finding myself almost daring these people to try and pull another Madrid. Frankly, I'm angry. In the past year or so, a lot of people in this country have forgotten that we are in a world war and have drifted back into the dreamy mindset of the false peace of the 90's. Would we really be having the sort of horse's-assed political debate we're having these days if it were otherwise? At the same time, even though nobly motivated, our operations in Iraq and elsewhere have been crippled by our goal of reforming the region in as humane, respectful and painless a way as possible. We have tiptoed around what we believe to be Middle Eastern sensibilities about everything from religion to personal dignity to historical perspective. In short, if you'll pardon the archaic term, we have fought like Gentlemen.
If Al Qaeda succeeds in pulling off a spectacular attack in the United States, whether it's Sarin in the Metro, a truck bomb in Times Square or botulism at Disney World, all of this is going to change. And Al Qaeda and every one of the scum who make up its tentacles are going to rue the day they tangled with us. I think such an attack would once and for all shake us out of any remaining complaisance or hesitation and convince us once and for all of two things: that we are indeed fighting World War IV and that the only way to remake the Middle East, the seat of our enemy, is the old fashioned way - to pound it into rubble and start from scratch.
Does this mean that I want Al Qaeda to attack in order to stiffen our resolve to fight back? Of course not. Does it mean I want to be a casualty of war. Not in the least. What it means is that I'm tired of being afraid and am not going to succumb to it this time around. And if I do get torn to shreds by shrapnel, it is of some comfort to think that this time the bad guys will pay for it dearly.
UPDATE: In the end, I guess what I was trying to say is that "terror" has already lost. You may kill some of us, but you no longer are going to frighten all of us to the point where we won't hunt you down and kill you. Sucks to be you. Just so you know.
Comrade Kerry
Apparently, there is something of a stir in Right Wing circles over a recently resurfaced 1985 photo of the haughty, French-looking Massachusetts liberal, who by the way served in Vietnam, shaking hands with Danny-Boy Ortega the then-current dictator of Nicaragua. Charmingly, the meeting in Managua, in which Ortega swore to Kerry that all he wanted was to be loved, took place but five days before Ortega flew to Moscow to receive some $200 million in Soviet funding. Heh, indeed.
As it happens, I caught about five minutes of Hannity & Colmes last night. Rich Lowry, the Fearless Leader of National Review was on to talk about the photo and Alan Colmes was trying to spike him by accusing conservatives of engaging in old-fashioned Red-baiting. Lowry didn't bite. As near as I can reproduce it, the conversation went something like this:
Game, set and match, Lowry.
Apparently, there is something of a stir in Right Wing circles over a recently resurfaced 1985 photo of the haughty, French-looking Massachusetts liberal, who by the way served in Vietnam, shaking hands with Danny-Boy Ortega the then-current dictator of Nicaragua. Charmingly, the meeting in Managua, in which Ortega swore to Kerry that all he wanted was to be loved, took place but five days before Ortega flew to Moscow to receive some $200 million in Soviet funding. Heh, indeed.
As it happens, I caught about five minutes of Hannity & Colmes last night. Rich Lowry, the Fearless Leader of National Review was on to talk about the photo and Alan Colmes was trying to spike him by accusing conservatives of engaging in old-fashioned Red-baiting. Lowry didn't bite. As near as I can reproduce it, the conversation went something like this:
Colmes: So is this what you're saying? That John Kerry is a Communist? That he's a Red?
Lowry: No, what I'm saying is that John Kerry is a foreign policy idiot.
Game, set and match, Lowry.
Llama Reading Recommendation
In an effort to bolster my level of computer knowledge, I recently picked up Dave Barry's 1996 book Dave Barry in Cyberspace. I have to say that this is easily the best Dave Barry book I've ever read.
In particular, I highly recommend a chapter called MsPtato and RayAdverb. It is really a short story in and of itself about a bored, frustrated suburban mom who strikes up an on-line romance. What is amazing is that it is genuinely good fiction.
Now don't get me wrong. I really like Barry's humor. But he's always been rather goofy about things. For years I have been used to reading his weekly columns about toilets ("Dave Barry" + toilet produces 8,820 Google hits), potty (2,240 hits), squirrel(s) (5,290 hits, collectively), booger(s) (3,550 hits, collectively) and names for rock bands (7,510 hits). And this book has plenty of that kind of humor in it. (Indeed, I snarfed a significant amount of Valpolicella the other evening reading his descriptions of various new emoticons.)
What is astounding about this particular story, though, is that Barry displays a capacity for serious writing. His characters, though sparsely drawn, are very real. The process by which his heroine slips from unappreciated wife and mother into unfaithful unappreciated wife and mother (at least in cyberspace) is exquisitely done. And Barry leaves the end hanging in a manner that had me squirming. It's as if a musician who for years has been doing rock riffs on his keyboard suddenly broke out in a Chopin etude. Quite the eye-opener.
So for both the sublime and the silly, I heartily recommend this book.
In an effort to bolster my level of computer knowledge, I recently picked up Dave Barry's 1996 book Dave Barry in Cyberspace. I have to say that this is easily the best Dave Barry book I've ever read.
In particular, I highly recommend a chapter called MsPtato and RayAdverb. It is really a short story in and of itself about a bored, frustrated suburban mom who strikes up an on-line romance. What is amazing is that it is genuinely good fiction.
Now don't get me wrong. I really like Barry's humor. But he's always been rather goofy about things. For years I have been used to reading his weekly columns about toilets ("Dave Barry" + toilet produces 8,820 Google hits), potty (2,240 hits), squirrel(s) (5,290 hits, collectively), booger(s) (3,550 hits, collectively) and names for rock bands (7,510 hits). And this book has plenty of that kind of humor in it. (Indeed, I snarfed a significant amount of Valpolicella the other evening reading his descriptions of various new emoticons.)
What is astounding about this particular story, though, is that Barry displays a capacity for serious writing. His characters, though sparsely drawn, are very real. The process by which his heroine slips from unappreciated wife and mother into unfaithful unappreciated wife and mother (at least in cyberspace) is exquisitely done. And Barry leaves the end hanging in a manner that had me squirming. It's as if a musician who for years has been doing rock riffs on his keyboard suddenly broke out in a Chopin etude. Quite the eye-opener.
So for both the sublime and the silly, I heartily recommend this book.
Random Commuter Thought In Which Only I May Be Interested
Did you know that Jeep Wrangler drivers typically wave to each other as they pass on the road? It's true. Just a friendly little lift of the hand from the steering wheel, nothing dramatic. And the really cool thing is that it is completely spontaneous. You don't get any secret instructions to do it when you buy the thing. I think this is a nifty little custom.
This got me wondering if any other similar group of drivers does the same sort of thing. (I don't count bus drivers or firemen or such who have an occupation in common.) I've never seen it, but then again it would be hard to spot if you weren't one of the drivers involved.
I thought maybe Hummer drivers might do it. But then I got thinking that the sort of guy likely to buy a Hummer is probably so insecure about his own manhood that he would be afraid any such sign given to another Hummer driver would be misinterpreted as a gay come-on.
But perhaps that's just my own bias talking.
Did you know that Jeep Wrangler drivers typically wave to each other as they pass on the road? It's true. Just a friendly little lift of the hand from the steering wheel, nothing dramatic. And the really cool thing is that it is completely spontaneous. You don't get any secret instructions to do it when you buy the thing. I think this is a nifty little custom.
This got me wondering if any other similar group of drivers does the same sort of thing. (I don't count bus drivers or firemen or such who have an occupation in common.) I've never seen it, but then again it would be hard to spot if you weren't one of the drivers involved.
I thought maybe Hummer drivers might do it. But then I got thinking that the sort of guy likely to buy a Hummer is probably so insecure about his own manhood that he would be afraid any such sign given to another Hummer driver would be misinterpreted as a gay come-on.
But perhaps that's just my own bias talking.
Llama Sighting
Late start for posting today. Working at home early this morning - just not worth it trying to kick my dinosaur of a computer into gear. Then, off to my oldest's Class Day program of song and dance. (It was also her kindergarten graduation, but since she's in a Montessori program, she and the other grads were mixed in with a group of their juniors.) The punch line is that her sister's class, which is right next door, does exactly the same program tomorrow. Oh joy!
Late start for posting today. Working at home early this morning - just not worth it trying to kick my dinosaur of a computer into gear. Then, off to my oldest's Class Day program of song and dance. (It was also her kindergarten graduation, but since she's in a Montessori program, she and the other grads were mixed in with a group of their juniors.) The punch line is that her sister's class, which is right next door, does exactly the same program tomorrow. Oh joy!
Tuesday, May 25, 2004
A Tiger? In Africa?
Over at Sheila's, they're batting around a story about some couple in Arkansas that just had their fifteenth child. Almost inevitably, someone in the comments brought up the "Every Sperm is Sacred" song from Monty Python's Meaning of Life.
That got me wondering: Am I the only manic Python fan who dislikes this movie? Here's what I wrote last year in an Amazon.com review:
I still feel this way. And frankly, I've never really understood why the "Every Sperm" song is considered to be so funny. Like most of the rest of the movie, to me it's hammerhanded, overdone and ugly.
Just sayin'.
Over at Sheila's, they're batting around a story about some couple in Arkansas that just had their fifteenth child. Almost inevitably, someone in the comments brought up the "Every Sperm is Sacred" song from Monty Python's Meaning of Life.
That got me wondering: Am I the only manic Python fan who dislikes this movie? Here's what I wrote last year in an Amazon.com review:
A word of warning to Monty Python neophytes - do NOT start with this movie! Even though it has some quite amusing bits, MOL is a bitter, ugly, savage piece in comparison to Flying Circus and the earlier movies.
Throughout most of their extraordinary career, the Pythoniotes mercilessly satirized virtually everyone and everything around them, but did so with a nudge and a wink, as if they reveled in the absurdity of life. Here, they seem sick of it all - a bunch of disappointed old men - and good-humored Brit intolerance is replaced by a dismal Scandinavian ferocity. (Imagine Strindberg trying to imitate Shaw and you'll get the idea.) And unfortunately, that ferocity translates into some extremely heavy-handed humor like the Live Organ Transplant. Compare that to King Arthur hacking up the Black Knight in Holy Grail and you'll see what I mean. Twice the gore and none of the sublime silliness.
Nonetheless, for those already well-versed in Pythonalia, there are of course some good bits (but you knew that already): The Crimson Permanent Assurance, Death and the Salmon Mousse, the Tiger in Africa. And I occasionally sing the Universe Song in the shower. On the whole, though, I'd say don't bother buying this - rent it if you get the urge. And for Pete's sake, don't watch it by yourself on a rainy afternoon!
I still feel this way. And frankly, I've never really understood why the "Every Sperm" song is considered to be so funny. Like most of the rest of the movie, to me it's hammerhanded, overdone and ugly.
Just sayin'.
Toon Tunes
Now this is pretty cool: A site dedicated to classic cartoon themes. Flipping around brought to mind some rather startling memories of my own youth. Not only does this guy include "Josie and the Pussycats," he's also got "Josie and the Pussycats in Outer Space"! (To think of all the brain cells I squandered watching that stuff.....)
He's also got special sections for Looney Toons, Scooby-Doo and the Flintstones. My mother says she knew I was musical when I started singing the theme of the Roadrunner Show when I was but a toddler. (The key is kind of tricky). A few years later, when I went to her and announced that the music used in the very first Roadrunner cartoons back in the late 40's was, in fact, a piece called the "Dance of the Comedians" from the opera The Bartered Bride by Smetena, she decided that I might be musical, but that I was also a serious geek.
HT to Rocket Jones - Good to have you back, Ted!
Now this is pretty cool: A site dedicated to classic cartoon themes. Flipping around brought to mind some rather startling memories of my own youth. Not only does this guy include "Josie and the Pussycats," he's also got "Josie and the Pussycats in Outer Space"! (To think of all the brain cells I squandered watching that stuff.....)
He's also got special sections for Looney Toons, Scooby-Doo and the Flintstones. My mother says she knew I was musical when I started singing the theme of the Roadrunner Show when I was but a toddler. (The key is kind of tricky). A few years later, when I went to her and announced that the music used in the very first Roadrunner cartoons back in the late 40's was, in fact, a piece called the "Dance of the Comedians" from the opera The Bartered Bride by Smetena, she decided that I might be musical, but that I was also a serious geek.
HT to Rocket Jones - Good to have you back, Ted!
"Geeeeeet Reeeeady! The Wuuuurld's About to Eeeend!"*
Aaaaa-hahahahahahahahahaaaaaa!!!
I can't wait to see this thing!
*Special Llama extra credit for identifying the quote - it's from one of my favorite short stories of all times.
UPDATE: Bwaa-hahahahahahahahahahaaaaa!!!!! (Not you, Pep. I hope you feel better!)
Aaaaa-hahahahahahahahahaaaaaa!!!
I can't wait to see this thing!
*Special Llama extra credit for identifying the quote - it's from one of my favorite short stories of all times.
UPDATE: Bwaa-hahahahahahahahahahaaaaa!!!!! (Not you, Pep. I hope you feel better!)
Cicada Watch
(I meant to post this bit this morning as one of those Random Commuter Thoughts That Is Probably Of Interest Only To Me, in order to spare you later on. Sorry 'bout that.)
Many commenters over the past week or two have remarked on how the hum of all those cicadas in the distance sounds like the engine of a 60's sci-fi movie space ship. (In fact, I think it sounds like the original Star Trek phasers.)
But we've got the things hanging out right next to our bedroom window now and so hear them all night close up. At that distance, they sound more like a bunch of aliens trying to sing Harry Belefonte's "Day-O!"
Just thought you'd like to know.
(I meant to post this bit this morning as one of those Random Commuter Thoughts That Is Probably Of Interest Only To Me, in order to spare you later on. Sorry 'bout that.)
Many commenters over the past week or two have remarked on how the hum of all those cicadas in the distance sounds like the engine of a 60's sci-fi movie space ship. (In fact, I think it sounds like the original Star Trek phasers.)
But we've got the things hanging out right next to our bedroom window now and so hear them all night close up. At that distance, they sound more like a bunch of aliens trying to sing Harry Belefonte's "Day-O!"
Just thought you'd like to know.
"I've Got a Baaaaaad Feeling About This!"
Maybe it's just the approaching holiday and the heat that grips the Eastern U.S. Maybe it's just mental exhaustion and nature looking for a release. I dunno. But in any event, here goes another movie meme -
This time, Michele and Emily's Stand-In are both looking for Greatest Movie Lines of all time. That's a really tough one because their name is Legion. Out of hundreds of examples that sprang to mind, here is one that I've always found exceedingly droll, culled from the eminently quotable Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure:
Okay, kids, you know what to do. And be sure to leave your answers over at the fons et origo of this meme also.
Maybe it's just the approaching holiday and the heat that grips the Eastern U.S. Maybe it's just mental exhaustion and nature looking for a release. I dunno. But in any event, here goes another movie meme -
This time, Michele and Emily's Stand-In are both looking for Greatest Movie Lines of all time. That's a really tough one because their name is Legion. Out of hundreds of examples that sprang to mind, here is one that I've always found exceedingly droll, culled from the eminently quotable Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure:
Ted - You ditched Napoleon!? Deacon, do you realize you've stranded one of history's greatest leaders?
Deacon - He was a dick!
Okay, kids, you know what to do. And be sure to leave your answers over at the fons et origo of this meme also.
Scary Red-Staters
Okay, this is the kind of geeky post only a lawyer might find amusing, but I'm going to pass it on anyway.
I am currently reading an order from the Kansas State Corporation Commission regarding minimum requirements for telecom service providers. (Docket No. 120, 408-U, dated May 14, 1986, in case you want to look it up. It's on their website here.)
Paragraph three of the order contains a line that is supposed to say "The Commission has not, in that docket, expressly required these carriers to comply with the Standards for Billing Practices."
What it actually says is "The Commission has not, in that docket, expressly required these carriers to comply with the Standards for Killing Practices."
Dangerous place, Kansas.
Okay, this is the kind of geeky post only a lawyer might find amusing, but I'm going to pass it on anyway.
I am currently reading an order from the Kansas State Corporation Commission regarding minimum requirements for telecom service providers. (Docket No. 120, 408-U, dated May 14, 1986, in case you want to look it up. It's on their website here.)
Paragraph three of the order contains a line that is supposed to say "The Commission has not, in that docket, expressly required these carriers to comply with the Standards for Billing Practices."
What it actually says is "The Commission has not, in that docket, expressly required these carriers to comply with the Standards for Killing Practices."
Dangerous place, Kansas.
Defining D.C. Deviance Down
Think you've seen it all with sleazy Inside the Beltway (heh - he said "inside the beltway") sex-blog scandals? Think that bitch Wonkette had the last word by blowing the cover (heh - he said "blowing") off of the Washingtonienne?
Well cousins, we're just getting started!
INDC Bill has the scoop on the newest D.C. Tell-All Site. Ladies and Gentlemen, it's Mister Wonkonian!
(Heh - he said "scoop".)
Think you've seen it all with sleazy Inside the Beltway (heh - he said "inside the beltway") sex-blog scandals? Think that bitch Wonkette had the last word by blowing the cover (heh - he said "blowing") off of the Washingtonienne?
Well cousins, we're just getting started!
INDC Bill has the scoop on the newest D.C. Tell-All Site. Ladies and Gentlemen, it's Mister Wonkonian!
(Heh - he said "scoop".)
Booooo-ring!
Great photo of graduating students at BC sleeping through Tim Russert's keynote speech. Although Drudge sees fit to plaster this all over his banner, I think it's more of a dog-bites-man story than anything else. If my own hazy memory serves, a lot of those kids sat through the ceremony with wicked, wicked hangovers.
Actually, I was quite fortunate in my selection of graduation speakers. In college, it was Bill Cosby, one of whose daughters was in my class. He gave a typical Cos you-kids-think-you-are-IT stand-up which was quite entertaining, especially as it offended some of the more self-important types in our class. And when he presented my diploma, he shook hands and said, "Alright, man!"
For law school, we got Tom Wolfe (a school alum). He was in excellent form, railing about the evils of excessive multiculturalism and political correctness. The student body, which was pretty conservative, ate it up. The faculty, which was much more liberal, looked on in horror.
Great photo of graduating students at BC sleeping through Tim Russert's keynote speech. Although Drudge sees fit to plaster this all over his banner, I think it's more of a dog-bites-man story than anything else. If my own hazy memory serves, a lot of those kids sat through the ceremony with wicked, wicked hangovers.
Actually, I was quite fortunate in my selection of graduation speakers. In college, it was Bill Cosby, one of whose daughters was in my class. He gave a typical Cos you-kids-think-you-are-IT stand-up which was quite entertaining, especially as it offended some of the more self-important types in our class. And when he presented my diploma, he shook hands and said, "Alright, man!"
For law school, we got Tom Wolfe (a school alum). He was in excellent form, railing about the evils of excessive multiculturalism and political correctness. The student body, which was pretty conservative, ate it up. The faculty, which was much more liberal, looked on in horror.
Llama Yips!
Say hello to Kathy of the Cake Eater Chronicles who gets the dubious honor of joining the Llama blogroll today. I had meant to do this anyway, but Kathy's crack investigative work in uncovering Blogger's stealth-dickering has reduced my morning stress level by a good 45% or so. Welcome aboard!
Go check out Kathy's site for lots of good stuff. In particular today, tho, read the piece I linked to. Please be a good websphere citizen and spread word of this matter to everyone you know. Since Blogger doesn't seem interested in telling us what it's up to, we'll just have to become self-informed, as they say.
(Man, I'm really looking forward to getting over to the new digs!)
Say hello to Kathy of the Cake Eater Chronicles who gets the dubious honor of joining the Llama blogroll today. I had meant to do this anyway, but Kathy's crack investigative work in uncovering Blogger's stealth-dickering has reduced my morning stress level by a good 45% or so. Welcome aboard!
Go check out Kathy's site for lots of good stuff. In particular today, tho, read the piece I linked to. Please be a good websphere citizen and spread word of this matter to everyone you know. Since Blogger doesn't seem interested in telling us what it's up to, we'll just have to become self-informed, as they say.
(Man, I'm really looking forward to getting over to the new digs!)
Moonbat Desperation?
I did not happen to see Bush's speech last night - the household schedule would not allow it. Reaction this morning seems to be generally favorable. Personally, I think this is the sort of thing Bush needs to do not just once, but over and over and over again in order to win the war of ideas here at home.
One amusing tidbit: The two moonbat partners who forgather in the office next to mine to chew on politics most morning are discussing Bush's speech even as I type. So far, the worst thing they seem to be able to say is that Bush consistently mispronounced "Abu Ghraib." Overall, I don't sense the usual eyeball-rolling, tongue-flapping furor from these guys.
I did not happen to see Bush's speech last night - the household schedule would not allow it. Reaction this morning seems to be generally favorable. Personally, I think this is the sort of thing Bush needs to do not just once, but over and over and over again in order to win the war of ideas here at home.
One amusing tidbit: The two moonbat partners who forgather in the office next to mine to chew on politics most morning are discussing Bush's speech even as I type. So far, the worst thing they seem to be able to say is that Bush consistently mispronounced "Abu Ghraib." Overall, I don't sense the usual eyeball-rolling, tongue-flapping furor from these guys.
Damn You, Blogger!
Congrats if you're reading this. Blogger seems to have gone on the fritz some time late yesterday afternoon. I can't open any Blogger address now, although I can get a view of our page by way of the edits page. The odd thing is that, judging from comments to posts, at least a couple people got in last evening. Go figure.
Well, I'll keep posting even if I can't see what I'm doing. Hopefully the problem will clear up shortly.
UPDATE: Could you leave a note in the Mail Sack letting me know you're seeing this? Also, let me know if you were able to dial directly into the site or whether you got here from somewhere else. On further investigation, I can get at Blogger sites via Google, but I still can't access them directly.
Thankee.
UPDATE: Kathy at the
Cake Eater Chronicles has solved the mystery: Apparently Blogger has rerouted all the connections without bothering to tell anybody, in effect dropping the "www" from our web addresses. So, for instance, dialing llamabutchers.blogspot.com will get you here no problem. If nothing else, this means we're all going to have to update our blogrolls n' stuff.
Please spread the word about this and thankee again. Yip! Yip!
Congrats if you're reading this. Blogger seems to have gone on the fritz some time late yesterday afternoon. I can't open any Blogger address now, although I can get a view of our page by way of the edits page. The odd thing is that, judging from comments to posts, at least a couple people got in last evening. Go figure.
Well, I'll keep posting even if I can't see what I'm doing. Hopefully the problem will clear up shortly.
UPDATE: Could you leave a note in the Mail Sack letting me know you're seeing this? Also, let me know if you were able to dial directly into the site or whether you got here from somewhere else. On further investigation, I can get at Blogger sites via Google, but I still can't access them directly.
Thankee.
UPDATE: Kathy at the
Cake Eater Chronicles has solved the mystery: Apparently Blogger has rerouted all the connections without bothering to tell anybody, in effect dropping the "www" from our web addresses. So, for instance, dialing llamabutchers.blogspot.com will get you here no problem. If nothing else, this means we're all going to have to update our blogrolls n' stuff.
Please spread the word about this and thankee again. Yip! Yip!
The Llamas - Doing Our Best To Sour Franco-American Relations
Steve-O checks in from Gay Paree with this humorous report:
1. CNN Europe is about 10 times worse than our home-grown variety in promoting anti-Americanism.
2. Reaction in the press to Bush's speech differed: The Brits on CNBC Europe reported it, talking about bad things but also good. The Beeb did the whole "not enough/not sufficient" analysis, which was interesting as they ran it about an hour before the actual speech. French and German teevee seemed to have similar tones gauged by the clips they were running. However, for the past 3 days they've been using the same clip of a car on fire and the same 4 mutts firing AKs at a
humvee. Call it the Pravda approach. I think things must be going well -casualties seem to have really drop off in May, given that the press isn't using that story.
3. Last night I walked around all evening wearing my Cubs hat - the stare to smile ratio was about 1:5. A waiter joked about the terminal collapse at the airport being caused by Michael Moore. Regular folks don't have a real problem with us. Rather, it's the elites that do. One lady we were at a party with was downright rude about it in a funny way. (I was yanking her chain. She knew it but didn't seem to mind.) She was going on about Blair being Bush's dog and I said "You mean like a bulldog? They're pretty fierce." She said that Paris would never build a statue for Bush except outside of a hospital for the mentally deficient, to which I replied that I had heard that Bush had named his new dog "Chirac" and promptly had him fixed. (I of course used the snip snip gesture.) That really got her. I finished with "Boy, the French really seem to hate our president. And you know, if Americans knew who M. Chirac was and what he stood for, they wouldn't like him either. But they don't because, well, how important is the president of France really....?" She laughed and laughed. (Turns out the animus is more deep-seated: her two sons both have emigrated to the States to find work and start businesses. As Glenn would say, heh. Indeed.)
Steve-O checks in from Gay Paree with this humorous report:
1. CNN Europe is about 10 times worse than our home-grown variety in promoting anti-Americanism.
2. Reaction in the press to Bush's speech differed: The Brits on CNBC Europe reported it, talking about bad things but also good. The Beeb did the whole "not enough/not sufficient" analysis, which was interesting as they ran it about an hour before the actual speech. French and German teevee seemed to have similar tones gauged by the clips they were running. However, for the past 3 days they've been using the same clip of a car on fire and the same 4 mutts firing AKs at a
humvee. Call it the Pravda approach. I think things must be going well -casualties seem to have really drop off in May, given that the press isn't using that story.
3. Last night I walked around all evening wearing my Cubs hat - the stare to smile ratio was about 1:5. A waiter joked about the terminal collapse at the airport being caused by Michael Moore. Regular folks don't have a real problem with us. Rather, it's the elites that do. One lady we were at a party with was downright rude about it in a funny way. (I was yanking her chain. She knew it but didn't seem to mind.) She was going on about Blair being Bush's dog and I said "You mean like a bulldog? They're pretty fierce." She said that Paris would never build a statue for Bush except outside of a hospital for the mentally deficient, to which I replied that I had heard that Bush had named his new dog "Chirac" and promptly had him fixed. (I of course used the snip snip gesture.) That really got her. I finished with "Boy, the French really seem to hate our president. And you know, if Americans knew who M. Chirac was and what he stood for, they wouldn't like him either. But they don't because, well, how important is the president of France really....?" She laughed and laughed. (Turns out the animus is more deep-seated: her two sons both have emigrated to the States to find work and start businesses. As Glenn would say, heh. Indeed.)
Monday, May 24, 2004
More Musical Thoughts
Speaking of nothing in particular, I was again listening to Schubert's 9th Symphony last night. It is known as "The Great." I often think this means the piece is like the Great Wall of China as in, "Jesus, this thing goes on for a long time!" Even at a smart clip, the piece comes in just short of an hour - the introductory section of the first movement alone lasts practically as long as the entire first movement of many other symphonies I've heard.
As I once mentioned to my very musical father, I often think of Schubert's symphonies as suits made of excellent cloth but poorly tailored - the fabric is quite pleasant but does not sit properly on the frame he tries to employ. Not only are his musical "thoughts" very long to begin with, Schubert has a bad habit of repeating when he seemingly can't think of anything else to do. This combination is what makes our suit sag at the knees, flow over the shoes, billow at the waist and swallow the wrists and hands whole. (Compare with Beethoven, who could say so much more with so many fewer notes and in less time.)
Nonetheless, I like this piece for all of its flaws. And after all, an hour's worth of music is the perfect time to smoke a cigar without any hurry.
The other thing I like is my recording - it's a digitally remastered DECCA production of a performance by George Solti and the Vienna Philharmonic. Between the sterling quality of the sound reproduction and Solti's effortless control, this is one of the best recordings of anything I've ever heard. One frequently grips one's chair in dubious anticipation of how a conductor is going to handle a given work. Here, from the very first bars, you know Solti is not going to let you down. There's even a photo of him on the inside of the cover. He's conducting in rehearsals and is flashing a look and a grin at some member of the orchestra that simply says, "Yes. That is what it is supposed to sound like. Well done."
Definitely worth adding to your collection.
Speaking of nothing in particular, I was again listening to Schubert's 9th Symphony last night. It is known as "The Great." I often think this means the piece is like the Great Wall of China as in, "Jesus, this thing goes on for a long time!" Even at a smart clip, the piece comes in just short of an hour - the introductory section of the first movement alone lasts practically as long as the entire first movement of many other symphonies I've heard.
As I once mentioned to my very musical father, I often think of Schubert's symphonies as suits made of excellent cloth but poorly tailored - the fabric is quite pleasant but does not sit properly on the frame he tries to employ. Not only are his musical "thoughts" very long to begin with, Schubert has a bad habit of repeating when he seemingly can't think of anything else to do. This combination is what makes our suit sag at the knees, flow over the shoes, billow at the waist and swallow the wrists and hands whole. (Compare with Beethoven, who could say so much more with so many fewer notes and in less time.)
Nonetheless, I like this piece for all of its flaws. And after all, an hour's worth of music is the perfect time to smoke a cigar without any hurry.
The other thing I like is my recording - it's a digitally remastered DECCA production of a performance by George Solti and the Vienna Philharmonic. Between the sterling quality of the sound reproduction and Solti's effortless control, this is one of the best recordings of anything I've ever heard. One frequently grips one's chair in dubious anticipation of how a conductor is going to handle a given work. Here, from the very first bars, you know Solti is not going to let you down. There's even a photo of him on the inside of the cover. He's conducting in rehearsals and is flashing a look and a grin at some member of the orchestra that simply says, "Yes. That is what it is supposed to sound like. Well done."
Definitely worth adding to your collection.
Speaking of Movies
We rented Persuasion over the weekend. I hadn't seen it before and I haven't read the book either, so I can't jump on my favorite screenplay accuracy hobby-horse. In general, tho, the film has the feel of the old Masterpiece Theatre productions from way back when during the Alistair Cook hey-day - less of a star vehicle and more interested in getting the story right.
Of course, I'll now have to read the book and see.
However, I spotted two howlers in the movie - First, in the scene in which the ladies were pouring over the Navy Lists looking up Wentworth's past commands, they mention a 74 he had commanded, calling it a "Frigate of the Second Rate." In fact, there's no such thing - a frigate was a single-deck ship. A Second Rate 74 (denoting the number of guns she carried) was a multi-decked Ship of the Line.
Also, right at the end ,when Anne and Wentworth are aboard his new command, there is a brief clip of a ship sailing off into the sunset. The ship looks like a three masted, single decked craft, perhaps another frigate. But someone of Wentworth's status would definitely have a larger ship to command. (In the credits, I noticed that the clip was borrowed from "The Bounty." I guess, in a slip, the producers figured what the hell - a sailing ship is a sailing ship.)
One thing I do know and that's that Jane Austen knew what she was talking about in terms of the societal trials and tribulations of naval officers. (The hero of Persuasion Captain Wentworth, is home from the sea during the false peace of the Hundred Days.) In fact, three of Austen's brothers were naval Post-Captains, two of them rising to the rank of Admiral. In fact one, I forget which, became Admiral of the Fleet. I also believe one of them was in Nelson's fleet, but unfortunately was sent away to replenish stores just before Trafalgar.
We rented Persuasion over the weekend. I hadn't seen it before and I haven't read the book either, so I can't jump on my favorite screenplay accuracy hobby-horse. In general, tho, the film has the feel of the old Masterpiece Theatre productions from way back when during the Alistair Cook hey-day - less of a star vehicle and more interested in getting the story right.
Of course, I'll now have to read the book and see.
However, I spotted two howlers in the movie - First, in the scene in which the ladies were pouring over the Navy Lists looking up Wentworth's past commands, they mention a 74 he had commanded, calling it a "Frigate of the Second Rate." In fact, there's no such thing - a frigate was a single-deck ship. A Second Rate 74 (denoting the number of guns she carried) was a multi-decked Ship of the Line.
Also, right at the end ,when Anne and Wentworth are aboard his new command, there is a brief clip of a ship sailing off into the sunset. The ship looks like a three masted, single decked craft, perhaps another frigate. But someone of Wentworth's status would definitely have a larger ship to command. (In the credits, I noticed that the clip was borrowed from "The Bounty." I guess, in a slip, the producers figured what the hell - a sailing ship is a sailing ship.)
One thing I do know and that's that Jane Austen knew what she was talking about in terms of the societal trials and tribulations of naval officers. (The hero of Persuasion Captain Wentworth, is home from the sea during the false peace of the Hundred Days.) In fact, three of Austen's brothers were naval Post-Captains, two of them rising to the rank of Admiral. In fact one, I forget which, became Admiral of the Fleet. I also believe one of them was in Nelson's fleet, but unfortunately was sent away to replenish stores just before Trafalgar.
Productivity Enhancement Watch
Sheila is tossing out random movie quotes and looking for you to identify the film they came from. The answers come in pretty fast, but there are some good observations and a bit o' discussion arising out of them as well. Go on over.
Sheila is tossing out random movie quotes and looking for you to identify the film they came from. The answers come in pretty fast, but there are some good observations and a bit o' discussion arising out of them as well. Go on over.
Gratuitous Domestic Blogging - Update
For those of you keeping up with the minor saga known as the Butcher's life, you may remember that I was trying to figure out yesterday how I would manage to keep my four-year-old, who had hurt her arm falling off the monkey bars on Friday, from doing so again if allowed to indulge in her addiction to moon-bounces at the Fun Fair at school yesterday. Alternatively, I was trying to figure out how to keep her from howling with rage and despair if banned from said moon-bounce all afternoon.
Well, it turns out I got the worst of both worlds. Five minutes after we got to school, she broke ranks and made a bee-line for the bounce. Two minutes later, she came staggering back towards me, clutching her arm and howling. So I wound up spending a great chunk of the rest of the afternoon (when not trying to break clowns of their hyper-cheerfulness - see below), following the girl around and trying to get her to hold an ice-pack on her elbow, at the same time keeping a feverish eye on the two-year-old in order to keep her from hurling herself into the barbecue, onto the balloon-making clown or off of the school roof, any one of which things she is perfectly capable of doing. Fortunately, my six-year-old went straight to the giant slide (a cousin of the moon-bounce) and spent the entire afternoon throwing herself up and down it.
For those of you keeping up with the minor saga known as the Butcher's life, you may remember that I was trying to figure out yesterday how I would manage to keep my four-year-old, who had hurt her arm falling off the monkey bars on Friday, from doing so again if allowed to indulge in her addiction to moon-bounces at the Fun Fair at school yesterday. Alternatively, I was trying to figure out how to keep her from howling with rage and despair if banned from said moon-bounce all afternoon.
Well, it turns out I got the worst of both worlds. Five minutes after we got to school, she broke ranks and made a bee-line for the bounce. Two minutes later, she came staggering back towards me, clutching her arm and howling. So I wound up spending a great chunk of the rest of the afternoon (when not trying to break clowns of their hyper-cheerfulness - see below), following the girl around and trying to get her to hold an ice-pack on her elbow, at the same time keeping a feverish eye on the two-year-old in order to keep her from hurling herself into the barbecue, onto the balloon-making clown or off of the school roof, any one of which things she is perfectly capable of doing. Fortunately, my six-year-old went straight to the giant slide (a cousin of the moon-bounce) and spent the entire afternoon throwing herself up and down it.
Clowns
This weekend I had another up close and personal encounter with a bizarre phenomenon of parental life: the for-hire clown.
In fact, I met two of them. One was at our church Sunday morning to help promote the summer education program sign-up drive. The other was at the girls' school's annual Fun Fair later on yesterday afternoon.
These two must have been members of the same Clown Union (Local Wacka-Wacka-Wacka, or something like that), or perhaps they hit the same bins at Clowns-R-Us. Both were middle-aged women completely decked out in thick make-up, fright wigs, wacky clothing and humorous little inspirational buttons. Both spent the bulk of their time making balloon sculptures for the young'uns. (I had no idea that compressed air technology had reached the point where your standard clown could carry around a little pump no bigger than a modest notebook.)
Both of them drove me nearly insane.
Yesterday was probably the hottest day so far this year around D.C., with the temps well up into the 90's and humidity you could scoop with a spoon. Here these people were, right out in the open, smeared with grease paint, decked in stifling polyester outfits, waist-deep in seas of over-excited kiddies - and so goddam cheerful that I wanted to bean them with one of their "doggies-on-a-leash" tied around a large brick.
Now don't misunderstand me - I don't have anything against clowns or kiddy fun. But I was coming to pieces myself even while wearing only a polo shirt and bermuda shorts and guzzling bottles of water. All I wanted was an admission (out of ear-shot of the kiddies, of course) that it was a tough day be working the clown gig.
That's all, a simple admission. Even just a knowing wink would be fine.
"Oh," one of them said, "when yer heart is full of happiness, it's like A/C for your soul!"
Oh, c'mon, it's roasting out here.
"Oh, no," said the other one, "I'm just listening to the music and letting a big ol' smile shade me!"
Arrrgh! No! You're hot! You're ready to melt into a little pool of grease with a red round nose bobbing in the middle of it! Confess, damn you! Confess, I say!
They wouldn't budge, either one of them. Even with my two-year-old literally trying to climb their legs.
This isn't the first time this has happened. I tried to get a rise out of a similar clown a week or two ago at a local park, again making balloons and radiating cheer under sweltering conditions. No luck. These clowns must be made of stronger stuff than I imagined. (Too bad I didn't have the Comfy Chair with me.)
But there's a coda to all this: At a party last evening, I learned that one of the clown ladies in fact conducts anger management seminars in real life, which means I was up against a ringer. But I got thinking - the people who run this sort of seminar often do so for their own therapeutic reasons, which means it is quite likely that beneath that silly clown exterior their lurks a ticking time-bomb of clown rage. Sooner or later, she will snap. When she does, I'm just going to smile.
UPDATE: Big Llama Yips go to Bill for being amused. I'm not a psycho. I'm really not. I just can't take too much unadulterated cheerfulness.
This weekend I had another up close and personal encounter with a bizarre phenomenon of parental life: the for-hire clown.
In fact, I met two of them. One was at our church Sunday morning to help promote the summer education program sign-up drive. The other was at the girls' school's annual Fun Fair later on yesterday afternoon.
These two must have been members of the same Clown Union (Local Wacka-Wacka-Wacka, or something like that), or perhaps they hit the same bins at Clowns-R-Us. Both were middle-aged women completely decked out in thick make-up, fright wigs, wacky clothing and humorous little inspirational buttons. Both spent the bulk of their time making balloon sculptures for the young'uns. (I had no idea that compressed air technology had reached the point where your standard clown could carry around a little pump no bigger than a modest notebook.)
Both of them drove me nearly insane.
Yesterday was probably the hottest day so far this year around D.C., with the temps well up into the 90's and humidity you could scoop with a spoon. Here these people were, right out in the open, smeared with grease paint, decked in stifling polyester outfits, waist-deep in seas of over-excited kiddies - and so goddam cheerful that I wanted to bean them with one of their "doggies-on-a-leash" tied around a large brick.
Now don't misunderstand me - I don't have anything against clowns or kiddy fun. But I was coming to pieces myself even while wearing only a polo shirt and bermuda shorts and guzzling bottles of water. All I wanted was an admission (out of ear-shot of the kiddies, of course) that it was a tough day be working the clown gig.
That's all, a simple admission. Even just a knowing wink would be fine.
"Oh," one of them said, "when yer heart is full of happiness, it's like A/C for your soul!"
Oh, c'mon, it's roasting out here.
"Oh, no," said the other one, "I'm just listening to the music and letting a big ol' smile shade me!"
Arrrgh! No! You're hot! You're ready to melt into a little pool of grease with a red round nose bobbing in the middle of it! Confess, damn you! Confess, I say!
They wouldn't budge, either one of them. Even with my two-year-old literally trying to climb their legs.
This isn't the first time this has happened. I tried to get a rise out of a similar clown a week or two ago at a local park, again making balloons and radiating cheer under sweltering conditions. No luck. These clowns must be made of stronger stuff than I imagined. (Too bad I didn't have the Comfy Chair with me.)
But there's a coda to all this: At a party last evening, I learned that one of the clown ladies in fact conducts anger management seminars in real life, which means I was up against a ringer. But I got thinking - the people who run this sort of seminar often do so for their own therapeutic reasons, which means it is quite likely that beneath that silly clown exterior their lurks a ticking time-bomb of clown rage. Sooner or later, she will snap. When she does, I'm just going to smile.
UPDATE: Big Llama Yips go to Bill for being amused. I'm not a psycho. I'm really not. I just can't take too much unadulterated cheerfulness.
Monday Morning Check-In
Sorry we Llamas won't be posting much till later. Too much time and too little to do. Whoops. Strike that. Reverse it.
Too bad, too, because it was rather an interesting weekend. I'll just have to put my thoughts together later on. Further, since our traffic seems to have taken a rather alarming dive in the past couple days, I'm sure there are lots of folks out there who have not yet read about such diverse pleasures as Dowdtopia, Phew Diddy and the complex psychological drama that is cicada slaughter.
In the meantime, I would just like to point out that we've been linked by some strange folks from time to time, but I think this is our first real estate listing. At what point does a Llama become a real property fixture?
Yip at you later.
Sorry we Llamas won't be posting much till later. Too much time and too little to do. Whoops. Strike that. Reverse it.
Too bad, too, because it was rather an interesting weekend. I'll just have to put my thoughts together later on. Further, since our traffic seems to have taken a rather alarming dive in the past couple days, I'm sure there are lots of folks out there who have not yet read about such diverse pleasures as Dowdtopia, Phew Diddy and the complex psychological drama that is cicada slaughter.
In the meantime, I would just like to point out that we've been linked by some strange folks from time to time, but I think this is our first real estate listing. At what point does a Llama become a real property fixture?
Yip at you later.
Saturday, May 22, 2004
Death Goes To The Movies
Bill McCabe has asked another one of those irresistible questions: which are the best Movie Deaths?
Well, I dunno which might be the best, but one of my favorites has always been the two Illinois Nazis in the car from The Blues Brothers. That overhead shot of the car falling away from the camera makes me queasy every time I see it. Couple that with the Wagnerian score, the confession of love of the fat guy and the look of blank despair on the little guy's face, and you have so many elements thrown together in one 20 second bit that you can't lose.
Bill McCabe has asked another one of those irresistible questions: which are the best Movie Deaths?
Well, I dunno which might be the best, but one of my favorites has always been the two Illinois Nazis in the car from The Blues Brothers. That overhead shot of the car falling away from the camera makes me queasy every time I see it. Couple that with the Wagnerian score, the confession of love of the fat guy and the look of blank despair on the little guy's face, and you have so many elements thrown together in one 20 second bit that you can't lose.
Phew Diddy
I see from the paper that Estee Lauder is going to market a new line of "fragrance" created by the Artist-Formerly-Known-As-Puff-Daddy, Sean "P. Diddy" Combs.
My first reaction was who the hell would want to wear something that smells like Colt .45, crack and sweat? I thought that's what these guys put on cologne to cover up.
I see from the paper that Estee Lauder is going to market a new line of "fragrance" created by the Artist-Formerly-Known-As-Puff-Daddy, Sean "P. Diddy" Combs.
My first reaction was who the hell would want to wear something that smells like Colt .45, crack and sweat? I thought that's what these guys put on cologne to cover up.
Ambrosia Watch
I must say that although there are times when I'd gladly clothesline a little old lady to get a glass of wine, the fact of the matter is that nothing comes closer to the nectar of the Gods than a big glass of iced coffee. Fill glass with ice. Pour in generous portion of coffee left over from morning pot. Add dash of milk. Share and enjoy.
Mmmmmmmm.....iced coffee.
I must say that although there are times when I'd gladly clothesline a little old lady to get a glass of wine, the fact of the matter is that nothing comes closer to the nectar of the Gods than a big glass of iced coffee. Fill glass with ice. Pour in generous portion of coffee left over from morning pot. Add dash of milk. Share and enjoy.
Mmmmmmmm.....iced coffee.
Gratuitous Domestic Blogging (TM)
I'm sitting here trying to get up the energy and nerve to face having to mow the yard. We had a big thunderstorm come through last night, but rather than clearing things out and cooling them down, it seems to have increased the heat and humidity. I expect we'll get plastered again this evening.
In the meantime, I don't know if it is at all related to the weather, but the cicadas have gone into high gear - the noise is distinctly louder this morning and many more of them are on the wing. Also, rather than flying around in a lazy, desultory pattern, they seem to be moving more purposefully. The ground is getting covered with them - I confidently expect to slaughter hundreds with the mower in a bit.
Heh. I'm sure this would upset the Hug-A-Cicada crowd, several of whose letters appeared in this morning's WaPo, mostly inveighing against little boys who have been reported as having great fun throwing cicadas under car wheels, ripping their legs off, frying them with magnefying glasses - in short, being little boys. As I mentioned earlier, I don't give a single solitary damn about these digusting creatures (The cicadas, I mean, not the little boys). In fact, the residual little boy in me is already contemplating the havoc I am going to create amongst them with something approaching ghoulish pleasure.
Speaking of creating havoc, tomorrow (which promises to be as hot and nasty as today) is the annual Fun Fair at the girls' school. Somehow or other (I don't remember signing anything or even raising my hand), I have been drafted into putting in a spell running the Moon-Bounce. This is a tougher assignment than you might imagine - all those bodies hurling around in uncontrolled arcs of knees, elbows and skulls are a recipe for disaster. There are always a couple of bigger kids who start acting like linebackers in a ballet recital, bowling through the younger ones and inevitably making their moonbounce experience nasty, brutish and short. To combat this, I am stealing myself to be the Moon-Bounce Nazi. One slip up - no bounce for you!
The worst part is going to be dealing with my own four year old. She fell off the top of the monkeybars at school yesterday and landed flat on her back. In addition to knocking the wind out of herself, she also wrenched her arm. The doctors think there may be a slight hairline fracture. In any event, it is sore and swollen this morning. This has already led to numerous Vaudeville encounters between us along the following lines:
She: Daddy, it hurts when I do this!
Me: Then don't do that.
(Ba-DUP-Da!)
Alas, my sage words of wisdom do not seem to be sinking in. Furthermore, the girl is passionate about Moon-Bounces. How I am going to manage to keep her from breaking her arm completely, but at the same time avoiding the furious meltdown that would result from banning her altogether, I have not yet figured out. Hopefully, inspiration will come to me. Or maybe it will rain.
Speaking of inspiration, or rather lack thereof, I saw a piece in the paper this morning that has altered one of my long-standing opinions in a way that is going to make Liz and Pep very happy. You may remember earlier this week that Gwynyth Paltrow generated sniggers around the blogsphere by naming her new baby girl "Apple." Well, now comes the (former) thinking man's babe Helen Hunt to top her. Hunt has named her new daughter "Makena lei Gordon Carnahan." Sorry, Helen, you're out of the pool. I can fantasize about a woman I don't respect, but I can't fantasize about a woman hell-bent on making a pretentious fool of herself. (BTW, the paper delicately describes the father, Matthew Carnahan, as Hunt's "partner." I'm not sure what that means. Sounds like they're playing Bridge together. Of course, in Hollywood, rounds of Bridge often last longer than marriages, so who knows.)
One long-standing opinion I hold that has not changed, but instead is increasingly cemented, is that AOL is screwing with me. A couple of months ago, we started getting pop-up ads when we logged on encouraging us to change over to AOL's new broadband service. At the same time, I noticed the quality of our dinosaur-like dial-up 6.0, never very good to begin with, starting to drop. (The Butcher's Wife noticed this too.) This seems to be getting worse. For example, I can only open up comments you guys send about 30% of the time. Also, the thing has a trick: once it has decided it can't reach one Internet address, it won't reach any Internet address. All you can do is reboot. And pray. We think this is a deliberate design flaw that AOL is using to try and hustle us over to their broadband service. Bastards.
Well, I've put off the inevitable long enough. Time to go mow the damn lawn. Yip at you later.
UPDATE: The ghoulish pleasure of running over cicadas with the lawnmower didn't last very long. This isn't because I had an epiphany that we're all fellow travellers on this fragile spaceship we call Planet Earth. It's just because it got really disgusting really fast.
I'm sitting here trying to get up the energy and nerve to face having to mow the yard. We had a big thunderstorm come through last night, but rather than clearing things out and cooling them down, it seems to have increased the heat and humidity. I expect we'll get plastered again this evening.
In the meantime, I don't know if it is at all related to the weather, but the cicadas have gone into high gear - the noise is distinctly louder this morning and many more of them are on the wing. Also, rather than flying around in a lazy, desultory pattern, they seem to be moving more purposefully. The ground is getting covered with them - I confidently expect to slaughter hundreds with the mower in a bit.
Heh. I'm sure this would upset the Hug-A-Cicada crowd, several of whose letters appeared in this morning's WaPo, mostly inveighing against little boys who have been reported as having great fun throwing cicadas under car wheels, ripping their legs off, frying them with magnefying glasses - in short, being little boys. As I mentioned earlier, I don't give a single solitary damn about these digusting creatures (The cicadas, I mean, not the little boys). In fact, the residual little boy in me is already contemplating the havoc I am going to create amongst them with something approaching ghoulish pleasure.
Speaking of creating havoc, tomorrow (which promises to be as hot and nasty as today) is the annual Fun Fair at the girls' school. Somehow or other (I don't remember signing anything or even raising my hand), I have been drafted into putting in a spell running the Moon-Bounce. This is a tougher assignment than you might imagine - all those bodies hurling around in uncontrolled arcs of knees, elbows and skulls are a recipe for disaster. There are always a couple of bigger kids who start acting like linebackers in a ballet recital, bowling through the younger ones and inevitably making their moonbounce experience nasty, brutish and short. To combat this, I am stealing myself to be the Moon-Bounce Nazi. One slip up - no bounce for you!
The worst part is going to be dealing with my own four year old. She fell off the top of the monkeybars at school yesterday and landed flat on her back. In addition to knocking the wind out of herself, she also wrenched her arm. The doctors think there may be a slight hairline fracture. In any event, it is sore and swollen this morning. This has already led to numerous Vaudeville encounters between us along the following lines:
She: Daddy, it hurts when I do this!
Me: Then don't do that.
(Ba-DUP-Da!)
Alas, my sage words of wisdom do not seem to be sinking in. Furthermore, the girl is passionate about Moon-Bounces. How I am going to manage to keep her from breaking her arm completely, but at the same time avoiding the furious meltdown that would result from banning her altogether, I have not yet figured out. Hopefully, inspiration will come to me. Or maybe it will rain.
Speaking of inspiration, or rather lack thereof, I saw a piece in the paper this morning that has altered one of my long-standing opinions in a way that is going to make Liz and Pep very happy. You may remember earlier this week that Gwynyth Paltrow generated sniggers around the blogsphere by naming her new baby girl "Apple." Well, now comes the (former) thinking man's babe Helen Hunt to top her. Hunt has named her new daughter "Makena lei Gordon Carnahan." Sorry, Helen, you're out of the pool. I can fantasize about a woman I don't respect, but I can't fantasize about a woman hell-bent on making a pretentious fool of herself. (BTW, the paper delicately describes the father, Matthew Carnahan, as Hunt's "partner." I'm not sure what that means. Sounds like they're playing Bridge together. Of course, in Hollywood, rounds of Bridge often last longer than marriages, so who knows.)
One long-standing opinion I hold that has not changed, but instead is increasingly cemented, is that AOL is screwing with me. A couple of months ago, we started getting pop-up ads when we logged on encouraging us to change over to AOL's new broadband service. At the same time, I noticed the quality of our dinosaur-like dial-up 6.0, never very good to begin with, starting to drop. (The Butcher's Wife noticed this too.) This seems to be getting worse. For example, I can only open up comments you guys send about 30% of the time. Also, the thing has a trick: once it has decided it can't reach one Internet address, it won't reach any Internet address. All you can do is reboot. And pray. We think this is a deliberate design flaw that AOL is using to try and hustle us over to their broadband service. Bastards.
Well, I've put off the inevitable long enough. Time to go mow the damn lawn. Yip at you later.
UPDATE: The ghoulish pleasure of running over cicadas with the lawnmower didn't last very long. This isn't because I had an epiphany that we're all fellow travellers on this fragile spaceship we call Planet Earth. It's just because it got really disgusting really fast.
Friday, May 21, 2004
Llama Yips!
On this sultry Friday afternoon, we'd like to extend a big Llama welcome to the inmates of the House of Payne as we add them to our blogroll. Also to say thanks for their having done so for us. Go on over and say hello.
Yip! Yip! Yip!
On this sultry Friday afternoon, we'd like to extend a big Llama welcome to the inmates of the House of Payne as we add them to our blogroll. Also to say thanks for their having done so for us. Go on over and say hello.
Yip! Yip! Yip!
Musical Meme Post
What rotten timing! Here it is, our six-month marker, I go out of my way over lunch to do the longest post I've ever written and traffic is practically non-existent this afternoon. Where the hell is everybody? Steve-O is going to kill me when he gets back and finds I've driven our audience away.
Well anyway, in the deafening silence I got thinking about something. If you're like me, you almost constantly have some piece of music or other running through your head. You also find that the funniest associations of thought can set off a given tune. (You further find that it's the song you like least that you have the hardest time getting rid of, but let's not go there.)
So, without looking at my answer, think fast - what music is going through your head right now?
Now for me: For some reason, I have had the first movement of Beethoven's 7th Symphony stuck on my brain all afternoon. I have no idea why, but there it is. I remember my first recording of it - an old, old record of Toscanini and the NBC Orchestra. It wasn't even in stereo, as I recall. I have two recordings now - Solti and the Chicago and John Eliot Gardiner and the Orchestra of the Age of Romance and Revolution (or whatever it is that the English Baroque Soloists call themselves when they're doing Romantic music).
I don't really have much to say about the piece, except that I like it - a very well crafted work. The final movement is rather tricky - if performed too slow, it sounds dirge-like, but if performed too fast, it can get frantic. The third movement is about as rollicking as Beethoven ever gets. The second movement is a Haydnesque theme and variation set with some nifty passages. The first movement, which I'm still hearing, is rather unusual in being in triple time and always reminds me of cantering a horse cross country.
So there you have it.
What rotten timing! Here it is, our six-month marker, I go out of my way over lunch to do the longest post I've ever written and traffic is practically non-existent this afternoon. Where the hell is everybody? Steve-O is going to kill me when he gets back and finds I've driven our audience away.
Well anyway, in the deafening silence I got thinking about something. If you're like me, you almost constantly have some piece of music or other running through your head. You also find that the funniest associations of thought can set off a given tune. (You further find that it's the song you like least that you have the hardest time getting rid of, but let's not go there.)
So, without looking at my answer, think fast - what music is going through your head right now?
Now for me: For some reason, I have had the first movement of Beethoven's 7th Symphony stuck on my brain all afternoon. I have no idea why, but there it is. I remember my first recording of it - an old, old record of Toscanini and the NBC Orchestra. It wasn't even in stereo, as I recall. I have two recordings now - Solti and the Chicago and John Eliot Gardiner and the Orchestra of the Age of Romance and Revolution (or whatever it is that the English Baroque Soloists call themselves when they're doing Romantic music).
I don't really have much to say about the piece, except that I like it - a very well crafted work. The final movement is rather tricky - if performed too slow, it sounds dirge-like, but if performed too fast, it can get frantic. The third movement is about as rollicking as Beethoven ever gets. The second movement is a Haydnesque theme and variation set with some nifty passages. The first movement, which I'm still hearing, is rather unusual in being in triple time and always reminds me of cantering a horse cross country.
So there you have it.
CF-Watch
Mor-ton Kondrake has words of warning for the Copperhead Fedayeen: knock it off or we all pay.
Thanks to Glenn.
Mor-ton Kondrake has words of warning for the Copperhead Fedayeen: knock it off or we all pay.
Thanks to Glenn.
Welcome to Dowdtopia
Queen of the Copperhead Fedayeen Maureen Dowd recently published an insane op-ed entitled Welcome to Bushworld. Let's take a look at her travelguide, shall we?
WASHINGTON -- It's their reality. We just live and die in it.
In Bushworld, our troops go to war and get killed, but you never see the bodies coming home.
The Pentagon established that policy in 1991. How many photos of the remains of our dead coming back from Mogadishu, the Khobi Towers and the U.S.S. Cole did you see? Oh, but Clinton was just feeling the families' pain, I'm sure.
In Bushworld, flag-draped remains of the fallen are important to revere and show the nation, but only in political ads hawking the president's leadership against terror.
Are those the same bodies we never see?
In Bushworld, we can create an exciting Iraqi democracy as long as it doesn't control its own military, pass any laws or have any power.
You mean all that talk in the Interim Constitution about a National Assembly (Chapter 4), Executive Authority (Chapter 5) and Judiciary (Chapter 6), together with the timetable for drafting a permanent Constitution (Chapter 9) was just thrown in because the drafters were getting paid by the word?
In Bushworld, we can win over Fallujah by bulldozing it.
Yeah, you know we're leaving just one big parking lot. Oh, and it's being run by that military the Iraqis don't control.
In Bushworld, it was worth going to war so Iraqis could express their feelings ("Down With America!") without having their tongues cut out, although we cannot yet allow them to express intemperate feelings in newspapers ("Down With America!") without shutting them down.
No, dear, the Iraqi press can say "Down with America!" until it's collectively blue in the face. What it can't say is "Kill Americans and their friends!" And you know what, dear? Incitement is illegal in this country as well.
In Bushworld, it's fine to take $700 million that Congress provided for the war in Afghanistan and 9-11 recovery and divert it to the war in Iraq that you are insisting you are not planning.
Oops, the amount was actually more like $178 million, and went to overall military systemic improvements vital to counter-terrorism, Afghanistan and Iraq. I guess in Dowdtopia, Tommy Franks wouldn't be allowed to answer his new HQ phone unless the call came from Kabul.
In Bushworld, you don't consult your father, the expert in being president during a war with Iraq, but you do talk to your Higher Father, who can't talk back to warn you to get an exit strategy or chide you for using Him for political purposes.
Well, I'd say if your dad was the CIC who chickened out of finishing off Saddam the first time around then, no, I wouldn't go to him for advice. Perhaps there's a different definition of "expert" in Dowdtopia. As for God, well dear, just because you don't understand how to listen to Him doesn't mean the President is deaf as well.
In Bushworld, it's OK to run for re-election as the avenger of 9-11, even as you make secret deals with the Arab kingdom where most of the 9-11 hijackers came from.
Oh, you mean the $28 per barrel election-delivering oil deal that even Bob Woodward said didn't take place? Or is this some other secret deal? Or can you not specify because it's a secret. (Oh, btw, premium is running $2.35 a gallon by my house. Way to go, secret-deal-making guys!)
In Bushworld, you get to strut around like a tough military guy and paint your rival as a chicken hawk, even though he's the one who won medals in combat and was praised by his superior officers for fulfilling all his obligations.
If this is Dowd's idea of praise, no wonder she thinks she's so highly respected!
In Bushworld, it makes sense to press for transparency in Mr. and Mrs. Rival while cultivating your own opacity.
In Dowdtopia, it makes sense to start inserting incomprehensible sentences to pad out fading memes.
In Bushworld, you can reign as the antiterror president even after hearing an intelligence report about al-Qaida's plans to attack America and then stepping outside to clear brush.
Ah, yes, the infamous August 6 PDB. Well here's the text. You be the judge. At least he wasn't stepping out to boink interns.
In Bushworld, those who dissemble about the troops and money it will take to get Iraq on its feet are patriots, while those who are honest are patronizingly marginalized.
You mean folks like Dick Luger and Joe Biden are no longer invited to Washington A-List parties? It seems to me the only people who are completely "honest" about this matter are the ones who say they don't know how much it will cost because there are so many factors involved. This is an open-ended venture, dear. We ain't pricing Volvoes here.
In Bushworld, they struggle to keep church and state separate in Iraq, even as they increasingly merge the two in America.
Yes, I understand that in order to get the new electronic voting machines to work properly this fall, you have to type in the combination code from your Li'l Protestant Secret Decoder Ring. (Whoops! Shouldn't have said that....)
In Bushworld, you can claim to be the environmental president on Earth Day while being the industry president every other day.
In Dowdtopia, we'll all live a hand-to-mouth existence, using tools no more complicated than a hammer, a lever and maybe the wheel. You know - like most of the Third World. But damn, ain't that scenery pretty!
In Bushworld, you brag about how well Afghanistan is going, even though soldiers like Pat Tillman are still dying and the Taliban are running freely around the border areas, hiding Osama and delaying elections.
Actually, dear, the U.N. asked that the elections be delayed. Are they in cahoots with Osama? I know a lot of people think so.
Oh, and as for your using the death of Pat Tillman for your snarky little screed? Fuck you.
In Bushworld, imperfect intelligence is good enough to knock over Iraq. But even better evidence that North Korea is building the weapons that Saddam could only dream about is hidden away.
Hidden right there in the pages of the Washington Post. Clever. Is this a kind of "Purloined Letter" stunt?
In Bushworld, the CIA says it can't find out whether there are WMD in Iraq unless we invade on the grounds that there are WMD.
Wait, I'm confused. Is this the same imperfect intelligence on the basis of which you would have had Bush shut down the entire commercial airline industry, put AA batteries on the top of every tall building and arrest every Middle Eastern person in America instead of cutting brush?
In Bushworld, there's no irony that so many who did so much to avoid the Vietnam draft have now strained the military so much that lawmakers are talking about bringing back the draft.
No, dear. When the lawmakers involved happen to be Fritz Hollings and Charlie Rangel, "irony" isn't the word I'd use. "Naked partisan grandstanding" would be nearer the mark.
In Bushworld, we're making progress in the war on terror by fighting a war that creates terrorists.
Yes, the way our longstanding military campaign against Saudi Arabia produced the suicide squads that killed 3000 of our people here. Perhaps we should be funding more midnight basketball leagues over there.
In Bushworld, you don't need to bother asking your vice president and top Defense Department officials whether you should go to war in Iraq, because they've already maneuvered you into going to war.
In Dowdtopia, a President should always select advisors with radically different philosophies from his, the better to keep the country in helpless paralysis. While people are trying to kill us.
In Bushworld, it's perfectly natural for the president and vice president to appear before the 9-11 commission like the Olsen twins.
Given that the 9/11 Commission has devolved into a gang of snivelling partisan hacks who are even taking shots at firefighters who risked their own and their men's lives, I'd say Bush probably should have sent the real Olson twins instead.
In Bushworld, you expound on remaking the Middle East and spreading pro-American sentiments even as you expand anti-American sentiments by ineptly occupying Iraq and unstintingly backing Ariel Sharon on West Bank settlements.
I wonder what the Iraqi occupation would look like in Dowdtopia. Oh, yes - basket ball courts. At least we'd no longer be subject to manipulation from the JOOOOOOOOOOOOOS!
In Bushworld, we went to war to give Iraq a democratic process, yet we disdain the democratic process that causes allies to pull out troops.
Yes, you know how it's written right into the Spanish Constitution that any foreign terrorist group that wishes to influence elections has the unfettered right to blow up commuter trains. Makes you wonder what Campaign Finance Reform would be like in Dowdtopia. Noisy, I'd say.
In Bushworld, you pride yourself on the fact that your administration does not leak to the press, while you flood the best-known journalist in Washington with inside information.
In Dowdtopia, editing is considered a capital offense.
In Bushworld, you list Bob Woodward's Plan of Attack as recommended reading on your campaign Web site, even though it makes you seem divorced from reality. That is, unless you live in Bushworld.
Well, I don't actually see it. Go look yourself, if you like. But "divorced from reality"? Perhaps in Dowdtopia, they never show the movie Patton. (Probably because of all the imperialistic U.S. violence, lack of foresight, allied alienation and post-war confusion.) Let me quote you Patton's best line: Rommel! You magnificent son of a bitch! I read your book!!!
Well that's all the news from Dowdtopia - where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking and all the children write op-ed columns.
Queen of the Copperhead Fedayeen Maureen Dowd recently published an insane op-ed entitled Welcome to Bushworld. Let's take a look at her travelguide, shall we?
WASHINGTON -- It's their reality. We just live and die in it.
In Bushworld, our troops go to war and get killed, but you never see the bodies coming home.
The Pentagon established that policy in 1991. How many photos of the remains of our dead coming back from Mogadishu, the Khobi Towers and the U.S.S. Cole did you see? Oh, but Clinton was just feeling the families' pain, I'm sure.
In Bushworld, flag-draped remains of the fallen are important to revere and show the nation, but only in political ads hawking the president's leadership against terror.
Are those the same bodies we never see?
In Bushworld, we can create an exciting Iraqi democracy as long as it doesn't control its own military, pass any laws or have any power.
You mean all that talk in the Interim Constitution about a National Assembly (Chapter 4), Executive Authority (Chapter 5) and Judiciary (Chapter 6), together with the timetable for drafting a permanent Constitution (Chapter 9) was just thrown in because the drafters were getting paid by the word?
In Bushworld, we can win over Fallujah by bulldozing it.
Yeah, you know we're leaving just one big parking lot. Oh, and it's being run by that military the Iraqis don't control.
In Bushworld, it was worth going to war so Iraqis could express their feelings ("Down With America!") without having their tongues cut out, although we cannot yet allow them to express intemperate feelings in newspapers ("Down With America!") without shutting them down.
No, dear, the Iraqi press can say "Down with America!" until it's collectively blue in the face. What it can't say is "Kill Americans and their friends!" And you know what, dear? Incitement is illegal in this country as well.
In Bushworld, it's fine to take $700 million that Congress provided for the war in Afghanistan and 9-11 recovery and divert it to the war in Iraq that you are insisting you are not planning.
Oops, the amount was actually more like $178 million, and went to overall military systemic improvements vital to counter-terrorism, Afghanistan and Iraq. I guess in Dowdtopia, Tommy Franks wouldn't be allowed to answer his new HQ phone unless the call came from Kabul.
In Bushworld, you don't consult your father, the expert in being president during a war with Iraq, but you do talk to your Higher Father, who can't talk back to warn you to get an exit strategy or chide you for using Him for political purposes.
Well, I'd say if your dad was the CIC who chickened out of finishing off Saddam the first time around then, no, I wouldn't go to him for advice. Perhaps there's a different definition of "expert" in Dowdtopia. As for God, well dear, just because you don't understand how to listen to Him doesn't mean the President is deaf as well.
In Bushworld, it's OK to run for re-election as the avenger of 9-11, even as you make secret deals with the Arab kingdom where most of the 9-11 hijackers came from.
Oh, you mean the $28 per barrel election-delivering oil deal that even Bob Woodward said didn't take place? Or is this some other secret deal? Or can you not specify because it's a secret. (Oh, btw, premium is running $2.35 a gallon by my house. Way to go, secret-deal-making guys!)
In Bushworld, you get to strut around like a tough military guy and paint your rival as a chicken hawk, even though he's the one who won medals in combat and was praised by his superior officers for fulfilling all his obligations.
If this is Dowd's idea of praise, no wonder she thinks she's so highly respected!
In Bushworld, it makes sense to press for transparency in Mr. and Mrs. Rival while cultivating your own opacity.
In Dowdtopia, it makes sense to start inserting incomprehensible sentences to pad out fading memes.
In Bushworld, you can reign as the antiterror president even after hearing an intelligence report about al-Qaida's plans to attack America and then stepping outside to clear brush.
Ah, yes, the infamous August 6 PDB. Well here's the text. You be the judge. At least he wasn't stepping out to boink interns.
In Bushworld, those who dissemble about the troops and money it will take to get Iraq on its feet are patriots, while those who are honest are patronizingly marginalized.
You mean folks like Dick Luger and Joe Biden are no longer invited to Washington A-List parties? It seems to me the only people who are completely "honest" about this matter are the ones who say they don't know how much it will cost because there are so many factors involved. This is an open-ended venture, dear. We ain't pricing Volvoes here.
In Bushworld, they struggle to keep church and state separate in Iraq, even as they increasingly merge the two in America.
Yes, I understand that in order to get the new electronic voting machines to work properly this fall, you have to type in the combination code from your Li'l Protestant Secret Decoder Ring. (Whoops! Shouldn't have said that....)
In Bushworld, you can claim to be the environmental president on Earth Day while being the industry president every other day.
In Dowdtopia, we'll all live a hand-to-mouth existence, using tools no more complicated than a hammer, a lever and maybe the wheel. You know - like most of the Third World. But damn, ain't that scenery pretty!
In Bushworld, you brag about how well Afghanistan is going, even though soldiers like Pat Tillman are still dying and the Taliban are running freely around the border areas, hiding Osama and delaying elections.
Actually, dear, the U.N. asked that the elections be delayed. Are they in cahoots with Osama? I know a lot of people think so.
Oh, and as for your using the death of Pat Tillman for your snarky little screed? Fuck you.
In Bushworld, imperfect intelligence is good enough to knock over Iraq. But even better evidence that North Korea is building the weapons that Saddam could only dream about is hidden away.
Hidden right there in the pages of the Washington Post. Clever. Is this a kind of "Purloined Letter" stunt?
In Bushworld, the CIA says it can't find out whether there are WMD in Iraq unless we invade on the grounds that there are WMD.
Wait, I'm confused. Is this the same imperfect intelligence on the basis of which you would have had Bush shut down the entire commercial airline industry, put AA batteries on the top of every tall building and arrest every Middle Eastern person in America instead of cutting brush?
In Bushworld, there's no irony that so many who did so much to avoid the Vietnam draft have now strained the military so much that lawmakers are talking about bringing back the draft.
No, dear. When the lawmakers involved happen to be Fritz Hollings and Charlie Rangel, "irony" isn't the word I'd use. "Naked partisan grandstanding" would be nearer the mark.
In Bushworld, we're making progress in the war on terror by fighting a war that creates terrorists.
Yes, the way our longstanding military campaign against Saudi Arabia produced the suicide squads that killed 3000 of our people here. Perhaps we should be funding more midnight basketball leagues over there.
In Bushworld, you don't need to bother asking your vice president and top Defense Department officials whether you should go to war in Iraq, because they've already maneuvered you into going to war.
In Dowdtopia, a President should always select advisors with radically different philosophies from his, the better to keep the country in helpless paralysis. While people are trying to kill us.
In Bushworld, it's perfectly natural for the president and vice president to appear before the 9-11 commission like the Olsen twins.
Given that the 9/11 Commission has devolved into a gang of snivelling partisan hacks who are even taking shots at firefighters who risked their own and their men's lives, I'd say Bush probably should have sent the real Olson twins instead.
In Bushworld, you expound on remaking the Middle East and spreading pro-American sentiments even as you expand anti-American sentiments by ineptly occupying Iraq and unstintingly backing Ariel Sharon on West Bank settlements.
I wonder what the Iraqi occupation would look like in Dowdtopia. Oh, yes - basket ball courts. At least we'd no longer be subject to manipulation from the JOOOOOOOOOOOOOS!
In Bushworld, we went to war to give Iraq a democratic process, yet we disdain the democratic process that causes allies to pull out troops.
Yes, you know how it's written right into the Spanish Constitution that any foreign terrorist group that wishes to influence elections has the unfettered right to blow up commuter trains. Makes you wonder what Campaign Finance Reform would be like in Dowdtopia. Noisy, I'd say.
In Bushworld, you pride yourself on the fact that your administration does not leak to the press, while you flood the best-known journalist in Washington with inside information.
In Dowdtopia, editing is considered a capital offense.
In Bushworld, you list Bob Woodward's Plan of Attack as recommended reading on your campaign Web site, even though it makes you seem divorced from reality. That is, unless you live in Bushworld.
Well, I don't actually see it. Go look yourself, if you like. But "divorced from reality"? Perhaps in Dowdtopia, they never show the movie Patton. (Probably because of all the imperialistic U.S. violence, lack of foresight, allied alienation and post-war confusion.) Let me quote you Patton's best line: Rommel! You magnificent son of a bitch! I read your book!!!
Well that's all the news from Dowdtopia - where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking and all the children write op-ed columns.
Gratuitous Daddy Posting
My six year old has written her very first story and presented it to me as an (early) Father's Day present. Allow me to quote in full:
Kate
Once upon a time there was a flower that looked like this. [Picture of flower.] It was the prettiest flower on Earth. The end.
Thank you.
No, thank you.
My six year old has written her very first story and presented it to me as an (early) Father's Day present. Allow me to quote in full:
Kate
Once upon a time there was a flower that looked like this. [Picture of flower.] It was the prettiest flower on Earth. The end.
Thank you.
No, thank you.
Life Imitates Art Imitates Life - And the Bad Guys Lose
I happened to watch Zulu again last night for the umpteenth time. This is one of my favorite movies, recounting the Battle of Rorke's Drift, fought January 22-23, 1879, in which a British Army garrison of 140 men beat off an attack of 5000 Zulus. The superb Victor David Hanson devotes a chapter of his book Carnage and Culture to an examination of this battle, describing how the superior firepower and discipline of the Brits, backed up by unshaken courage, allowed them to win in the face of such lopsided odds.
Think the Thin Red Line doesn't exist anymore? Then read this account of how troops of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, caught in a recent Shiite militia ambush, fixed bayonets and charged their attackers, inflicting severe casualties and receiving very few in return. Amazing stuff.
UPDATE: Speaking of Hanson, the Great Man today demands an apology from some of the leading lights of the Copperhead Fedayeen. Not bloody likely.
I happened to watch Zulu again last night for the umpteenth time. This is one of my favorite movies, recounting the Battle of Rorke's Drift, fought January 22-23, 1879, in which a British Army garrison of 140 men beat off an attack of 5000 Zulus. The superb Victor David Hanson devotes a chapter of his book Carnage and Culture to an examination of this battle, describing how the superior firepower and discipline of the Brits, backed up by unshaken courage, allowed them to win in the face of such lopsided odds.
Think the Thin Red Line doesn't exist anymore? Then read this account of how troops of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, caught in a recent Shiite militia ambush, fixed bayonets and charged their attackers, inflicting severe casualties and receiving very few in return. Amazing stuff.
UPDATE: Speaking of Hanson, the Great Man today demands an apology from some of the leading lights of the Copperhead Fedayeen. Not bloody likely.
Llama Milestone
Today the Llama Butchers are six months old! Happy, er, half-anniversary to us!!
In celebration, let's take a look back at the ribbon-cutting of the Butcher's Shop. Steve-O's very first posts were these:
Well, Rob? Let er rip
******
We are the LLama butchers
We come in peace
to defenestrate the indefensible
to decapitate the corrigible
to spread havoc and fear among the idiotarians
we are llama butchers
hear us yip
And MY very first post, in response, was this:
Yeeeeee-Haaaaaw!!!! (Sound of swishing cleaver) Yip! Yip! Yip!
(Not inspired rhetoric, to be sure. But certainly a wee bit better than the typical "Hey u guys - I gotta blog ;-}")
Not to be too corny about it, but I think we've grown significantly since November, not just in terms of traffic and linkage, but also in terms of understanding what we're doing, why we're doing it and what it really means to be happy and successful as a blogger. (Hint: There's more to life than an Insta-lanche.)
I may write more about this later. In the meantime, let me just once again thank everybody who stops in for that daily pound of Llama Snark, or who has taken the time simply to stroll around the shop sampling the tasty bits. One thing you can count on as we go forward: We Llamas pledge to do everything we can to keep it just the way you like it - meaty, woolly, snippy.
Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip!
UPDATE: And as long as we're talking about milestones, Llama Yips go out to the Emperor of the Geeks for cracking his first thousand. Yip! Yip!
Today the Llama Butchers are six months old! Happy, er, half-anniversary to us!!
In celebration, let's take a look back at the ribbon-cutting of the Butcher's Shop. Steve-O's very first posts were these:
Well, Rob? Let er rip
******
We are the LLama butchers
We come in peace
to defenestrate the indefensible
to decapitate the corrigible
to spread havoc and fear among the idiotarians
we are llama butchers
hear us yip
And MY very first post, in response, was this:
Yeeeeee-Haaaaaw!!!! (Sound of swishing cleaver) Yip! Yip! Yip!
(Not inspired rhetoric, to be sure. But certainly a wee bit better than the typical "Hey u guys - I gotta blog ;-}")
Not to be too corny about it, but I think we've grown significantly since November, not just in terms of traffic and linkage, but also in terms of understanding what we're doing, why we're doing it and what it really means to be happy and successful as a blogger. (Hint: There's more to life than an Insta-lanche.)
I may write more about this later. In the meantime, let me just once again thank everybody who stops in for that daily pound of Llama Snark, or who has taken the time simply to stroll around the shop sampling the tasty bits. One thing you can count on as we go forward: We Llamas pledge to do everything we can to keep it just the way you like it - meaty, woolly, snippy.
Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip!
UPDATE: And as long as we're talking about milestones, Llama Yips go out to the Emperor of the Geeks for cracking his first thousand. Yip! Yip!
Random Commuter Thought Probably Of Interest Only To Me
My office window looks out on 10th Street between E and Pennsylvania. The entrance to my building's garage is on this same side. The FBI's Hoover Building is across the street. I have been in my office for five years. There has not been a single day during this period when this stretch of 10th Street and/or the sidewalk on the FBI side isn't having something done to it. Not one. Apparently, they simply dig holes and fill them up again. Strange.
My office window looks out on 10th Street between E and Pennsylvania. The entrance to my building's garage is on this same side. The FBI's Hoover Building is across the street. I have been in my office for five years. There has not been a single day during this period when this stretch of 10th Street and/or the sidewalk on the FBI side isn't having something done to it. Not one. Apparently, they simply dig holes and fill them up again. Strange.
Thursday, May 20, 2004
More On The Copperhead Fedayeen
James Joyner is worried that they may be winning, citing the likes of Matt Yglesias tossing off lines about our "total collapse in Iraq."
The crazy irony is that Copperhead prophecies of doom won't come true owing to what actually happens on the ground in Iraq. Instead, they will come true because of what we think is happening on the ground in Iraq. If the Left and the press continue to do nothing but tell us we are going to lose, lose, lose, then we will simply psyche ourselves into doing so. It's a weirdo kind of strategic self-hypnosis similar, as James notes, to the fallout over Tet.
Dammit, people, this can't happen! You and I can sit about and bloviate, but this is where Dubya really has to step up to the plate. Only he, with his bully pulpit, is going to be able to fight off this attack. Maybe we should start telling him this more directly. Here's his email: president@whitehouse.gov.
Go to it.
UPDATE: Our old friend TM Lutas picks up on the label and asks just who qualifies and what we do about them. I'll be interested to see the criteria and punishments he comes up with. One thing I would note is that in formulating this concept I have deliberately made the classification rather broad. This is because I believe there are a number of different subgroups with different agendas within it. Certainly, at least a sizeable part of the Left is simply interested in bringing Bush down politically, regardless of the practical consequences. On the other hand, there are probably others that are pursuing a genuine anti-U.S. agenda. I'm sure there are still others whose main concern is promoting their own ideas about the way the Middle East should govern itself, ideas that differ violently from what we are trying to do there.
All of these people now share the common goal of causing the United States to lose its nerve and slink out of Iraq with our collective tails between our legs. Given this, and the epic proportions of the disaster that would follow on such a course of action, I'm not overly concerned about being too delicate in teasing out all the individual agendas within the group.
James Joyner is worried that they may be winning, citing the likes of Matt Yglesias tossing off lines about our "total collapse in Iraq."
The crazy irony is that Copperhead prophecies of doom won't come true owing to what actually happens on the ground in Iraq. Instead, they will come true because of what we think is happening on the ground in Iraq. If the Left and the press continue to do nothing but tell us we are going to lose, lose, lose, then we will simply psyche ourselves into doing so. It's a weirdo kind of strategic self-hypnosis similar, as James notes, to the fallout over Tet.
Dammit, people, this can't happen! You and I can sit about and bloviate, but this is where Dubya really has to step up to the plate. Only he, with his bully pulpit, is going to be able to fight off this attack. Maybe we should start telling him this more directly. Here's his email: president@whitehouse.gov.
Go to it.
UPDATE: Our old friend TM Lutas picks up on the label and asks just who qualifies and what we do about them. I'll be interested to see the criteria and punishments he comes up with. One thing I would note is that in formulating this concept I have deliberately made the classification rather broad. This is because I believe there are a number of different subgroups with different agendas within it. Certainly, at least a sizeable part of the Left is simply interested in bringing Bush down politically, regardless of the practical consequences. On the other hand, there are probably others that are pursuing a genuine anti-U.S. agenda. I'm sure there are still others whose main concern is promoting their own ideas about the way the Middle East should govern itself, ideas that differ violently from what we are trying to do there.
All of these people now share the common goal of causing the United States to lose its nerve and slink out of Iraq with our collective tails between our legs. Given this, and the epic proportions of the disaster that would follow on such a course of action, I'm not overly concerned about being too delicate in teasing out all the individual agendas within the group.
See What Happens When You Abandon Your Post?
Steve-O, who even now is probably swilling brie n' beaujolais with those Jerry Lewis-loving Left Bank Monkies, was ranting not long back about the dearth of lesbian forensic pathologists on television.
Well Lawren has found a nifty little site that will help him write his own screenplay. If he were here now, I'm sure he'd get busy on it immediately.
Steve-O, who even now is probably swilling brie n' beaujolais with those Jerry Lewis-loving Left Bank Monkies, was ranting not long back about the dearth of lesbian forensic pathologists on television.
Well Lawren has found a nifty little site that will help him write his own screenplay. If he were here now, I'm sure he'd get busy on it immediately.
Musical Post
I came across this interesting gallery of Beethoven portraits over at Lynn's.
By all accounts I've ever read, Beethoven was something of a cantankerous lout. You get that impression looking at these paintings, sculptures and masks. (Interesting to compare this with the restrained but cheerful nature that seems to emanate from portraits of Haydn like these.)
As it happens, I have been fooling about lately with Beethoven's 1st piano concerto, trying to get some of the solo passages up to speed. It is fun but I much prefer doing this with some of Mozart's, mostly Nos. 18, 20 and 21. I've always found it outrageously unfair that Mozart saved virtually all of his best piano music for the concerti. They're great thoroughbred pieces to play, but where the hell are you going to find an orchestra to back you up? (One of my dreams is that when the kids get older we can at least indulge in some chamber music together. I've been talking up the virtues of string instruments lately.)
When I was a kid, my dad gave me a record of the orchestral parts of various famous piano concerto passages that you were supposed to play along with. (For those of you who might be too young, a "record" was an antique form of sound recording.) I never tried it because I was far too unskilled at the time. I wonder if anyone still makes something like that.
I came across this interesting gallery of Beethoven portraits over at Lynn's.
By all accounts I've ever read, Beethoven was something of a cantankerous lout. You get that impression looking at these paintings, sculptures and masks. (Interesting to compare this with the restrained but cheerful nature that seems to emanate from portraits of Haydn like these.)
As it happens, I have been fooling about lately with Beethoven's 1st piano concerto, trying to get some of the solo passages up to speed. It is fun but I much prefer doing this with some of Mozart's, mostly Nos. 18, 20 and 21. I've always found it outrageously unfair that Mozart saved virtually all of his best piano music for the concerti. They're great thoroughbred pieces to play, but where the hell are you going to find an orchestra to back you up? (One of my dreams is that when the kids get older we can at least indulge in some chamber music together. I've been talking up the virtues of string instruments lately.)
When I was a kid, my dad gave me a record of the orchestral parts of various famous piano concerto passages that you were supposed to play along with. (For those of you who might be too young, a "record" was an antique form of sound recording.) I never tried it because I was far too unskilled at the time. I wonder if anyone still makes something like that.
Llama Disclosure Of Youthful Indulgence
Our Llama Military Correspondent let the cat out of the bag yesterday about a certain Jessup International Moot Court Competition on the hallowed grounds of William & Mary in which we jointly represented our own fair school many years ago.
Just so charges of obfuscation won't come back to haunt me if I ever run for office, yes, I was still a bit drunk from the night before when I did my first round of oral arguments at 7:00 AM. Did pretty well, too, as I recall.
The hard part of the day was my second round at 1:00 PM. By then, a wicked, wicked hangover had set in. Not only that, I was up against some weedy little nerd from Duke, the kind of person who you instantly knew was a fervent believer in the holiness of international organizations and treaties. And the worst part of it was that his girlfriend, who was all over him, was one seriously fabulous babe.
Needless to say, with all that outrageous unfairness going against me, I crashed and burned pretty seriously in that round.
Our Llama Military Correspondent let the cat out of the bag yesterday about a certain Jessup International Moot Court Competition on the hallowed grounds of William & Mary in which we jointly represented our own fair school many years ago.
Just so charges of obfuscation won't come back to haunt me if I ever run for office, yes, I was still a bit drunk from the night before when I did my first round of oral arguments at 7:00 AM. Did pretty well, too, as I recall.
The hard part of the day was my second round at 1:00 PM. By then, a wicked, wicked hangover had set in. Not only that, I was up against some weedy little nerd from Duke, the kind of person who you instantly knew was a fervent believer in the holiness of international organizations and treaties. And the worst part of it was that his girlfriend, who was all over him, was one seriously fabulous babe.
Needless to say, with all that outrageous unfairness going against me, I crashed and burned pretty seriously in that round.
Copperhead Fedayeen Watch
The New England Republican reports on the media's eagerness to report that U.S. forces shot up an Iraqi wedding party before they, in fact, had the remotest idea what actually happened. With this "shoot first, ask questions later" attitude, it's a good thing members of the press aren't armed.
The New England Republican reports on the media's eagerness to report that U.S. forces shot up an Iraqi wedding party before they, in fact, had the remotest idea what actually happened. With this "shoot first, ask questions later" attitude, it's a good thing members of the press aren't armed.
Waugh-Hoo!
Sorry, sorry. Lamest. Title. Ever. But Enoch has been on something of a Waugh kick lately and I just can't resist.
First, he salted my screen-adaptation wounds by recounting Hollywood's dismal attempt to replicate The Loved One. Oh, the humanity!
Now he's got some interesting links about the great Basil Seal here and here. Great fun.
Seal is, of course, quite antithetical to Waugh's other heroes. Somewhere locked in my brain is the thesis that never got written: a consideration of the development of Waugh's anti-hero from Paul Pennyfeather up through William Boot, Tony Last, Guy Crouchback and Charles Ryder. Some day, perhaps.
Sorry, sorry. Lamest. Title. Ever. But Enoch has been on something of a Waugh kick lately and I just can't resist.
First, he salted my screen-adaptation wounds by recounting Hollywood's dismal attempt to replicate The Loved One. Oh, the humanity!
Now he's got some interesting links about the great Basil Seal here and here. Great fun.
Seal is, of course, quite antithetical to Waugh's other heroes. Somewhere locked in my brain is the thesis that never got written: a consideration of the development of Waugh's anti-hero from Paul Pennyfeather up through William Boot, Tony Last, Guy Crouchback and Charles Ryder. Some day, perhaps.
More On Screen Adaptations
Yes, file this under Horse - Beating a Dead, but I can't keep off the subject. Dan the Silver Fox has an interesting post up in which he argues that the success of a film adaptation of a greatly loved book is dependent on the film-maker's care in remaining true to the characters. I agree with this, of course. It would be impossible, for example, for Sam Gamgee to turn into a wisecracking hipster or for Jack Aubrey to become politically correct, as Dan rightly points out.
The problem I have with Dan's idea is that he extends it to suggest that if the film stays true to the characters, then it is okay for the film to mess about with plot and dialogue. I think this is, in fact, impossible: fictional characters don't exist outside of these elements. It is what they do and say within the written text that makes them the characters we love. (Dan says that he can't remember the individual plots of Sherlock Holmes stories but would recognize Holmes and Watson instantly if he saw them on the street. If I saw them on the street, my reaction would be to knock off drinking because I was starting to hallucinate again.)
It is pointless to argue whether what Gandalf or Jack Aubrey do or say in a given situation on screen is "true" to their character. If they did not do or say it in the book, then the question is moot. A screen character might do something that is Gandalf-like, but if it did not happen in the book, then that character is not, in fact, Gandalf. Another screen character might be Aubrey-esque, but if his words and deeds are not those set down by Patrick O'Brian, then he is not, in fact, a faithful representation of Jack Aubrey.
Yes, you can brand me a literalist, but to truly love a fictional character is to know and love every little element that goes to make up their persona. As I say, there is no source for these elements other than what is written in the book from which that character comes, including what he or she says, does and thinks. Mess about with these elements and you compromise the character. Compromise the character and you compromise the thing you love. I simply can't do that.
HT to Sheila.
Yes, file this under Horse - Beating a Dead, but I can't keep off the subject. Dan the Silver Fox has an interesting post up in which he argues that the success of a film adaptation of a greatly loved book is dependent on the film-maker's care in remaining true to the characters. I agree with this, of course. It would be impossible, for example, for Sam Gamgee to turn into a wisecracking hipster or for Jack Aubrey to become politically correct, as Dan rightly points out.
The problem I have with Dan's idea is that he extends it to suggest that if the film stays true to the characters, then it is okay for the film to mess about with plot and dialogue. I think this is, in fact, impossible: fictional characters don't exist outside of these elements. It is what they do and say within the written text that makes them the characters we love. (Dan says that he can't remember the individual plots of Sherlock Holmes stories but would recognize Holmes and Watson instantly if he saw them on the street. If I saw them on the street, my reaction would be to knock off drinking because I was starting to hallucinate again.)
It is pointless to argue whether what Gandalf or Jack Aubrey do or say in a given situation on screen is "true" to their character. If they did not do or say it in the book, then the question is moot. A screen character might do something that is Gandalf-like, but if it did not happen in the book, then that character is not, in fact, Gandalf. Another screen character might be Aubrey-esque, but if his words and deeds are not those set down by Patrick O'Brian, then he is not, in fact, a faithful representation of Jack Aubrey.
Yes, you can brand me a literalist, but to truly love a fictional character is to know and love every little element that goes to make up their persona. As I say, there is no source for these elements other than what is written in the book from which that character comes, including what he or she says, does and thinks. Mess about with these elements and you compromise the character. Compromise the character and you compromise the thing you love. I simply can't do that.
HT to Sheila.
Random Commuter Thought In Which Only I Would Be Interested
Outside of commercials, does anyone really use the expression "certified pre-owned vehicle"?
"Hey, Jim! I see you got a Lexus! New or used?"
"Neither, Tom! It's certified pre-owned!"
I don't think I'd want to know such a person.
Outside of commercials, does anyone really use the expression "certified pre-owned vehicle"?
"Hey, Jim! I see you got a Lexus! New or used?"
"Neither, Tom! It's certified pre-owned!"
I don't think I'd want to know such a person.
Wednesday, May 19, 2004
What the - ?
Check out this satellite photo of heat signatures and smoke plumes all over North Korea. I'm assuming these aren't Greek Week bonfires or anything....
HT to Glenn.
Check out this satellite photo of heat signatures and smoke plumes all over North Korea. I'm assuming these aren't Greek Week bonfires or anything....
HT to Glenn.
Is Our Comedians Learning?
So it appears that Jon Stewart of the Daily Show gave this year's commencement address at his alma mater, William & Mary.
Here's a choice "zinger" from his speech:
We declared war on terror. We declared war on terror—it’s not even a noun, so, good luck. After we defeat it, I’m sure we’ll take on that bastard ennui.
Ooh, very witty, Wilde, very witty. Um, the trouble is that terror is a noun, at least last time I checked. You might want to see about getting some of your tuition money back.
Oddly enough, Reen and her friends are using the post as an occasion to savage Christopher Wren's architecture.
Am I missing something here? At my old stomping ground, William & Mary was pretty universally known as "Bill and the Bitch," but I always thought the campus was rather nice. Go figure.
So it appears that Jon Stewart of the Daily Show gave this year's commencement address at his alma mater, William & Mary.
Here's a choice "zinger" from his speech:
We declared war on terror. We declared war on terror—it’s not even a noun, so, good luck. After we defeat it, I’m sure we’ll take on that bastard ennui.
Ooh, very witty, Wilde, very witty. Um, the trouble is that terror is a noun, at least last time I checked. You might want to see about getting some of your tuition money back.
Oddly enough, Reen and her friends are using the post as an occasion to savage Christopher Wren's architecture.
Am I missing something here? At my old stomping ground, William & Mary was pretty universally known as "Bill and the Bitch," but I always thought the campus was rather nice. Go figure.
Queen of the Copperhead Fedayeen
We have a winner! Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you one of the most detestable moonbats fluttering about the political scene, Maureen Dowd. Read her and weep.
We have a winner! Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you one of the most detestable moonbats fluttering about the political scene, Maureen Dowd. Read her and weep.
Llama Yips!
By the way, I wanted to thank Jeff, Kevin,Bill and The Emperor of the Geeks for picking up on our Copperhead Fedayeen meme. I also wanted to say howdy ma'am to Kathleen of the Cake Eater's Chronicles, and thank her as well. (My apologies to anyone else who has run with it that I haven't noticed.)
The next step is to get Glenn to stop stealing our thunder on this matter. Will no one rid me of this turbulent puppy-sipper?
By the way, I wanted to thank Jeff, Kevin,Bill and The Emperor of the Geeks for picking up on our Copperhead Fedayeen meme. I also wanted to say howdy ma'am to Kathleen of the Cake Eater's Chronicles, and thank her as well. (My apologies to anyone else who has run with it that I haven't noticed.)
The next step is to get Glenn to stop stealing our thunder on this matter. Will no one rid me of this turbulent puppy-sipper?
While Steve-O's Away...
Well, my partner in Llama snarkiness is off to the land of the cheese-eating surrender monkeys for a while (oh, the hard life of a tenured prof!). It's too bad that he'll be out on Friday, as that day will mark the first six months of our little endeavor. I must think of an appropriate way to thank everybody who has helped us carve out our little bloggy niche. It's gratifying, of course, to write for yourself and your immediate circle. But it's also very gratifying to think there are folks out there now who pay attention to what we think about things.
As you know, we are getting ready to launch the grand opening of our new shop. We're currently aiming for an opening date around June 1 or so. In the meantime, I'm afraid not much is going to happen over there. Steve-O mentioned that his first foray from Blogger into Movable Type was akin to moving from the controls of a biplane to those of a 747. For me, it is more like moving from my Microsoft Flight Simulator game to the aforementioned 747. I don't know bupkiss about all the technical bits. So rather than sailing the thing straight into a mountainside, I'm going to let Otto the Autopilot stay at the helm until Steve-O gets back.
Well, my partner in Llama snarkiness is off to the land of the cheese-eating surrender monkeys for a while (oh, the hard life of a tenured prof!). It's too bad that he'll be out on Friday, as that day will mark the first six months of our little endeavor. I must think of an appropriate way to thank everybody who has helped us carve out our little bloggy niche. It's gratifying, of course, to write for yourself and your immediate circle. But it's also very gratifying to think there are folks out there now who pay attention to what we think about things.
As you know, we are getting ready to launch the grand opening of our new shop. We're currently aiming for an opening date around June 1 or so. In the meantime, I'm afraid not much is going to happen over there. Steve-O mentioned that his first foray from Blogger into Movable Type was akin to moving from the controls of a biplane to those of a 747. For me, it is more like moving from my Microsoft Flight Simulator game to the aforementioned 747. I don't know bupkiss about all the technical bits. So rather than sailing the thing straight into a mountainside, I'm going to let Otto the Autopilot stay at the helm until Steve-O gets back.
Die LlamacMetzger!
I didn't realize Google could do such things, but this is us in German.
How would one say "Heh"?
I didn't realize Google could do such things, but this is us in German.
How would one say "Heh"?
Save The Cicadas!
The Beeb, out of sheer habit I suppose, is sounding the alarm over the threat posed by Eviiiil Civilization to Brood X:
Brood X might cut an imposing sight today, but their numbers are not as stable as they might seem.
The world has changed since they burrowed into the ground, 17 years ago, as freshly hatched nymphs.
While they were preparing for their month of glory, their habitats have been paved over by parking lots, enormous shopping malls and large tracts of homes.
Thousands of cicadas, entombed in concrete, will be unable to make it to the surface.
For once I am going to step into the caricature of the heartless, planet-destroying, Kyoto-bashing, Gaya-dissing, Day After Tomorrow-causing, Capitalist Pig-Dog and ask: Who the hell cares?
The Beeb, out of sheer habit I suppose, is sounding the alarm over the threat posed by Eviiiil Civilization to Brood X:
Brood X might cut an imposing sight today, but their numbers are not as stable as they might seem.
The world has changed since they burrowed into the ground, 17 years ago, as freshly hatched nymphs.
While they were preparing for their month of glory, their habitats have been paved over by parking lots, enormous shopping malls and large tracts of homes.
Thousands of cicadas, entombed in concrete, will be unable to make it to the surface.
For once I am going to step into the caricature of the heartless, planet-destroying, Kyoto-bashing, Gaya-dissing, Day After Tomorrow-causing, Capitalist Pig-Dog and ask: Who the hell cares?
Uh, Oh - VRWC Security Breach!
Kate over at Small Dead Animals obviously didn't read the same memo I got about keeping quiet, because she's spilling the beans.
Warning: The No Hot Beverages Rule is now in effect.
Kate over at Small Dead Animals obviously didn't read the same memo I got about keeping quiet, because she's spilling the beans.
Warning: The No Hot Beverages Rule is now in effect.
Antidote to Copperhead Poison
Lest you think that we Llama Butchers are right-wing zombies who believe Bush can do no wrong, let us hasten to add that the flipside of the Copperhead Fedayeen issue is the White House's failure to challenge it for the high ground. Sullivan gets it more or less right:
What Bush doesn't seem to understand is that in any war, people need to be reminded constantly of what is going on, what is at stake, what our immediate, medium-term and ultimate objectives are. The president has said nothing cogent about Karbala; nothing apposite about al Sadr; nothing specific about what our strategy is in Falluja. Events transpire and are interpreted by critics and the anti-war media and by everyone on the planet but the president. All the president says is a broad and crude reiteration of valid but superfluous boilerplate. This is not war-leadership; it's the abdication of war-leadership. We are at a critical juncture. With some perspective, we have achieved much in Iraq, with relatively low casualties. But it will all go to hell if we lose our nerve now. It's long past time that people can be asked simply to trust the president. After the WMD intelligence debacle and the Abu Ghraib disgrace, he has run out of that capital. He has to tell us how we will win, what we are doing, how it all holds together, why the infrastructure repair is still in disarray, and how a political solution is possible.
Sullivan goes on to question whether Bush actually has the time and skill to do this. Personally, I've given up on trying to figure this out. Time and again Bush has rope-a-doped his critics into foolishly dropping their guard, only to land a knock-out counterpunch that comes out of nowhere. As Glenn's post below suggests, that may be going on here. If so, the President has balls of titanium. If not, well, let's not think about that just yet.
Lest you think that we Llama Butchers are right-wing zombies who believe Bush can do no wrong, let us hasten to add that the flipside of the Copperhead Fedayeen issue is the White House's failure to challenge it for the high ground. Sullivan gets it more or less right:
What Bush doesn't seem to understand is that in any war, people need to be reminded constantly of what is going on, what is at stake, what our immediate, medium-term and ultimate objectives are. The president has said nothing cogent about Karbala; nothing apposite about al Sadr; nothing specific about what our strategy is in Falluja. Events transpire and are interpreted by critics and the anti-war media and by everyone on the planet but the president. All the president says is a broad and crude reiteration of valid but superfluous boilerplate. This is not war-leadership; it's the abdication of war-leadership. We are at a critical juncture. With some perspective, we have achieved much in Iraq, with relatively low casualties. But it will all go to hell if we lose our nerve now. It's long past time that people can be asked simply to trust the president. After the WMD intelligence debacle and the Abu Ghraib disgrace, he has run out of that capital. He has to tell us how we will win, what we are doing, how it all holds together, why the infrastructure repair is still in disarray, and how a political solution is possible.
Sullivan goes on to question whether Bush actually has the time and skill to do this. Personally, I've given up on trying to figure this out. Time and again Bush has rope-a-doped his critics into foolishly dropping their guard, only to land a knock-out counterpunch that comes out of nowhere. As Glenn's post below suggests, that may be going on here. If so, the President has balls of titanium. If not, well, let's not think about that just yet.
I'm leaving you in Robbo's capable hands....
Well, I'm off to the land of Frank J. for a week---I'm taking an alumnae group to Paris to do a Jefferson and Franklin in Paris tour. I promised the Alumnae Office that I would create no international/diplomatic incidents while there; however, I sure as heck aint going to be one of these "apostle Paul" Americans who goes to France and pretends to be Canadian. My philosophy is, I'm a guest, and I'll be very polite, however if pushed into talking about current politics I'm going to say what I believe. If necessary, I've got two bolts in the quiver: Stephen Decateur's "My Country, Right or Wrong, But Right or Wrong, My Country" and if that doesn't work, a nice resounding chorus of "Deutchesland Deutchesland Uber Alles" should do the trick.
The coolest thing on the trip is going to be a private tour of the Rochambeau family's American Revolutionary War museum, plus a trip to Lafayette's grave, where legend has it the American flag flew even during the, ahem, Nazi occupation.
Just title the effort "A Cranky American Hugenot Llamabutcher in Paris." George Gershwin I aint.
For the plane, I'm bringing Conor Cruise O'Brien's The Long Affair on Jefferson and the French Revolution, the new biography of Benjamin Franklin that just came out, and a copy of Tocqueville's The Anciene Regime and the French Revolution.
Expect some extremely silly pshopped pics of the Hugenot Llama in Paris upon my return.
Well, I'm off to the land of Frank J. for a week---I'm taking an alumnae group to Paris to do a Jefferson and Franklin in Paris tour. I promised the Alumnae Office that I would create no international/diplomatic incidents while there; however, I sure as heck aint going to be one of these "apostle Paul" Americans who goes to France and pretends to be Canadian. My philosophy is, I'm a guest, and I'll be very polite, however if pushed into talking about current politics I'm going to say what I believe. If necessary, I've got two bolts in the quiver: Stephen Decateur's "My Country, Right or Wrong, But Right or Wrong, My Country" and if that doesn't work, a nice resounding chorus of "Deutchesland Deutchesland Uber Alles" should do the trick.
The coolest thing on the trip is going to be a private tour of the Rochambeau family's American Revolutionary War museum, plus a trip to Lafayette's grave, where legend has it the American flag flew even during the, ahem, Nazi occupation.
Just title the effort "A Cranky American Hugenot Llamabutcher in Paris." George Gershwin I aint.
For the plane, I'm bringing Conor Cruise O'Brien's The Long Affair on Jefferson and the French Revolution, the new biography of Benjamin Franklin that just came out, and a copy of Tocqueville's The Anciene Regime and the French Revolution.
Expect some extremely silly pshopped pics of the Hugenot Llama in Paris upon my return.
Copperhead Fedayeen Round-Up
Yes, I am flogging this particular horse, but I think it's extremely important. Today's WaPo shrieks "Fear Of Failure Growing!" above the fold. Just read the opening paragraph of the story:
The Bush administration is struggling to counter growing sentiment -- among U.S. lawmakers, Iraqis and even some of its own officials -- that the occupation of Iraq is verging on failure, forcing a top Pentagon official yesterday to concede serious mistakes over the past year.
The entire tone of the piece paints a picture of near panic and chaos, as if Baghdad is about to turn into a combination of Saigon and Dunkirk. But distilled of it's tongue-swallowing rhetoric, all the article really relates is that Paul Wolfowitz told Congress that rebuilding Iraq is a tough business and that things haven't worked out as originally hoped. Well, duh.
As I've said before, the mainstream press is coming closer and closer to outright cheerleading for U.S. failure in Iraq as a means by which to bring down Bush. I have nothing but contempt for this.
I said it was a round-up, and so it is: Glenn has some good posts here and here, plus this one that suggests Bush is actually letting the press carry on this way in order to hang itself. Maybe, but Jesus what a strategy. Then again, I was never any good at poker.....
More on this later. I don't generally have the time or energy to do really extended posts, but this one is worth pursuing. Steve-O set out an excellent historical framework here. I'll try to follow up on that soon.
Yes, I am flogging this particular horse, but I think it's extremely important. Today's WaPo shrieks "Fear Of Failure Growing!" above the fold. Just read the opening paragraph of the story:
The Bush administration is struggling to counter growing sentiment -- among U.S. lawmakers, Iraqis and even some of its own officials -- that the occupation of Iraq is verging on failure, forcing a top Pentagon official yesterday to concede serious mistakes over the past year.
The entire tone of the piece paints a picture of near panic and chaos, as if Baghdad is about to turn into a combination of Saigon and Dunkirk. But distilled of it's tongue-swallowing rhetoric, all the article really relates is that Paul Wolfowitz told Congress that rebuilding Iraq is a tough business and that things haven't worked out as originally hoped. Well, duh.
As I've said before, the mainstream press is coming closer and closer to outright cheerleading for U.S. failure in Iraq as a means by which to bring down Bush. I have nothing but contempt for this.
I said it was a round-up, and so it is: Glenn has some good posts here and here, plus this one that suggests Bush is actually letting the press carry on this way in order to hang itself. Maybe, but Jesus what a strategy. Then again, I was never any good at poker.....
More on this later. I don't generally have the time or energy to do really extended posts, but this one is worth pursuing. Steve-O set out an excellent historical framework here. I'll try to follow up on that soon.
Random Commuter Questions In Which Only I Am Interested
I hate to subject our readers to such a wrenching turn in tone and topic (compare this post to the one immediately below to see what I'm talking about), but that's the way our tiny little minds work around here.
Anyhoo, the question that came to mind this morning is this: The Tim McGraw song Indian Outlaw is a parody, right? Right?
I hate to subject our readers to such a wrenching turn in tone and topic (compare this post to the one immediately below to see what I'm talking about), but that's the way our tiny little minds work around here.
Anyhoo, the question that came to mind this morning is this: The Tim McGraw song Indian Outlaw is a parody, right? Right?
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
Gratuitous Catholic Music Post
This evening I found myself slumped in front of the television watching Commando, a rather lame Ah-nold movie from a few years back. A Jerry Seinfeld-like entity in the back of my head finally squinted its eyes and said, "What are you doing?"
So I clicked off the television and repaired to my study to listen to some music. The choice that seemed obvious for dispelling feelings of wasted opportunity was a 1987 Allegro recording of Emma Kirkby and Evelyn Tubb singing Monteverdi duets and solos (with help from Anthony Rooley and the Consort of Musicke).
First, a word about Kirkby and Tubb. Their singing, in my humble opinion, is about as close to celestial as ever a mere mortal voice will ever come. There is a purity and grace to their performance that elevates them beyond the earthly diva trapped in her own self-importance. When you listen to one of them, you don't think "I am listening to Emma Kirkby - what a star she is." Instead, you think "I am listening to an echo of the Cherubim." The focus is on the music of the voice, rather than the person producing it.
Second, this particular CD is rather interesting. It includes fourteen duets and solos, half of them secular (di camera, if memory serves) and half of them religious (di chiesa, ditto). What is notable is that, even though they have wildly different themes, there is a readily obvious kinship amongst them. I don't just mean that Monteverdi wrote all of them. Instead, I mean that the joy and sorrow of earthly loves, as portrayed in the secular pieces, is expressible in the same terms as the joy and sorrow of the love of God, albeit with a different focus. I don't think this is the slightest bit illogical or irreconcilable - nothing in the Bible says that we must be miserably sterile on earth in order to enjoy Heavenly reward, or vice versa. And the good people of Venice in the 1620's evidently felt the same way.
The other thing about this recording that has always moved me to tears is the power of the religious pieces. The Sancta Maria and the O Bone Jesu are two prime examples. The grander pieces that come to mind when discussing religious music, Monteverdi's own 1610 Vespers to the Virgin Mary, Bach's Mass in B Minor and Mozart's Requiem, for example, are institutional in scope - "We, the Catholic People, address our collective prayers to you, Oh Lord." On the other hand, these duets and solos place the listener as an individual squarely in front of the Savior, face to face. No institutions. No crowd in which one can hide. My personal impulse, when confronted by this, is to want to throw myself at the feet of Jesus, not just in an act of contrition for my personal weaknesses, but also in an act of joy in celebration of His Kingdom. Monteverdi evidently felt this way too, as some of the pieces are in the forms of laments, dignified in their melancholy, while others are extremely happy.
Sorry if this all sounds rather loopy. It's late. Also, as some of you know, I have always been a strong Catholic sympathizer, even though I am an Episcopalian. I think my own church places too much emphasis on reason and not enough on faith, and sometimes I long for the comforts of the institutions built up over 2000 years in the service of that faith. The Butcher's Wife thinks I'm out of my mind to have anything to do with the Catholic Church, given the recent revelations of widespread abuse and corruption. My response is that these things do not represent The Church. Rather, they are the weaknesses of human beings serving within the Church and should be stamped out. As for what things do represent The Church, as that ideal is reflected in the imperfect works of Mankind, I don't think you can go far wrong by including the sacred music of Claudio Monteverdi.
Thus endeth the lesson.
This evening I found myself slumped in front of the television watching Commando, a rather lame Ah-nold movie from a few years back. A Jerry Seinfeld-like entity in the back of my head finally squinted its eyes and said, "What are you doing?"
So I clicked off the television and repaired to my study to listen to some music. The choice that seemed obvious for dispelling feelings of wasted opportunity was a 1987 Allegro recording of Emma Kirkby and Evelyn Tubb singing Monteverdi duets and solos (with help from Anthony Rooley and the Consort of Musicke).
First, a word about Kirkby and Tubb. Their singing, in my humble opinion, is about as close to celestial as ever a mere mortal voice will ever come. There is a purity and grace to their performance that elevates them beyond the earthly diva trapped in her own self-importance. When you listen to one of them, you don't think "I am listening to Emma Kirkby - what a star she is." Instead, you think "I am listening to an echo of the Cherubim." The focus is on the music of the voice, rather than the person producing it.
Second, this particular CD is rather interesting. It includes fourteen duets and solos, half of them secular (di camera, if memory serves) and half of them religious (di chiesa, ditto). What is notable is that, even though they have wildly different themes, there is a readily obvious kinship amongst them. I don't just mean that Monteverdi wrote all of them. Instead, I mean that the joy and sorrow of earthly loves, as portrayed in the secular pieces, is expressible in the same terms as the joy and sorrow of the love of God, albeit with a different focus. I don't think this is the slightest bit illogical or irreconcilable - nothing in the Bible says that we must be miserably sterile on earth in order to enjoy Heavenly reward, or vice versa. And the good people of Venice in the 1620's evidently felt the same way.
The other thing about this recording that has always moved me to tears is the power of the religious pieces. The Sancta Maria and the O Bone Jesu are two prime examples. The grander pieces that come to mind when discussing religious music, Monteverdi's own 1610 Vespers to the Virgin Mary, Bach's Mass in B Minor and Mozart's Requiem, for example, are institutional in scope - "We, the Catholic People, address our collective prayers to you, Oh Lord." On the other hand, these duets and solos place the listener as an individual squarely in front of the Savior, face to face. No institutions. No crowd in which one can hide. My personal impulse, when confronted by this, is to want to throw myself at the feet of Jesus, not just in an act of contrition for my personal weaknesses, but also in an act of joy in celebration of His Kingdom. Monteverdi evidently felt this way too, as some of the pieces are in the forms of laments, dignified in their melancholy, while others are extremely happy.
Sorry if this all sounds rather loopy. It's late. Also, as some of you know, I have always been a strong Catholic sympathizer, even though I am an Episcopalian. I think my own church places too much emphasis on reason and not enough on faith, and sometimes I long for the comforts of the institutions built up over 2000 years in the service of that faith. The Butcher's Wife thinks I'm out of my mind to have anything to do with the Catholic Church, given the recent revelations of widespread abuse and corruption. My response is that these things do not represent The Church. Rather, they are the weaknesses of human beings serving within the Church and should be stamped out. As for what things do represent The Church, as that ideal is reflected in the imperfect works of Mankind, I don't think you can go far wrong by including the sacred music of Claudio Monteverdi.
Thus endeth the lesson.
Going Ape
Ed's Monkey Watch is your one stop shopping source for all things simian, including soon-to-be-ex-Connecticut Governor Rowland. Go on over and check it out if you haven't been there before.
The reason I've been thinking about this site is that it is increasingly evident that the CD Rom full of pdf files that I've been working with all afternoon was put together by a pack of baboons. This is the only explanation I can come up with for the bizarre way in which the docs were organized and saved. Who the hell creates 300 separate one-page pdf files for the 300 pages of a single chart?
Ed's Monkey Watch is your one stop shopping source for all things simian, including soon-to-be-ex-Connecticut Governor Rowland. Go on over and check it out if you haven't been there before.
The reason I've been thinking about this site is that it is increasingly evident that the CD Rom full of pdf files that I've been working with all afternoon was put together by a pack of baboons. This is the only explanation I can come up with for the bizarre way in which the docs were organized and saved. Who the hell creates 300 separate one-page pdf files for the 300 pages of a single chart?
Our Condolences
Condolences go out to Gennie the Dizzy Girl, to whom we link from time to time, on the news that her nephew has been killed in Iraq.
There isn't much we can say except that he seemed like a good guy doing the right thing.
God bless.
Condolences go out to Gennie the Dizzy Girl, to whom we link from time to time, on the news that her nephew has been killed in Iraq.
There isn't much we can say except that he seemed like a good guy doing the right thing.
God bless.
Copperhead Fedayeen Watch - Update
John O'Sullivan has a round-up of recent press anti-war activity. As I say, I think this is quite deliberate.
Let me be clear: If you're oppossed to the war, even if you're a member of the press, that's fine. You are entitled to your opinion and good luck to you. But when you allow your opinion to cloud what is supposed to be objective reporting, and even more so, when you abuse your position by substituting thinly-disguised propoganda for honest reporting of fact in order to turn public opinion in your own direction, and especially when that direction is against your own damn government and in favor of its war-time enemies, you have crossed the line.
Thanks again to Glenn, tho I wish he'd realize that he's stealing my idea here.
John O'Sullivan has a round-up of recent press anti-war activity. As I say, I think this is quite deliberate.
Let me be clear: If you're oppossed to the war, even if you're a member of the press, that's fine. You are entitled to your opinion and good luck to you. But when you allow your opinion to cloud what is supposed to be objective reporting, and even more so, when you abuse your position by substituting thinly-disguised propoganda for honest reporting of fact in order to turn public opinion in your own direction, and especially when that direction is against your own damn government and in favor of its war-time enemies, you have crossed the line.
Thanks again to Glenn, tho I wish he'd realize that he's stealing my idea here.
Just a couple of random thoughts on Korea
Number One: Don't Eff with The United States of America, Roh says "D'Oh!":
Was that Roh, or was that D'Oh? What's significant here is not that these troops are being moved out of South Korea, but exactly where in South Korea they were being moved from.
Number 2: Another Humanitarian disaster caused by the United States (because, like, all the problems of the world are the fault of those evil Americans?)
Is the fall of 1989 being repeated? China aint exactly West Germany, but one wonders really how long the North Korean regime can survive if China sees it as the burden it is.
Number 3: True Weirdness:
And then there's this:
The explosion was caused by two trains colliding, and a power line then falling on the train. No word of whether Colonel Hogan, Kinch, and the boys were in the area.....
Number One: Don't Eff with The United States of America, Roh says "D'Oh!":
Monday
North Korea appeared even less inclined to scrap its nuclear weapons after three days of talks between its officials and those of the United States and four regional powers ended inconclusively at the weekend.
The return to office on Friday of the detente-minded South Korean President, Roh Moo-hyun, after the country's Supreme Court overturned an impeachment charge, has weakened the US options of trying tighter economic sanctions or military pressure to induce the North to disarm.
President Roh has signalled that his government will not countenance either approach, which would depend vitally on South Korean co-operation. He and the liberal Uri Party, which won a resounding victory in last month's National Assembly elections, favour continuing the "sunshine" policy of engaging the North Koreans.
Tuesday
The United States has notified Seoul it will withdraw 3,600 US troops from South Korea, where they deter an attack by the communist North, for combat duty in Iraq, a Pentagon spokesman said.
The decision to switch troops defending South Korea dramatically underscored the strains that have been placed on the US Army as it fights Iraqi insurgents.
The redeployment is part of a phased rotation of US forces in Iraq, said Lieutenant Commander Flex Plexico, a Pentagon spokesman.
"Over a period of months, the army looked at various units and recently, very recently, came to the conclusion that the best unit to provide the support was going to come from South Korea," he said.
Plexico said 3,600 of the estimated 37,000 US troops now stationed in South Korea will deploy to Iraq late in the northern summer.
The unit tapped for duty in Iraq is the 2nd Brigade of the 2nd Infantry Division, said a defence official, who asked not to be identified. Many of the 2nd Infantry are based near the tense border with the North.
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In Seoul, officials said the South Korean government was notified of the decision early on Monday.
The Pentagon spokesman said it should not be inferred that the move would lead to a permanent reduction of US force levels in South Korea.
"Don't draw that link. This is a deployment, it's a rotation," Plexico said.
"When we look at it a few months from now, we'll decide whether it makes more sense for those troops to come back to South Korea or to go somewhere else," he said.
Was that Roh, or was that D'Oh? What's significant here is not that these troops are being moved out of South Korea, but exactly where in South Korea they were being moved from.
Number 2: Another Humanitarian disaster caused by the United States (because, like, all the problems of the world are the fault of those evil Americans?)
North Korea is testing temporary exit permits allowing its citizens to visit relatives in China, in an apparent step to ease food shortages resulting from recent cuts in international aid.
Residents in Tumen, a Chinese border city near the north-east of North Korea, which has a large number of ethnic Korean inhabitants settled for generations, say that the new 30-day visit passes began in early April.
Large numbers of North Koreans had already used the passes. "The question is: will they return, or will they run as far as they can?" said one resident. "I have heard of both."
While applicants for the passes are supposed to name relatives living in China, there appeared to be little effort to check, and it was possible that many would have entered China on invented family connections.
Community leaders in Tumen speculate that the motive for issuing the passes was to help relieve pressure on limited food supplies in North Korea in the normally lean spring months before crops ripen.
Contributions by foreign governments to the United Nations' food assistance effort have fallen since a crisis blew up 18 months ago over North Korea's nuclear weapons schemes. Officials from six countries including the US and North Korea were discussing the crisis in Beijing yesterday as part of the Chinese-sponsored search for a solution.
The UN's World Food Program halted regular food rations to about 2.7 million needy North Koreans early this year as its food stocks dwindled. It concentrated resources on some 1.5 million people most at risk.
Local Chinese people of Korean descent who take food parcels across the border to their relatives are reporting that bands of hungry children are roaming some North Korean towns. One woman said she had food snatched from her hands by desperate children.
Ragged children from North Korea, who apparently crossed the shallow Tumen River that forms the border, have also been sighted more frequently begging in the city of Yanji and nearby towns.
With North Korea's partial transition to a market economy begun in mid-2002, people in villages are desperately compiling items for sale, including rusty nails extracted from old fences and buildings, and offering them for sale or barter at local markets.
Residents in China and UN officials say Chinese authorities are no longer automatically deporting any North Koreans found living in China illegally. Those who are employed, married or in de facto relationships are more likely to be allowed to stay, though UN officials say they still hear of disturbing cases of deportation.
About 200,000 North Koreans are thought to be living without papers in China.
Is the fall of 1989 being repeated? China aint exactly West Germany, but one wonders really how long the North Korean regime can survive if China sees it as the burden it is.
Number 3: True Weirdness:
Ryongchon Explosion Eight Times as Great as North Claims
TOKYO -- Japan's Kyodo News, citing numerous diplomatic sources in Vienna, reported Saturday that the force of April 22's train explosion at the North's Ryonchon Station was about that of an earthquake measuring 3.6 on the Richter scale, which would have required about 800 tons of TNT -- about eight times that officially announced by North Korea.
The sources referred to earthquake figures gotten by the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty Organization.
The North's official Korean Central News Agency had previously reported that the destructive power of the blast was that of 100 tons of dynamite, and explained that the accident was caused by "the electrical contact caused by carelessness during the shunting of wagons loaded with ammonium nitrate fertilizer and tank wagons".
The CTBTO feels that the cause of the explosion may differ from the North's explanation, and noted the explosion might have been caused by highly-explosive materials like military-use fuel going off. Officials at the CTBTO plan to look into the causes of the accident
And then there's this:
A North Korean missile shipment to Syria was halted when a train collision in that Asian country destroyed the missile cargo and killed about a dozen Syrian technicians.
U.S. officials confirmed a report in a Japanese daily newspaper that a train explosion on April 22 killed about a dozen Syrian technicians near the Ryongchon province in North Korea. The officials said the technicians were accompanying a train car full of missile components and other equipment from a facility near the Chinese border to a North Korea port.
A U.S. official said North Korean train cargo was also believed to have contained tools for the production of ballistic missiles. North Korea has sold Syria the extended-range Scud C and Scud D missiles, according to reports by Middle East Newsline.
"The way it was supposed work was that the train car full of missiles and components would have arrived at the port and some would have been shipped to Syria while others would have been transported by air," an official said.
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Officials said the North Korean shipment to Syria was not meant to have contained chemical or biological weapons. They said foreign rescue crews summoned to the train explosion did not report any chemical contamination.
The explosion was said to have been caused by a collision of two trains. The collision downed an electrical power line, the sparks from which detonated the fuel from the train.
On May 4, the Tokyo-based Sankei Shimbun quoted a military source that reported the death of the Syrian technicians. The newspaper said North Korean military personnel, wearing protective suits, removed the vestiges of the destroyed equipment meant for Syria.
The technicans were representatives of Syria's Center for Scientific Research, which has been cited for helping develop that country's weapons of mass destruction program. The technicians were said to have been trained in North Korea to operate the equipment.
Sankei said the bodies of the Syrians were flown home by a Syrian aircraft, which had arrived in Pyongyang to deliver aid supplies. The newspaper said North Korean personnel were also killed in the explosion.
The explosion was caused by two trains colliding, and a power line then falling on the train. No word of whether Colonel Hogan, Kinch, and the boys were in the area.....
Llamas Counter-Attack Hollywood
In a follow-on to my earlier ranting about screen adaptations that bastardize literature, I'm going to give Hollywood a taste of its own medicine by relating an idea that occurred to me last night:
I was watching Glory on HBO. (I rather like this movie, although I think Matthew Broderick is a little out of his depth. Can't quite shake the Bueller thing.) Anyway, for some reason I started channeling The Matrix and got thinking - what if I combine the two?
I had a delightful vision of Laurence Fishburne in a Union Army uniform but with those coo-ell sunglasses, saying to Broderick, "Suppose I told you that this entire war between the states is nothing but a construct, an artificial system designed to harness and harvest our deep-seated national divisions over the questions of slavery and states' rights?"
I had an even more delightful vision of Agent Smith dressed as a Confederate officer, standing atop the rampart of Battery Wagner and saying, "Goodbye....Colonel Shaw."
Hey, man, it's my vision! Writing commences tonight!
In a follow-on to my earlier ranting about screen adaptations that bastardize literature, I'm going to give Hollywood a taste of its own medicine by relating an idea that occurred to me last night:
I was watching Glory on HBO. (I rather like this movie, although I think Matthew Broderick is a little out of his depth. Can't quite shake the Bueller thing.) Anyway, for some reason I started channeling The Matrix and got thinking - what if I combine the two?
I had a delightful vision of Laurence Fishburne in a Union Army uniform but with those coo-ell sunglasses, saying to Broderick, "Suppose I told you that this entire war between the states is nothing but a construct, an artificial system designed to harness and harvest our deep-seated national divisions over the questions of slavery and states' rights?"
I had an even more delightful vision of Agent Smith dressed as a Confederate officer, standing atop the rampart of Battery Wagner and saying, "Goodbye....Colonel Shaw."
Hey, man, it's my vision! Writing commences tonight!
Destiny! That's For Me!
I guess with a name like Ruud Lubbers, you're more or less fated to commit sexual harassment at some point in your life.
If you can manage to do it in a way that embarrasses the U.N., at least some good may come out of it.
I guess with a name like Ruud Lubbers, you're more or less fated to commit sexual harassment at some point in your life.
If you can manage to do it in a way that embarrasses the U.N., at least some good may come out of it.
Jabba The Filmmaker
Elgato has the best separated at birth picture I've seen yet.
And Han shoots first.
Elgato has the best separated at birth picture I've seen yet.
And Han shoots first.
Noooooooooo!!!
Enoch Soames has the horrid news of a new Hollywood version of Brideshead Revisited which promises to completely bollux Waugh's story. According to the director, "If God can be said to exist in my version, he would be the villain."
That settles it. We're currently mulling over posting categories for the new digs. I am definitely going to include a special "Hollywood Hell" section. And I'm going to use it. Oh, yes, to be sure! I will have such revenges on you that the world shall - I will do such things - what they are yet I know not, but they shall be the terrors of the earth!
Enoch Soames has the horrid news of a new Hollywood version of Brideshead Revisited which promises to completely bollux Waugh's story. According to the director, "If God can be said to exist in my version, he would be the villain."
That settles it. We're currently mulling over posting categories for the new digs. I am definitely going to include a special "Hollywood Hell" section. And I'm going to use it. Oh, yes, to be sure! I will have such revenges on you that the world shall - I will do such things - what they are yet I know not, but they shall be the terrors of the earth!
Cardinal Biggles! Poke Him With The Soft Cushion!
Arnold Ahlert on the new prisoner interrogation guidelines:
May 18, 2004 -- SLEEP and sensory deprivation, and body "stress positions," are now "prohibited interrogation techniques," according to the latest release from the U.S. military.
To understand the monumental stupidity of this new initiative, imagine the following: We are lucky enough to capture one Abu Musab Zarqawi - a Jordanian militant with al Qaeda connections, specialist in bio and chemical weaponry, suspected organizer of much of the Iraqi resistance movement and alleged beheader of American civilian Nick Berg.
Now add the latest policy: No asking questions until the terrorist gets his refreshing eight-hour snooze - with the "night-light" on, if he so desires. After that, possibly a comfortable chair.
Got the picture? A man who would have volumes of knowledge about the world's most lethal terror organization, who likely knows where the next several attacks on U.S. soldiers will occur, a man who might even know where chemical and bio weapons are being stockpiled for use against Americans - and we'll treat him with kid gloves.
Why? To satisfy the "sensitivities" of those who are still incapable or unwilling to recognize the true nature of the enemy we face, even after 9/11 and a videotaped decapitation.
Milk and cookies, too?
Jesus Christ on Crutches! People - there's a war on. Mark my words: if AQ manages to pull off some big hit - Sarin at CPA HQ, for example - and it turns out that information about the attack could have been got out of a prisoner but wasn't owing to these new guidelines, are we going to see the Politically Correct crowd standing around saying, "Gee, maybe we were wrong to go so easy on these guys"? Of course not. The Left will simply jump all over it as one more example of Bush Administration incompetence. No doubt John Kerry will claim he is for tougher interrogation techniques. Except when he's against them.
Screw the sensitivities. Do what needs to be done to finish off the bad guys.
HT to a similarly gob-smacked New England Republican.
Arnold Ahlert on the new prisoner interrogation guidelines:
May 18, 2004 -- SLEEP and sensory deprivation, and body "stress positions," are now "prohibited interrogation techniques," according to the latest release from the U.S. military.
To understand the monumental stupidity of this new initiative, imagine the following: We are lucky enough to capture one Abu Musab Zarqawi - a Jordanian militant with al Qaeda connections, specialist in bio and chemical weaponry, suspected organizer of much of the Iraqi resistance movement and alleged beheader of American civilian Nick Berg.
Now add the latest policy: No asking questions until the terrorist gets his refreshing eight-hour snooze - with the "night-light" on, if he so desires. After that, possibly a comfortable chair.
Got the picture? A man who would have volumes of knowledge about the world's most lethal terror organization, who likely knows where the next several attacks on U.S. soldiers will occur, a man who might even know where chemical and bio weapons are being stockpiled for use against Americans - and we'll treat him with kid gloves.
Why? To satisfy the "sensitivities" of those who are still incapable or unwilling to recognize the true nature of the enemy we face, even after 9/11 and a videotaped decapitation.
Milk and cookies, too?
Jesus Christ on Crutches! People - there's a war on. Mark my words: if AQ manages to pull off some big hit - Sarin at CPA HQ, for example - and it turns out that information about the attack could have been got out of a prisoner but wasn't owing to these new guidelines, are we going to see the Politically Correct crowd standing around saying, "Gee, maybe we were wrong to go so easy on these guys"? Of course not. The Left will simply jump all over it as one more example of Bush Administration incompetence. No doubt John Kerry will claim he is for tougher interrogation techniques. Except when he's against them.
Screw the sensitivities. Do what needs to be done to finish off the bad guys.
HT to a similarly gob-smacked New England Republican.
Tony Randall, R.I.P.
Tommy and Sheila are breaking the news that Tony Randall has just died at the age of 84.
I've always been of a couple different minds about Randall. On the one hand, I always thought he was extremely funny. (The notion that I have modeled my life after Felix Ungar is nothing more than a vicious libel being spread about by Steve-O.) In addition, I always admired his work to build the National Actors Theatre.
On the other hand (warning: crankiness a' coming), I thought his fathering a child at age 79 was monstrously irresponsible on many levels.
Tommy recalls his favorite Randall joke. I have one too, although I cannot recall where or when I heard him tell it:
Groucho Marx, in his old age, was sick and in the hospital. Somehow or other, a man gets to come and see him and during the meeting, notes that it is his son Joey's birthday and that his son has always been a huge fan of Marx. Producing a tape recorder, the man asks if Marx might say a few words to Joey as a special birthday treat.
Marx looks at the mic for a moment and then says: "Happy Birthday, Joey....you son of a bitch!"
The way Randall intoned Marx was priceless.
Tommy and Sheila are breaking the news that Tony Randall has just died at the age of 84.
I've always been of a couple different minds about Randall. On the one hand, I always thought he was extremely funny. (The notion that I have modeled my life after Felix Ungar is nothing more than a vicious libel being spread about by Steve-O.) In addition, I always admired his work to build the National Actors Theatre.
On the other hand (warning: crankiness a' coming), I thought his fathering a child at age 79 was monstrously irresponsible on many levels.
Tommy recalls his favorite Randall joke. I have one too, although I cannot recall where or when I heard him tell it:
Groucho Marx, in his old age, was sick and in the hospital. Somehow or other, a man gets to come and see him and during the meeting, notes that it is his son Joey's birthday and that his son has always been a huge fan of Marx. Producing a tape recorder, the man asks if Marx might say a few words to Joey as a special birthday treat.
Marx looks at the mic for a moment and then says: "Happy Birthday, Joey....you son of a bitch!"
The way Randall intoned Marx was priceless.
Copperhead Fedayeen Watch
We Llamas must be right out in front of the curve, because both the Belmont Club and Lileks have thoughts this morning on the role of press coverage as a weapon and the catterwauling of the Left.
Also, read James' thoughts on what he likes to write. I mention this because I believe our own Butcher's Shop has been evolving in the same direction. And I like it a lot. I hope you do too.
HT to Glenn.
We Llamas must be right out in front of the curve, because both the Belmont Club and Lileks have thoughts this morning on the role of press coverage as a weapon and the catterwauling of the Left.
Also, read James' thoughts on what he likes to write. I mention this because I believe our own Butcher's Shop has been evolving in the same direction. And I like it a lot. I hope you do too.
HT to Glenn.
Gratuitous Domestic Blogging (TM) - Outdoor Division
(Obviously, I don't have that much to say about World Events this morning. Eh.)
So what do you do when you get home in the evening to discover that your half-dozen asclepias tuberosa and incarnata Ice Ballet bareroots have arrived, your wife has to leave in 25 minutes for a meeting (meaning you're O.C. children's bedtime tonight) and there is a line of thunderstorms moving in from the west?
You run like hell for the garden, that's what you do. If there were an Olympic planting event, I think I'd have won a medal last night.
(Obviously, I don't have that much to say about World Events this morning. Eh.)
So what do you do when you get home in the evening to discover that your half-dozen asclepias tuberosa and incarnata Ice Ballet bareroots have arrived, your wife has to leave in 25 minutes for a meeting (meaning you're O.C. children's bedtime tonight) and there is a line of thunderstorms moving in from the west?
You run like hell for the garden, that's what you do. If there were an Olympic planting event, I think I'd have won a medal last night.
Random Commuter Question That Will Only Be Of Interest To Me
Why is it that Buddy Jewell's new song Sweet Southern Comfort doesn't mention Virginia? You have a problem with Virginia, Buddy?
I mean, the DC suburbs aside, Virginia is more a part of the South than Texas (which does get a nod).
I'm just asking, that's all.
Why is it that Buddy Jewell's new song Sweet Southern Comfort doesn't mention Virginia? You have a problem with Virginia, Buddy?
I mean, the DC suburbs aside, Virginia is more a part of the South than Texas (which does get a nod).
I'm just asking, that's all.
Bug Out
Want to know more about our temporary visitors here in the East? Just take the last train to Cicadaville. The site is full of delightful slander and vicious fearmongering. Enjoy! (HT to Sullivan, of all people, who I suppose was in a pretty good mood yesterday.)
My own contribution to general cicada knowledge is this: When one flies into your windshield, it makes an ungodly thwack-ing sound. And a real mess. I happened to see a really tall guy driving a convertible yesterday afternoon - his head protruding quite a bit above the top of the windshield - and couldn't help but thinking that if one hit him at 60 mph, it would hurt like hell.
The local radio jocks are doing a cicada cook-off this weekend, which is easily one of the more disgusting things I've heard of. So where is PETA when you really need them?
Want to know more about our temporary visitors here in the East? Just take the last train to Cicadaville. The site is full of delightful slander and vicious fearmongering. Enjoy! (HT to Sullivan, of all people, who I suppose was in a pretty good mood yesterday.)
My own contribution to general cicada knowledge is this: When one flies into your windshield, it makes an ungodly thwack-ing sound. And a real mess. I happened to see a really tall guy driving a convertible yesterday afternoon - his head protruding quite a bit above the top of the windshield - and couldn't help but thinking that if one hit him at 60 mph, it would hurt like hell.
The local radio jocks are doing a cicada cook-off this weekend, which is easily one of the more disgusting things I've heard of. So where is PETA when you really need them?
Monday, May 17, 2004
You Ask. The Llamas Answer. And There Will Be A Quiz.
In a comment to a post below, our good friend and T-shirt babe Willow asks what I mean by the term "Copperhead Fedayeen."
Funny you should ask, Willow! This is a meme I've been trying to popularize in my humble way ever since we opened the Butcher's Shop. Basically, it takes two elements, the Copperheads of the American Civil War - those Northerners who were ambivalent about or sympathetic to the secessionists and who had an outright hatred for Mr. Lincoln and the Radical Republicans, plus the Fedayeen -loosely translated to mean Arab guerrillas, and folds the ideas behind them together.
What I mean by this term is that part of the media, together with various denizens of the Moonbat Left, who actively seek to damage the war effort by skewing the news, clouding the issues and otherwise sowing confusion, doubt and despair. As a general matter, I don't believe most of these people have any particular love for the terrorists and their backers. Rather, what motivates them is utter detestation of Dubya and that part of the American political spectrum he represents. (Loosely speaking, Red State Republicans.) To them, bringing down Bush is more important than winning the war.
Now, for your homework assignment tonight, I'd like each of you to go back to your own blogs and use the term "Copperhead Fedayeen" in a sentence.
YIPS from Steve: Rob is on to something very interesting and important here: the parallels between now and the election of 1864. Over the winter, these musings generally focused on the similarities between Wesley Clark and 1864 Democratic nominee George B. McClellan. Both were staff officers, highly-ranked graduates of West Point, both sacked of high command by the President, both leaving the service for business careers, and both running against what they characterized as an unpopular war of liberation. Clark was about as equally competent a candidate as was McClellan, but at least "Little Mac" lasted longer than the two months or so of the Clark phenomena.
But there are deeper parallels here too: we've been poking a sharp stick at the senior senator from Massachusetts on this matter lately as well, pointing out the parallels between Northeastern racist urban Democratic Irish pols who were against liberation and civil rights for non-whites and non-constituents, and with the behavior of their forerunners 140 years ago during the Civil War and Reconstruction. We've talked of parallels between the visions of the so-called neocons and Jefferson's revolutionary "Empire of Liberty;" what is little appreciated are the bold similarities of what we are trying to do in Iraq and what the Radical Republicans tried in the 1860s and 1870s. And what is very ironic indeed is the similarities between the voices of the urban, ethnic Democratic leaders of then and now. It might explain the sudden fondness of Chris Dodd for the historical vision of Robert Byrd, he of the "former" Klan membership and bit part as a Confederate general in Gods and Generals. "War means less patronage, and after all those being freed aint ever going to be constituent voters, so to hell with them" is their motto.
Interestingly, the usual voices on the conlaw professor listservs who roundly decry the failure of imagination and will during Reconstruction 130 years ago in the American south are oddly, strangely silent over isssues of today.
War brings out the worst in our species: compare the Andersonville Prison Camp with Abu Grahib, let alone Sherman's March to the Sea.
Here's a nugget I've dug out of Lincoln's papers, following the thought "What was Lincoln doing 140 years ago this week?" Answer: something eerily similar to the beheading of Nick Berg by AQ leaders; the murder of African American Union soldiers by Confederate guerillas.
What's important to recognize about this from a Hobbesian perspective is that if you fight outside of the law of war, you cannot in turn claim the protections of the laws of war in your favor. Fight us assymetrically, and we will fight you asymetrically. And if you use as your weapons random murder of innocent civilians as a purposeful strategy, then don't expect to be treated like a soldier when you are caught.
As for the 1864-2004 parallels for the election, we'll see: at this point things were looking pretty grim for Lincoln. It wasn't until the fall of Atlanta in September that Lincoln really locked up the election. What will the GWOT's Battle of Atlanta look like? I'm not sure.
And what of the election fo 1944? We were preparing to invade Europe, but it smelled like a quagmire for sure. Plus, what ever did Hitler have to do with Pearl Harbor? Ultimately, the whole "Germany First" strategy was premised on Hitler's campaign to get the atomic bomb. Sounds like FDR LIED! to me.
In a comment to a post below, our good friend and T-shirt babe Willow asks what I mean by the term "Copperhead Fedayeen."
Funny you should ask, Willow! This is a meme I've been trying to popularize in my humble way ever since we opened the Butcher's Shop. Basically, it takes two elements, the Copperheads of the American Civil War - those Northerners who were ambivalent about or sympathetic to the secessionists and who had an outright hatred for Mr. Lincoln and the Radical Republicans, plus the Fedayeen -loosely translated to mean Arab guerrillas, and folds the ideas behind them together.
What I mean by this term is that part of the media, together with various denizens of the Moonbat Left, who actively seek to damage the war effort by skewing the news, clouding the issues and otherwise sowing confusion, doubt and despair. As a general matter, I don't believe most of these people have any particular love for the terrorists and their backers. Rather, what motivates them is utter detestation of Dubya and that part of the American political spectrum he represents. (Loosely speaking, Red State Republicans.) To them, bringing down Bush is more important than winning the war.
Now, for your homework assignment tonight, I'd like each of you to go back to your own blogs and use the term "Copperhead Fedayeen" in a sentence.
YIPS from Steve: Rob is on to something very interesting and important here: the parallels between now and the election of 1864. Over the winter, these musings generally focused on the similarities between Wesley Clark and 1864 Democratic nominee George B. McClellan. Both were staff officers, highly-ranked graduates of West Point, both sacked of high command by the President, both leaving the service for business careers, and both running against what they characterized as an unpopular war of liberation. Clark was about as equally competent a candidate as was McClellan, but at least "Little Mac" lasted longer than the two months or so of the Clark phenomena.
But there are deeper parallels here too: we've been poking a sharp stick at the senior senator from Massachusetts on this matter lately as well, pointing out the parallels between Northeastern racist urban Democratic Irish pols who were against liberation and civil rights for non-whites and non-constituents, and with the behavior of their forerunners 140 years ago during the Civil War and Reconstruction. We've talked of parallels between the visions of the so-called neocons and Jefferson's revolutionary "Empire of Liberty;" what is little appreciated are the bold similarities of what we are trying to do in Iraq and what the Radical Republicans tried in the 1860s and 1870s. And what is very ironic indeed is the similarities between the voices of the urban, ethnic Democratic leaders of then and now. It might explain the sudden fondness of Chris Dodd for the historical vision of Robert Byrd, he of the "former" Klan membership and bit part as a Confederate general in Gods and Generals. "War means less patronage, and after all those being freed aint ever going to be constituent voters, so to hell with them" is their motto.
Interestingly, the usual voices on the conlaw professor listservs who roundly decry the failure of imagination and will during Reconstruction 130 years ago in the American south are oddly, strangely silent over isssues of today.
War brings out the worst in our species: compare the Andersonville Prison Camp with Abu Grahib, let alone Sherman's March to the Sea.
Here's a nugget I've dug out of Lincoln's papers, following the thought "What was Lincoln doing 140 years ago this week?" Answer: something eerily similar to the beheading of Nick Berg by AQ leaders; the murder of African American Union soldiers by Confederate guerillas.
Letter of Abraham Lincoln to Edwin M. Stanton, Secretary of War, dated May 17, 1864. (Abraham Lincoln: Speeches and Writings, 1859-1865 (Library of America, 1989), p. 594.
Please notify the insurgents, through the proper military channels and forms, that the government of the United States has satisfactory proof of the massacre, by insurgent forces, at Fort Pillow, on the 12th. and 13th. days of April last, of fully white and colored officers and soldiers of the United States, after the latter had ceased resistance, and asked quarter of the former.
That with referrence to said massacre, the government of the United States has assigned and set apart by name [redacted] insurgent officers, theretefore, and up to that time, held by said government as prisoners of war.
That, as blood can not restore blood, and government should not act for revenge, any assurance, as nearly perfect as the case admits, given on or before the first day of June next, that there shall be no similar massacre, nor any officer or soldier of the United States, whether white or colored, now held, or hereafter captured by the insurgents, shall be treated other than according to the laws of war, will insure the replacing of said insurgent officers in the simple condition of prisoners of war.
That the insurgents having refused to exchange, or to give any account or explanation in regard to colored soldiers of the United States captured by them, a number of insurgent prisoners equal to the number of such colored soldiers supposed to have been captured by said insurgents will, from time to time, be assigned and set aside, with reference to such captured soldiers, and will, if the insurgents assent, be exchanged for such colored soldiers; but that if not satisfactory attention shall be given to this notice, by said insurgents, on or before the first day of July next, it will be assumed by the government of the United States, that said captured colored troops shall have been murdered, or subjected to Slavery, and that said government will, upon said assumption, take such action as may then appear expedient and just.
What's important to recognize about this from a Hobbesian perspective is that if you fight outside of the law of war, you cannot in turn claim the protections of the laws of war in your favor. Fight us assymetrically, and we will fight you asymetrically. And if you use as your weapons random murder of innocent civilians as a purposeful strategy, then don't expect to be treated like a soldier when you are caught.
As for the 1864-2004 parallels for the election, we'll see: at this point things were looking pretty grim for Lincoln. It wasn't until the fall of Atlanta in September that Lincoln really locked up the election. What will the GWOT's Battle of Atlanta look like? I'm not sure.
And what of the election fo 1944? We were preparing to invade Europe, but it smelled like a quagmire for sure. Plus, what ever did Hitler have to do with Pearl Harbor? Ultimately, the whole "Germany First" strategy was premised on Hitler's campaign to get the atomic bomb. Sounds like FDR LIED! to me.
Oh, Those WMDs!
Citizen Smash has the round-up of breaking stories and early reaction to the discovery of Sarin and mustard gas artillery shells in Iraq.
I am not going to get too worked up over the impact that this news might have on the debate over the war. That's because, at least among the chattering classes, it isn't going to have one. We could stumble across a gigantic James Bond villain-like underground complex tomorrow, chock full of nuclear, biological and chemical weapons, all of them stamped "F.O.B. New York and Tel Aviv" and it wouldn't matter a pair of fetid dingo's kidneys to the Copperhead Fedayeen, whose sole goal is to bring down Dubya at any cost.
What will be interesting to see is what effect this story might have on the rest of the population. We, along with a lot of other folks, had a big traffic surge after the Nick Berg murder, as lots of folks went on line to ferret out information they weren't getting from the mainstream press - who were all still busy flogging the Abu Ghraib prison story to pay it any attention. I wonder whether something similar might not happen here. (Just in case: Sarin. Sarin. Sarin. Sarin. Sarin.) I think it probable that this trend towards alternative news sources will continue and may very well be accelerated by the determination of the mainstream press to play down stories that don't fit in with its notions of how the Iraq story should be spun. We'll see.
Citizen Smash has the round-up of breaking stories and early reaction to the discovery of Sarin and mustard gas artillery shells in Iraq.
I am not going to get too worked up over the impact that this news might have on the debate over the war. That's because, at least among the chattering classes, it isn't going to have one. We could stumble across a gigantic James Bond villain-like underground complex tomorrow, chock full of nuclear, biological and chemical weapons, all of them stamped "F.O.B. New York and Tel Aviv" and it wouldn't matter a pair of fetid dingo's kidneys to the Copperhead Fedayeen, whose sole goal is to bring down Dubya at any cost.
What will be interesting to see is what effect this story might have on the rest of the population. We, along with a lot of other folks, had a big traffic surge after the Nick Berg murder, as lots of folks went on line to ferret out information they weren't getting from the mainstream press - who were all still busy flogging the Abu Ghraib prison story to pay it any attention. I wonder whether something similar might not happen here. (Just in case: Sarin. Sarin. Sarin. Sarin. Sarin.) I think it probable that this trend towards alternative news sources will continue and may very well be accelerated by the determination of the mainstream press to play down stories that don't fit in with its notions of how the Iraq story should be spun. We'll see.
Well There's A Distinction (I Guess)
Turns out that we are the number one hit for a Google search of "llama Troy 'Brad Pitt'." Hope you found what you were looking for, whoever you are.
What's a little strange is that there are 160 other results for this search. Did the makers of Troy feel the need to insert Rusty the Wonder Llama into the movie for comic relief?
Turns out that we are the number one hit for a Google search of "llama Troy 'Brad Pitt'." Hope you found what you were looking for, whoever you are.
What's a little strange is that there are 160 other results for this search. Did the makers of Troy feel the need to insert Rusty the Wonder Llama into the movie for comic relief?
Jazz Notes
Dean has some recommendations for classical music lovers interested in branching out a bit into jazz. Because it's one of my favorite recordings by one of my favorite musicians, I'd add this to the list: Benny Goodman's 1938 performance at Carnegie Hall. No matter how you go about defining "jazz" I don't think you can truthfully say you've heard all its high points without listening to Goodman and his boys going flat out in "Sing, Sing, Sing" in that concert. Just thinking about it gets my foot tapping. (Unless that's the extra cup of coffee I just had.)
Oh, one other good recording that comes whizzing to mind out of left field: The music from Woody Allen's Sleeper. (I don't think the soundtrack is available separately, but there are long periods of slapstick in the movie where nobody is talking and you can indulge in some old-time New Awleens stomping.)
Dean has some recommendations for classical music lovers interested in branching out a bit into jazz. Because it's one of my favorite recordings by one of my favorite musicians, I'd add this to the list: Benny Goodman's 1938 performance at Carnegie Hall. No matter how you go about defining "jazz" I don't think you can truthfully say you've heard all its high points without listening to Goodman and his boys going flat out in "Sing, Sing, Sing" in that concert. Just thinking about it gets my foot tapping. (Unless that's the extra cup of coffee I just had.)
Oh, one other good recording that comes whizzing to mind out of left field: The music from Woody Allen's Sleeper. (I don't think the soundtrack is available separately, but there are long periods of slapstick in the movie where nobody is talking and you can indulge in some old-time New Awleens stomping.)
Fools!
Sheila picks up on something I wasn't even aware of: That people trying to convince us that the new movie Troy is worth seeing as an introduction to Antiquity in general and Homer in particular can't even get their damn quotes straight! (Be sure to check out the link to Josh Chafetz, who has more.)
This post reminds me of what I have always found to be a very droll little joke by Peter Schickele, creator of P.D.Q. Bach. In the introduction to P.D.Q. Bach at Carnegie Hall, Schickele says to his audience (I quote from memory - how's that for geekiness?):
Hey it always amazes me that at this point, after many concerts and a recording, there are still those who, uh, doubt the existence of P.D.Q Bach. Well, uh, you know, uh..What can I say? The idea that his works were actually written by Christopher Marlowe seems ridiculous. Aside from the...stylistic problems involved, I'm sure...Marlowe could have done a better job.
Do yourself a favor. Read Doctor Faustus. Read The Iliad (Fitzgerald trans.). Listen to P.D.Q. Bach. Ignore Troy.
Sheila picks up on something I wasn't even aware of: That people trying to convince us that the new movie Troy is worth seeing as an introduction to Antiquity in general and Homer in particular can't even get their damn quotes straight! (Be sure to check out the link to Josh Chafetz, who has more.)
This post reminds me of what I have always found to be a very droll little joke by Peter Schickele, creator of P.D.Q. Bach. In the introduction to P.D.Q. Bach at Carnegie Hall, Schickele says to his audience (I quote from memory - how's that for geekiness?):
Hey it always amazes me that at this point, after many concerts and a recording, there are still those who, uh, doubt the existence of P.D.Q Bach. Well, uh, you know, uh..What can I say? The idea that his works were actually written by Christopher Marlowe seems ridiculous. Aside from the...stylistic problems involved, I'm sure...Marlowe could have done a better job.
Do yourself a favor. Read Doctor Faustus. Read The Iliad (Fitzgerald trans.). Listen to P.D.Q. Bach. Ignore Troy.
Geek List Update
As most of you know, I recently thought it would be fun to do a top ten list of what makes you a geek. I was quite gratified to see this little exercise picked up and tossed about the blogsphere a bit.
The reason I bring it up again is because as I was out hoeing baby weedlings to an early grave this weekend, it suddenly occurred to me that I had omitted one of my Principle Points of Geekdom ("PPG's"?) from my list. Can't think how it slipped my mind earlier. Must be getting old. Anyway, allow me to now rectify that omission:
Probably my absolute favorite short stories in the world are the collection now known as The Irish R.M., by E.O. Somerville and Martin Ross. (I say "now known" because they originally came out in three separate books but have now been combined into a single volume.) I believe I have read these stories more times than any other book I can think of and I practically have them memorized.
I don't like the video version starring Peter Boyle, however. It tries very hard to capture the flavor of the books, but in the end must fail because the books are written in the form of first person narratives that describe not just what is happening, but what the speaker (Major Yeats) thinks about it as well. The humor of the stories, in large part, is in the language the speaker uses to tell them, something that it is simply impossible to duplicate on screen.
(This, by the way, is part of why I dislike the Jeeves and Wooster video series. There are other reasons as well.)
So go ahead and add The Irish R.M. to my list of PPG's. I suppose you could add "screen adaptations" to my list of Personal Points of Crankiness ("PPC's"), but that's a different meme.........
As most of you know, I recently thought it would be fun to do a top ten list of what makes you a geek. I was quite gratified to see this little exercise picked up and tossed about the blogsphere a bit.
The reason I bring it up again is because as I was out hoeing baby weedlings to an early grave this weekend, it suddenly occurred to me that I had omitted one of my Principle Points of Geekdom ("PPG's"?) from my list. Can't think how it slipped my mind earlier. Must be getting old. Anyway, allow me to now rectify that omission:
Probably my absolute favorite short stories in the world are the collection now known as The Irish R.M., by E.O. Somerville and Martin Ross. (I say "now known" because they originally came out in three separate books but have now been combined into a single volume.) I believe I have read these stories more times than any other book I can think of and I practically have them memorized.
I don't like the video version starring Peter Boyle, however. It tries very hard to capture the flavor of the books, but in the end must fail because the books are written in the form of first person narratives that describe not just what is happening, but what the speaker (Major Yeats) thinks about it as well. The humor of the stories, in large part, is in the language the speaker uses to tell them, something that it is simply impossible to duplicate on screen.
(This, by the way, is part of why I dislike the Jeeves and Wooster video series. There are other reasons as well.)
So go ahead and add The Irish R.M. to my list of PPG's. I suppose you could add "screen adaptations" to my list of Personal Points of Crankiness ("PPC's"), but that's a different meme.........
Aargh!
Rachel Lucas inadvertently (because she doesn't know me from Adam) touches an exposed nerve by posting a beautiful photo of her Confederate jasmine.
If I could, I would festoon every free inch of fence space with this stuff. Alas, we're just too damn far north for it.
Rachel Lucas inadvertently (because she doesn't know me from Adam) touches an exposed nerve by posting a beautiful photo of her Confederate jasmine.
If I could, I would festoon every free inch of fence space with this stuff. Alas, we're just too damn far north for it.
Llama Yips
We wanted to highlight the addition of Protein Wisdom to the crowd who share the dubious distinction of membership on the Llamas' blogroll. Sometimes these things just come to you, as if a little voice suddenly whispered in your ear "Dave, you really need to blogroll this guy."
I listen to pretty much all the voices in my head except the really high-pitched squeeky one that only speaks Esperanto. Can't understand what that guy's talking about. But the other ones generally offer good advice - and this tip was no exception.
Speaking of bloggy stuff, thanks very much for the enthusiastic tribute from the Hatemonger's Quarterly. I have to confess to the Crack Young Staff over there that all of the photoshopping, of which they are so fond, is Steve-O's work product. I am such a Luddite when it comes to these things that I can't even figure out how to post unaltered pictures on the site, much less those that have been tarted up.
Yip! Yip! Yip!
We wanted to highlight the addition of Protein Wisdom to the crowd who share the dubious distinction of membership on the Llamas' blogroll. Sometimes these things just come to you, as if a little voice suddenly whispered in your ear "Dave, you really need to blogroll this guy."
I listen to pretty much all the voices in my head except the really high-pitched squeeky one that only speaks Esperanto. Can't understand what that guy's talking about. But the other ones generally offer good advice - and this tip was no exception.
Speaking of bloggy stuff, thanks very much for the enthusiastic tribute from the Hatemonger's Quarterly. I have to confess to the Crack Young Staff over there that all of the photoshopping, of which they are so fond, is Steve-O's work product. I am such a Luddite when it comes to these things that I can't even figure out how to post unaltered pictures on the site, much less those that have been tarted up.
Yip! Yip! Yip!
Monday Morning Lag
So much for a fast jump on the work week: I had to stop this morning on the way in and my car inspected. My old sticker actually expired two months ago, so it was only a matter of time before the long arm of the law descended on the back of my collar. Alas, it throws the carefully calibrated llama schedule off a bit, so I won't have time until later to natter too much.
Meanwhile, though, I can announce that Brood X burst around our neighborhood this weekend. The funniest thing about it is the noise - I had expected the air to be full of that high-pitched skreeeing sound. The cicadas do sound like that nearby, but for whatever reason of compound audio dynamics, the collective noise from farther off is much different, a kind of pulsing tone. At first I thought it was an alarm system going off somewhere. Later it occurred to me that the sound is just like the phaser sound from the original Star Trek series.
As you can imagine, we are learning a lot about cicadas now. The first thing you learn is how badly they do when they encounter the little attributes of suburban life: windshields, weed-whackers, little girls with pointed sticks, etc. And then it hits you - here is a big, slow, stupid bug that has evolved exactly as far as it needs in order to reproduce and no more. Nature, in her infinite wisdom, decided that flooding the zone was the best way to ensure their collective survival. Each individual is utterly on its own and pretty much hopeless at self-preservation.
Speaking of slow, stupid bugs, go on over and read Glenn's round up on Antonia Zerbisias of the Toronto Star, whose smug, snarky editorial declaration that warbloggers have "fallen silent" has roused a hornet's nest of response. Heh all around.
Yip at you later!
So much for a fast jump on the work week: I had to stop this morning on the way in and my car inspected. My old sticker actually expired two months ago, so it was only a matter of time before the long arm of the law descended on the back of my collar. Alas, it throws the carefully calibrated llama schedule off a bit, so I won't have time until later to natter too much.
Meanwhile, though, I can announce that Brood X burst around our neighborhood this weekend. The funniest thing about it is the noise - I had expected the air to be full of that high-pitched skreeeing sound. The cicadas do sound like that nearby, but for whatever reason of compound audio dynamics, the collective noise from farther off is much different, a kind of pulsing tone. At first I thought it was an alarm system going off somewhere. Later it occurred to me that the sound is just like the phaser sound from the original Star Trek series.
As you can imagine, we are learning a lot about cicadas now. The first thing you learn is how badly they do when they encounter the little attributes of suburban life: windshields, weed-whackers, little girls with pointed sticks, etc. And then it hits you - here is a big, slow, stupid bug that has evolved exactly as far as it needs in order to reproduce and no more. Nature, in her infinite wisdom, decided that flooding the zone was the best way to ensure their collective survival. Each individual is utterly on its own and pretty much hopeless at self-preservation.
Speaking of slow, stupid bugs, go on over and read Glenn's round up on Antonia Zerbisias of the Toronto Star, whose smug, snarky editorial declaration that warbloggers have "fallen silent" has roused a hornet's nest of response. Heh all around.
Yip at you later!
Busy day around casa llama
We're moving our offices at work so I have to go in and work on the packing, which will be hectic as the other folks will be there and I'm going to be pressed into service as a beast of burden. Waaa. So not much from me today, alas.
Big weekend--yesterday was fun as I finally did the graduation walk for my PhD over at UVa, albeit four years later. When I was supposed to do it something more important came up: being the Godfather for Robbo's second. It was an easy choice. I remember that weekend well--Robbo and I snuck out Saturday afternoon and saw "Gladiator" and then had a few beers. It was very cold and rainy, until time for the dinner bbq and then it was nice. The high point of the weekend---other than putting out hits on the heads of the five families---came in the little conference room at the church during the training/rehearsal. So I was sitting there and in walks this family and they are sitting across from us. The guy was looking very familiar but it took me a minute to place him. It was a small room, and there were only the two families there. Did the whole business section, we're getting up to leave, and at the door I put out my hand to the grandfather of the other family and with his wry smile we shook hands. I said, "It's good to be the Godfather" in my best Don Corleone voice, and Dick Cheney said, "Yes, it is."
Anyhoo, my darling wife Saturday night convinced me I should just go and do the walk down the lawn, and to be perfectly honest, I'm glad I did.
Big day today: 50th anniversary of Brown v. Board. I have three extended posts I want to put up later: the full text of the decision, to see how well the rhetoric and legal logic hold up; the alternative history of what could have happened if the Court had used the concurring decision that Robert Jackson had written but never published. I've always preferred Jackson's opinion because he grounds overturning Plessy's separate but equal doctrine in the dissent to that decision written by Justice John Marshall Harlan: segregation violates the core values of the fourteenth amendment, period. End of sentence. The third post is a jpeg of the picture of then junior law clerk William H. Rehnquist's memo on the Brown case filed with his boss Justice Jackson. I want to post it in its entirety---the picture of it so you can see I'm not making it up---of Rehnquist's argument as to why Plessy should be upheld. You have to see it to believe it.
The last big thing here is the move over to Mu.nu and the Movable type format. I joked with Rob it's like stepping into the cockpit of a 747 after having a merry old time in a biplane. Saturday night, playing with the format, I promptly flew it right into the side of a hill. Once we get the formatting mess squared away we'll invite everyone over for the blogwarming party.
Oh and one last thing---it seems that there's a new Ben Affleck/David Hasselhoff movie in the works building off of all the success of the LOTR series. Guaranteed to give Rob heartburn. Stay tuned for more details.....
We're moving our offices at work so I have to go in and work on the packing, which will be hectic as the other folks will be there and I'm going to be pressed into service as a beast of burden. Waaa. So not much from me today, alas.
Big weekend--yesterday was fun as I finally did the graduation walk for my PhD over at UVa, albeit four years later. When I was supposed to do it something more important came up: being the Godfather for Robbo's second. It was an easy choice. I remember that weekend well--Robbo and I snuck out Saturday afternoon and saw "Gladiator" and then had a few beers. It was very cold and rainy, until time for the dinner bbq and then it was nice. The high point of the weekend---other than putting out hits on the heads of the five families---came in the little conference room at the church during the training/rehearsal. So I was sitting there and in walks this family and they are sitting across from us. The guy was looking very familiar but it took me a minute to place him. It was a small room, and there were only the two families there. Did the whole business section, we're getting up to leave, and at the door I put out my hand to the grandfather of the other family and with his wry smile we shook hands. I said, "It's good to be the Godfather" in my best Don Corleone voice, and Dick Cheney said, "Yes, it is."
Anyhoo, my darling wife Saturday night convinced me I should just go and do the walk down the lawn, and to be perfectly honest, I'm glad I did.
Big day today: 50th anniversary of Brown v. Board. I have three extended posts I want to put up later: the full text of the decision, to see how well the rhetoric and legal logic hold up; the alternative history of what could have happened if the Court had used the concurring decision that Robert Jackson had written but never published. I've always preferred Jackson's opinion because he grounds overturning Plessy's separate but equal doctrine in the dissent to that decision written by Justice John Marshall Harlan: segregation violates the core values of the fourteenth amendment, period. End of sentence. The third post is a jpeg of the picture of then junior law clerk William H. Rehnquist's memo on the Brown case filed with his boss Justice Jackson. I want to post it in its entirety---the picture of it so you can see I'm not making it up---of Rehnquist's argument as to why Plessy should be upheld. You have to see it to believe it.
The last big thing here is the move over to Mu.nu and the Movable type format. I joked with Rob it's like stepping into the cockpit of a 747 after having a merry old time in a biplane. Saturday night, playing with the format, I promptly flew it right into the side of a hill. Once we get the formatting mess squared away we'll invite everyone over for the blogwarming party.
Oh and one last thing---it seems that there's a new Ben Affleck/David Hasselhoff movie in the works building off of all the success of the LOTR series. Guaranteed to give Rob heartburn. Stay tuned for more details.....
Saturday, May 15, 2004
Take a bite out of pretentious stupidity
Lawren delivers the news that The Gwyneth delivered a baby girl....named Apple.
Somewhere in Rye there is a ten year old girl who, thirty years from now, is going to make a fortune as the head shrinker for angst-ridden Apple Paltrow.
Alas, somewhere in Vegas, a whores and black-jack addled Ben Affleck felt a shudder, while perusing the scripts for "CHiPs: The Movie" and "Knight Rider: Living Large!"
Or maybe for "Saved by the Bell: The Film School Years."
Lawren delivers the news that The Gwyneth delivered a baby girl....named Apple.
Somewhere in Rye there is a ten year old girl who, thirty years from now, is going to make a fortune as the head shrinker for angst-ridden Apple Paltrow.
Alas, somewhere in Vegas, a whores and black-jack addled Ben Affleck felt a shudder, while perusing the scripts for "CHiPs: The Movie" and "Knight Rider: Living Large!"
Or maybe for "Saved by the Bell: The Film School Years."
I can stop blogging any time I want, honest....
Protein Wisdom interviews Peter Fonda of Easy Rider fame on the whole prison scandals.
(The beauty of it is that I had read the link and was literally bent over in my chair laughing so hard I was having this coughing/hiccuping fit, and since it's reunion some old blue haired biddie and her husband just happened to be walking past my open door and thought I was having a stroke or something, I mean for chrissakes they had security over hear in 30 seconds flat and just try to explain to some campus police guy who is obviously not amused to have been rousted that he was called because of this post about Dennis Hopper on acid killing a pig and then having sex with it, and he was looking at me like I was clearly derranged and so I insisted he read it, which he did, laughed, but then gave me one of those "what the eff do you do all day?" looks, which I seem to be getting a lot of lately...... Damn that new medication!)
Protein Wisdom interviews Peter Fonda of Easy Rider fame on the whole prison scandals.
(The beauty of it is that I had read the link and was literally bent over in my chair laughing so hard I was having this coughing/hiccuping fit, and since it's reunion some old blue haired biddie and her husband just happened to be walking past my open door and thought I was having a stroke or something, I mean for chrissakes they had security over hear in 30 seconds flat and just try to explain to some campus police guy who is obviously not amused to have been rousted that he was called because of this post about Dennis Hopper on acid killing a pig and then having sex with it, and he was looking at me like I was clearly derranged and so I insisted he read it, which he did, laughed, but then gave me one of those "what the eff do you do all day?" looks, which I seem to be getting a lot of lately...... Damn that new medication!)
Robbo's going to like THIS one
All week long I've been a bit of a jackass, or, er, at least more than usual. I've been ribbing Robbo a bit about working in the garden all week, mulching, planting vegetables and flowers and such, basking in the joy of the first week after grades are handed in the students are gone.
Sooooo......here it is, probably the most spectacular Saturday so far this year, and I'm in my office, at school.
Insert Nelson Muntz "HA-ha!" here.
Why? I'm moving, that is my office is being moved to the building next door, which means in practical terms leaving my lovely office (which has 1/2 of a window and is smaller than many penalty boxes I spent time in in youth hockey). So I'm packing books, and I'm on box 13 so far and have hardly made a dent in things.
Special Bonus Nelson Muntz for me here.
Have a great one for me folks!
SPECIAL NOTE FOR ROBBO: These are for your own personal use....
HA-ha!
HA-ha!
HA-ha!
HA-ha!
HA-ha!
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HA-ha!
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HA-ha!
All week long I've been a bit of a jackass, or, er, at least more than usual. I've been ribbing Robbo a bit about working in the garden all week, mulching, planting vegetables and flowers and such, basking in the joy of the first week after grades are handed in the students are gone.
Sooooo......here it is, probably the most spectacular Saturday so far this year, and I'm in my office, at school.
Insert Nelson Muntz "HA-ha!" here.
Why? I'm moving, that is my office is being moved to the building next door, which means in practical terms leaving my lovely office (which has 1/2 of a window and is smaller than many penalty boxes I spent time in in youth hockey). So I'm packing books, and I'm on box 13 so far and have hardly made a dent in things.
Special Bonus Nelson Muntz for me here.
Have a great one for me folks!
SPECIAL NOTE FOR ROBBO: These are for your own personal use....
HA-ha!
HA-ha!
HA-ha!
HA-ha!
HA-ha!
HA-ha!
HA-ha!
HA-ha!
HA-ha!
HA-ha!
HA-ha!
HA-ha!
HA-ha!
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HA-ha!
Gratuitous Domestic Blogging (TM) - Outdoor Division
I must say that even if my garden is covered in locusts and kudzu by tomorrow morning, I still will have considered this a successful year because, if nothing else, my peonies are opening. And they're terrific.
One variety that I have is called a Gold Standard (Rosenfield 34). The flower is about six inches across and consists of rounded, creamy white guard petals and a big, golden center of staminodes. Marvelous.
The other one opening right now is a Henry Bockstoce (Bockstoce 55). It is a hybrid with a heavy, double, dark red flower. I have two or three other varieties that should be opening over the next few weeks. All of them look promising as well.
(incidentally, if you're in the Northern Virginia area, I highly recommend Nicholls Gardens, where I picked up these plants last fall. In addition to a big variety of peonies, they also sell iris, daylillies, hostas and various other perennials. The place seems to be run by a bunch of hippies, but they know their stuff.)
Meanwhile, both of my Improved Blaze climbing roses are starting to bloom. (Oddly, only one of them seems inclined to actually climb. The other one remains stolidly bush-like.) Also, I have a pair of clematis - a Jack-Manyeye and an Ernest Markham - that are about ready to let fly.
Finally, my second installment of Joe-Pye weed arrived from Wayside Gardens yesterday. My mother is puzzled as to why I would want to plant weeds. I point out that if you deliberately plant something it is, by definition, not a weed. I also note that Joe-Pye is native, very drought tolerant and a good producer of cut flowers.
Very satisfying, indeed. Some day, I might even go so far as to purchase a digital camera. Then I can simply show you these little episodes of personal gratification rather than blather on about them.
I must say that even if my garden is covered in locusts and kudzu by tomorrow morning, I still will have considered this a successful year because, if nothing else, my peonies are opening. And they're terrific.
One variety that I have is called a Gold Standard (Rosenfield 34). The flower is about six inches across and consists of rounded, creamy white guard petals and a big, golden center of staminodes. Marvelous.
The other one opening right now is a Henry Bockstoce (Bockstoce 55). It is a hybrid with a heavy, double, dark red flower. I have two or three other varieties that should be opening over the next few weeks. All of them look promising as well.
(incidentally, if you're in the Northern Virginia area, I highly recommend Nicholls Gardens, where I picked up these plants last fall. In addition to a big variety of peonies, they also sell iris, daylillies, hostas and various other perennials. The place seems to be run by a bunch of hippies, but they know their stuff.)
Meanwhile, both of my Improved Blaze climbing roses are starting to bloom. (Oddly, only one of them seems inclined to actually climb. The other one remains stolidly bush-like.) Also, I have a pair of clematis - a Jack-Manyeye and an Ernest Markham - that are about ready to let fly.
Finally, my second installment of Joe-Pye weed arrived from Wayside Gardens yesterday. My mother is puzzled as to why I would want to plant weeds. I point out that if you deliberately plant something it is, by definition, not a weed. I also note that Joe-Pye is native, very drought tolerant and a good producer of cut flowers.
Very satisfying, indeed. Some day, I might even go so far as to purchase a digital camera. Then I can simply show you these little episodes of personal gratification rather than blather on about them.
Gratuitous Domestic Blogging (TM)
The Butcher's Family spent a pleasant morning at some species of McLean town celebration. I'm rather vague as to what exactly it was due to a medical condition brought on by years of marriage and children: Whenever the Butcher's Wife begins a sentence with "Darling, today we're taking the kids and going to....," some internal circuit breaker trips, making the rest of the sentence turn to static in my ears. In the end, it's easier this way.
Anyhow, the main event of this fete was a charity walk round the park, the proceeds of which will go to help some children's fund or other. The weather this fine May morning is more like what one would expect in July around here. (If we don't have one hell of a thunderstorm in the next 24 hours, I'll be extremely surprised.) So you can imagine what it was like trying to herd three small, hot and candy-sticky little girls around, especially as we were surrounded by other folks engaged in the same endeavor. Migrating wildebeest ain't in it.
I am not the most patient person in the world. When I get hot and flustered, I tend to retreat into tight-lipped sarcasm. The interesting thing about this condition is that as crabby as I am at the time, I also derive a kind of grim pleasure from it. Allow me to illustrate:
As we shuffled along the path today, we had to cross several footbridges over a small stream that wanders through the park. The two-year old showed a distinct propensity to dawdle on each crossing, leaning way out over the edge to look into the water. At the second incident, I casually remarked to her that if she didn't hurry, the troll that lived under the bridge would catch her and eat her. Of course, this went whizzing right over the child's head. However, it provoked something pretty close to panic in the five year old boy coming up behind. For the next hundred yards I could hear his mother explaining that trolls were only in stories. Score one for Llama snarkiness.
The other highlight of the walk came as my four year old started to drag, shuffling her feet, shying side to side and generally stacking up the walkers behind us. Getting fed up, and ever ready with the bon mot, I pointed out (perhaps a bit too loudly) that if we had been on the Bataan Death March, the Japs would have shot her by now. One nearby father broke out in a wide grin, thereby instantly earning my esteem. But I could hear some gasping behind me as several young matrons tried to decide a) what the hell I was talking about and b) whether the Insensitivity Police should be summoned.
Heh. As Slipper remarks in one of the Irish R.M. stories of Somerville and Ross, "Oh, divil so pleasant a [morning] ever you seen!"
The Butcher's Family spent a pleasant morning at some species of McLean town celebration. I'm rather vague as to what exactly it was due to a medical condition brought on by years of marriage and children: Whenever the Butcher's Wife begins a sentence with "Darling, today we're taking the kids and going to....," some internal circuit breaker trips, making the rest of the sentence turn to static in my ears. In the end, it's easier this way.
Anyhow, the main event of this fete was a charity walk round the park, the proceeds of which will go to help some children's fund or other. The weather this fine May morning is more like what one would expect in July around here. (If we don't have one hell of a thunderstorm in the next 24 hours, I'll be extremely surprised.) So you can imagine what it was like trying to herd three small, hot and candy-sticky little girls around, especially as we were surrounded by other folks engaged in the same endeavor. Migrating wildebeest ain't in it.
I am not the most patient person in the world. When I get hot and flustered, I tend to retreat into tight-lipped sarcasm. The interesting thing about this condition is that as crabby as I am at the time, I also derive a kind of grim pleasure from it. Allow me to illustrate:
As we shuffled along the path today, we had to cross several footbridges over a small stream that wanders through the park. The two-year old showed a distinct propensity to dawdle on each crossing, leaning way out over the edge to look into the water. At the second incident, I casually remarked to her that if she didn't hurry, the troll that lived under the bridge would catch her and eat her. Of course, this went whizzing right over the child's head. However, it provoked something pretty close to panic in the five year old boy coming up behind. For the next hundred yards I could hear his mother explaining that trolls were only in stories. Score one for Llama snarkiness.
The other highlight of the walk came as my four year old started to drag, shuffling her feet, shying side to side and generally stacking up the walkers behind us. Getting fed up, and ever ready with the bon mot, I pointed out (perhaps a bit too loudly) that if we had been on the Bataan Death March, the Japs would have shot her by now. One nearby father broke out in a wide grin, thereby instantly earning my esteem. But I could hear some gasping behind me as several young matrons tried to decide a) what the hell I was talking about and b) whether the Insensitivity Police should be summoned.
Heh. As Slipper remarks in one of the Irish R.M. stories of Somerville and Ross, "Oh, divil so pleasant a [morning] ever you seen!"
10K!
Some time this morning, the Llama Butchers picked up our 10,000th hit. Not too shabby for less than six months, if we may say so ourselves. Steve-O and I have been discussing the dynamics of our traffic flow recently and are very encouraged by the general indicators. Thank you once again to everyone who has wandered into the shop, especially our little band of regulars.
(Don't forget - we're currently working on our new digs and hope to be open for business there very soon. We'll keep you posted.)
Normally with the achievement of such a milestone as this, we would award the reader hitting the mark with a full day's supply of Rice-a-Roni, the San Francisco treat. However, a quick check of sitemeter reveals the fact that our 10,000th visitor was, in fact, my Dad. Unfortunately, employees of Llama Butcher Industries and their families are ineligible for receiving prizes, awards or other promotions. Dems da breaks.
Meanwhile, thanks and big Llama Yips to all! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip!
Some time this morning, the Llama Butchers picked up our 10,000th hit. Not too shabby for less than six months, if we may say so ourselves. Steve-O and I have been discussing the dynamics of our traffic flow recently and are very encouraged by the general indicators. Thank you once again to everyone who has wandered into the shop, especially our little band of regulars.
(Don't forget - we're currently working on our new digs and hope to be open for business there very soon. We'll keep you posted.)
Normally with the achievement of such a milestone as this, we would award the reader hitting the mark with a full day's supply of Rice-a-Roni, the San Francisco treat. However, a quick check of sitemeter reveals the fact that our 10,000th visitor was, in fact, my Dad. Unfortunately, employees of Llama Butcher Industries and their families are ineligible for receiving prizes, awards or other promotions. Dems da breaks.
Meanwhile, thanks and big Llama Yips to all! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip!
Friday, May 14, 2004
Now THAT'S Despicable
Someone found us from google looking for "llama+Troy"
Don't worry, I'll Pshop it later---what it would have looked like if Odysseus were really extra crafty and had constructed a wooden llama.
Someone found us from google looking for "llama+Troy"
Don't worry, I'll Pshop it later---what it would have looked like if Odysseus were really extra crafty and had constructed a wooden llama.
Good God Almighty
You know that I try to maintain a certain amount of decorum around here. In this case, I'm going to need to make an exception. Because I believe the people who put together America's Dumbest Soldiers, a site apparently devoted to making fun of military personnel killed on active duty, are the sickest bunch of motherfucking bastards I have ever come across in my life.
This isn't the sort of thing about which you can simply roll your eyes and mumble something about free expression and tolerance. This is waaaaay over that line. Want to start a meme? Spread the word about this site. What do you say we let these pigs know exactly what we think of them?
HT to Jen, who picked it up from Citizen Smash.
You know that I try to maintain a certain amount of decorum around here. In this case, I'm going to need to make an exception. Because I believe the people who put together America's Dumbest Soldiers, a site apparently devoted to making fun of military personnel killed on active duty, are the sickest bunch of motherfucking bastards I have ever come across in my life.
This isn't the sort of thing about which you can simply roll your eyes and mumble something about free expression and tolerance. This is waaaaay over that line. Want to start a meme? Spread the word about this site. What do you say we let these pigs know exactly what we think of them?
HT to Jen, who picked it up from Citizen Smash.
Je Accuse!
Emily over at It Comes in Pints? links to Roger Ebert's panning of the new movie Troy over its mangling of The Iliad. She asks: is it acceptable for screenwriters and directors to take liberties with original works of fiction when translating them to film or is this too objectionable? Why?
Meanwhile, Tainted Bill links to Jonathan Foreman's equally bad review and dwells on the same question.
Fair enough. BUT. This is the same Bill who not two posts away is drooling over the DVD release of The Return of the King! And in his comments, Emily is doing the same thing!
Bah! To me, Petersen's mangling of Homer is no worse than Jackson's mangling of Tolkien. And you know what I think of that!
YIPS from Steve: Deep breaths...deep breaths.....quiet happy place....quiet happy place.....IT WAS ONLY AN EFFING MOVIE! IT WAS CUTE SEE CUZ THE HOBBITS WERE LITTLE BUT THEIR FEET WERE FUZZY AND STUFF! IT WAS ONLY AN EFFING MOVIE!....quiet happy place....
UPDATE: When we get things set up at the New Digs, I must remember to include a post catagory of "Tolkien Crankiness."
Emily over at It Comes in Pints? links to Roger Ebert's panning of the new movie Troy over its mangling of The Iliad. She asks: is it acceptable for screenwriters and directors to take liberties with original works of fiction when translating them to film or is this too objectionable? Why?
Meanwhile, Tainted Bill links to Jonathan Foreman's equally bad review and dwells on the same question.
Fair enough. BUT. This is the same Bill who not two posts away is drooling over the DVD release of The Return of the King! And in his comments, Emily is doing the same thing!
Bah! To me, Petersen's mangling of Homer is no worse than Jackson's mangling of Tolkien. And you know what I think of that!
YIPS from Steve: Deep breaths...deep breaths.....quiet happy place....quiet happy place.....IT WAS ONLY AN EFFING MOVIE! IT WAS CUTE SEE CUZ THE HOBBITS WERE LITTLE BUT THEIR FEET WERE FUZZY AND STUFF! IT WAS ONLY AN EFFING MOVIE!....quiet happy place....
UPDATE: When we get things set up at the New Digs, I must remember to include a post catagory of "Tolkien Crankiness."
Busted!
Honorary Copperhead Fedayeen member Piers Morgan of the London's Daily Mirror resigns after it was determined that published photos of British soldiers abusing Iraqi detainees were fakes.
Can I get a Nelson Muntz? HA-ha!
YIPS from Steve: You mean like this? HA-ha!
Honorary Copperhead Fedayeen member Piers Morgan of the London's Daily Mirror resigns after it was determined that published photos of British soldiers abusing Iraqi detainees were fakes.
Can I get a Nelson Muntz? HA-ha!
YIPS from Steve: You mean like this? HA-ha!
NEXT!
I hope Syria's Assad notices that funny little red dot of light that just appeared on his forehead.
Thank goodness that at least one person in this country continues to remember that the War on Terror is a global endeavor and that preoccupation with set-backs in one theatre cannot be allowed to interfere with our pursuit of the bad guys in another. And thank goodness - thank goodness - that person happens to be the President.
HT to James Joyner.
I hope Syria's Assad notices that funny little red dot of light that just appeared on his forehead.
Thank goodness that at least one person in this country continues to remember that the War on Terror is a global endeavor and that preoccupation with set-backs in one theatre cannot be allowed to interfere with our pursuit of the bad guys in another. And thank goodness - thank goodness - that person happens to be the President.
HT to James Joyner.
Heh
Jeff Goldstein's Top Ten Lynndie England Excuses and/or Dinosaurs.
(Shamelessly stolen from Willow.)
Jeff Goldstein's Top Ten Lynndie England Excuses and/or Dinosaurs.
(Shamelessly stolen from Willow.)
People With Waaaaaay Too Much Time On Their Hands. Oh, And Cats. Lots of Cats.
Have a look at the Infinite Cat Project. It's a sort of chain of cats looking at each other on computer screens - A looking at B looking at C, and so on - captured in one convenient cat-choked site.
I am not fond of cats.
We actually have two of them. One is Jenny, named after T.S. Eliot's Gumby Cat. My sister calls her "Jennyanybody" because she is an attention 'ho. She so loves to be pet that she will even put up with the attentions of my two-year-old, whose less-than-gentle manner resembles that of the Lenny-like Abominable Snow Monster from the old Bugs and Daffy cartoon. ("And I will love her and hold her and squeeze her and pet her....") Jenny is a real pest in this regard. I won't go into details, but suffice to say that there are appropriate times for demanding attention and there are inappropriate times and Jenny does not know the difference between them.
The other one is Jeeves. This cat is a basket-case of neuroses, which we've never understood because he has always had a comfy life. For one thing, he hates the kids and tends to nip them if they get too close. (This has spawned a corresponding fear of him in the older kids, but that is a different story.) Second, it has taken him nearly ten years to warm up to the Butcher's Wife in spite of the fact that his acquisition was her idea to begin with. Third, and most annoying, he is devoted to me, despite everything I can think of to make him proffer his love elsewhere. I suppose there is something amusing about a cat dogging someone's footsteps, but I have ceased to smile about it. I will spare you the song and dance we have to go through concerning his dining routine, for example.
Jeeves' signature act is to wait until everyone has gone to bed and then start pacing the house, moaning like a lost spirit. He goes around and finds soft, portable objects such as stray socks and kids' puppets and brings them to the foot of the stairs as presents. In the morning, I will find as many as a dozen of these corpora, with Jeeves lurking in the background awaiting, I dunno, praise and affection. My general response is to hurl the things at him, but he doesn't seem to get the hint.
Well, anyway. If you like cats, I'm sure you'll like the site. If, like me, you don't, may I suggest going here instead. Now that's a pet!
Have a look at the Infinite Cat Project. It's a sort of chain of cats looking at each other on computer screens - A looking at B looking at C, and so on - captured in one convenient cat-choked site.
I am not fond of cats.
We actually have two of them. One is Jenny, named after T.S. Eliot's Gumby Cat. My sister calls her "Jennyanybody" because she is an attention 'ho. She so loves to be pet that she will even put up with the attentions of my two-year-old, whose less-than-gentle manner resembles that of the Lenny-like Abominable Snow Monster from the old Bugs and Daffy cartoon. ("And I will love her and hold her and squeeze her and pet her....") Jenny is a real pest in this regard. I won't go into details, but suffice to say that there are appropriate times for demanding attention and there are inappropriate times and Jenny does not know the difference between them.
The other one is Jeeves. This cat is a basket-case of neuroses, which we've never understood because he has always had a comfy life. For one thing, he hates the kids and tends to nip them if they get too close. (This has spawned a corresponding fear of him in the older kids, but that is a different story.) Second, it has taken him nearly ten years to warm up to the Butcher's Wife in spite of the fact that his acquisition was her idea to begin with. Third, and most annoying, he is devoted to me, despite everything I can think of to make him proffer his love elsewhere. I suppose there is something amusing about a cat dogging someone's footsteps, but I have ceased to smile about it. I will spare you the song and dance we have to go through concerning his dining routine, for example.
Jeeves' signature act is to wait until everyone has gone to bed and then start pacing the house, moaning like a lost spirit. He goes around and finds soft, portable objects such as stray socks and kids' puppets and brings them to the foot of the stairs as presents. In the morning, I will find as many as a dozen of these corpora, with Jeeves lurking in the background awaiting, I dunno, praise and affection. My general response is to hurl the things at him, but he doesn't seem to get the hint.
Well, anyway. If you like cats, I'm sure you'll like the site. If, like me, you don't, may I suggest going here instead. Now that's a pet!
Jerk Alert!
For 3 people who came to us via the google search "berg + video + roman + gladiator" I can only say:
There's three of you? WTF?
For 3 people who came to us via the google search "berg + video + roman + gladiator" I can only say:
There's three of you? WTF?
More on exposing the evil that is Frank J.
See here for more proof of Frank J.'s perfidy: his secret love of Charles de Gaulle; his learning of the dangerous truth that Jacques Chirac, President of France and Dark Lord of the Sith, is in fact his father; and Frank J. stylin' with his posse on his way to a weekend retreat at Kofi Anan's secret Hamptons resort.
See here for more proof of Frank J.'s perfidy: his secret love of Charles de Gaulle; his learning of the dangerous truth that Jacques Chirac, President of France and Dark Lord of the Sith, is in fact his father; and Frank J. stylin' with his posse on his way to a weekend retreat at Kofi Anan's secret Hamptons resort.
The Wisdom of Holy Joe
The esteemed senator from Connecticut has a nice piece in the Journal today about Abu Ghraib and the greater war in general. Bottom line: Punish the thugs who did it and those who should have kept them under control, forget about going for Rumsfeld's scalp, stay the course and win the war because it is and always was the right thing to do.
I must say that I've always thought Lieberman was a pretty good guy. I was more saddened than anything else to see the contortions he had to put himself through in pursuit of his VP run in 2000, as he tried to fit the party line. After it was all over, it was good to see him come back from the Dark Side and resume his former, sensible character.
Unfortunately, I don't believe many folks in his own party are listening too carefully to him these days. Pity.
The esteemed senator from Connecticut has a nice piece in the Journal today about Abu Ghraib and the greater war in general. Bottom line: Punish the thugs who did it and those who should have kept them under control, forget about going for Rumsfeld's scalp, stay the course and win the war because it is and always was the right thing to do.
I must say that I've always thought Lieberman was a pretty good guy. I was more saddened than anything else to see the contortions he had to put himself through in pursuit of his VP run in 2000, as he tried to fit the party line. After it was all over, it was good to see him come back from the Dark Side and resume his former, sensible character.
Unfortunately, I don't believe many folks in his own party are listening too carefully to him these days. Pity.
Frasier Has Left The Building
Eh. For what it's worth, I watched the finale last night. The whole ruined wedding gag suffered from that particular hammer-handedness that occasionally overcame the writers on Frasier, while Daphne's three brothers bore a suspicious resemblance to Larry, his brother Daryll and his other brother Daryll from the old Newhart series, right down to Robbie Coltrane's mumbling. Also, the sudden revelation at the end that Frasier was going to Chicago to pursue his True Love, instead of to San Francisco, induced violent gagging reflexes from yours truly.
Frankly, I thought the highlight show that came on first was far funnier. Perhaps they just should have ended with that.
Eh. For what it's worth, I watched the finale last night. The whole ruined wedding gag suffered from that particular hammer-handedness that occasionally overcame the writers on Frasier, while Daphne's three brothers bore a suspicious resemblance to Larry, his brother Daryll and his other brother Daryll from the old Newhart series, right down to Robbie Coltrane's mumbling. Also, the sudden revelation at the end that Frasier was going to Chicago to pursue his True Love, instead of to San Francisco, induced violent gagging reflexes from yours truly.
Frankly, I thought the highlight show that came on first was far funnier. Perhaps they just should have ended with that.
Freedom From Fear
To answer the Commissar's frets from earlier in the week about whether we could win the war now at all, or Michele's genuine worries about internal strife at home, I came up with partial postings in my mind trying to incorporate Lincoln and Psalms. It was long, and I still might use it, but sometimes a picture is more effective:
With apologies to Norman Rockwell.
Folks, these are dark times, but we've been through darker. Like the Revolution, the cold war with France, the Civil War, Reconstruction, the Depression, and World War II and III (aka the Cold War). As much as the baby-boomers would like to think this is the worst of times, it isn't. We will win. Trust me on that.
To answer the Commissar's frets from earlier in the week about whether we could win the war now at all, or Michele's genuine worries about internal strife at home, I came up with partial postings in my mind trying to incorporate Lincoln and Psalms. It was long, and I still might use it, but sometimes a picture is more effective:
With apologies to Norman Rockwell.
Folks, these are dark times, but we've been through darker. Like the Revolution, the cold war with France, the Civil War, Reconstruction, the Depression, and World War II and III (aka the Cold War). As much as the baby-boomers would like to think this is the worst of times, it isn't. We will win. Trust me on that.
More racism from the Arab News
The Arab News puts out some hard-hitting journalism. What with a week in which the American cul-de-sac is in open riot over the vicious cold-blooded decapitation of a bound, civilian American Jew by a man screaming "Allah is Great!" they are obviously concerned about rehabilitating the image of Muslims and Arabs in the world, to show us that Saudis at least get it.
Yeah, right.
So what does the english language newspaper of the nation the copperhead weasels like Katie Couric want to win the War on Terror do a story on instead:
Women Are To Blame.
WAIT! DON'T ORDER NOW! BONUS SPECIAL XENOPHOBIC RACISM FROM THE ARAB NEWS!
A warning to Those Who Love Americans.
You know, it's funny because James Zogby is a regular contributor to the Arab News. And what would the reaction of CAIR be if say the Washington Times or the New York Post wrote a similar warning, something like "Those who love Arabs" or "Those who love Muslims" in effect warning of lynchings and violence as the article in Arab News clearly does? He would go ballistic, screaming racism etc. But the funny thing is, no similar condemnation from Zogby about racism and threats of racial and religious violence in the paper he writes for. Either he thinks A) we're stupid or B.) Arabs aren't capable of making advanced moral or ethical decisions and therefore shouldn't be held to the same level of scrutiny as an American. Both aren't true: we're not dumb, and part of that whole "all men are created equal" thing means that we hold others to the same standards as we hold ourselves. To hold others to a lesser standard of moral action is offensive.
So which is it James: are you just an elitist pig, or are you a racist one to boot? Show us neither is true and condemn the Arab News for this piece---to do otherwise shows what you are really made of.
BONUS LINKAGE! WHAT DOES AL-JAZEERA HAVE IN COMMON WITH ABC?
Here's a funny article from the Arab News about how the Arab media covered the Nick Berg beheading. It's so priceless, it's worth putting in toto:
So the problem with the beheading while yelling "Allah is Great!" is not that it sends perhaps the wrong message, but that it detracts from the idea of America being the Great Satan. Ohh. Kay.
And now as they say the money quote:
I was wondering what the "A" in ABC stood for. Now we know.....
Oh, okay, beheading an innocent person-of-the-book for spectacle is a technical violation of Islam--I was beginning to wonder about that. But what the real violation is is handing a PR victory to the Americans. I guess its what we Catholics used to call the difference between a venial and mortal sin. With the mortal sin, of course, being making the Americans look good.
Now I ask you to think about this: if Hamas, or Hezzbollah, or AQ had the capability, do you doubt for a second that they would take their "Bombs and Beheading For Allah" campaign to America if they could? What better way to let the world know that their god is, like, #1, by say setting off a vest bomb, oh, I don't know, live on the Today show when they do their stupid little crowd thing?
These jackasses have about as much to do with Islam that Pope Urban II did with Christianity when he proclaimed "Deus Volt!" The problem is, Urban did that one thousand years ago, whereas AQ's Islamic snuff film has a more recent vintage, like Tuesday. We don't have a thousand years to wait around for some folks to absorb that concept. Christianity's Reformation took fifteen hundred years to come about and four centuries to shake out. By that timetable we've got another two centuries to wait, and a total of six before it really begins to sink in. Let's hope there is a shorter learning curve for Islam then there was for Christianity on the separation of religion and state and the acceptance of the concept of tolerance for others.
The Arab News puts out some hard-hitting journalism. What with a week in which the American cul-de-sac is in open riot over the vicious cold-blooded decapitation of a bound, civilian American Jew by a man screaming "Allah is Great!" they are obviously concerned about rehabilitating the image of Muslims and Arabs in the world, to show us that Saudis at least get it.
Yeah, right.
So what does the english language newspaper of the nation the copperhead weasels like Katie Couric want to win the War on Terror do a story on instead:
Women Are To Blame.
WAIT! DON'T ORDER NOW! BONUS SPECIAL XENOPHOBIC RACISM FROM THE ARAB NEWS!
A warning to Those Who Love Americans.
You know, it's funny because James Zogby is a regular contributor to the Arab News. And what would the reaction of CAIR be if say the Washington Times or the New York Post wrote a similar warning, something like "Those who love Arabs" or "Those who love Muslims" in effect warning of lynchings and violence as the article in Arab News clearly does? He would go ballistic, screaming racism etc. But the funny thing is, no similar condemnation from Zogby about racism and threats of racial and religious violence in the paper he writes for. Either he thinks A) we're stupid or B.) Arabs aren't capable of making advanced moral or ethical decisions and therefore shouldn't be held to the same level of scrutiny as an American. Both aren't true: we're not dumb, and part of that whole "all men are created equal" thing means that we hold others to the same standards as we hold ourselves. To hold others to a lesser standard of moral action is offensive.
So which is it James: are you just an elitist pig, or are you a racist one to boot? Show us neither is true and condemn the Arab News for this piece---to do otherwise shows what you are really made of.
BONUS LINKAGE! WHAT DOES AL-JAZEERA HAVE IN COMMON WITH ABC?
Here's a funny article from the Arab News about how the Arab media covered the Nick Berg beheading. It's so priceless, it's worth putting in toto:
Arab Media Accuse US of Exploiting Berg Murder
Ranwa Yehia, Deutsche Presse-Agentur
CAIRO, 14May 2004 — The Arab world has denounced the on-camera beheading of an American civilian, in part because the murder allowed the United States to deflect public attention from its abuse of Iraqi prisoners.
“Whose payroll are these murderers acting upon?” the Egyptian daily Al-Akhbar charged yesterday in the caption beneath a photograph taken from video footage showing telecommunications technicians Nick Berg sitting in front of his kidnappers moments before his death.
The tape “resulted in a sharp change in public opinion with American officials rushing to take advantage of the incident to reduce pressures on the US administration from the scandal of prisoners’ abuse,” Al-Akhbar said.
Echoing this view the United Arab Emirates Gulf News condemned the killing yesterday: “There is never any justification for taking life in this cold-hearted way. No political purpose will be served and indeed a lot of damage will be done, especially in Iraq.” “Indeed the act totally alienated the executioners from the Iraqi people,” the English-language daily continued, but went on to note the “atrocity took the spotlight away from those who are suffering in detention.”
Amongst Arabic-language papers, the Lebanese An-Nahar daily pinpointed the ugly irony with which it felt the White House was benefiting from the killing. Columnist Rajeh Khoury said: “What could be uglier than Nick’s death is a feeling among some groups in the US that what happened within Iraqi prisons can be accepted or justified. It is extremely strange that some US statements had embedded messages that the video of beheading the hostage could lead to reduced sentences to the torture crimes in Abu Ghraib.”
Wissam Saadeh — columnist with As-Safir, another leading Arabic- language daily in the country — said the murder reflected the “deterioration of the conflict to a level full of ugliness and barbarism.”
So the problem with the beheading while yelling "Allah is Great!" is not that it sends perhaps the wrong message, but that it detracts from the idea of America being the Great Satan. Ohh. Kay.
And now as they say the money quote:
Many Arab media also downplayed the Berg’s murder. While pictures of Berg appeared on inside pages of most Arab newspapers, the editorials continued to focus on the prisoner abuse scandal in Iraq.
I was wondering what the "A" in ABC stood for. Now we know.....
Editorials that did comment on the killing strongly condemned it, but those were mainly found in the English language newspapers across the region.
However, Islamic organizations in Lebanon and Egypt also denounced the murder as a violation of Islam.
The Hezbollah movement said late Wednesday the killing defamed Muslims, but went on to point out: “The timing of this incident is aimed at benefiting the interests of the US administration. It will give them (Americans) more excuses to carry out uglier actions against the Iraqi prisoners.”
A spokesman for the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood movement told Deutsche Presse-Agentur that the killing was “a barbaric act not endorsed by Islam or any other religion.” Issam Al-Aryan said: “The Muslim Brotherhood condemns this crime and considers that it harms the worldwide campaign against the torture crimes in Iraqi prisons.”
Oh, okay, beheading an innocent person-of-the-book for spectacle is a technical violation of Islam--I was beginning to wonder about that. But what the real violation is is handing a PR victory to the Americans. I guess its what we Catholics used to call the difference between a venial and mortal sin. With the mortal sin, of course, being making the Americans look good.
Now I ask you to think about this: if Hamas, or Hezzbollah, or AQ had the capability, do you doubt for a second that they would take their "Bombs and Beheading For Allah" campaign to America if they could? What better way to let the world know that their god is, like, #1, by say setting off a vest bomb, oh, I don't know, live on the Today show when they do their stupid little crowd thing?
These jackasses have about as much to do with Islam that Pope Urban II did with Christianity when he proclaimed "Deus Volt!" The problem is, Urban did that one thousand years ago, whereas AQ's Islamic snuff film has a more recent vintage, like Tuesday. We don't have a thousand years to wait around for some folks to absorb that concept. Christianity's Reformation took fifteen hundred years to come about and four centuries to shake out. By that timetable we've got another two centuries to wait, and a total of six before it really begins to sink in. Let's hope there is a shorter learning curve for Islam then there was for Christianity on the separation of religion and state and the acceptance of the concept of tolerance for others.
Friday at the Llamabutchers: All Grok, all the time!
It's a wall-to-wall Grok link-fest here this morning: Sarah at Trying to Grok serves up a good heap of musings re the Nick Berg beheading, focusing in on the nitwits who want to excuse and explain it all away, plus she has her "what makes you a geek?" list up as well! Good stuff all around, not to mention the pics that Osama fears the most: a smiling and obviously smart American woman sitting in the turret of a tank.
(Or, I think it's a tank---if I'm wrong, please let me know).
Oh, and by the way, what the heck is a grok anyway?
It's a wall-to-wall Grok link-fest here this morning: Sarah at Trying to Grok serves up a good heap of musings re the Nick Berg beheading, focusing in on the nitwits who want to excuse and explain it all away, plus she has her "what makes you a geek?" list up as well! Good stuff all around, not to mention the pics that Osama fears the most: a smiling and obviously smart American woman sitting in the turret of a tank.
(Or, I think it's a tank---if I'm wrong, please let me know).
Oh, and by the way, what the heck is a grok anyway?
Son, that's why they call it Texas BEST Grok!
John over at TBG has got your Friday Trek fix (sorry Willow, but we're geeks!), including one interesting note that if you thought you had seen Aunt Bea and Gomer in the background of one episode, you shouldn't blame it on your mid-morning brewski.
John over at TBG has got your Friday Trek fix (sorry Willow, but we're geeks!), including one interesting note that if you thought you had seen Aunt Bea and Gomer in the background of one episode, you shouldn't blame it on your mid-morning brewski.
Tune That Name!
What happens when the forces of bad taste, cultural nihilism and parental neurosis collide? The Perfect Storm of modern baby naming. Read this piece and tell me that the world has not gone completely insane.
I'm delighted to say that each one of the Llama-ettes bears a solid, conservative, no-nonsense name. (Hint: they're all names shared in common with English Monarchs or their consorts. No, not Victoria. And no, not Matilda. And no, not Albert.) So, Ha! You got that? Ha! Ha!
(And as an extra helping of crankiness, may I point out to the editors at Psychology Today that "most unique" is an idiotic expression. One can't be most unique any more than one can be most pregnant. Hmph!)
HT to Reen.
What happens when the forces of bad taste, cultural nihilism and parental neurosis collide? The Perfect Storm of modern baby naming. Read this piece and tell me that the world has not gone completely insane.
I'm delighted to say that each one of the Llama-ettes bears a solid, conservative, no-nonsense name. (Hint: they're all names shared in common with English Monarchs or their consorts. No, not Victoria. And no, not Matilda. And no, not Albert.) So, Ha! You got that? Ha! Ha!
(And as an extra helping of crankiness, may I point out to the editors at Psychology Today that "most unique" is an idiotic expression. One can't be most unique any more than one can be most pregnant. Hmph!)
HT to Reen.
Your Morning Coffee-Through-The-Nose Break
If you aren't reading the Hatemonger's Quarterly every day, you had better start.
I try to restrain myself from linking every single piece that the Crack Young Staff serves up. But since it's Friday and since my delighted hoots of laughter sent coffee flying over the back of my computer monitor today, I heartily recommend that you peruse today's excursion into the world of pseudo-academic silliness.
If my own experience related above is not enough, let me warn you that the No Hot Beverages Rule should be observed.
OFFICIAL ENDORSEMENT FROM STEVE THE LLAMABUTCHER: They didn't ask for one, but I thought up one anyway:
"What can you say about HMQ? It's like the New Republic at its best, but with the staff all out huffing glue. And funnier."
or
"HMQ: Funnier than Andrew Sullivan loose in Vegas with a pound of coke, a suitcase full of Euros, and a howler monkey."
BONUS EXTRA ENDORSEMENT!
For Geek Empire:
"Death to the Republic of Dork! All hail the Geek Empire!"
If you aren't reading the Hatemonger's Quarterly every day, you had better start.
I try to restrain myself from linking every single piece that the Crack Young Staff serves up. But since it's Friday and since my delighted hoots of laughter sent coffee flying over the back of my computer monitor today, I heartily recommend that you peruse today's excursion into the world of pseudo-academic silliness.
If my own experience related above is not enough, let me warn you that the No Hot Beverages Rule should be observed.
OFFICIAL ENDORSEMENT FROM STEVE THE LLAMABUTCHER: They didn't ask for one, but I thought up one anyway:
"What can you say about HMQ? It's like the New Republic at its best, but with the staff all out huffing glue. And funnier."
or
"HMQ: Funnier than Andrew Sullivan loose in Vegas with a pound of coke, a suitcase full of Euros, and a howler monkey."
BONUS EXTRA ENDORSEMENT!
For Geek Empire:
"Death to the Republic of Dork! All hail the Geek Empire!"
In America's war on moonbats, the people are protected by two separate by important bodies: the Llamabutchers who invesitgate moonbats, and INDC Bill who scientifically tags them These are their stories.
I'm going to be out of town next week and so will miss the last episode of the season of Law & Order:Classic, but following up on Robbo's meme from the end of Friends and then Frasier, I'm going to ask the same question:
Lenny, Phil, or Max?
Jerry Orbach had a great run on L&O, capping off a heck of a career on TV, Broadway, and Hollywood. I mean, who can ever watch him and not think of his important role in that timeless coming of age love story dancing classic Beauty & the Beast? I mean, the way he made Luminere, the dancing candlestick swoon.......oh yeah, and something with that Swayze fellow too. (Come to think of it, now that we are trying to cast the worst. Darcy. possible. what about Patrick Swayze? It's not like he's doing anything these days....)
Seriously, his Lenny character on L&O was fabulous in the way that it and the show matured nicely over the years. I've wanted to do an article about this, looking at the ideological drift of the show to the right over the years. The method would be to do a content sample from each season (say about 6 episodes) and count the number of statements and their presentation that approach the legal issues of the criminal law from a liberal and conservative position. I think the drift there has been profound.
Quick Friday morning parlor game: there have been 21 regulars on the show over the years: 3 senior detectives, 3 junior detectives, 2 senior officers (one a captain and one a lieutenant), 2 EADA's, 5 assistant DAs, 3 District Attorneys, 2 shrinks, and 1 coroner: how many of the characters and the actors can you name?
BONUS EXTRA GAME: Who should they get to replace Lenny Briscoe? There is of course only one possible answer: Chris Noth. Bring Mike Logan back from Staten Island.
BONUS EXTRA GAME DEUX: What's the ultimate Law & Order All-Star Line-up? You get 2 detectives, a supervising officer, a DA, a senior assistant and a junior assistant, a shrink, and an ME. You get to pick from any of the 3 shows. Double points if you can justify bringing in Hal Linden into the mix.
BONUS EXTRA GAME TROIS: Okay, I know you want to play: Serena, Abbie, Jamie, or Claire?
correct answer: Paul Robinette.
DOUBLE BONUS LLAMA POINTS: We all know that former US Senator Fred Thompson is currently the kick-arse DA, but what current serving member of the US House of Representatives has a recurring role as a judge?
I'm going to be out of town next week and so will miss the last episode of the season of Law & Order:Classic, but following up on Robbo's meme from the end of Friends and then Frasier, I'm going to ask the same question:
Lenny, Phil, or Max?
Jerry Orbach had a great run on L&O, capping off a heck of a career on TV, Broadway, and Hollywood. I mean, who can ever watch him and not think of his important role in that timeless coming of age love story dancing classic Beauty & the Beast? I mean, the way he made Luminere, the dancing candlestick swoon.......oh yeah, and something with that Swayze fellow too. (Come to think of it, now that we are trying to cast the worst. Darcy. possible. what about Patrick Swayze? It's not like he's doing anything these days....)
Seriously, his Lenny character on L&O was fabulous in the way that it and the show matured nicely over the years. I've wanted to do an article about this, looking at the ideological drift of the show to the right over the years. The method would be to do a content sample from each season (say about 6 episodes) and count the number of statements and their presentation that approach the legal issues of the criminal law from a liberal and conservative position. I think the drift there has been profound.
Quick Friday morning parlor game: there have been 21 regulars on the show over the years: 3 senior detectives, 3 junior detectives, 2 senior officers (one a captain and one a lieutenant), 2 EADA's, 5 assistant DAs, 3 District Attorneys, 2 shrinks, and 1 coroner: how many of the characters and the actors can you name?
BONUS EXTRA GAME: Who should they get to replace Lenny Briscoe? There is of course only one possible answer: Chris Noth. Bring Mike Logan back from Staten Island.
BONUS EXTRA GAME DEUX: What's the ultimate Law & Order All-Star Line-up? You get 2 detectives, a supervising officer, a DA, a senior assistant and a junior assistant, a shrink, and an ME. You get to pick from any of the 3 shows. Double points if you can justify bringing in Hal Linden into the mix.
BONUS EXTRA GAME TROIS: Okay, I know you want to play: Serena, Abbie, Jamie, or Claire?
correct answer: Paul Robinette.
DOUBLE BONUS LLAMA POINTS: We all know that former US Senator Fred Thompson is currently the kick-arse DA, but what current serving member of the US House of Representatives has a recurring role as a judge?
The lengths I will go to bring you the nooz
So it's been an interesting week at the gym this week. For the past four months or so I've been going to this 7 AM, er, aerobics class (yeah, I can hear you heading to the exits now, "First, he admits to eating brie, then it's the metric measuring tape, but THIS is the last straw!"), and afterword it's usually a quick lift, a sauna then shower, then on to work.
However, this week has been a little different (besides the no "on to work" part---ah, tenure's a bitch): the club where I go is hosting a pro-tennis tournament. A women's pro-tennis tournament. It's a clay court tournament, and a warm up for the French Open.
In the immortal words of Frank Barone, "Holy crap!" I mean, I sat in a pizza place here in Charlottesville a table away from Mia Hamm a couple of years ago (it was some sort of Bruce Arena thing over at UVa), but I repeat, "Holy crap!"
So it's been an interesting week at the gym this week. For the past four months or so I've been going to this 7 AM, er, aerobics class (yeah, I can hear you heading to the exits now, "First, he admits to eating brie, then it's the metric measuring tape, but THIS is the last straw!"), and afterword it's usually a quick lift, a sauna then shower, then on to work.
However, this week has been a little different (besides the no "on to work" part---ah, tenure's a bitch): the club where I go is hosting a pro-tennis tournament. A women's pro-tennis tournament. It's a clay court tournament, and a warm up for the French Open.
In the immortal words of Frank Barone, "Holy crap!" I mean, I sat in a pizza place here in Charlottesville a table away from Mia Hamm a couple of years ago (it was some sort of Bruce Arena thing over at UVa), but I repeat, "Holy crap!"
Hear Me, Oh Box-Office!
Jonathan Last actually has one or two decent things to say about the new movie Troy, most particularly in his praise of Peter O'Toole's performance as Priam. I particularly like Last's assessment of Brad Pitt's Achilles talking with Priam in the night. Heh. (BTW, I was rather under the impression that O'Toole died recently. Am I wrong? Or did he finish shooting first?)
But overall, Last is not at all happy with the movie's apparent decision to "improve" upon Homer, among other things removing the gods from the story. I would heartily agree, as I particularly detest this kind of Hollywood hubris.
One other thing that Last does not mention but I think is very important: The problem with this kind of film is that in our day and age this is the only exposure most people will ever get to the story. Some people argue that a movie like this encourages people to read the work on which it was based. I think this is balderdash, particularly in the case of a work like The Iliad, which actually requires some thought and concentration. Do you really think Li'l Britney is going to crack her copy just because it has a picture of Brad Pitt on the cover? Not bloody likely!
And also particularly in the case of works like The Iliad, the importance of the book is not just in the story itself, of course, but in how it is told, the language. Other than in the case of a play, it is physically impossible to transpose the beauty of truly great prose or poetry to the screen. That beauty will never be known by the kind of audience that will go and see this movie. Instead, the only image or memory of it they'll retain of it is Brad Pitt dolled up in stylized Greek armor. The monumental splendor of Homer's verse trumped by a Hollywood pretty-boy. Grrr, I say.
UPDATE: Enoch Soames, Esq. of the The Charlock's Shade relates this grim tale. Would it perhaps have helped to add the surname "Simpson"?
Jonathan Last actually has one or two decent things to say about the new movie Troy, most particularly in his praise of Peter O'Toole's performance as Priam. I particularly like Last's assessment of Brad Pitt's Achilles talking with Priam in the night. Heh. (BTW, I was rather under the impression that O'Toole died recently. Am I wrong? Or did he finish shooting first?)
But overall, Last is not at all happy with the movie's apparent decision to "improve" upon Homer, among other things removing the gods from the story. I would heartily agree, as I particularly detest this kind of Hollywood hubris.
One other thing that Last does not mention but I think is very important: The problem with this kind of film is that in our day and age this is the only exposure most people will ever get to the story. Some people argue that a movie like this encourages people to read the work on which it was based. I think this is balderdash, particularly in the case of a work like The Iliad, which actually requires some thought and concentration. Do you really think Li'l Britney is going to crack her copy just because it has a picture of Brad Pitt on the cover? Not bloody likely!
And also particularly in the case of works like The Iliad, the importance of the book is not just in the story itself, of course, but in how it is told, the language. Other than in the case of a play, it is physically impossible to transpose the beauty of truly great prose or poetry to the screen. That beauty will never be known by the kind of audience that will go and see this movie. Instead, the only image or memory of it they'll retain of it is Brad Pitt dolled up in stylized Greek armor. The monumental splendor of Homer's verse trumped by a Hollywood pretty-boy. Grrr, I say.
UPDATE: Enoch Soames, Esq. of the The Charlock's Shade relates this grim tale. Would it perhaps have helped to add the surname "Simpson"?
Seriously Exciting Llama News!
Ladies and Gentlemen, we here at the Llama Butchers are thrilled to announce that ground has been broken on our new home! Yes! The Butcher's Shop is being moved to the world of Munuviana, there to settle into new digs with all the latest fixin's.
Needless to say, this is probably going to take a bit of time. I've never used Movable Type in my life. Furthermore, we're still fiddling around with our new design and logo. (Keep those suggestions coming for what you'd like to see! We've had a couple of great ones.)
Once we get the new shop set up, we will of course leave a link post here on Blogger and will go round asking everyone to update their blogroll. In the meantime, you're more than welcome to wander over to the new site and see how things are coming along. "Pardon Our Dust," as the saying goes.
One thing is certain: Steve-O and I have been at this slightly less than six months now. In the next day or two, we're going to crack 10,000 hits. We are truly humbled and flattered at the reception we have received. We have also learned an awful lot about what makes good blogging. Enormous Llama thanks go out to all of you for your support. We are excited for even bigger things to come down the road.
In the meantime, you can count on us to remain Meaty, Woolly, Snippy.
Yip! Yip! Yip!
Ladies and Gentlemen, we here at the Llama Butchers are thrilled to announce that ground has been broken on our new home! Yes! The Butcher's Shop is being moved to the world of Munuviana, there to settle into new digs with all the latest fixin's.
Needless to say, this is probably going to take a bit of time. I've never used Movable Type in my life. Furthermore, we're still fiddling around with our new design and logo. (Keep those suggestions coming for what you'd like to see! We've had a couple of great ones.)
Once we get the new shop set up, we will of course leave a link post here on Blogger and will go round asking everyone to update their blogroll. In the meantime, you're more than welcome to wander over to the new site and see how things are coming along. "Pardon Our Dust," as the saying goes.
One thing is certain: Steve-O and I have been at this slightly less than six months now. In the next day or two, we're going to crack 10,000 hits. We are truly humbled and flattered at the reception we have received. We have also learned an awful lot about what makes good blogging. Enormous Llama thanks go out to all of you for your support. We are excited for even bigger things to come down the road.
In the meantime, you can count on us to remain Meaty, Woolly, Snippy.
Yip! Yip! Yip!
Thursday, May 13, 2004
Lousy, Stinking Storm Clouds
Do you ever give in to the notion that the weather is acting a particular way consciously and deliberately?
I've been watching the radar all week and every day thunderstorms have built up primarily west and south of here and just sat there. I begin to think they're taunting me.
Same damn deal today. Now I'm going to have to go out and water the furshlugginer garden again tonight.
Grr.
Do you ever give in to the notion that the weather is acting a particular way consciously and deliberately?
I've been watching the radar all week and every day thunderstorms have built up primarily west and south of here and just sat there. I begin to think they're taunting me.
Same damn deal today. Now I'm going to have to go out and water the furshlugginer garden again tonight.
Grr.
Copperhead Fedayeen Watch
Read this piece over at Glenn's.
May I call this little piece of trash a traitor now? Huh? May I? Pleeeeease?
Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
Read this piece over at Glenn's.
May I call this little piece of trash a traitor now? Huh? May I? Pleeeeease?
Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
Frasier Has Left The Building
James Joyner reminds me of something I had quite forgotten by linking to this Slate article about the end of Frasier. Like James, I haven't really watched the show since Niles and Daphne ran off together a few seasons back. But I still believe it was solidly written and agree with the notion that it is much closer to grown up shows like Mary Tyler Moore and the old Bob Newhart Show than to the current crop of crap.
Okay, then, I know Steve-O is now going to take back every nice thing he's said about my writing recently, but I just can't resist asking the question: Roz or Daphne?
James Joyner reminds me of something I had quite forgotten by linking to this Slate article about the end of Frasier. Like James, I haven't really watched the show since Niles and Daphne ran off together a few seasons back. But I still believe it was solidly written and agree with the notion that it is much closer to grown up shows like Mary Tyler Moore and the old Bob Newhart Show than to the current crop of crap.
Okay, then, I know Steve-O is now going to take back every nice thing he's said about my writing recently, but I just can't resist asking the question: Roz or Daphne?
The Iron Lady
Mryna Blythe has an article over at NRO today about Maggie Thatcher. It's Blythe's belief that the first woman President will be someone of Thatcher's character. I agree with that. (Note to Hillary: No, it's not you.)
I managed to wangle a job as a research assistant in Parliament in between college and law school. One time, I passed Thatcher in the hall and she smiled at me quite serenely.
Another time, tho, I got to see her going great guns: Occasionally, I managed to get tickets to sit in the gallery during Prime Minister's Question Time. One day that I'll never forget, Neal Kinnoch - who was then head of the Labour Party - rose to his hind legs to snipe at Thatcher over some policy decision. In response, she sent a barrage of withering fire back at him that left him literally dumb-struck. I don't even recall what Thatcher said. But the manner in which she delivered her response was so crisp, so clear and so passionate that poor Kinnoch simply had nothing to say. His jaw swung open, his eyes bulged and he slumped down in his seat on the bench. The entire Tory side of the House was in rapture. The Laborites all looked as if they wished they'd taken up that offer to move to the Foreign Office's Ross Ice Shelf station.
As for me - I'd have pulled my own molars out bare-handed had she asked me to at that point.
What a truly great Lady.
Mryna Blythe has an article over at NRO today about Maggie Thatcher. It's Blythe's belief that the first woman President will be someone of Thatcher's character. I agree with that. (Note to Hillary: No, it's not you.)
I managed to wangle a job as a research assistant in Parliament in between college and law school. One time, I passed Thatcher in the hall and she smiled at me quite serenely.
Another time, tho, I got to see her going great guns: Occasionally, I managed to get tickets to sit in the gallery during Prime Minister's Question Time. One day that I'll never forget, Neal Kinnoch - who was then head of the Labour Party - rose to his hind legs to snipe at Thatcher over some policy decision. In response, she sent a barrage of withering fire back at him that left him literally dumb-struck. I don't even recall what Thatcher said. But the manner in which she delivered her response was so crisp, so clear and so passionate that poor Kinnoch simply had nothing to say. His jaw swung open, his eyes bulged and he slumped down in his seat on the bench. The entire Tory side of the House was in rapture. The Laborites all looked as if they wished they'd taken up that offer to move to the Foreign Office's Ross Ice Shelf station.
As for me - I'd have pulled my own molars out bare-handed had she asked me to at that point.
What a truly great Lady.
It's The End Of The Wuuuuuuurld!!!!
"Ice age movie is realistic, says Britain's chief scientist" is the headline of this story from the Independent regarding the upcoming mega-enviro-disaster pic The Day After Tomorrow.
To quote Jeff Goldblum from one of Roland Emmerich's previous flicks, Independence Day, "Uh,uh,oh. Which part?"
Says Sir David King in response:
"The general interaction between the scientific community and political community is interestingly well portrayed," he said. "The opening scenes setting up the key scientific factors and introducing the viewer to the scientists and the scientific-political interface are in my view remarkably realistic. I think palaeoclimatologists can closely identify with the discussion. The sceptical reactions that the scientists received are also rather well depicted."
In other words, it's the bits where a bunch of policy wonks sit around arguing with bureaucrats. Can you smell the excitement?
The article is good enough to admit that the actual disaster portrayed in the movie, the apparent stopping of the Gulf Stream, is a load of bunk.
But hey - the lobbying!
Does anyone else remember the Monty Python sketch about the political groupies?
"Wull, we're init for the lobbying."
"Yes, you know a good debate is just fabulous!"
"I like civil servants!"
"I like Black Rod!"
"Oh, aye."
All this brought to you via Drudge, who ought to be ashamed of himself.
"Ice age movie is realistic, says Britain's chief scientist" is the headline of this story from the Independent regarding the upcoming mega-enviro-disaster pic The Day After Tomorrow.
To quote Jeff Goldblum from one of Roland Emmerich's previous flicks, Independence Day, "Uh,uh,oh. Which part?"
Says Sir David King in response:
"The general interaction between the scientific community and political community is interestingly well portrayed," he said. "The opening scenes setting up the key scientific factors and introducing the viewer to the scientists and the scientific-political interface are in my view remarkably realistic. I think palaeoclimatologists can closely identify with the discussion. The sceptical reactions that the scientists received are also rather well depicted."
In other words, it's the bits where a bunch of policy wonks sit around arguing with bureaucrats. Can you smell the excitement?
The article is good enough to admit that the actual disaster portrayed in the movie, the apparent stopping of the Gulf Stream, is a load of bunk.
But hey - the lobbying!
Does anyone else remember the Monty Python sketch about the political groupies?
"Wull, we're init for the lobbying."
"Yes, you know a good debate is just fabulous!"
"I like civil servants!"
"I like Black Rod!"
"Oh, aye."
All this brought to you via Drudge, who ought to be ashamed of himself.
As If You Really Needed Any More....
Peggy Noonan weighs in today with some good reasons to keep clear of New Jersey.
Mmmmmm......Peggy.
Peggy Noonan weighs in today with some good reasons to keep clear of New Jersey.
Mmmmmm......Peggy.
Brood X Watch
Well, we're all set for the big plague. So far, I haven't seen or heard anything around my house in McLean. Other folks living in Centerville and Herndon also report no sightings yet. On the other hand, my secretary, who lives in Fairfax, says they are all over the place at her house. Folks calling in to the radio also report similar patchiness in Maryland and other parts of Virginia. I don't know why, but for some reason I thought they all just erupted at one time.
The oldest Llama-ette reported that someone brought a live cicada into class the other day and that she and her friends "trained" it to do tricks. Um, right. With a swarm of five and six year olds hovering around, poking, prodding and stretching it, I almost felt sorry for the bug for a minute or two. I could just hear it saying in its little bug voice (which sounds surprisingly like that of Billy Crystal), "What? I waited seventeen years - for this?"
Well, we're all set for the big plague. So far, I haven't seen or heard anything around my house in McLean. Other folks living in Centerville and Herndon also report no sightings yet. On the other hand, my secretary, who lives in Fairfax, says they are all over the place at her house. Folks calling in to the radio also report similar patchiness in Maryland and other parts of Virginia. I don't know why, but for some reason I thought they all just erupted at one time.
The oldest Llama-ette reported that someone brought a live cicada into class the other day and that she and her friends "trained" it to do tricks. Um, right. With a swarm of five and six year olds hovering around, poking, prodding and stretching it, I almost felt sorry for the bug for a minute or two. I could just hear it saying in its little bug voice (which sounds surprisingly like that of Billy Crystal), "What? I waited seventeen years - for this?"
More Llama Yips!
Thanks to the good folks at the House of Payne for including us in their blogroll! I would not have spotted this but for a comment one of their numbers left to a post here. Go on over and check out their mix of "international politics, science fiction, old comic books, and other nerd stuff."
(Oh, if anyone else out there has blogrolled us without our having seemed to have noticed, please don't be shy about tipping us off. We Llama Butchers are of the Judith Martin school of social obligation and want to make sure that proper thanks are given where they are due.)
Yip! Yip! Yip!
Thanks to the good folks at the House of Payne for including us in their blogroll! I would not have spotted this but for a comment one of their numbers left to a post here. Go on over and check out their mix of "international politics, science fiction, old comic books, and other nerd stuff."
(Oh, if anyone else out there has blogrolled us without our having seemed to have noticed, please don't be shy about tipping us off. We Llama Butchers are of the Judith Martin school of social obligation and want to make sure that proper thanks are given where they are due.)
Yip! Yip! Yip!
First, Let's Kill All The Lawyers
Well, not all of them, of course.
I've been roped into helping out with document production in a big medical litigation case. This is the second time in about a year I've been involved in this kind of project.
What never ceases to amaze me is that anyone manages to actually practice medicine in this day and age. (My father and brother are both docs, btw). Between government micromanagement, an insane insurance system and the piranhas of the malpractice plaintiff's bar, what puzzles me is why anyone would even want to anymore.
UPDATE: Just to demonstrate to you readers exactly how much of a crackpot I really am, I'm working through pdf files off a CD in my computer's disk drive. When the drive is on standby, as it were, it sounds just like the turbofan of a jet aircraft as the plane taxis out to the runway. When it goes to retrieve a new pdf file, it goes into overdrive with a noise exactly like a jet opening up its throttle when starting its takeoff roll. This is making my palms sweat involuntarily.
(For those of you new here, my definition of flying is hours of utter boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror.)
Well, not all of them, of course.
I've been roped into helping out with document production in a big medical litigation case. This is the second time in about a year I've been involved in this kind of project.
What never ceases to amaze me is that anyone manages to actually practice medicine in this day and age. (My father and brother are both docs, btw). Between government micromanagement, an insane insurance system and the piranhas of the malpractice plaintiff's bar, what puzzles me is why anyone would even want to anymore.
UPDATE: Just to demonstrate to you readers exactly how much of a crackpot I really am, I'm working through pdf files off a CD in my computer's disk drive. When the drive is on standby, as it were, it sounds just like the turbofan of a jet aircraft as the plane taxis out to the runway. When it goes to retrieve a new pdf file, it goes into overdrive with a noise exactly like a jet opening up its throttle when starting its takeoff roll. This is making my palms sweat involuntarily.
(For those of you new here, my definition of flying is hours of utter boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror.)
Correcting the Commissar
The Commissar has had some interesting stuff as of late--though while we can usually count on Politburo Diktat as well as our old jackass creator Allahpundit for some biting satire, there are times I guess when even for the greats the ability to find the dark comedy out of our capacity for barbarism is drained, even if it is only of the "Hey, check it out--the executioner is showing some plumber's crack--way to go, fatty!" variety.
However, the Commissar has an interesting observation riffing off a theme that our old friend Michele at A Small Victory was making about the war at home---how we are suddenly fighting (and by that I mean FIGHTING) most of the nasty social and political divisions of the 1960s again.
The Commissar's observation on this was a conflict between our inner Jefferson and our inner Philip Sheridan---the Union general who, while commanding armies out West, is alleged to have said, "The only good Indian is a dead Indian."
The Commissar has it almost correct: the battle is between our inner Jefferson and......our inner Jefferson. Ironically, there's not that much difference between the rhetoric of Jefferson's "Empire of Liberty" and the rhetoric of the neocons; that's not to say that the neocons are imperialistic--they aren't. That was the whole point of the idea of an "empire" of "liberty": it was to end the idea of empire altogether, and replace it with the idea of freedom and self-determination. Great idea. Even noble.
However, it comes in conflict with the other Jefferson, and where the Empire of Liberty would be--the American west, and ultimately the western hemisphere. The problem was Jefferson's tortured vision of WHO the American Indians were, and how they fit into the future of America. This varied depending on what the Indians were being considered in context with. And his noble plans of the un-empire don't exactly flush with the methods used to attain them--later I'll dig out some note cards on this, as the stuff is pretty damning (not as damning as Madison's plan to pay for the African repatriation project to Liberia by using the money made from the sale of the lands of the Cherokees, but that's a whole other posting).
Does the darker Jefferson mean that his idea of an empire of liberty was completely and forever cooked? Perhaps, I'm not sure. However, the conflict here in context of our policy in Iraq is completely different in one important respect: it's a different world. The way in which the Commissar was using the idea was to get us to refrain from going over to the Dark Side on this, the "let's kill them all" mentality. But we have an advantage here: we know what happens if we do that. We know from our own experience in America what happens if you let racist northern urban Irish politicians put the kibosh on Reconstruction. (Okay, that was a high stick, but hey,if you don't like it get your own damn blog). We know that saying "Deus Volt!" as a pretext to slaughter innocents is the worse abuse possible. Fortunately, Tolkien's maxim about evil--that good can triumph over evil because evil can only envision evil, whereas good can see both--applies here: I mean, the historical irony of these AQ boys, schooled from their mother's breast on the evils of the crusaders, should then structure their whole lives acting out the rhetorical, legal, and religious logic of the crusaders themselves is absolutely staggering, and funny, in some cosmic sort of way. (I'm looking for Robbo to correct/reinforce/cite the reference I'm making--it's in ROTK).
I realize I'm throwing in a lot here in a short space---this is a bit of a jumbling of a number of themes from the first two chapters of the book I'm working on about the history of American Indian law (the first chapter deals with the legal framework used to justify the Crusades, as it led to the concept of the Rights of the Discoverer enshrined by John Marshall in 1823's Johnson v. McIntosh; the second chapter focuses on Jefferson and Andrew Jackson and the legal, political, economic, and social context of the Indian Removal of the 1830s). So I'm sorry if I'm tossing undigested stuff back out on the table.
The long and the short of it is that in answer to Michele's lament about internal strife and deep division, the problem is that that is far and away the norm in American history, and, if anything, what we are going through now is while not mild certainly not as pronounced as the divisions of the 1790s, the 1840s and 50s, as well as the 1870s-mid 1890s (obviously, the 1860s are special in that manner). There is a certain narcissism of the Baby Boomers that everything they do is first or most significant or tres profound---and as far as social and political divisions and discord goes, this aint it. Today's episode of "Fiftysomething"--Hope and Michael snub their neocon former friends..... (I've wanted to teach a class called "The Sixties" and have it look at American in the 1760s, the 1860s and 1960s to get some perspective on things).
However.......if Bush is assassinated, all bets are off. Things will get ugly then. That's what makes the whole Air America thing yesterday advocating the assassination of the president that much more insane. That wacky Al Franken.....Rush making fun of Chelsea Clinton's looks was hate speech (instead of simple boorishness), but saying that assassinating the president is a great idea---protected free speech! (And yes, I know it was one of the other shows, but Air America is Al Franken).
The Commissar has had some interesting stuff as of late--though while we can usually count on Politburo Diktat as well as our old jackass creator Allahpundit for some biting satire, there are times I guess when even for the greats the ability to find the dark comedy out of our capacity for barbarism is drained, even if it is only of the "Hey, check it out--the executioner is showing some plumber's crack--way to go, fatty!" variety.
However, the Commissar has an interesting observation riffing off a theme that our old friend Michele at A Small Victory was making about the war at home---how we are suddenly fighting (and by that I mean FIGHTING) most of the nasty social and political divisions of the 1960s again.
The Commissar's observation on this was a conflict between our inner Jefferson and our inner Philip Sheridan---the Union general who, while commanding armies out West, is alleged to have said, "The only good Indian is a dead Indian."
A few days ago, Michele wrote about the wars and civil wars that are consuming America. She missed one, the civil war between Thomas Jefferson and Phil Sheridan, the general who reputedly said, "The only good Indian is a dead Indian."
Within America, within the warbloggers, indeed within each of our hearts, is a war between our inner Thomas Jefferson and our inner Phil Sheridan. We want to bring stability, peace, a pluralistic society, and democracy to places like Afghanistan and Iraq. We self-interestedly want to pursue those noble goals. At the same time, we are angry about 9/11, terrorists who blow up buses of Israeli kids, serial video decapitators, etc. There is a very powerful Old Testament desire, "Lord, smite my enemies."
The Commissar has it almost correct: the battle is between our inner Jefferson and......our inner Jefferson. Ironically, there's not that much difference between the rhetoric of Jefferson's "Empire of Liberty" and the rhetoric of the neocons; that's not to say that the neocons are imperialistic--they aren't. That was the whole point of the idea of an "empire" of "liberty": it was to end the idea of empire altogether, and replace it with the idea of freedom and self-determination. Great idea. Even noble.
However, it comes in conflict with the other Jefferson, and where the Empire of Liberty would be--the American west, and ultimately the western hemisphere. The problem was Jefferson's tortured vision of WHO the American Indians were, and how they fit into the future of America. This varied depending on what the Indians were being considered in context with. And his noble plans of the un-empire don't exactly flush with the methods used to attain them--later I'll dig out some note cards on this, as the stuff is pretty damning (not as damning as Madison's plan to pay for the African repatriation project to Liberia by using the money made from the sale of the lands of the Cherokees, but that's a whole other posting).
Does the darker Jefferson mean that his idea of an empire of liberty was completely and forever cooked? Perhaps, I'm not sure. However, the conflict here in context of our policy in Iraq is completely different in one important respect: it's a different world. The way in which the Commissar was using the idea was to get us to refrain from going over to the Dark Side on this, the "let's kill them all" mentality. But we have an advantage here: we know what happens if we do that. We know from our own experience in America what happens if you let racist northern urban Irish politicians put the kibosh on Reconstruction. (Okay, that was a high stick, but hey,if you don't like it get your own damn blog). We know that saying "Deus Volt!" as a pretext to slaughter innocents is the worse abuse possible. Fortunately, Tolkien's maxim about evil--that good can triumph over evil because evil can only envision evil, whereas good can see both--applies here: I mean, the historical irony of these AQ boys, schooled from their mother's breast on the evils of the crusaders, should then structure their whole lives acting out the rhetorical, legal, and religious logic of the crusaders themselves is absolutely staggering, and funny, in some cosmic sort of way. (I'm looking for Robbo to correct/reinforce/cite the reference I'm making--it's in ROTK).
I realize I'm throwing in a lot here in a short space---this is a bit of a jumbling of a number of themes from the first two chapters of the book I'm working on about the history of American Indian law (the first chapter deals with the legal framework used to justify the Crusades, as it led to the concept of the Rights of the Discoverer enshrined by John Marshall in 1823's Johnson v. McIntosh; the second chapter focuses on Jefferson and Andrew Jackson and the legal, political, economic, and social context of the Indian Removal of the 1830s). So I'm sorry if I'm tossing undigested stuff back out on the table.
The long and the short of it is that in answer to Michele's lament about internal strife and deep division, the problem is that that is far and away the norm in American history, and, if anything, what we are going through now is while not mild certainly not as pronounced as the divisions of the 1790s, the 1840s and 50s, as well as the 1870s-mid 1890s (obviously, the 1860s are special in that manner). There is a certain narcissism of the Baby Boomers that everything they do is first or most significant or tres profound---and as far as social and political divisions and discord goes, this aint it. Today's episode of "Fiftysomething"--Hope and Michael snub their neocon former friends..... (I've wanted to teach a class called "The Sixties" and have it look at American in the 1760s, the 1860s and 1960s to get some perspective on things).
However.......if Bush is assassinated, all bets are off. Things will get ugly then. That's what makes the whole Air America thing yesterday advocating the assassination of the president that much more insane. That wacky Al Franken.....Rush making fun of Chelsea Clinton's looks was hate speech (instead of simple boorishness), but saying that assassinating the president is a great idea---protected free speech! (And yes, I know it was one of the other shows, but Air America is Al Franken).
Llama Posting
Blogger seems to be doing weird things today, so if something looks rather odd around here, blame it on the host.
The GOOD news is that Steve-O and I have finally got our collective duffs in motion and are working on bringing this entire opus over to Movable Type. (Last call for Pixie to take us to Mu.Nu. - otherwise, we're headed for Hosting Matters.)
We'll keep you apprised of our progress. Oh, and if you have any particular suggestions about what you like, what you don't, what you might want to see - well, you know where the Tasty Bits (TM)Mail Sack is! If we adopt your suggestion, you could be eligible to win!
Yip! Yip!
Blogger seems to be doing weird things today, so if something looks rather odd around here, blame it on the host.
The GOOD news is that Steve-O and I have finally got our collective duffs in motion and are working on bringing this entire opus over to Movable Type. (Last call for Pixie to take us to Mu.Nu. - otherwise, we're headed for Hosting Matters.)
We'll keep you apprised of our progress. Oh, and if you have any particular suggestions about what you like, what you don't, what you might want to see - well, you know where the Tasty Bits (TM)Mail Sack is! If we adopt your suggestion, you could be eligible to win!
Yip! Yip!
The Fortune Of War
Go and read the Belmont Club's latest on the situation in Iraq. Remember just a few short days ago when Fallujah was turning into our next Mogadishu and the evil little troll Al Sadr was bringing us to our knees and our efforts to establish Iraqi representative government and local responsibility were in tatters? Well, a funny thing happened on the way to the funeral......
Go and read the Belmont Club's latest on the situation in Iraq. Remember just a few short days ago when Fallujah was turning into our next Mogadishu and the evil little troll Al Sadr was bringing us to our knees and our efforts to establish Iraqi representative government and local responsibility were in tatters? Well, a funny thing happened on the way to the funeral......
Contention is a brewin'
Strong words being exchanged in the Tasty Bits (tm) Mail Sack over the presence or absence of Tia Carrere in the movie Kull the Conqueror. Our Llama JAG correspondent precipitated it by thinking of the movie Krull. Biiiiiiiiiggg difference. One is "a barbarian named K unexpectedly becomes a king after an old king (whom K has just killed in a battle) gives his crown to him"; whereas the other is "The indescribable monster and its army the Slayers attack the planet K. To be able to stop the invaders two hostile nations decide to join their forces by the marriage of Princess Lyssa and Prince Colwyn. During the ceremony the Slayers attack the palace, kill both kings, wound Colwyn and kidnap Lyssa. At the next morning the wise Ynyr seeks and finds Colwyn. With Ynyr's help Colwn gains possession of a magic weapon the five blade sword and together they go on their quest for the indescribable monster's black fortress to free Lyssa."
Geez, who could mistake them? Duh.
Which got me thinking of a contest: what has been the worst/most inappropriate casting, either solo or combo, in an action/adventure movie? We're talking accidental-comedy level of bad. Also, what would casting choices would've made an action/adventure movie that much worse? You know, besides the obvious Helena Bonham Carter in the role of Vin Diesel's girlfriend "Letty" in The Fast and the Furious, or for that matter the Merchant-Ivory hair girl in Planet of the Apes with Marky-Mark Wahlberg. Oh wait, she actually was in that one.
Strong words being exchanged in the Tasty Bits (tm) Mail Sack over the presence or absence of Tia Carrere in the movie Kull the Conqueror. Our Llama JAG correspondent precipitated it by thinking of the movie Krull. Biiiiiiiiiggg difference. One is "a barbarian named K unexpectedly becomes a king after an old king (whom K has just killed in a battle) gives his crown to him"; whereas the other is "The indescribable monster and its army the Slayers attack the planet K. To be able to stop the invaders two hostile nations decide to join their forces by the marriage of Princess Lyssa and Prince Colwyn. During the ceremony the Slayers attack the palace, kill both kings, wound Colwyn and kidnap Lyssa. At the next morning the wise Ynyr seeks and finds Colwyn. With Ynyr's help Colwn gains possession of a magic weapon the five blade sword and together they go on their quest for the indescribable monster's black fortress to free Lyssa."
Geez, who could mistake them? Duh.
Which got me thinking of a contest: what has been the worst/most inappropriate casting, either solo or combo, in an action/adventure movie? We're talking accidental-comedy level of bad. Also, what would casting choices would've made an action/adventure movie that much worse? You know, besides the obvious Helena Bonham Carter in the role of Vin Diesel's girlfriend "Letty" in The Fast and the Furious, or for that matter the Merchant-Ivory hair girl in Planet of the Apes with Marky-Mark Wahlberg. Oh wait, she actually was in that one.
Googling The Llamas
I notice that a fair number of people have googled over here in the past day or so looking for information on the murder of Nick Berg. Two of the searches rather stood out:
"CIA Berg Beheading Ruse"
"Rotten Nick Berg"
Uh, I'm not even sure I want to know what these folks were thinking. Is there really a meme floating around that the Berg murder was some kind of CIA plot? And why "rotten"? From what I read, he was a decent guy trying to do a little bit of good in a very bad world. Now he's dead at the hands of a group of animals who make a significant contribution to that badness.
Oh, and for the person who came here looking for "Diane Kruger backside" - this is a family site, pal!
I notice that a fair number of people have googled over here in the past day or so looking for information on the murder of Nick Berg. Two of the searches rather stood out:
"CIA Berg Beheading Ruse"
"Rotten Nick Berg"
Uh, I'm not even sure I want to know what these folks were thinking. Is there really a meme floating around that the Berg murder was some kind of CIA plot? And why "rotten"? From what I read, he was a decent guy trying to do a little bit of good in a very bad world. Now he's dead at the hands of a group of animals who make a significant contribution to that badness.
Oh, and for the person who came here looking for "Diane Kruger backside" - this is a family site, pal!
Does the "J" in "J-School" stand for "Jackass"?
The Boston Globe is duped into publishing porn pics as bona fide Iraq prison abuse pics.
The Boston Globe is duped into publishing porn pics as bona fide Iraq prison abuse pics.
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
They don't call it Texas BEST Grok for nuthin'
John is channeling Rush on the last week in Iraq.
(Don't worry, it's the other Rush)
John is channeling Rush on the last week in Iraq.
(Don't worry, it's the other Rush)
Just an odd thought
A weird train of thought floated through my head while spreading mulch this afternoon (of course, other than the "mulch mulch mulch mulch mulch mulch..." song):
Short intellectual history of Europe, past 1000 years: Crusades->Renaissance->Reformation->Enlightenment->Modernism->Postmodernism.
What follows postmodernism? What can follow postmodernism?
Other than sharia, perhaps?
A weird train of thought floated through my head while spreading mulch this afternoon (of course, other than the "mulch mulch mulch mulch mulch mulch..." song):
Short intellectual history of Europe, past 1000 years: Crusades->Renaissance->Reformation->Enlightenment->Modernism->Postmodernism.
What follows postmodernism? What can follow postmodernism?
Other than sharia, perhaps?
To what lengths will the loony left go to show their hatred for Dubya?
GASP! Louis Farrakhan says something nice about George Washington! DOUBLE GASP! And says that America "is greatest nation in the history of the present world." Only, of course, in the context of the president destroying it.
But of course.
HT to the inestimable Insults Unpunished.
GASP! Louis Farrakhan says something nice about George Washington! DOUBLE GASP! And says that America "is greatest nation in the history of the present world." Only, of course, in the context of the president destroying it.
But of course.
HT to the inestimable Insults Unpunished.
New Llama Yips
Just wanted to alert you folks to two new voices on the Llama blogroll.
First is the Bookish Gardener, with whom we've become chummy recently. As many of you are, I am sure, perfectly aware, Chan is interested in lots of goodly things including gardening (now there's a surprise),Beethoven piano sonatas and other bits of what they call "cult-chah" in the Northeast.
Next is a fresh new blog called the Geek Empire, featuring (mostly) the political observations of an Iraqi War vet. Sorry Francis, there's no such thing as a Llama-lanche yet, but we do encourage everybody to go on over and say howdy to this fledgling site.
Yip! Yip! Yip!
Just wanted to alert you folks to two new voices on the Llama blogroll.
First is the Bookish Gardener, with whom we've become chummy recently. As many of you are, I am sure, perfectly aware, Chan is interested in lots of goodly things including gardening (now there's a surprise),Beethoven piano sonatas and other bits of what they call "cult-chah" in the Northeast.
Next is a fresh new blog called the Geek Empire, featuring (mostly) the political observations of an Iraqi War vet. Sorry Francis, there's no such thing as a Llama-lanche yet, but we do encourage everybody to go on over and say howdy to this fledgling site.
Yip! Yip! Yip!
Kerry's Potemkin Groundswell - A Llama Exclusive Scoop!
Don't say we Llamas don't contribute to the cause: I have this straight from the Butcher's Wife -
A certain haughty, French-looking Massachusetts liberal, who by the way served in Vietnam, went down to Florida last night in order to do a little campaigning. As a base of operations, he rented out an entire floor at Disney's Beach Club in Orlando.
Well, a relative of the BW happens to be staying there at the moment. She overheard Kerry's advance men making arrangements with the Club folks for Kerry's arrival late last night. The trouble is that what she thought she heard were plans for the impending arrival of Jim Carrey. Word of this quickly got around and at 11:00 PM last night when the good Senator rolled up, a large crowd had turned out expecting to see the star of such screen gems as The Mask, The Cable Guy and Bruce Almighty.
Our Llama correspondent reports that when Jim Carrey, er, didn't get off the bus, disappointment filled the air. In the meantime, John Kerry (perhaps naturally) assumed the crowd had shown up to greet him and immediately started working it. While the crowd took it all in stride, they were not especially happy. Our Llama correspondent reports that several people considered asking Kerry to at least make some faces, just to ease the disappointment a bit.
John Kerry's support - half a mile wide, half an inch deep and secretly in love with somebody else.
Heh, indeed.
Don't say we Llamas don't contribute to the cause: I have this straight from the Butcher's Wife -
A certain haughty, French-looking Massachusetts liberal, who by the way served in Vietnam, went down to Florida last night in order to do a little campaigning. As a base of operations, he rented out an entire floor at Disney's Beach Club in Orlando.
Well, a relative of the BW happens to be staying there at the moment. She overheard Kerry's advance men making arrangements with the Club folks for Kerry's arrival late last night. The trouble is that what she thought she heard were plans for the impending arrival of Jim Carrey. Word of this quickly got around and at 11:00 PM last night when the good Senator rolled up, a large crowd had turned out expecting to see the star of such screen gems as The Mask, The Cable Guy and Bruce Almighty.
Our Llama correspondent reports that when Jim Carrey, er, didn't get off the bus, disappointment filled the air. In the meantime, John Kerry (perhaps naturally) assumed the crowd had shown up to greet him and immediately started working it. While the crowd took it all in stride, they were not especially happy. Our Llama correspondent reports that several people considered asking Kerry to at least make some faces, just to ease the disappointment a bit.
John Kerry's support - half a mile wide, half an inch deep and secretly in love with somebody else.
Heh, indeed.
Just A Hunch
Scanning the headlines on CNN and Drudge about CBS refusing to run the video of the Berg killing but deciding to air more prisoner abuse pictures, and about the continuing circus that is the Congressional investigation, I'm beginning to think the Copperhead Fedayeen have overplayed their hand on all of this in its effort to Get Bush, that the public is wising up and that the President is going to come out of it in a stronger position than before.
Just a hunch.
Scanning the headlines on CNN and Drudge about CBS refusing to run the video of the Berg killing but deciding to air more prisoner abuse pictures, and about the continuing circus that is the Congressional investigation, I'm beginning to think the Copperhead Fedayeen have overplayed their hand on all of this in its effort to Get Bush, that the public is wising up and that the President is going to come out of it in a stronger position than before.
Just a hunch.
More Tolkien Geekiness
How pathetic is this? I sat down at lunch to read carefully the piece I'd linked to this morning about weather in The Lord of the Rings. Pretty informative, but at least two glaring errors jumped out at me:
1. (P. 442)"After a night spent in the security of Brandy Hall..." The five hobbits did not stay at the Hall. Frodo had bought a small, isolated house a couple miles away at Crickhollow. That's where he, Sam and Pippin went when they arrived in Buckland, joining Merry and Fatty who were waiting there for them. And as for security, of course the house was attacked the next night by the Black Riders after Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry had left.
2. (P. 443) "The episode [the fight at the Fords of Bruinen] ends in a particularly dramatic finale when Shadowfax, the white horse, carrying wounded Frodo, outpaces all nine black riders...." Of course, it wasn't Shadowfax at all. (Gandalf wasn't even there.) Rather, it was Glorfindel's horse Asfaloth.
Humph!
(Now if things like this set me off, you can just imagine how bent out of shape I get about liberties taken in the movies!)
How pathetic is this? I sat down at lunch to read carefully the piece I'd linked to this morning about weather in The Lord of the Rings. Pretty informative, but at least two glaring errors jumped out at me:
1. (P. 442)"After a night spent in the security of Brandy Hall..." The five hobbits did not stay at the Hall. Frodo had bought a small, isolated house a couple miles away at Crickhollow. That's where he, Sam and Pippin went when they arrived in Buckland, joining Merry and Fatty who were waiting there for them. And as for security, of course the house was attacked the next night by the Black Riders after Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry had left.
2. (P. 443) "The episode [the fight at the Fords of Bruinen] ends in a particularly dramatic finale when Shadowfax, the white horse, carrying wounded Frodo, outpaces all nine black riders...." Of course, it wasn't Shadowfax at all. (Gandalf wasn't even there.) Rather, it was Glorfindel's horse Asfaloth.
Humph!
(Now if things like this set me off, you can just imagine how bent out of shape I get about liberties taken in the movies!)
Nothing to see here, move along, not a story because it doesn't involve Americans...
From the Kuwaiti Times:
NAIROBI: The United Nations is setting up a team to investigate reports that UN personnel sexually abused civilians, including minors, in a volatile north eastern Congolese town, UN officials said yesterday. There are several thousand UN troops deployed in Bunia to stem fighting between rival tribal factions and "some elements" of the force are alleged to have sexually abused Congolese citizens, said Leocadia Salmeron, a spokesman for the UN mission in Congo. "We will take necessary action to contain the situation because it is very important for the U.N. to make it clear that this kind of behavior is not acceptable," Salmeron said by telephone from Bunia....
No doubt this will lead to demands for reform at the UN.
Oh yeah, right, I forgot....
From the Kuwaiti Times:
NAIROBI: The United Nations is setting up a team to investigate reports that UN personnel sexually abused civilians, including minors, in a volatile north eastern Congolese town, UN officials said yesterday. There are several thousand UN troops deployed in Bunia to stem fighting between rival tribal factions and "some elements" of the force are alleged to have sexually abused Congolese citizens, said Leocadia Salmeron, a spokesman for the UN mission in Congo. "We will take necessary action to contain the situation because it is very important for the U.N. to make it clear that this kind of behavior is not acceptable," Salmeron said by telephone from Bunia....
No doubt this will lead to demands for reform at the UN.
Oh yeah, right, I forgot....
"'E Used.....Sarcasm!"*
LeeAnn over at The Cheese Stands Alone relates a tale of office PC horror. I don't believe I've ever encountered anything quite like this, although one time back in the day my sixth grade mates and I got in trouble for convincing a girl in our history class that there really were lines of latitude and longitude around the world - done in toilet paper. She wanted to know how it stayed together in the water. We told her it was laminated. She bought it.
HT to Lynn.
*Extra Geek Cred if you can identify the quote, although not much because it's pretty easy.
LeeAnn over at The Cheese Stands Alone relates a tale of office PC horror. I don't believe I've ever encountered anything quite like this, although one time back in the day my sixth grade mates and I got in trouble for convincing a girl in our history class that there really were lines of latitude and longitude around the world - done in toilet paper. She wanted to know how it stayed together in the water. We told her it was laminated. She bought it.
HT to Lynn.
*Extra Geek Cred if you can identify the quote, although not much because it's pretty easy.
Fun links from the Arab News
Wow! After the (well-deserved and appropriate) aggressive denunciation of the Americans for their treatment of the jihadi prisoners, the Arab News took the moral high ground today. Afraid that the world would see the masked man yelling "Allah is great" while slicing off the head of a defenseless man as impugning Islam, and that the showing of this tape might inflame the American street (or at least the American cul-de-sac), they devoted their editorial page with the following similar and brave denunciation of the videotaped beheading of a man singled out for his race and his religion:
(insert here what would be the Arabic equivalent of the euphemism "crickets chirping.")
I also enjoyed this cartoon in Le Monde denouncing the barbarous behavior of AQ:
grillons gazouillant is what babelfish tells me is the literal translation, and I'll depend on Llamabutcher Persnickety Language Consultant Tim to help me out on this one.
While on this theme, I'm looking forward to the following days on which Ted Koppel will read the names individually of all the children in Iraq who died from malnourishment due to the criminal and fraudulent UN Oil for Food scam:
Thought so.
Wow! After the (well-deserved and appropriate) aggressive denunciation of the Americans for their treatment of the jihadi prisoners, the Arab News took the moral high ground today. Afraid that the world would see the masked man yelling "Allah is great" while slicing off the head of a defenseless man as impugning Islam, and that the showing of this tape might inflame the American street (or at least the American cul-de-sac), they devoted their editorial page with the following similar and brave denunciation of the videotaped beheading of a man singled out for his race and his religion:
(insert here what would be the Arabic equivalent of the euphemism "crickets chirping.")
I also enjoyed this cartoon in Le Monde denouncing the barbarous behavior of AQ:
grillons gazouillant is what babelfish tells me is the literal translation, and I'll depend on Llamabutcher Persnickety Language Consultant Tim to help me out on this one.
While on this theme, I'm looking forward to the following days on which Ted Koppel will read the names individually of all the children in Iraq who died from malnourishment due to the criminal and fraudulent UN Oil for Food scam:
Thought so.
Type THIS!
My kids are very fond of an old Sesame Street Night-Before- Christmas special we have on tape. One of the sub-plots is Cookie Monster's repeated attempts to contact Santa in order to ask for cookies for Christmas. The gag is that every time Cookie Monster starts thinking about what to say to Santa, he gets so hungry that he winds up eating whatever it is he's using to communicate - pencil and paper, typewriter, telephone.
Well this morning, my six year old was talking about this business and wanted to know what the noisy box was that Cookie Monster kept poking and why he was doing it - she had no idea what a typewriter was. I aged ever so slightly.
I bring this up in part because Jen Lars notes that the QWERTY format of the keyboard was originally developed in the 1870's in order to reduce jamming on clunky new typewriters by strategically spreading heavily-used letters about. She thus notes that 2004 productivity is still being governed by 1870's engineering specs.
If Jen is going where I think she is with this, my reaction is "Quiet, you." It took me long enough to learn QWERTY. I'm not about to throw that away at this stage.
YIPS from Steve: "C is for Cranky, that's good enough for me, C is for Cranky, that's good enough for me,C is for Cranky, that's good enough for me, Cranky Cranky Cranky starts with 'C'."
My kids are very fond of an old Sesame Street Night-Before- Christmas special we have on tape. One of the sub-plots is Cookie Monster's repeated attempts to contact Santa in order to ask for cookies for Christmas. The gag is that every time Cookie Monster starts thinking about what to say to Santa, he gets so hungry that he winds up eating whatever it is he's using to communicate - pencil and paper, typewriter, telephone.
Well this morning, my six year old was talking about this business and wanted to know what the noisy box was that Cookie Monster kept poking and why he was doing it - she had no idea what a typewriter was. I aged ever so slightly.
I bring this up in part because Jen Lars notes that the QWERTY format of the keyboard was originally developed in the 1870's in order to reduce jamming on clunky new typewriters by strategically spreading heavily-used letters about. She thus notes that 2004 productivity is still being governed by 1870's engineering specs.
If Jen is going where I think she is with this, my reaction is "Quiet, you." It took me long enough to learn QWERTY. I'm not about to throw that away at this stage.
YIPS from Steve: "C is for Cranky, that's good enough for me, C is for Cranky, that's good enough for me,C is for Cranky, that's good enough for me, Cranky Cranky Cranky starts with 'C'."
How Did We Get On This Party List?
I note that we have been blogrolled by no less an entity than the Commercial Leasing Law Blog, no doubt for our insights on David Hasselhoff and Frank J's criminal manipulation of the T-Shirt Babes competition.
Nonetheless, I feel it's important to offer something to justify our inclusion in this august collection of legal thought, so I'll throw out the following bit of generic wisdom:
The Federal Communications Commission recently has imposed what amounts to a near letter-perfect standard for accepting petitions for the inclusion of foreign-licensed satellites on its "Permitted Space Stations List" (developed pursuant to the DISCO II First Reconsideration Order, FCC 99-325 (released October 29, 1999). This heightened scrutiny of initial applications has led to the dismissal of several recent filings as unacceptable. Parties seeking to place foreign-licensed satellites on the List should consider informal review their applications by the FCC's International Bureau staff prior to formal submission.
Yes, this is real. No, it does not constitute legal advice on which anyone can specifically rely. So don't do it. Having said that, I don't suppose any of you want to get a satellite licensed, do you?
I note that we have been blogrolled by no less an entity than the Commercial Leasing Law Blog, no doubt for our insights on David Hasselhoff and Frank J's criminal manipulation of the T-Shirt Babes competition.
Nonetheless, I feel it's important to offer something to justify our inclusion in this august collection of legal thought, so I'll throw out the following bit of generic wisdom:
The Federal Communications Commission recently has imposed what amounts to a near letter-perfect standard for accepting petitions for the inclusion of foreign-licensed satellites on its "Permitted Space Stations List" (developed pursuant to the DISCO II First Reconsideration Order, FCC 99-325 (released October 29, 1999). This heightened scrutiny of initial applications has led to the dismissal of several recent filings as unacceptable. Parties seeking to place foreign-licensed satellites on the List should consider informal review their applications by the FCC's International Bureau staff prior to formal submission.
Yes, this is real. No, it does not constitute legal advice on which anyone can specifically rely. So don't do it. Having said that, I don't suppose any of you want to get a satellite licensed, do you?
Llama Life
By the way, if you scroll down the past day or two and notice the way our llama thoughts go zinging around from topic to topic, covering the heady, the trivial, the serious and the insane, you'll begin to understand why I have these nose-bleeds all the time.
But that's us Llamas - covering the waterfront so you don't have to!
Yip! Yip!
By the way, if you scroll down the past day or two and notice the way our llama thoughts go zinging around from topic to topic, covering the heady, the trivial, the serious and the insane, you'll begin to understand why I have these nose-bleeds all the time.
But that's us Llamas - covering the waterfront so you don't have to!
Yip! Yip!
Good Karma
Feeling soul-starved by the events of the past few days? Wondering what you can do to reassert some decency in the world? The Command Post has an excellent suggestion.
The beauty of this proposal is that it has nothing directly to do with what's been happening: it is simply a spontanious act of goodness. Go and read. And think about helping out. It will be as good for you as it is for them.
Thanks.
Feeling soul-starved by the events of the past few days? Wondering what you can do to reassert some decency in the world? The Command Post has an excellent suggestion.
The beauty of this proposal is that it has nothing directly to do with what's been happening: it is simply a spontanious act of goodness. Go and read. And think about helping out. It will be as good for you as it is for them.
Thanks.
What the.....?
The crack young staff at the Hatemonger's Quarterly wants to know the full truth about David Hasselhoff's girdles.
Times like that I wonder "How did I live a complete and full life without the internet?"
The crack young staff at the Hatemonger's Quarterly wants to know the full truth about David Hasselhoff's girdles.
Times like that I wonder "How did I live a complete and full life without the internet?"
What Makes Good Cheese?
No, not the kind you eat. Rather, the kind you like to watch in order to relax after a long, hard day.
I got wondering about this last night as I sat through Kull the Conqueror. About ten minutes in, I found myself thinking wistfully of Conan and even of The Scorpion King. But I couldn't quite figure out why.
Part of it obviously has to do with the lead actors. Now it's almost silly to apply the title "actor" to people like Ahnuld, The Rock and Kevin Sorbo. Rather, the appeal I think is in some kind of personal magnetism on the screen. Ahnuld and The Rock have it. Sorbo does not.
But I thought it had to be more than that. All cheese movies of this sort have certain things in common: Hunky warrior hero, fabulous babe (partly)dressed in slinky costume, force of evil magic that has to be destroyed by some combination of wizardry, feat of arms and sex between the hero and the babe. There are usually one or more quirky side-kicks and always a chief villain with weaponry prowess approximating that of the hero. The sets are also littered with fantastic fantasyland ancient palaces and temples, large numbers of men in arms and secondary babes in harem. The movies also always have cheesy special effects, usually involving lightning, ghouls and/or an eclipse. Oh, and large pitched battles and lots of torchlight. And if the temple/palace collapses in glorious ruin at the end, so much the better.
Okay, you say. Sounds like the thing can write itself. But, as I say, this is not the case. There is a particular formula for successful cheese. The Conan series and Scorpion King got it right. Kull did not. What is the secret ingredient? Is it awareness of how silly the whole thing is? Is it just a question of personalities? Is it the eye-candy? (On this last one, I don't think so. Tia Carrere looked great in Kull. But she couldn't save it.) Perhaps it's an alchemist's concoction of these elements, together with something else I've not identified properly.
I'm sure the experts have some thoughts on this.
UPDATE: My bad - dyslexic switching of the names Kull and Krull threw at least one reader into bewilderment. All fixed now. Sorry 'bout that.
No, not the kind you eat. Rather, the kind you like to watch in order to relax after a long, hard day.
I got wondering about this last night as I sat through Kull the Conqueror. About ten minutes in, I found myself thinking wistfully of Conan and even of The Scorpion King. But I couldn't quite figure out why.
Part of it obviously has to do with the lead actors. Now it's almost silly to apply the title "actor" to people like Ahnuld, The Rock and Kevin Sorbo. Rather, the appeal I think is in some kind of personal magnetism on the screen. Ahnuld and The Rock have it. Sorbo does not.
But I thought it had to be more than that. All cheese movies of this sort have certain things in common: Hunky warrior hero, fabulous babe (partly)dressed in slinky costume, force of evil magic that has to be destroyed by some combination of wizardry, feat of arms and sex between the hero and the babe. There are usually one or more quirky side-kicks and always a chief villain with weaponry prowess approximating that of the hero. The sets are also littered with fantastic fantasyland ancient palaces and temples, large numbers of men in arms and secondary babes in harem. The movies also always have cheesy special effects, usually involving lightning, ghouls and/or an eclipse. Oh, and large pitched battles and lots of torchlight. And if the temple/palace collapses in glorious ruin at the end, so much the better.
Okay, you say. Sounds like the thing can write itself. But, as I say, this is not the case. There is a particular formula for successful cheese. The Conan series and Scorpion King got it right. Kull did not. What is the secret ingredient? Is it awareness of how silly the whole thing is? Is it just a question of personalities? Is it the eye-candy? (On this last one, I don't think so. Tia Carrere looked great in Kull. But she couldn't save it.) Perhaps it's an alchemist's concoction of these elements, together with something else I've not identified properly.
I'm sure the experts have some thoughts on this.
UPDATE: My bad - dyslexic switching of the names Kull and Krull threw at least one reader into bewilderment. All fixed now. Sorry 'bout that.
All hail the Geek Motif!
Robbo's "How are you a geek?" list idea has seem to have taken root. I'm fully expecting the Nigerian fraud-spammers to coopt it soon, which I guess is a definition of success in blog world, right up there with having some joke that you launch wind up on Snopes.com
Anyway, one way of building off that is the reverse of the idea: what are the things you wished you knew too much about, but only have little to no knowledge of? And I don't mean stuff like "the secret of the human soul," or "how really do they make egg rolls?"
Steve's Geek Wish List:
10. Have a reading comprehension of Greek and Latin
9. Being able to play the cello
8. knowing how to really use my power saw
7. knowing less about the Dukes of Hazard and more about the Duke of Marlborough
6. knowing how to actually write a screen play, so that I could actually get past the first page
That's what I have so far. What about you?
Robbo's "How are you a geek?" list idea has seem to have taken root. I'm fully expecting the Nigerian fraud-spammers to coopt it soon, which I guess is a definition of success in blog world, right up there with having some joke that you launch wind up on Snopes.com
Anyway, one way of building off that is the reverse of the idea: what are the things you wished you knew too much about, but only have little to no knowledge of? And I don't mean stuff like "the secret of the human soul," or "how really do they make egg rolls?"
Steve's Geek Wish List:
10. Have a reading comprehension of Greek and Latin
9. Being able to play the cello
8. knowing how to really use my power saw
7. knowing less about the Dukes of Hazard and more about the Duke of Marlborough
6. knowing how to actually write a screen play, so that I could actually get past the first page
That's what I have so far. What about you?
Rocket Jones is pysched
Attention Bad-TV as Movie Conniseurs! Rocket Jones has all the details on the impending Thunderbirds movie. Unlike the TV show, there will be real people instead of puppets.
Which makes my floating of the Electro-Woman and Dyna-Girl motif yesterday all the more prescient.
BTW, I've always thought "Rocket Jones" would be a great name for a Pixies tribute band.
BONUS UPDATE: Still no word on whether Brad Pitt will be playing Edward Casaubon in the action-movie version of "Middlemarch."
Attention Bad-TV as Movie Conniseurs! Rocket Jones has all the details on the impending Thunderbirds movie. Unlike the TV show, there will be real people instead of puppets.
Which makes my floating of the Electro-Woman and Dyna-Girl motif yesterday all the more prescient.
BTW, I've always thought "Rocket Jones" would be a great name for a Pixies tribute band.
BONUS UPDATE: Still no word on whether Brad Pitt will be playing Edward Casaubon in the action-movie version of "Middlemarch."
Nick Berg
I said yesterday that I thought the video murder of Nick Berg was an idiodic move on the part of Al Qaeda, as it served primarily to remind us why we are fighting against these animals to begin with.
Sully nails this point and does so a whoooole lot better than your humble Llama can. Go read.
YIPS from Steve: I had a rather long piece that I did late last night on this subject that I deleted this morning. Not because I thought it was wrong, or wrongheaded, but just because it was one of those things that I needed to expel from my system and, once so done, could be properly blotted out. The line "Have a good laugh tonight, boys, because we are going to kill all of you" was used.
Mighty big talk from basement blogger boy----oooooo!
Anyhoo, the one thing I liked about the post in the light of day was referencing the Warden from "Cool Hand Luke," and his famous line, "What we have here is a failure to communicate." The prison abuse is a PR MOAB for sure, dropped on ourselves. However, let us not underestimate the continuing ability of our opponents to completely eff up strategically: they did it again yesterday, they've been doing it since the fall with their bombings of Muslims. This is not a sign of strength on their part, but rather of weakness. Let's face facts: they declared war on us, they were able to take the war to our mainland, and now, almost three years later, where is their being fought? Where are they safe? Whose minds and hearts are they winning?
So let me repeat: What we have here is a failure to communicate. The prison abuse was us at our worst, but our reaction hopefully is the sign of what we are about. Will people abroad understand it? Right now, what's more important is that WE understand that. Here's the difference, here's why we fight: we televised pictures of the prison abuse to RIGHTLY excoriate and shame the actions of the perpetrators of these deeds: AQ televised their beheading of a civilian American (who just by coincidence was Jewish, no?) to show all that they have to offer: shouting "God Is Great!" while beheading a bound civilian.
I'm going to head out to the garden now and get some dirt under my fingernails.
I said yesterday that I thought the video murder of Nick Berg was an idiodic move on the part of Al Qaeda, as it served primarily to remind us why we are fighting against these animals to begin with.
Sully nails this point and does so a whoooole lot better than your humble Llama can. Go read.
YIPS from Steve: I had a rather long piece that I did late last night on this subject that I deleted this morning. Not because I thought it was wrong, or wrongheaded, but just because it was one of those things that I needed to expel from my system and, once so done, could be properly blotted out. The line "Have a good laugh tonight, boys, because we are going to kill all of you" was used.
Mighty big talk from basement blogger boy----oooooo!
Anyhoo, the one thing I liked about the post in the light of day was referencing the Warden from "Cool Hand Luke," and his famous line, "What we have here is a failure to communicate." The prison abuse is a PR MOAB for sure, dropped on ourselves. However, let us not underestimate the continuing ability of our opponents to completely eff up strategically: they did it again yesterday, they've been doing it since the fall with their bombings of Muslims. This is not a sign of strength on their part, but rather of weakness. Let's face facts: they declared war on us, they were able to take the war to our mainland, and now, almost three years later, where is their being fought? Where are they safe? Whose minds and hearts are they winning?
So let me repeat: What we have here is a failure to communicate. The prison abuse was us at our worst, but our reaction hopefully is the sign of what we are about. Will people abroad understand it? Right now, what's more important is that WE understand that. Here's the difference, here's why we fight: we televised pictures of the prison abuse to RIGHTLY excoriate and shame the actions of the perpetrators of these deeds: AQ televised their beheading of a civilian American (who just by coincidence was Jewish, no?) to show all that they have to offer: shouting "God Is Great!" while beheading a bound civilian.
I'm going to head out to the garden now and get some dirt under my fingernails.
Fog Along The Brandywine
Yesterday I listed among the subjects that I love both meteorology and J.R.R. Tolkien's books. Well stap my vitals, someone has managed to put the two together: Don of Mixolydian Mode links to a discussion of weather in Middle Earth! (Warning - it's a pdf file.) In it, the author digs deep into the kind of weather Tolkien knew from his own experiences and the way he folded it into the narrative. Fascinating.
Funnily enough, the weather image that has always resonated in my mind the most from the books comes the morning when Frodo and his companions leave Buckland and head into the Old Forest. In bed at Crickhollow, Frodo has been dreaming and is jerked out of his sleep by Merry. "Alright, alright. What is it?" he says. "What is it?" replies Merry, "It's four o'clock and very foggy!"
When I was a kid, I went hunting and fishing a lot with my father. This always entailed getting up before dawn and usually (especially on the Texas coast during the summer) involved fog. I can still feel that sensation of getting roused out of a deep sleep in the dark, of hearing people fumbling around getting ready to leave and of staggering out into the end of the night. Odd how these random memories stick.
HT, by the way, to John at TexasBestGrok.
Yesterday I listed among the subjects that I love both meteorology and J.R.R. Tolkien's books. Well stap my vitals, someone has managed to put the two together: Don of Mixolydian Mode links to a discussion of weather in Middle Earth! (Warning - it's a pdf file.) In it, the author digs deep into the kind of weather Tolkien knew from his own experiences and the way he folded it into the narrative. Fascinating.
Funnily enough, the weather image that has always resonated in my mind the most from the books comes the morning when Frodo and his companions leave Buckland and head into the Old Forest. In bed at Crickhollow, Frodo has been dreaming and is jerked out of his sleep by Merry. "Alright, alright. What is it?" he says. "What is it?" replies Merry, "It's four o'clock and very foggy!"
When I was a kid, I went hunting and fishing a lot with my father. This always entailed getting up before dawn and usually (especially on the Texas coast during the summer) involved fog. I can still feel that sensation of getting roused out of a deep sleep in the dark, of hearing people fumbling around getting ready to leave and of staggering out into the end of the night. Odd how these random memories stick.
HT, by the way, to John at TexasBestGrok.
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
Something intelligent about the prison story
From Phil Carter, of course, on the failures of leadership within the 800th MP Brigade.
Here's an interesting profile of the commander, Brigadier General Janis Karpinski, from the St. Petersburg Times last December, the time in which the abuse was going on.
Money quotes: "I love my soldiers," she says. "When I ask if there's a problem or I hear of a problem, I make every effort to resolve it, and if I can't, I tell them why I can't or why the system can't. There's no lip service."
"No matter how you slice it, it's all about leadership. . . . If anyone tells you they're not afraid, they're lying. Everybody is afraid, everybody is concerned, but they have confidence in their training and the commanders reinforce that."
From Phil Carter, of course, on the failures of leadership within the 800th MP Brigade.
Here's an interesting profile of the commander, Brigadier General Janis Karpinski, from the St. Petersburg Times last December, the time in which the abuse was going on.
Money quotes: "I love my soldiers," she says. "When I ask if there's a problem or I hear of a problem, I make every effort to resolve it, and if I can't, I tell them why I can't or why the system can't. There's no lip service."
"No matter how you slice it, it's all about leadership. . . . If anyone tells you they're not afraid, they're lying. Everybody is afraid, everybody is concerned, but they have confidence in their training and the commanders reinforce that."
Are These The WMDs That Launched A Thousand Ships And Burned The Topless Towers of Ilium?
There are some things that are so jaw-droppingly stupid that they leave one in what Douglas Adams once called "a kind of frantic silence." (Oh - add the works of Douglas Adams to my list of "What Makes Me A Geek" below. Thanks.)
One example is the wit and wisdom of one Wolfgang Petersen, director of the (snark) new "block-buster" (snigger) movie Troy, starring (haw) Brad Pitt as (snerk) Achilles. (Aaaa-Hahahahahahaha!!!)
Seriously, tho. Herr Petersen has come up with a startling revelation: That there are parallels between the Trojan War and the Iraqi War!
Says our man:
While stressing that he "did not make this film with the intention of making an anti-American statement", Petersen said the parallels between the Trojan war and the Iraq war became more apparent daily during the filming.
"Just as King Agamemnon waged what was essentially a war of conquest on the ruse of trying to rescue the beautiful Helen from the hands of the Trojans, President George W. Bush concealed his true motives for the invasion of Iraq."
(Sound of frantically silent blogger.)
I mean, where does one begin with this drivel? Or does one simply ignore it? Yes, perhaps that is the way to avoid madness.
Well anyway, it looks like Mr. Petersen's opus may get seriously ignored if the critics have anything to say about it:
Petersen is especially on the defensive in America following a disastrous review Friday of his film.
The Hollywood Reporter, a major movie industry trade paper, said in a damning review that Petersen's movie fails to appeal to crowds who thrilled to "Gladiator" and also fails to appeal to "male audiences conditioned by video-game combat on a movie where soldiers beat on one another with primitive Bronze Age weapons".
Though "inspired" by "The Iliad" by Homer, the film makes no mention of Greek gods, distorting the entire Greek myth, the paper said.
While giving kudos to actor Peter O'Toole as ageing King Priam, the newspaper scathingly says the dialogue is "corny" and, "The battles tend to look like those body pileups in rugby matches, and the drama remains stubbornly unfocused and remote."
The legendary war circa 1200 B.C. ignites when Paris (played by Orlando Bloom) prince of Troy steals away Helen (Diane Kruger), the much younger wife of Menelaus (Brendan Gleeson) from the brutish king of Sparta. Pitt plays Achilles, receiving an arrow to his heel at the climax of the movie.
"The film's more intimate scenes between generals in conflict or families in peril bog down with strained, even corny dialogue and static action," The Hollywood Reporter said.
Oh, and let's hear what Brad (snark) Pitt has to say about his (giggle) character Achilles:
Pitt, 40, who plays Achilles in the epic, said he could identify with the mythical character's passions, both in love and on the battlefield.
"He was a passionate guy," Pitt told a Berlin news conference. "I partly identified with him. I mean, I'd go into battle to defend my principles."
Dude. That is so beautiful. (Snigger, snark, can't help myself -, guffaw!) I am so looking forward to Pitt's take on his upcoming role as Mr. D'Arcy. "He was like cold on the outside cuz he'd been hurt so much. But he was so noble and good on the inside. Dude - that's me!"
HT to Tainted Bill.
There are some things that are so jaw-droppingly stupid that they leave one in what Douglas Adams once called "a kind of frantic silence." (Oh - add the works of Douglas Adams to my list of "What Makes Me A Geek" below. Thanks.)
One example is the wit and wisdom of one Wolfgang Petersen, director of the (snark) new "block-buster" (snigger) movie Troy, starring (haw) Brad Pitt as (snerk) Achilles. (Aaaa-Hahahahahahaha!!!)
Seriously, tho. Herr Petersen has come up with a startling revelation: That there are parallels between the Trojan War and the Iraqi War!
Says our man:
While stressing that he "did not make this film with the intention of making an anti-American statement", Petersen said the parallels between the Trojan war and the Iraq war became more apparent daily during the filming.
"Just as King Agamemnon waged what was essentially a war of conquest on the ruse of trying to rescue the beautiful Helen from the hands of the Trojans, President George W. Bush concealed his true motives for the invasion of Iraq."
(Sound of frantically silent blogger.)
I mean, where does one begin with this drivel? Or does one simply ignore it? Yes, perhaps that is the way to avoid madness.
Well anyway, it looks like Mr. Petersen's opus may get seriously ignored if the critics have anything to say about it:
Petersen is especially on the defensive in America following a disastrous review Friday of his film.
The Hollywood Reporter, a major movie industry trade paper, said in a damning review that Petersen's movie fails to appeal to crowds who thrilled to "Gladiator" and also fails to appeal to "male audiences conditioned by video-game combat on a movie where soldiers beat on one another with primitive Bronze Age weapons".
Though "inspired" by "The Iliad" by Homer, the film makes no mention of Greek gods, distorting the entire Greek myth, the paper said.
While giving kudos to actor Peter O'Toole as ageing King Priam, the newspaper scathingly says the dialogue is "corny" and, "The battles tend to look like those body pileups in rugby matches, and the drama remains stubbornly unfocused and remote."
The legendary war circa 1200 B.C. ignites when Paris (played by Orlando Bloom) prince of Troy steals away Helen (Diane Kruger), the much younger wife of Menelaus (Brendan Gleeson) from the brutish king of Sparta. Pitt plays Achilles, receiving an arrow to his heel at the climax of the movie.
"The film's more intimate scenes between generals in conflict or families in peril bog down with strained, even corny dialogue and static action," The Hollywood Reporter said.
Oh, and let's hear what Brad (snark) Pitt has to say about his (giggle) character Achilles:
Pitt, 40, who plays Achilles in the epic, said he could identify with the mythical character's passions, both in love and on the battlefield.
"He was a passionate guy," Pitt told a Berlin news conference. "I partly identified with him. I mean, I'd go into battle to defend my principles."
Dude. That is so beautiful. (Snigger, snark, can't help myself -, guffaw!) I am so looking forward to Pitt's take on his upcoming role as Mr. D'Arcy. "He was like cold on the outside cuz he'd been hurt so much. But he was so noble and good on the inside. Dude - that's me!"
HT to Tainted Bill.
Gratuitous Commuter Blogging
The temperature in Your Nation's Capital is up around 90 or so this week, making this the first real taste of summer.
I've always loathed hot weather. Usually by the end of winter, I am sick of the cold and looking forward to the heat, but it always turns out to be a one night stand - after the first really hot day, I'm already looking forward to this fall.
The worst part of these steamy days is the commute home. You see, I don't have any A/C in my Wrangler - this is deliberate, by the bye, because I think air-conditioning in a convertible is preposterously antithetical - so I wind up getting pretty over-heated as I crawl down Constitution Ave for 14 blocks or so. But so long as the top is up, the sides are off and I have a bottle of water within reach, it is survivable.
The tricky part sometimes is judging the afternoon thunderstorms. Today there are a few in the area, but they're not really moving anywhere, so probably won't present a problem. The hard ones are the squalls that spring up around midday in Ohio and Pennsylvania and roll through D.C. about the time I'm trying to get home. Two weeks ago, with the top down, I beat a thunderstorm to my house literally by about 90 seconds. (Do I live an exciting life, or what?)
Speaking of driving, as much as I love classical music, I almost never listen to it in the car - too noisy to hear things properly. Instead, I either listen to the radio or pop in one of my retro CD's. Recently, I dug up the Talking Heads' More Songs About Buildings and Food. This was a bit of a dicey choice. You see, one time when I was headed from Hilton Head back to law school in beautiful Metro-Lex Virginia, this album was the only working cassette tape I had in the car. (And when you're rolling up I-26 to I-77 to I-81, there's not a whole lot by way of broadcast radio to choose from.) Just to see what would happen, I played the tape over and over and over again as long as I could stand it.
Well, it's about a seven and a half hour drive. I didn't listen to the thing the entire time, but I did replay it quite a bit. By the time I got back to school, I was almost literally twitching.
Since then, I had not been able to listen to this album without some serious flashback problems (much the same way I could not drink vodka for a long time after a particularly messy freshman weekend). But on this latest try, I found I was able to climb back on the horse with no ill effect. And in fact, I find jamming the long guitar bit at the end of "Found A Job" on the stick-shift to be quite a bit of fun.
So if you see me, you'll understand.
The temperature in Your Nation's Capital is up around 90 or so this week, making this the first real taste of summer.
I've always loathed hot weather. Usually by the end of winter, I am sick of the cold and looking forward to the heat, but it always turns out to be a one night stand - after the first really hot day, I'm already looking forward to this fall.
The worst part of these steamy days is the commute home. You see, I don't have any A/C in my Wrangler - this is deliberate, by the bye, because I think air-conditioning in a convertible is preposterously antithetical - so I wind up getting pretty over-heated as I crawl down Constitution Ave for 14 blocks or so. But so long as the top is up, the sides are off and I have a bottle of water within reach, it is survivable.
The tricky part sometimes is judging the afternoon thunderstorms. Today there are a few in the area, but they're not really moving anywhere, so probably won't present a problem. The hard ones are the squalls that spring up around midday in Ohio and Pennsylvania and roll through D.C. about the time I'm trying to get home. Two weeks ago, with the top down, I beat a thunderstorm to my house literally by about 90 seconds. (Do I live an exciting life, or what?)
Speaking of driving, as much as I love classical music, I almost never listen to it in the car - too noisy to hear things properly. Instead, I either listen to the radio or pop in one of my retro CD's. Recently, I dug up the Talking Heads' More Songs About Buildings and Food. This was a bit of a dicey choice. You see, one time when I was headed from Hilton Head back to law school in beautiful Metro-Lex Virginia, this album was the only working cassette tape I had in the car. (And when you're rolling up I-26 to I-77 to I-81, there's not a whole lot by way of broadcast radio to choose from.) Just to see what would happen, I played the tape over and over and over again as long as I could stand it.
Well, it's about a seven and a half hour drive. I didn't listen to the thing the entire time, but I did replay it quite a bit. By the time I got back to school, I was almost literally twitching.
Since then, I had not been able to listen to this album without some serious flashback problems (much the same way I could not drink vodka for a long time after a particularly messy freshman weekend). But on this latest try, I found I was able to climb back on the horse with no ill effect. And in fact, I find jamming the long guitar bit at the end of "Found A Job" on the stick-shift to be quite a bit of fun.
So if you see me, you'll understand.
The Llamabutchers Present Their Hawk-Babe T-Shirt Contest Entry
Well, I'm sure our long-time readers saw this coming---we've been outfront from minute one to expose Frank J.'s monkey-loving, brie-eating, son of Chirac ways when the Hawk Babe T-Shirt contest was cruelly and maliciously stolen away from Willow. We even churned the butter so to speak by suggesting the whole Star Trek Com Badge angle.
However....
We at the Llamabutchers have only one true Hawk Babe, and with her an assistant Hawk Babe, and so our entry in the Hawk Babe T-Shirt contest is now out in the public domain:
Well, I'm sure our long-time readers saw this coming---we've been outfront from minute one to expose Frank J.'s monkey-loving, brie-eating, son of Chirac ways when the Hawk Babe T-Shirt contest was cruelly and maliciously stolen away from Willow. We even churned the butter so to speak by suggesting the whole Star Trek Com Badge angle.
However....
We at the Llamabutchers have only one true Hawk Babe, and with her an assistant Hawk Babe, and so our entry in the Hawk Babe T-Shirt contest is now out in the public domain:
What Makes You A Geek?
I am going to have my very first try at starting a new blog meme. (Please play along and don't embarrass me by leaving this post all by its lonesome with only the sound of a cricket to keep it company! And don't tell me someone else has done this before. I don't care.)
Anyhoo.
Sheila has a long post celebrating Geekdome. Her definition:
What "geek" seems to mean in this context is "I am incredibly passionate about something rather trivial, and I can tell you every teeny detail about that subject, and I'm kind of embarrassed at how much I know ... and yet ... here goes..."
Among her areas of geekspertice: L.M. Montgomery, Charles Manson and Marilyn Monroe.
Now I've been reading Sheila's blog long enough to have a very healthy respect for her opinions. So here and now I am going to come out of the geek closet and list a few things about which I am pretty passionate, about which I know at least slightly more than the average person and about which I am constantly in fear of talking too much.
Ready? Here we go:
Robert The Llama Butcher's Top Ten Geek Subjects
10. Meteorology
9. Gardening
8. The Chronicles of Narnia
7. Monty Python
6. Fawlty Towers
5. The Lord of the Rings (books, not movies)
4. The works of Patrick O'Brian
3. The Battle of Gettysburg
2. Haydn and Mozart
1. The works of P.G. Wodehouse
Ah! I feel so liberated now.
So what makes YOU a geek?
WELL, WELL, WELL.... I asked my dear one about this, and she said the difficulty would be limiting it to ten things....Ha! Ha! What a kidder!
So it's ten things you know way too much about, and unlike, say, the booking procedures for the Middletown, CT. police department, these are things that you actually like that you know, and while of little to no interest to 99.99% of the population, you might by some miracle find someone who actually does. So here goes:
10. Whaling (I spent four years working at Mystic Seaport in the summers during college)
9. James Madison (How bad? How about trying to track down his reading lists from his last two years at Princeton, and I own 14 different versions of The Federalist. I'd add the Hamilton/Burr duel to this list as well).
8. Woodrow Wilson (Lived in 31 West Range while at UVA, which was Wilson's room in law school--we had a seance with a ouji board one night, and if you get me liquored up enough some time I'll tell you what we found out)
7. James T. Kirk (yeah, like THAT'S a surprise)
6. The cartoons of Chuck Jones
5. The Patrick O'Brian novels (except for the last 4 which sucked)
4. The entire corpus of "crackerploitation" movies/tv shows from the 1970s, from Walking Tall and Tank, through the whole Bandit oevre, BJ & the Bear, and of course the Dukes of Hazzard).
3. The biographies of William Manchester. (I got American Caesar in 7th grade as a gift and was hooked, but the second volume of his Churchill bio is perhaps the best book in the English language that does not begin with "In the beginning...."
2. All things Helen Hunt.
And of course, number one is no surprise to the regulars:
1. All things Kurt Russell.
What didn't make the cut? Tomato gardening, all things Stonewall Jackson (yes, I have made the pilgrimage to where the arm is buried), all things Joshua Lawrence Chamberlin, the Boston Celtics of the 1980s, the history of American Indian law, the movies of the Cusacks (John, and Joan....MMMMMMMMMM, Joan!) and, of course, the Veggie Tales songs.
So that's just me, Mr. Vegas.
I am going to have my very first try at starting a new blog meme. (Please play along and don't embarrass me by leaving this post all by its lonesome with only the sound of a cricket to keep it company! And don't tell me someone else has done this before. I don't care.)
Anyhoo.
Sheila has a long post celebrating Geekdome. Her definition:
What "geek" seems to mean in this context is "I am incredibly passionate about something rather trivial, and I can tell you every teeny detail about that subject, and I'm kind of embarrassed at how much I know ... and yet ... here goes..."
Among her areas of geekspertice: L.M. Montgomery, Charles Manson and Marilyn Monroe.
Now I've been reading Sheila's blog long enough to have a very healthy respect for her opinions. So here and now I am going to come out of the geek closet and list a few things about which I am pretty passionate, about which I know at least slightly more than the average person and about which I am constantly in fear of talking too much.
Ready? Here we go:
Robert The Llama Butcher's Top Ten Geek Subjects
10. Meteorology
9. Gardening
8. The Chronicles of Narnia
7. Monty Python
6. Fawlty Towers
5. The Lord of the Rings (books, not movies)
4. The works of Patrick O'Brian
3. The Battle of Gettysburg
2. Haydn and Mozart
1. The works of P.G. Wodehouse
Ah! I feel so liberated now.
So what makes YOU a geek?
WELL, WELL, WELL.... I asked my dear one about this, and she said the difficulty would be limiting it to ten things....Ha! Ha! What a kidder!
So it's ten things you know way too much about, and unlike, say, the booking procedures for the Middletown, CT. police department, these are things that you actually like that you know, and while of little to no interest to 99.99% of the population, you might by some miracle find someone who actually does. So here goes:
10. Whaling (I spent four years working at Mystic Seaport in the summers during college)
9. James Madison (How bad? How about trying to track down his reading lists from his last two years at Princeton, and I own 14 different versions of The Federalist. I'd add the Hamilton/Burr duel to this list as well).
8. Woodrow Wilson (Lived in 31 West Range while at UVA, which was Wilson's room in law school--we had a seance with a ouji board one night, and if you get me liquored up enough some time I'll tell you what we found out)
7. James T. Kirk (yeah, like THAT'S a surprise)
6. The cartoons of Chuck Jones
5. The Patrick O'Brian novels (except for the last 4 which sucked)
4. The entire corpus of "crackerploitation" movies/tv shows from the 1970s, from Walking Tall and Tank, through the whole Bandit oevre, BJ & the Bear, and of course the Dukes of Hazzard).
3. The biographies of William Manchester. (I got American Caesar in 7th grade as a gift and was hooked, but the second volume of his Churchill bio is perhaps the best book in the English language that does not begin with "In the beginning...."
2. All things Helen Hunt.
And of course, number one is no surprise to the regulars:
1. All things Kurt Russell.
What didn't make the cut? Tomato gardening, all things Stonewall Jackson (yes, I have made the pilgrimage to where the arm is buried), all things Joshua Lawrence Chamberlin, the Boston Celtics of the 1980s, the history of American Indian law, the movies of the Cusacks (John, and Joan....MMMMMMMMMM, Joan!) and, of course, the Veggie Tales songs.
So that's just me, Mr. Vegas.
Idiots
If this story about the alleged videotaped beheading of an American prisoner in revenge for the Iraqi prison abuses is for real, Al Qaeda has just blown it.
It's one thing for them to sit back and bask as Americans are urged by the Wormtongues of the media and the moonbats to cower and doubt and question our own worth and the legitimacy of our whole war effort.
It's something else entirely when they murder an American in cold blood and on film in the name of revenge. Do they believe this is going to make Americans feel more doubtful, more guilty or more timid?
Nope. We don't work that way. If the film is legit and folks in this country see it, collective self-doubt is going to be replaced by collective fury in a big hurry. And all the moonbat blathering in the world won't prevent that fury from being aimed back at Al Qaeda and not at ourselves.
It's cold-blooded acts like these that remind Americans why we went to war in the first place.
Via Drudge.
UPDATE: Some of Stephen Green's commenters say the same thing. Let's see if this story gains any traction.
And Llama Yips! to Sen. Inhofe for attempting, however inarticulately, to break Wormtongue's spell in the Senate.
MORE: Ramesh isn't happy about the Senator's remarks. Don't misunderstand me - I've said numerous times that the guard pukes who did this need to pay for it. What I think Inhofe was trying to get at was the way people are trying to pile on and use the incident to tar all of us. I reject that notion utterly.
STILL MORE: Bill gets it.
If this story about the alleged videotaped beheading of an American prisoner in revenge for the Iraqi prison abuses is for real, Al Qaeda has just blown it.
It's one thing for them to sit back and bask as Americans are urged by the Wormtongues of the media and the moonbats to cower and doubt and question our own worth and the legitimacy of our whole war effort.
It's something else entirely when they murder an American in cold blood and on film in the name of revenge. Do they believe this is going to make Americans feel more doubtful, more guilty or more timid?
Nope. We don't work that way. If the film is legit and folks in this country see it, collective self-doubt is going to be replaced by collective fury in a big hurry. And all the moonbat blathering in the world won't prevent that fury from being aimed back at Al Qaeda and not at ourselves.
It's cold-blooded acts like these that remind Americans why we went to war in the first place.
Via Drudge.
UPDATE: Some of Stephen Green's commenters say the same thing. Let's see if this story gains any traction.
And Llama Yips! to Sen. Inhofe for attempting, however inarticulately, to break Wormtongue's spell in the Senate.
MORE: Ramesh isn't happy about the Senator's remarks. Don't misunderstand me - I've said numerous times that the guard pukes who did this need to pay for it. What I think Inhofe was trying to get at was the way people are trying to pile on and use the incident to tar all of us. I reject that notion utterly.
STILL MORE: Bill gets it.
Snazzy
Go check out the New England Republican's updated look. Good looks to go along with good insights.
Go check out the New England Republican's updated look. Good looks to go along with good insights.
Now THERE'S a choice!
The Viking Pundit links to the Boston Globe, which asks whether Kerry will fight like "Tyson or the Terminator?"
Let me see, that's the choice between the nut-job ear-biter, or the amazing almost life-like machine that gets its ass kicked by a Bob's Big Boy waitress in T1 and by a 12 year old boy in T2? Hmmm...the Terminator does have Kerry's familiarity with free-fire zones though.
I guess Monty Python's French Knight wasn't an option....
The Viking Pundit links to the Boston Globe, which asks whether Kerry will fight like "Tyson or the Terminator?"
Let me see, that's the choice between the nut-job ear-biter, or the amazing almost life-like machine that gets its ass kicked by a Bob's Big Boy waitress in T1 and by a 12 year old boy in T2? Hmmm...the Terminator does have Kerry's familiarity with free-fire zones though.
I guess Monty Python's French Knight wasn't an option....
Whoo-Hooo!! Cat Fight!!
Our good pal Willow, in partnership with Kevin, has become the Official Wizbang T-Shirt Babe!
Under her newly-assumed duties, Willow will model T-shirts for sale displaying choice campaign themes generated by the ever-popular Kerry Sloganator.
But that's not all! No! This all comes about because of the vile partisan chicanery that recently lead to the selection of Sarah K as Frank J's IMAO T-Shirt Babe. Rather than pulling some Gorebot-like legal whining, Willow is instead taking it to the market where, together with Kevin, we confidently predict she'll wipe the floor with Sarah and Frank. (And Willow did say something about lime jello - we're going to hold her to that.)
So take that, Frank J! We all know whose side you're on, eh, mon ami?
This is gonna be good.....
UPDATE: The Blogsphere's Jerry Lewis takes up the gauntlet.
NOW THE TRUTH CAN BE TOLD! We've been holding back awaiting Wizbang's big announcement, but we have THE ORIGINAL pic submitted by Willow before that nefarious Mime-loving, Chardonnay-swilling, illegitimate son of Jacques Chirac edited out the good stuff in order to swing the contest to one of his Franco-phone buddies.
MESSAGE TO FRANK J: I think the phrase you were going for, in your native tongue, is "a bon chat, bon rat."
UPDATE DEUX: Further proof of the evil that is Frank J. Here's a surveilance picture snapped by the military intelligence division of Llamabutcher Industries clearly showing Frank J. and his "posse" on their way to a weekend retreat with Koffi Anan...
Our good pal Willow, in partnership with Kevin, has become the Official Wizbang T-Shirt Babe!
Under her newly-assumed duties, Willow will model T-shirts for sale displaying choice campaign themes generated by the ever-popular Kerry Sloganator.
But that's not all! No! This all comes about because of the vile partisan chicanery that recently lead to the selection of Sarah K as Frank J's IMAO T-Shirt Babe. Rather than pulling some Gorebot-like legal whining, Willow is instead taking it to the market where, together with Kevin, we confidently predict she'll wipe the floor with Sarah and Frank. (And Willow did say something about lime jello - we're going to hold her to that.)
So take that, Frank J! We all know whose side you're on, eh, mon ami?
This is gonna be good.....
UPDATE: The Blogsphere's Jerry Lewis takes up the gauntlet.
NOW THE TRUTH CAN BE TOLD! We've been holding back awaiting Wizbang's big announcement, but we have THE ORIGINAL pic submitted by Willow before that nefarious Mime-loving, Chardonnay-swilling, illegitimate son of Jacques Chirac edited out the good stuff in order to swing the contest to one of his Franco-phone buddies.
MESSAGE TO FRANK J: I think the phrase you were going for, in your native tongue, is "a bon chat, bon rat."
UPDATE DEUX: Further proof of the evil that is Frank J. Here's a surveilance picture snapped by the military intelligence division of Llamabutcher Industries clearly showing Frank J. and his "posse" on their way to a weekend retreat with Koffi Anan...
What's possibly worse than cat blogging?
Um, vegetable garden blogging. Thanks, Ted--now I have to truck out to the backyard with the camera.
BTW--nice hostas!
YIPS! from Robbo - I saw Ted's pics too. Unfortunately, my immediate response was to curse having to sit in a damned office all day while I could be out fiddling with my own little plot. Fortunately, I don't have a camera....
Um, vegetable garden blogging. Thanks, Ted--now I have to truck out to the backyard with the camera.
BTW--nice hostas!
YIPS! from Robbo - I saw Ted's pics too. Unfortunately, my immediate response was to curse having to sit in a damned office all day while I could be out fiddling with my own little plot. Fortunately, I don't have a camera....
Llama Editorial Policy Update
From now on, when Steve-O screws up the margins, I get to Rochambeau him Cartman-style to determine who has to fix them.
That is all.
From now on, when Steve-O screws up the margins, I get to Rochambeau him Cartman-style to determine who has to fix them.
That is all.
OH-kaaay.....
Sheila is running another one of her contests, and let's just say this one might have to wait until after work for you office dwellers out there.
My vote: I'm with Emily on this one and voting for Chris Farley....
Sheila is running another one of her contests, and let's just say this one might have to wait until after work for you office dwellers out there.
My vote: I'm with Emily on this one and voting for Chris Farley....
Slightly Spooky Coincidence
Still brooding about the adolescent self-indulgence that has modern society so firmly in its grasp, I stumbled quite by accident across this terrific sermon by Dr. William Willimon, Dean of the Duke University Chapel. In fact, the arrogance and moral superiority of modern academics about which Dr. Willimon speaks is simply another manifestation of the self-indulgence about which I was brooding.
I feel a whole lot better for reading it. You should, too. No, I'm not an Evangelical.
HT to Donald Sensing, who has more to say about politics and the Bible as well.
UPDATE: Actually, this all rather ties into the vicious Lefty attacks coming out of the prison abuse business, about which I have been ranting for the past couple days. Remember that the flip-side of self-indulgence is self-loathing. Which is exactly the meme the moonbats are attempting to pursue. Podhoretz has a fresh example.
Still brooding about the adolescent self-indulgence that has modern society so firmly in its grasp, I stumbled quite by accident across this terrific sermon by Dr. William Willimon, Dean of the Duke University Chapel. In fact, the arrogance and moral superiority of modern academics about which Dr. Willimon speaks is simply another manifestation of the self-indulgence about which I was brooding.
I feel a whole lot better for reading it. You should, too. No, I'm not an Evangelical.
HT to Donald Sensing, who has more to say about politics and the Bible as well.
UPDATE: Actually, this all rather ties into the vicious Lefty attacks coming out of the prison abuse business, about which I have been ranting for the past couple days. Remember that the flip-side of self-indulgence is self-loathing. Which is exactly the meme the moonbats are attempting to pursue. Podhoretz has a fresh example.
New, Improved Blogger Update
I notice again this morning that Blogger is posting stuff out of sequence. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that there are two of us llamas. Perhaps Steve-O was given a secret password so that his posts would always trump mine. Bastard.
All fooling aside, has anybody else noticed this phenomenon?
I notice again this morning that Blogger is posting stuff out of sequence. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that there are two of us llamas. Perhaps Steve-O was given a secret password so that his posts would always trump mine. Bastard.
All fooling aside, has anybody else noticed this phenomenon?
Nixon time!
Pep from Truly Bad Films asked yesterday in the comments to my angst-filled post on the prison issue something along the lines of when will this war stop being prosecuted as if Katie Couric where wiser than Sun-Tzu? To my concern about us "going Roman," he pined for us going a little Nixon on our enemies, which was followed up by a challenge to pshop "What would Nixon do?" as a means to reek havoc not only on the far left, but also on Pep's dear neighbor Reverend Falwell.
So, Pep, this one's for you:
UPDATE: Michele at A Small Victory finds the right tone I was reaching for but didn't attain yesterday.
UPDATE DEUX: Just in the name of "balance" here's a post of Richard Nixon's latest torture in in that special Quaker-Warmonger section of hell: Nixon, possessed by Mick Jagger's tongue, being forced to watch John Kerry being inagurated president, with Pat looking on, smiling.
Title: "For the love of God, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
UPDATE TROIS: Yes, I'll take crap from this but I've always like Joe Lieberman. I voted for him when I lived in Connecticut in 1988 (but obviously not for VP in 2000); I've always thought him to be a pretty decent guy. Here's why:
HT to Cold Fury, who has the full story. This is after Rumsfeld was being lectured on atrocities by a former (and how do we know he's a former Klansman?) Robert Byrd.
Pep from Truly Bad Films asked yesterday in the comments to my angst-filled post on the prison issue something along the lines of when will this war stop being prosecuted as if Katie Couric where wiser than Sun-Tzu? To my concern about us "going Roman," he pined for us going a little Nixon on our enemies, which was followed up by a challenge to pshop "What would Nixon do?" as a means to reek havoc not only on the far left, but also on Pep's dear neighbor Reverend Falwell.
So, Pep, this one's for you:
UPDATE: Michele at A Small Victory finds the right tone I was reaching for but didn't attain yesterday.
UPDATE DEUX: Just in the name of "balance" here's a post of Richard Nixon's latest torture in in that special Quaker-Warmonger section of hell: Nixon, possessed by Mick Jagger's tongue, being forced to watch John Kerry being inagurated president, with Pat looking on, smiling.
Title: "For the love of God, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
UPDATE TROIS: Yes, I'll take crap from this but I've always like Joe Lieberman. I voted for him when I lived in Connecticut in 1988 (but obviously not for VP in 2000); I've always thought him to be a pretty decent guy. Here's why:
Mr. Secretary, the behavior by Americans at the prison in Iraq is, as we all acknowledge, immoral, intolerable and un-American. It deserves the apology that you have given today and that have been given by others in high positions in our government and our military.
I cannot help but say, however, that those who were responsible for killing 3,000 Americans on September 11th, 2001, never apologized. Those who have killed hundreds of Americans in uniform in Iraq working to liberate Iraq and protect our security have never apologized.
And those who murdered and burned and humiliated four Americans in Fallujah a while ago never received an apology from anybody.
So it’s part of – wrongs occurred here, by the people in those pictures and perhaps by people up the chain of command.
But Americans are different. That’s why we’re outraged by this. That’s why the apologies were due.
And that’s why I hope as we go about this investigation, we do it in a way that does not dishonor the hundreds of thousands of Americans in uniform who are a lot more like Pat Tillman and Americans that are not know, like Army National Guard Sergeant Felix Del Greco of Simsbury, Connecticut, who was killed in action a few weeks ago; that we not dishonor their service or discredit the cause that brought us to send them to Iraq, because it remains one that is just and necessary.
HT to Cold Fury, who has the full story. This is after Rumsfeld was being lectured on atrocities by a former (and how do we know he's a former Klansman?) Robert Byrd.
Signs of the Coming Apocalypse
Happy Meals for adults? This is so wrong on so many levels. Have we really reached the point where a fast-food chain has to package a meal in a silly looking box and even include a toy just to get grown ups to eat their damned vegetables? What the hell is the matter with people?
What a bizarre society we've become! All around are examples of adults hell-bent on recapturing their youth and shedding any personal responsibility for their own actions. At the same time, we encourage kids barely out of toddlerhood to plunge full-tilt into a pop culture riddled with sex and violence. (I recently saw a little girl about my own oldest's age wearing a pair of short shorts with the word "tasty" plastered across the backside. And don't get me started on rap music and body piercings.) Call it Peter Pan Nation - a world of ageless adolescence. Aaaaand (warning: sweeping generalization approaching) it's all the goddam Baby Boomers' fault.
I know what you're thinking: "Jim - this is old news." Well, maybe. But that doesn't make it any less important to stand up and shout "Stop!" once in a while.
Happy Meals for adults? This is so wrong on so many levels. Have we really reached the point where a fast-food chain has to package a meal in a silly looking box and even include a toy just to get grown ups to eat their damned vegetables? What the hell is the matter with people?
What a bizarre society we've become! All around are examples of adults hell-bent on recapturing their youth and shedding any personal responsibility for their own actions. At the same time, we encourage kids barely out of toddlerhood to plunge full-tilt into a pop culture riddled with sex and violence. (I recently saw a little girl about my own oldest's age wearing a pair of short shorts with the word "tasty" plastered across the backside. And don't get me started on rap music and body piercings.) Call it Peter Pan Nation - a world of ageless adolescence. Aaaaand (warning: sweeping generalization approaching) it's all the goddam Baby Boomers' fault.
I know what you're thinking: "Jim - this is old news." Well, maybe. But that doesn't make it any less important to stand up and shout "Stop!" once in a while.
Getting in touch with your inner Pep
Pep, the periperatic savant of Truly Bad Films, has challenged me to pshop up a "Get in Touch With Your Inner Nixon" theme---fair enough, something to do while waiting for the rototiller to show up. But in Pep's honor, I give you THIS genius quiz from our new pals the crack young staff at the Hatemonger's Quarterly, with the theme to determine exactly how patriotic you are. Be forewarned: Loverboy, the movies of Rick Moranis, and Heather Locklear's cabala commentary are referenced.
Hat tip to VodkaPundit.
WAIT! DON'T ORDER NOW!
Bonus linkage: The Hatemongers on Feminist Media Studies, and Edward Said: The Musical! And don't be offended Robbo---they also have a post on Karoke and Huey Lewis and the News. You've been outed, buddy.
YIPS! from Robbo - Dude, that is so seven days ago!
UPDATE DEUX: The New England Republican has a good summary of the "patriotism as political card" game being played. Sounds to me like the "war and oil" issue, doesn't it Koffi?
Pep, the periperatic savant of Truly Bad Films, has challenged me to pshop up a "Get in Touch With Your Inner Nixon" theme---fair enough, something to do while waiting for the rototiller to show up. But in Pep's honor, I give you THIS genius quiz from our new pals the crack young staff at the Hatemonger's Quarterly, with the theme to determine exactly how patriotic you are. Be forewarned: Loverboy, the movies of Rick Moranis, and Heather Locklear's cabala commentary are referenced.
Hat tip to VodkaPundit.
WAIT! DON'T ORDER NOW!
Bonus linkage: The Hatemongers on Feminist Media Studies, and Edward Said: The Musical! And don't be offended Robbo---they also have a post on Karoke and Huey Lewis and the News. You've been outed, buddy.
YIPS! from Robbo - Dude, that is so seven days ago!
UPDATE DEUX: The New England Republican has a good summary of the "patriotism as political card" game being played. Sounds to me like the "war and oil" issue, doesn't it Koffi?
Monday, May 10, 2004
Asshat, or ass-hate?
Real nice department: protestors in Gaza mad about US treatment of Jihadi prisoners in Iraq decided to retaliate by desecrating graves in the Allied WW1 cemetary in Gaza.
Let's hear it from the left, all together now, "Legitimate form of dissent against American Imperialism."
Of course, one way of looking at it is that the only Americans or Brits the jihadis are not afraid of at the moment are the ones who've been dead for 80+ years...
HT to Michele
Real nice department: protestors in Gaza mad about US treatment of Jihadi prisoners in Iraq decided to retaliate by desecrating graves in the Allied WW1 cemetary in Gaza.
Let's hear it from the left, all together now, "Legitimate form of dissent against American Imperialism."
Of course, one way of looking at it is that the only Americans or Brits the jihadis are not afraid of at the moment are the ones who've been dead for 80+ years...
HT to Michele
WE HAVE A WINNER!
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AND you were our 9,000th visitor! Contact us via the TastyBits (TM) Mail Sack to collect your fabulous one-day supply of Rice-a-Roni, the San Francisco Treat!
You visited our site at 5:25 pm, EDT....
Your ISP is CoxFiber.....
AND you were our 9,000th visitor! Contact us via the TastyBits (TM) Mail Sack to collect your fabulous one-day supply of Rice-a-Roni, the San Francisco Treat!
A brisk fisking to get the blood flowing again
Felix Rohatyn has a provocative piece in today's International Herald Tribune entitled "A Fresh Atlantic Alliance" which is good, as it should piss off in equal measures Americans and Europeans of the left and right.
The harsh news for Americans, to Rohatyn, is that, well, Europeans don't like us. Our interests as well as our societies have diverged since 1989, in pretty stark economic, demographic, and technological means.
I have no issue with his statement about our need to recognize that public opinion in many parts of Europe is against our policy: however, what Mr. Rohatyn needs to acknowledge is that public opinion in America is deeply against that of many of the policies of the Franco-German areas as it pertains to appeasement of dictatorships. And the statements about our desire to be free from foreign constraints is disingenuous at best: these were treaties and agreements pursued by the administration he served in with the full knowledge that they would never be supported or ratified domestically. Cynical at best, this was a policy pursued to engage commitments that they knew they would not have to be bound by or to work within.
One interesting little thing: our deep divide over...Religion. Yes, we're in favor of free exercise. Get over it.
Yep. And maybe when AQ successfully flies a plane into Notre Dame the French will have such a wake up call to. No, it would be our fault somehow...
America has always been more religious, conservative, and patriotic than Europe---that was the freaking point that most of our ancestor's left either willingly or at the point of a bayonet over. Always has been.
Having thousands of your citizens massacred on a bright, cloudless, sunny late summer day has a way of concentrating your attention like that, Felix.
And the Atlantic partnership served America did serve America's interests well for fifty years: but let us also forget that our presence provided the Europeans one of the longest periods of peace since the collapse of Rome. The Atlantic Alliance was in America's interest, but it was also in Europe's interest as well. It's something that both sides need to work on, not just us simplistic Americans who need to learn how to use manners, shut up, and pay for whatever the President of France wants.
As for Europe's view of America, opinion polls in one country after another show a continued high level of opposition to U.S. policies, with the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and the war in Iraq at the head of the list. The terrorist attacks in Spain seem to have aggravated this attitude. Just as the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, created a "New America," however, it is possible that the Madrid attacks of March 11, 2004, will create a "New Europe," with unforeseeable results. Furthermore, European opinion is now reinforced by the emotions expressed by Americans, appalled at the unacceptable abuses against Iraqi prisoners, which have made an indelible stain on the image of our country.
I guess these would be the same countries with rising tides of violence against Jews---"oh, if only Hitler had finished the job!" seems to be the answer for ANSWER.
And now for the part to piss off the European audience and the American left:
What's interesting about this is the prospect that the reason American and European interests not overlapping as they once did is that America is becoming less European. I'm not sure about this: I think it's "Europe" (ie the central Axis of France, Germany, and Belgium) that is abandoning the ideas that we, together with the Brits, seek to defend--classical liberalism, with its belief in individual rights, freedom of religion, strong property rights, and national sovereignty. It's the statist, quasi-socialist bureaucracy of the EU that is moving away from these traditional European ideas. Or the problem is, these are not traditional European ideas at all, but rather Anglo-Saxon ones. I'm not sure. But as to the emerging role of India and China (but not Russia, and it remains to be seen how much intellectual capital--ie software and the like--that China is really going to be able to produce for a world market; I wouldn't bet on it any time soon), that's just reality.
Or, with its declining demographics, its stagnant economies, its lack of a military force structure capable of being deployed on its own, the third question is will Europe even matter in 50 years? The answer to that question is not assured.
"New Europe"......? Where?
Yet, to quote Sting, they "want their MTV." And their Pepsi, and Levi's, and whatever else we produce. And wanting their sovereignty and identity aggressively protected--isn't that what we are always accused of? That's the basis of our stands regarding the ICJ etc.
Hence the significance of the ticking demographic bomb.
As Jon Lovitz used to say, "Yeah, THAT'S the ticket!" French leadership of NATO with those horrible Americans subjugated to a "proper" command structure, plus all the American planes and ships so that the French military could actually leave port. Yeah.
As well as perhaps a timely signal to the French about the dangers and costs of appeasement....
All decent ideas, except the tradezone: not. gonna. happen. Although, I think we should discuss the idea about opening the spigot in our immigration laws to allow highly trained workers to gain residency status in the US immediately. Nothing like a little brain drain threat to clarify our position.
To be perfectly honest, we'd love the help. But this time you have to earn it, Chucky. That means holding up your end of the load, even when it's dirty and causes wrinkles on your designer suit.
Remaining strongly linked in the Atlantic partnership is important to our future: but it's a hell of a lot MORE important for the Europeans than it is for us.
Felix Rohatyn has a provocative piece in today's International Herald Tribune entitled "A Fresh Atlantic Alliance" which is good, as it should piss off in equal measures Americans and Europeans of the left and right.
The harsh news for Americans, to Rohatyn, is that, well, Europeans don't like us. Our interests as well as our societies have diverged since 1989, in pretty stark economic, demographic, and technological means.
I am not sure that I can differentiate, as Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld has, between the "Old Europe," which opposed America on Iraq, and a "New Europe," which supported America; Americans must recognize that public opinion in the vast majority of Europe is heavily opposed to U.S. policies. But I strongly believe that a "New America" has replaced the "Old America" and that this will be a more and more important factor in America's perspective on the construction of Europe, and on the world.
Even before the Sept. 11 attacks, the Bush administration's views on a variety of policy issues differed significantly from those of Europe. On the Kyoto Protocol; on the International Court of Justice; on the Antiballistic Missile Treaty; on the role of the United Nations and on many other issues, the administration wanted to be free of international constraints. At the same time, from the death penalty to pre-emptive war, from religion to genetic foods, a deepening divide in policy, culture and public opinion has been opening between the two sides of the Atlantic.
I have no issue with his statement about our need to recognize that public opinion in many parts of Europe is against our policy: however, what Mr. Rohatyn needs to acknowledge is that public opinion in America is deeply against that of many of the policies of the Franco-German areas as it pertains to appeasement of dictatorships. And the statements about our desire to be free from foreign constraints is disingenuous at best: these were treaties and agreements pursued by the administration he served in with the full knowledge that they would never be supported or ratified domestically. Cynical at best, this was a policy pursued to engage commitments that they knew they would not have to be bound by or to work within.
One interesting little thing: our deep divide over...Religion. Yes, we're in favor of free exercise. Get over it.
The "New America," the post-Sept. 11 America, is very different from the "Old America." Whether the change is permanent or temporary, whether it reflects new personalities or new philosophies, it is too early to tell. I believe the change is permanent, that the trauma is very deep, that it is very hard for America
Yep. And maybe when AQ successfully flies a plane into Notre Dame the French will have such a wake up call to. No, it would be our fault somehow...
A recent special issue of The Economist on America was illuminating. The "New America," according to this view, which I share, is more radical and more committed than ever to the need for unchallenged military dominance. It is more individualistic than Europe, more religious, conservative and patriotic. This American exceptionalism - which is now, in every respect, far stronger than the "French exception" ever was - was brought to the surface by Sept. 11.
America has always been more religious, conservative, and patriotic than Europe---that was the freaking point that most of our ancestor's left either willingly or at the point of a bayonet over. Always has been.
President George W. Bush is committed to radical changes in America's domestic and foreign policies, which are more than ever focused on America's national interest. As a result, Americans see Europe as old-fashioned and bureaucratic, and think of America's future as more connected to China, India and Russia than to the Atlantic partnership, which served America so well during the last half century.
Having thousands of your citizens massacred on a bright, cloudless, sunny late summer day has a way of concentrating your attention like that, Felix.
And the Atlantic partnership served America did serve America's interests well for fifty years: but let us also forget that our presence provided the Europeans one of the longest periods of peace since the collapse of Rome. The Atlantic Alliance was in America's interest, but it was also in Europe's interest as well. It's something that both sides need to work on, not just us simplistic Americans who need to learn how to use manners, shut up, and pay for whatever the President of France wants.
As for Europe's view of America, opinion polls in one country after another show a continued high level of opposition to U.S. policies, with the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and the war in Iraq at the head of the list. The terrorist attacks in Spain seem to have aggravated this attitude. Just as the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, created a "New America," however, it is possible that the Madrid attacks of March 11, 2004, will create a "New Europe," with unforeseeable results. Furthermore, European opinion is now reinforced by the emotions expressed by Americans, appalled at the unacceptable abuses against Iraqi prisoners, which have made an indelible stain on the image of our country.
I guess these would be the same countries with rising tides of violence against Jews---"oh, if only Hitler had finished the job!" seems to be the answer for ANSWER.
And now for the part to piss off the European audience and the American left:
From the end of World War II until the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, America and Europe appeared to grow increasingly similar in many ways, as the trans-Atlantic economic relationship steadily grew in importance. But at the end of the 1980's, our economies began to diverge, and America began to grow more rapidly than Europe.
We are still each other's biggest customers, suppliers and investors; the economic trans-Atlantic partnership, which has become broader and deeper over the years, is equal in importance to the political and security partnership. But America faces significant long-term economic challenges, which are having an impact on its international posture. Since 2000, the combination of recession, stock market collapse, wartime spending on Iraq and successive massive tax cuts have devastated the federal budget. America now depends heavily on foreign capital as well as on foreign energy.
China is rapidly becoming one of America's main sources of financing, a growing source of manufactured goods, and will soon become a major global force in the creation of intellectual capital. Simultaneously, India has become a rapidly growing provider of services to the U.S. economy, and a more important U.S. creditor and security partner. And Russia's future role as a major supplier of energy to the U.S. and as a recipient of U.S. investment will inevitably increase as a result of America's continued dependence on foreign sources of energy and the continued instability of the Middle East.
These economic and security realities must be viewed together with the growing demographic, political and economic importance of the America's West and Southwest, the acceleration of Hispanic and Asian immigration, and the decline in the political importance of the America's East and of its European heritage. America's economic and strategic interests are shifting toward China, India and Russia, with a lower priority given to Europe and its slow-growing economies.
What's interesting about this is the prospect that the reason American and European interests not overlapping as they once did is that America is becoming less European. I'm not sure about this: I think it's "Europe" (ie the central Axis of France, Germany, and Belgium) that is abandoning the ideas that we, together with the Brits, seek to defend--classical liberalism, with its belief in individual rights, freedom of religion, strong property rights, and national sovereignty. It's the statist, quasi-socialist bureaucracy of the EU that is moving away from these traditional European ideas. Or the problem is, these are not traditional European ideas at all, but rather Anglo-Saxon ones. I'm not sure. But as to the emerging role of India and China (but not Russia, and it remains to be seen how much intellectual capital--ie software and the like--that China is really going to be able to produce for a world market; I wouldn't bet on it any time soon), that's just reality.
As Americans watch the progress of the European construction and the significant enlargement of the EU, they will ask two questions: First, will it work, and second, will Europe be our partner or our rival?
Or, with its declining demographics, its stagnant economies, its lack of a military force structure capable of being deployed on its own, the third question is will Europe even matter in 50 years? The answer to that question is not assured.
Continued negative European public opinion about the United States is still harmful to the relationship. Much of America is still now looking at Rumsfeld's "Old Europe" but instead of recognizing a dynamic "New Europe," it has focused on "New China," "New India" and "New Russia."
"New Europe"......? Where?
The euro cannot be overlooked, however. The euro is now an integral part of the global financial system and in order to believe in the euro, one needs to believe in Europe. The fate of the euro is in part about competing rates of return between Europe and the United States, but it is also tied to the integration of Europe. And many Europeans want their sovereignty and identity aggressively protected against the effects of globalization and so-called American hegemony.
Yet, to quote Sting, they "want their MTV." And their Pepsi, and Levi's, and whatever else we produce. And wanting their sovereignty and identity aggressively protected--isn't that what we are always accused of? That's the basis of our stands regarding the ICJ etc.
Yet the reality of the euro and the pressures of the marketplace are likely to require further significant reforms throughout Europe in areas such as taxation, budgets and pensions. The political debates in Europe over these issues reflect a deep ambivalence over the distribution of wealth, over the role of the state and over the nature of global capitalism. Under the circumstances, one has to wonder whether popular support for the European project can be sustained in a timely way.
Hence the significance of the ticking demographic bomb.
Political leaders on both sides of the Atlantic should also take advantage of the construction of Europe to explore a new alliance. It might revive the possibility of France reintegrating a new and different NATO in some fashion; it should justify greater European-American cooperation in the war against global terrorism, as a result of the tragedy in Spain.
As Jon Lovitz used to say, "Yeah, THAT'S the ticket!" French leadership of NATO with those horrible Americans subjugated to a "proper" command structure, plus all the American planes and ships so that the French military could actually leave port. Yeah.
I am hopeful that President Bush's meetings with President Jacques Chirac of France on the 60th anniversary of the Normandy landings will be the signal of renewed Franco-American cooperation on many of these important issues; common values and mutual respect, as well as mutual interest, have to become, once again, the platform of our relationship.
As well as perhaps a timely signal to the French about the dangers and costs of appeasement....
As part of such an effort, there are also important economic initiatives to be explored. The volatility of the world's main currencies should be considered by the Group of Seven industrialized countries, and a more aggressive growth-oriented policy by the European Central Bank would be welcome. The establishment of a North Atlantic free trade area could be discussed, along with greater cooperation in trans-Atlantic defense industries and trans-Atlantic regulatory initiatives on food and drug safety, antitrust and, in particular, accounting.
All decent ideas, except the tradezone: not. gonna. happen. Although, I think we should discuss the idea about opening the spigot in our immigration laws to allow highly trained workers to gain residency status in the US immediately. Nothing like a little brain drain threat to clarify our position.
Whether Europe grows as fast as America will depend on European growth-oriented policies and on demographics. What is equally important, however, is to allow a stronger, more integrated Europe to take its place alongside America as our partner. Remaining strongly linked by the Atlantic partnership is critical to the future of Europe as well as of America.
To be perfectly honest, we'd love the help. But this time you have to earn it, Chucky. That means holding up your end of the load, even when it's dirty and causes wrinkles on your designer suit.
Remaining strongly linked in the Atlantic partnership is important to our future: but it's a hell of a lot MORE important for the Europeans than it is for us.
Now THAT'S a great idea!
I needed something to make me laugh....something totally absurd, something so preposterous, so utterly ridiculous stemming from the maws of human folly to make me right again, to flush out the anger, and make me one with Bugs Bunny as he says, "What a Maroon!" at Yosemite Sam. The way to win is not to adopt the Arab Way of War: it is to continue to fight in the Bugs Bunny Way of War.
Case in point: from today's Arab News (Motto: All the news that fit to print, as long as it blames all our effed-up society's problems on the Jews and the Americans), this wonderful little story, reprinted in toto:
No word on who will supply the fire insurance...
UPDATE: More fun from the Arab News The Darwin Awards Marital Category almost had a winner over the weekend:
I needed something to make me laugh....something totally absurd, something so preposterous, so utterly ridiculous stemming from the maws of human folly to make me right again, to flush out the anger, and make me one with Bugs Bunny as he says, "What a Maroon!" at Yosemite Sam. The way to win is not to adopt the Arab Way of War: it is to continue to fight in the Bugs Bunny Way of War.
Case in point: from today's Arab News (Motto: All the news that fit to print, as long as it blames all our effed-up society's problems on the Jews and the Americans), this wonderful little story, reprinted in toto:
Binladin Group Short-Listed to Build World’s Tallest Building
Staff Writer
JEDDAH, 10May 2004 — The Saudi Binladin Group has been short-listed to build the world’s tallest building. It is the only Arab company on the short-list for the construction of the705 -meter Burj Dubai in the emirate, scheduled for completion in2008 .
The skyscraper will outstrip by more than 250 meters the current contender, Petronas Towers in Kuala Lumpur, and will house a hotel wing, apartments, offices, entertainment centers and restaurants.
A spokesman for UAE developer Emaar Properties earlier told the Gulf News daily the projects also included one of the world’s largest malls — the Dubai Mall with over two million square feet of retail space — and a mock “old town”, making it “a city within a city.”
Record-obsessed Dubai is already home to the world’s largest man-made island, the Palm Jumeirah, and the world’s first seven-star hotel, the Burj Al-Arab.
Fittingly, the Binladin group is Saudi Arabia’s biggest construction company and has carried out projects including the expansion of the two holy mosques in Makkah and Madinah.
Construction of the Burj Dubai project has already started, with excavation of the site completed recently.
Sales of residential units in the tower will start soon, said an official with Emaar Properties. This follows the bullish response to the apartment sales on the six high-rises branded “The Residences”, and part of the wider Burj Dubai project.
No word on who will supply the fire insurance...
UPDATE: More fun from the Arab News The Darwin Awards Marital Category almost had a winner over the weekend:
Traditional Gunshots Nearly Killed the Groom
Staff Writer
QATEEF, 10May 2004 — A young man spent his wedding night in hospital after he was accidentally shot by one of the invited guests, Okaz reported. It is a custom in Qateef to fire shots into the air to celebrate happy occasions. The man was fortunately in stable condition and the celebrations continued. Police have banned the use of firearms on such occasions.
Moonbat Sighting
INDC Bill is out and about today, so maybe someone else can answer this question: Who the hell is Bill Phillips? Read his op-ed in Pravda, of all places. Here is a flavor:
Most people are peaceful and more concerned with their own well-being than with invading another country. Lacking any real enemies, American foreign policy has intentionally created enemies and conflict to support the defense industry and further the goals of the ruling elite for the last 50 years.
You get the idea. Read the whole thing if your blood pressure needs to be cranked up a few points.
INDC Bill is out and about today, so maybe someone else can answer this question: Who the hell is Bill Phillips? Read his op-ed in Pravda, of all places. Here is a flavor:
Most people are peaceful and more concerned with their own well-being than with invading another country. Lacking any real enemies, American foreign policy has intentionally created enemies and conflict to support the defense industry and further the goals of the ruling elite for the last 50 years.
You get the idea. Read the whole thing if your blood pressure needs to be cranked up a few points.
The PATRIOT Act: Killing old people, fluffy bunnies, and fuzzy squirrels since 2001!
The newly revived Dean Esmay is back and bold as ever, with a great post about the nature and extent of the PATRIOT Act. The funny thing about it is, the PATRIOT Act is right up there with Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time as the most talked about yet least read (let alone understood) thing in the English language. In the legal world, it surpasses even Roe v. Wade in this category (or, as was explained not with irony I might add--as an undergraduate: "You don't need to read the opinion to have an opinion.")
The newly revived Dean Esmay is back and bold as ever, with a great post about the nature and extent of the PATRIOT Act. The funny thing about it is, the PATRIOT Act is right up there with Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time as the most talked about yet least read (let alone understood) thing in the English language. In the legal world, it surpasses even Roe v. Wade in this category (or, as was explained not with irony I might add--as an undergraduate: "You don't need to read the opinion to have an opinion.")
Movie Rant
I don't mean to trespass on other blogs' turf, but this rather irked me.
I like westerns a lot. Even the bad ones (with the possible exception of Shane) usually have some redeeming qualities.
So I was all set the other night to see what AMC had to serve up. The choice turned out to be Hannie Caulder, a thoroughly forgettable flick. So what if Raquel Welch was in it. You want a good Raquel Welch western? Go with Bandolero. Now that's worth watching.
I'm just saying.
I don't mean to trespass on other blogs' turf, but this rather irked me.
I like westerns a lot. Even the bad ones (with the possible exception of Shane) usually have some redeeming qualities.
So I was all set the other night to see what AMC had to serve up. The choice turned out to be Hannie Caulder, a thoroughly forgettable flick. So what if Raquel Welch was in it. You want a good Raquel Welch western? Go with Bandolero. Now that's worth watching.
I'm just saying.
OOOOOOOOO-kay now.....or, how sometimes Blogging is better than therapy, except that it's extremely public and can come back to bite your keister....
What follows is my take on the prison story---feel free to skip it, and scroll down for some of the usual cultural/political snark.
Well now, I guess we all know my REAL name now, don't we? That's what you get for spreading mulch on the first real hot day of the year...
Seriously, now that that exercise in home spleen-transplant removal is over, I'd like to stand by point 1 only.
UPDATE: Robert Prather over at the fabulous Insults Unpunished has his take on all this, quoting my favorite bit from PJ O'Rourke:
What follows is my take on the prison story---feel free to skip it, and scroll down for some of the usual cultural/political snark.
My one and only take on the prison story
This whole thing makes me sick---I've written then deleted at least a dozen postings on this because they were either intemperate, or nonsensical, or outrageous, or some combination thereof. But I've distilled it down into three points, so here goes:
1. Obviously this is all morally and ethically repugnant, and in violation of the Geneva Convention. It doesn't matter that the Iraqis or AQ don't or didn't adhere to the Geneva Convention, nor for that matter did the North Vietnamese, the North Koreans, the Japanese Empire or the Nazis. It just doesn't matter. The rules are there as much to protect yourself as a nation from becoming what you cannot be---it is for us to avoid our Melian moment. The Romans would have done this publicly, and of course Saddam would've used the pictures as Ramadan cards. But that's not the standard one wants to be judged against.
2. Obviously, the exploitation of this for political purposes is sickening, but unfortunately not surprising from the ethical pigs that inhabit the far left. Pictures of Americans being lynched, burned, and dismembered by an Iraqi mob? Legitimate expressions of frustrations. Yeah, right. Pictures of an American Female MP with an Iraqi partisan on a leash? We've lost our moral footing in the world. My only question is, since when did anyone on the far left consider Amerika to have any moral footing at all? I thought we were the evil empire and all? Oh yeah, that's right.
3. The dangerous part: I have been fighting the feeling that people like Atrios had when they saw the pictures of the lynched Americans in Fallujah: the "it serves the bastards right" moment. Won't. Do. It. Can't. Hopefully that's what differentiates us from the Ted Ralls of the world. [Man, I'm channeling Cox & Forkum without realizing it--which is either a good thing or a sign of serious delirium on my part.]
With that said, however, it raises a dangerous point: the timing of all this right on the heels of the Battle of Fallujah. The question that comes out of these pictures is "I wonder what's going through the minds of the Jihadis now?" In other words, is there a fate worse than death for a racist, sexist, homophobic Islamic fascist than the vision of being placed on a leash, naked, by an American woman MP? I'm sure this fits with their definition of hell. That was probably the point of all this, barbaric as it is. The irony out of this is that we are all appalled by this, but we are appalled because we see it for the violation of our morals and ethics: they are appalled for seeing the reversal of their gender roles, their treatment of women played out in surreal reverse. [This Cox & Forkum cartoon nails it]. Maybe this whole thing is being timed on purpose---this is the PR MOAB of the war. The damage to us is obvious: the question is however does it destroy their will to fight? If that happens, would the abuse have been worth it? In my humble (and safe) position, no. There are some things you just shouldn't do. Hence the Melian moment idea. But....the question the jihadis, as well as North Korea, should be asking themselves is "what is America capable of it truly gets pissed off?" Lileks has floated this idea as the "going Roman" idea--not to advocate it as a good idea, but to lay it down almost as a warning, back in the dark days after 9/11. What if America started acting like its critics say it is? What then? It would be an appalling, bad thing. Words cannot do that tragedy justice. But, because it is not something they should want ever to happen. Is America capable of truly evil things, atrocities in war? Sure: just ask a Sioux. Or for that matter look at the pictures of the POW camps from the Civil War, both sides. Moral of the story: we are not the Romans because we are debating how to punish the people responsible, not asking ourselves how we can better publicize this. But if pushed to a point of utter desperation and anger, are we capable of "going Roman on them?" The answer, frighteningly, is yes. Frighteningly for us, yes, but hopefully even more frighteningly for them.
America is not going to get its moral standing back by apologizing, groveling, instituting sharia or allowing itself to be nuked. We will not get our moral standing back in the eyes of most in the world precisely because no matter what we do, it's not going to be acknowledged as long as we refuse to play the "let's pretend" appeasement game the rest of the world wants us so desperately play along. Genocide in Rwanda while the UN peacemakers on the ground look the other way? Let's promote the director of peace keeping operations to UN Secretary General, and give him the peace prize to boot! The UN cynically profiting from the corruption of the oil for food program? Look the other way! North Korea getting nukes? Look the other way! PLO and Hamas on a murderous cult of death? Look the other way! Many on the left pine for the early days of the UN when the US was looked to as a moral beacon in international politics. Of course that was a different time: the world knew the cost of appeasement and "let's pretend."
If I've offended any of the regular readers, I apologize. I'm trying hard to be a good person, but these days, more than ever, it's just that much more difficult. I'm weak, I'm human, and very often I'm wrong. And this whole issue just wants to make me cry. But at the same time it fills me with a murderous rageful hatred for those trying to exploit this. And that's something that can NEVER be given into, no matter how loathesome they become.
Well now, I guess we all know my REAL name now, don't we? That's what you get for spreading mulch on the first real hot day of the year...
Seriously, now that that exercise in home spleen-transplant removal is over, I'd like to stand by point 1 only.
UPDATE: Robert Prather over at the fabulous Insults Unpunished has his take on all this, quoting my favorite bit from PJ O'Rourke:
Back in London, I was having dinner in the Groucho Club - this week’s in-spot for what’s left of Britain’s lit glitz and nouveau rock riche - when one more person started in on the Stars and Stripes. Eventually he got, as the Europeans always do, to the part about “Your country’s never been invaded.” (This fellow had been two during the Blitz, you see.) “You don’t know the horror, the suffering. You think war is…”
I snapped.
“A John Wayne movie,” I said. “That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it? We think war is a John Wayne movie. We think life is a John Wayne movie - with good guys and bad guys, as simple as that. Well, you know something, Mister Limey Poofter? You’re right. And let me tell you who those bad guys are. They’re us . WE BE BAD.
“We’re the baddest-assed sons of bitches that ever jogged in Reeboks. We’re three-quarters grizzly bear and two-thirds car wreck and descended from a stock market crash on our mother’s side. You take your Germany, France and Spain, roll them all together and it won’t give us room to park our cars. We’re the big boys, Jack, the original, giant, economy-sized, new and improved butt kickers of all time. When we snort coke in Houston, people lose their hats in Cap d’Antibes. And we’ve got an American Express card credit limit higher than your piss-ant metric numbers go.”
“You say our country’s never been invaded? You’re right, little buddy. Because I’d like to see the needle-dicked foreigners who’d have the guts to try. We drink napalm to get our hearts started in the morning. A rape and a mugging is our way of saying ‘Cheerio.’ Hell can’t hold our sock-hops. We walk taller, talk louder, spit further, f*ck longer and buy more things than you know the names of. I’d rather be a junkie in a New York City jail than king, queen and jack of all you Europeans. We eat little countries like this for breakfast and shit them out before lunch.”
[Prather continues:] I included the bulk of the quote for amusement purposes, but you get the point. America has been resented – even hated by some on the leftist fringes – for decades. We lead during the Cold War, and won, while providing the bulk of the support for NATO. That’s still true, though I don’t know why. A new standing military coalition is needed, this one to deal with terrorism.
That we’ve been resented is nothing new. If other countries would focus on their own problems – liberalize their economies, build up their militaries – there would be no cause for resentment. Instead they would rather focus on us. It takes their minds off their own problems.
Your Tax Pound At Work
The Brits have the highest teen pregnancy rate in Europe. HM Government's solution? Teach the kiddies how to give blow jobs instead.
Corlumme, stone the crows!
YIPS from Steve:
There's a Rhodes Scholar joke in there somewhere, I'm just not going to be the one to go down for it....
The Brits have the highest teen pregnancy rate in Europe. HM Government's solution? Teach the kiddies how to give blow jobs instead.
Corlumme, stone the crows!
YIPS from Steve:
There's a Rhodes Scholar joke in there somewhere, I'm just not going to be the one to go down for it....
Why I Love The Web
The Bookish Gardener, who I don't believe we've heard from before, sides with John in the "Is German an ugly language?" debate.
I'm going to let that one go and encourage you to go peruse the BG's site. Not only is it full of all sorts of nifty arts and musical stuff, she also points out a beautiful link between horticulture and The Simpsons.
Anyone who can do that can speak the "click-click" language from The Gods Must Be Crazy and still be okay in my book.
Yip! Yip!
The Bookish Gardener, who I don't believe we've heard from before, sides with John in the "Is German an ugly language?" debate.
I'm going to let that one go and encourage you to go peruse the BG's site. Not only is it full of all sorts of nifty arts and musical stuff, she also points out a beautiful link between horticulture and The Simpsons.
Anyone who can do that can speak the "click-click" language from The Gods Must Be Crazy and still be okay in my book.
Yip! Yip!
Attention Blogger Waifs!
So what do you think of Blogger's new posting format?
Personally, I don't like it because it violates the Prime Directive of the Tory Division of LlamaWorld: Change is bad.
Also, I can't quite figure out why my post on VDH was tagged as a 9:30 AM publication and pushed down below Steve-O's latest foray into photoshoping the death of Western Civ. I wrote the damn thing at noon!
All the more reason to become Munuvians eftsoons.
So what do you think of Blogger's new posting format?
Personally, I don't like it because it violates the Prime Directive of the Tory Division of LlamaWorld: Change is bad.
Also, I can't quite figure out why my post on VDH was tagged as a 9:30 AM publication and pushed down below Steve-O's latest foray into photoshoping the death of Western Civ. I wrote the damn thing at noon!
All the more reason to become Munuvians eftsoons.
Movies that I'd pay to see
Lots of good stuff in the pipeline, including my one and only post on the prison abuse story. But I have to run out to the Lowe's for a big run on garden stuff, so I'll have to leave you with this thought:
We received lots of high-class feedback about Robbo's post from Friday about Brad Pitt being tapped to play "Darcy" in "Pride and Prejudice."
Now I'm told that most women consider THIS edition with Colin Firth as brooding bad-boy Fitzwilliam Darcy to be definitive:
Okay, fair enough. But then Robbo also had the post where he seemed to gloat that the story I had picked up upon over at Truly Bad Films about Ben Affleck playing David Hasselhoff's son in the movie version of "Knight Rider" seemed to be put in the dustbin over creative differences over whether K.I.T.T., the car, should talk. Like you can have a crime-fighting car that doesn't talk or something. And Liz [evil task-mistress that she is] over at Truly Bad Films has been poking me with a sharp stick to do my long-promised definitive "all-things Helen Hunt" post. Like, beauty as, er, beauteous as Helen's can be rushed.
Jane Austen, Brad Pitt, K.I.T.T., Helen Hunt.....
.....which got me thinking, and long-time readers know THAT'S a dangerous situation.......
Lots of good stuff in the pipeline, including my one and only post on the prison abuse story. But I have to run out to the Lowe's for a big run on garden stuff, so I'll have to leave you with this thought:
We received lots of high-class feedback about Robbo's post from Friday about Brad Pitt being tapped to play "Darcy" in "Pride and Prejudice."
Now I'm told that most women consider THIS edition with Colin Firth as brooding bad-boy Fitzwilliam Darcy to be definitive:
Okay, fair enough. But then Robbo also had the post where he seemed to gloat that the story I had picked up upon over at Truly Bad Films about Ben Affleck playing David Hasselhoff's son in the movie version of "Knight Rider" seemed to be put in the dustbin over creative differences over whether K.I.T.T., the car, should talk. Like you can have a crime-fighting car that doesn't talk or something. And Liz [evil task-mistress that she is] over at Truly Bad Films has been poking me with a sharp stick to do my long-promised definitive "all-things Helen Hunt" post. Like, beauty as, er, beauteous as Helen's can be rushed.
Jane Austen, Brad Pitt, K.I.T.T., Helen Hunt.....
.....which got me thinking, and long-time readers know THAT'S a dangerous situation.......
The Enemy Within
The superb Victor David Hanson takes on the rising cult of romantic foreign victimhood and corresponding American self-loathing.
I very much fear that the reaction to the prison abuse cases is falling into this pattern. Already the comparisons to French Algeria and My Lai are spreading among the Lefties. Meanwhile, there is self-doubt and panic on the Right, even from such usually level-headed folks as Andrew Sullivan and Bill Kristol.
Look, we are rightly shocked and disturbed at the pictures and videos we have seen. We feel this way because we are decent people who want to do the right thing. I continue to believe that the most appropriate response is to figure out exactly who did it and who let them and to hammer these people - in other words, to see that justice is done.
But going beyond the prison abuse to engage in collective self-flagellation, to raise questions about our moral qualifications as a people to undertake what we are doing in the war against terror, to state that our entire presence in Iraq is no longer legitimate and that we must get out as quickly as possible, is to revert to a state of post-Vietnam psychosis that I had hoped we had finally laid to rest, but that VDH argues is still very much a part of our collective conscience. The demons in our midst do everything they can to convince us to slip back into this darkened state. And people in the middle are caught up in indecisive anguish, again seeking to do what is right, but no longer sure of their course.
One vital point that VDH discusses must be made in the context of the prison abuse business as well: There is much talk about the need to apologize sufficiently for what happened and to treat our enemies with more respect and humanity. This is exactly wrong. What we might see as an effort to inject new moral legitimacy into our actions will be seen in the Middle East for what it is: another example of Western helplessness brought on by self-loathing, doubt and corruption. Far from mollifying anybody or winning new respect, such action will only bring more contempt down on us, to say nothing of encouraging new attacks, both in Iraq and here.
I think there are plenty of folks here at home cheerleading this exercise in collective guilt who know perfectly well what the outcome of such perceived weakness will be and are hoping for it. All I can say is that I have never understood the mentality of such treasonous bastards and I pray God I never do.
The superb Victor David Hanson takes on the rising cult of romantic foreign victimhood and corresponding American self-loathing.
I very much fear that the reaction to the prison abuse cases is falling into this pattern. Already the comparisons to French Algeria and My Lai are spreading among the Lefties. Meanwhile, there is self-doubt and panic on the Right, even from such usually level-headed folks as Andrew Sullivan and Bill Kristol.
Look, we are rightly shocked and disturbed at the pictures and videos we have seen. We feel this way because we are decent people who want to do the right thing. I continue to believe that the most appropriate response is to figure out exactly who did it and who let them and to hammer these people - in other words, to see that justice is done.
But going beyond the prison abuse to engage in collective self-flagellation, to raise questions about our moral qualifications as a people to undertake what we are doing in the war against terror, to state that our entire presence in Iraq is no longer legitimate and that we must get out as quickly as possible, is to revert to a state of post-Vietnam psychosis that I had hoped we had finally laid to rest, but that VDH argues is still very much a part of our collective conscience. The demons in our midst do everything they can to convince us to slip back into this darkened state. And people in the middle are caught up in indecisive anguish, again seeking to do what is right, but no longer sure of their course.
One vital point that VDH discusses must be made in the context of the prison abuse business as well: There is much talk about the need to apologize sufficiently for what happened and to treat our enemies with more respect and humanity. This is exactly wrong. What we might see as an effort to inject new moral legitimacy into our actions will be seen in the Middle East for what it is: another example of Western helplessness brought on by self-loathing, doubt and corruption. Far from mollifying anybody or winning new respect, such action will only bring more contempt down on us, to say nothing of encouraging new attacks, both in Iraq and here.
I think there are plenty of folks here at home cheerleading this exercise in collective guilt who know perfectly well what the outcome of such perceived weakness will be and are hoping for it. All I can say is that I have never understood the mentality of such treasonous bastards and I pray God I never do.
Frontiers of Culture
NASCAR ballet. I take back everything I've ever said about the decline of modern art.
NASCAR ballet. I take back everything I've ever said about the decline of modern art.
Language Duel!
Uh, oh. I've been called out by our good friend John of TexasBestGrok over my remark the other day about German being a hideous language.
(Actually, he challenges me to a French duel which means, I think, that we taunt each other for a while and then break into spontaneous mutual surrender.)
I'm standing my ground on this one. John is right that German is "earthy." To me it invokes images of dark woods and misty, dismal swamps full of greased-hair savages killing each other and getting plastered on mead. All those gutterals and consonants are terrific for shouting at rival tribes or Roman centurions, but don't do well in more civilized environs. Whenever I hear it, I also hear a voice in the back of my head shouting,"Varus! Give me back my Eagles!"
Heh.
Uh, oh. I've been called out by our good friend John of TexasBestGrok over my remark the other day about German being a hideous language.
(Actually, he challenges me to a French duel which means, I think, that we taunt each other for a while and then break into spontaneous mutual surrender.)
I'm standing my ground on this one. John is right that German is "earthy." To me it invokes images of dark woods and misty, dismal swamps full of greased-hair savages killing each other and getting plastered on mead. All those gutterals and consonants are terrific for shouting at rival tribes or Roman centurions, but don't do well in more civilized environs. Whenever I hear it, I also hear a voice in the back of my head shouting,"Varus! Give me back my Eagles!"
Heh.
Gratuitous Domestic Blogging (TM) - Now With Bonus Etymology Section!
Spent some time yesterday afternoon plugging the gaps at the bottom of the garden fence against the bastard rabbits. Chicken wire is a malevolent thing, especially when you have to cut it up to fit the space with which you're working. By the time I got done, I had the hands and wrists of a very incompetent suicide attempt.
I noticed a few weeks back that Home Despot does not use the term "chicken wire." Instead, they call the stuff "poultry fencing." I suppose this is some kind of marketing gimmick. The term "chicken wire" evokes too many images of Cooter and Jimbo and rusty Chevy pickups on blocks, while "poultry fencing" sounds tonier: "No more butter scones for me, Mater. I'm off to play the Grawnd Piahno next the poultry fencing!"
Which leads me to something I've always found fascinating: Most of our names for barnyard animals - chicken, cow, sheep, lamb, pig and so on - are of Middle and Old English in origin. On the other hand (vegetarians - close your eyes), many of the names of the cooked products that show up on our table - beef, poultry, veal, mutton - are from Norman French. That gives you a pretty good idea of the social stratification amongst Saxons and Normans after the Conquest.
I throw this out for what it's worth.
Spent some time yesterday afternoon plugging the gaps at the bottom of the garden fence against the bastard rabbits. Chicken wire is a malevolent thing, especially when you have to cut it up to fit the space with which you're working. By the time I got done, I had the hands and wrists of a very incompetent suicide attempt.
I noticed a few weeks back that Home Despot does not use the term "chicken wire." Instead, they call the stuff "poultry fencing." I suppose this is some kind of marketing gimmick. The term "chicken wire" evokes too many images of Cooter and Jimbo and rusty Chevy pickups on blocks, while "poultry fencing" sounds tonier: "No more butter scones for me, Mater. I'm off to play the Grawnd Piahno next the poultry fencing!"
Which leads me to something I've always found fascinating: Most of our names for barnyard animals - chicken, cow, sheep, lamb, pig and so on - are of Middle and Old English in origin. On the other hand (vegetarians - close your eyes), many of the names of the cooked products that show up on our table - beef, poultry, veal, mutton - are from Norman French. That gives you a pretty good idea of the social stratification amongst Saxons and Normans after the Conquest.
I throw this out for what it's worth.
Sunday, May 09, 2004
Flora-blogging
This is the park about half a mile from here:
This is the park about half a mile from here:
Saturday, May 08, 2004
Gratuitous Domestic Blogging (TM) - Weekend Update
A good day in the garden planting black-eyed susans and white coneflowers. Also filled up the back patio whiskey barrels with impatiens.
It's all immensely gratifying: We bought this place in the fall of 2000 from a couple who had lived here 30 years. They were very good gardeners and (in later years) obviously had a lot of time to devote to it, including developing a big vegetable garden at the back. (When we moved in, it was full of pumpkins and squash. That's all gone now, but the raspberry and blueberry bushes, together with the asparagus, are all still supplementing the Butcher Family diet.)
Our first summer there was sufficient residual effect from the previous owners' efforts to carry things over with minimal work on our part. Which was just as well, as we were doing massive work to change the Interior That Time Forgot. We pretty much planted a few marigolds and that was it. However, the summer of 2002 was a different story. In addition to our inside projects, we had a new baby to deal with and spent virtually no time working outside. The result was that the jungle reclaimed the garden, choking it with weeds that I hadn't time to do much about aside from an occasional spraying.
Last year, aided and abetted by the Butcher's Wife, I was able to stop the chaos and begin to restore order. Our greatest triumph was rooting out the morning glory that had nearly choked the raspberry brakes. In the meantime, I put a rectangular gravel path in the garden and sodded over the interior of the rectangle with grass. While I only planted a few hollyhock, I kept the rest of the garden pretty much weed free.
This year, as you might have gathered, we're on the offensive, and finally turning the plot into the kind of perennial cut-flower bed that I've always wanted. As I said at the outset, truly gratifying.
This has been the kind of day where you work and work and suddenly, when you're just about done, think "Damn, I'm hungry!" So it's off to a well-earned vodka martini, a big steak dinner and an evening of community theatre watching Cole Porter's "Anything Goes" for the missus and me. I'm sure I'll think of something else to write about later, but at the moment I can't think of much either that flowers and food, both of which topics I think I've sufficiently covered now.
Yip to you later!
UPDATE from Steve: I have to get some new batteries for the camera but I think I'll do some floral-blogging later, in honor of Mother's Day. The first of the rose bushes errupted yesterday, and I counted 13 blooms this morning---that, and there are two stands of irises that are simply magnificent. Props to Robbo, who has been giving a lot of great advice re flower planting this year. In the past, my interest has always been in the vegetables, but this year I'm trying to branch out into flowers as well. In the vegetable department the plants go in tomorrow; this week's task of compost, dirt, and sand spreading was completed, and I put a nice layer of wood mulch over the top. The problem around here is that the sun just bakes the soil, and the Virginia red clay, no matter how much stuff you add to it, can harden up like a brick in no time. Anyhoo, we've got a dozen tomato plants waiting to go in, plus 3 each eggplants and peppers. I've never had luck with eggplants---the things are just to damn persnickety in the past, but the prospect of fresh eggplant is just too damn alluring to give up. Later in the month I've penciled in time for constructing a proper kitchen garden, which is going to house the spices and stuff: I'm going to construct a raised bed using cobblestone pavers, complete with a step up, and slate pavers for a walkway within it. If that goes as planned, in the fall I'll build a similar one for the regular vegetable garden. For the zucinnis and squash this year we are moving them out of the main garden and planting them in one of the border edges, just because they take up so much room and their water requirements are so different.
When everything is starting to produce, I'll publish my famous gazpacho recipe. Hey, I know this is going to get me kicked out of INDC Bill's "'Merica, love it or leave it you lousy Frenchie Commie" club but to me the July 4th Llamabutcher Picnic is just not complete with a big thing of gazpacho with fresh veggies that were hanging on the vine in the previous hour.
I'm home with the eldest daughter right now, as she had her ballet recital last night. More on that later...
Otherwise, have a great Mother's Day!
A good day in the garden planting black-eyed susans and white coneflowers. Also filled up the back patio whiskey barrels with impatiens.
It's all immensely gratifying: We bought this place in the fall of 2000 from a couple who had lived here 30 years. They were very good gardeners and (in later years) obviously had a lot of time to devote to it, including developing a big vegetable garden at the back. (When we moved in, it was full of pumpkins and squash. That's all gone now, but the raspberry and blueberry bushes, together with the asparagus, are all still supplementing the Butcher Family diet.)
Our first summer there was sufficient residual effect from the previous owners' efforts to carry things over with minimal work on our part. Which was just as well, as we were doing massive work to change the Interior That Time Forgot. We pretty much planted a few marigolds and that was it. However, the summer of 2002 was a different story. In addition to our inside projects, we had a new baby to deal with and spent virtually no time working outside. The result was that the jungle reclaimed the garden, choking it with weeds that I hadn't time to do much about aside from an occasional spraying.
Last year, aided and abetted by the Butcher's Wife, I was able to stop the chaos and begin to restore order. Our greatest triumph was rooting out the morning glory that had nearly choked the raspberry brakes. In the meantime, I put a rectangular gravel path in the garden and sodded over the interior of the rectangle with grass. While I only planted a few hollyhock, I kept the rest of the garden pretty much weed free.
This year, as you might have gathered, we're on the offensive, and finally turning the plot into the kind of perennial cut-flower bed that I've always wanted. As I said at the outset, truly gratifying.
This has been the kind of day where you work and work and suddenly, when you're just about done, think "Damn, I'm hungry!" So it's off to a well-earned vodka martini, a big steak dinner and an evening of community theatre watching Cole Porter's "Anything Goes" for the missus and me. I'm sure I'll think of something else to write about later, but at the moment I can't think of much either that flowers and food, both of which topics I think I've sufficiently covered now.
Yip to you later!
UPDATE from Steve: I have to get some new batteries for the camera but I think I'll do some floral-blogging later, in honor of Mother's Day. The first of the rose bushes errupted yesterday, and I counted 13 blooms this morning---that, and there are two stands of irises that are simply magnificent. Props to Robbo, who has been giving a lot of great advice re flower planting this year. In the past, my interest has always been in the vegetables, but this year I'm trying to branch out into flowers as well. In the vegetable department the plants go in tomorrow; this week's task of compost, dirt, and sand spreading was completed, and I put a nice layer of wood mulch over the top. The problem around here is that the sun just bakes the soil, and the Virginia red clay, no matter how much stuff you add to it, can harden up like a brick in no time. Anyhoo, we've got a dozen tomato plants waiting to go in, plus 3 each eggplants and peppers. I've never had luck with eggplants---the things are just to damn persnickety in the past, but the prospect of fresh eggplant is just too damn alluring to give up. Later in the month I've penciled in time for constructing a proper kitchen garden, which is going to house the spices and stuff: I'm going to construct a raised bed using cobblestone pavers, complete with a step up, and slate pavers for a walkway within it. If that goes as planned, in the fall I'll build a similar one for the regular vegetable garden. For the zucinnis and squash this year we are moving them out of the main garden and planting them in one of the border edges, just because they take up so much room and their water requirements are so different.
When everything is starting to produce, I'll publish my famous gazpacho recipe. Hey, I know this is going to get me kicked out of INDC Bill's "'Merica, love it or leave it you lousy Frenchie Commie" club but to me the July 4th Llamabutcher Picnic is just not complete with a big thing of gazpacho with fresh veggies that were hanging on the vine in the previous hour.
I'm home with the eldest daughter right now, as she had her ballet recital last night. More on that later...
Otherwise, have a great Mother's Day!
Llamabutcher Week in Review
Disney announces that it will not distribute Farenheit 911, Mike Moore's "documentary" about 9/11.
My advice to you, Mikey, is to never forget to tip the dancers---payback's a bitch, and all that.
Of course, it was all just a fraudulent marketing stunt---much like the entire corpus of his work.
Disney announces that it will not distribute Farenheit 911, Mike Moore's "documentary" about 9/11.
My advice to you, Mikey, is to never forget to tip the dancers---payback's a bitch, and all that.
Of course, it was all just a fraudulent marketing stunt---much like the entire corpus of his work.
Friday, May 07, 2004
When Worlds Collide
I was all set to have a good hearty laugh at the idea of Brad Pitt playing Achilles. "Like Dudes! I am soooo totally bummed! Like, I'm gonna stay right here in my tent chillin', man!"
But Pitt playing Mr. D'Arcy????
That's not funny. That's grotesque.
I was all set to have a good hearty laugh at the idea of Brad Pitt playing Achilles. "Like Dudes! I am soooo totally bummed! Like, I'm gonna stay right here in my tent chillin', man!"
But Pitt playing Mr. D'Arcy????
That's not funny. That's grotesque.
Gratuitous Domestic Blogging (TM) - Outdoor Division
Looks like a good sized wodge of thunderstorms is heading this way this evening. We had one come through Wednesday afternoon as well - by the time I got home it had cleared out. The cloudless, cobalt-blue evening sky coupled with a ground-hugging white mist and the smell of rain and fresh, wet earth and grass was heavenly.
Steve-O is playing Mr. Mulch while I'm still in planting mode. This weekend I'm putting in a couple of Cupid's Darts to set off my Shasta Daisies. I'm also planting some sunflowers that I started indoors. I still have some coneflowers and Joe Pye Weed under the lights that won't be ready for a couple weeks and I'm also waiting on an order of orange and white Butterfly Weeds.
I transplanted a big batch of Siberian Iris last fall. I've never seen so many buds on them as this year and will have to stake them this weekend before they bloom.
No trouble with the rabbits yet, but I believe that's because what is in the garden already isn't high enough to attract their attention. That'll change pretty soon, the furry little bastards, so I'll probably have to try and reenforce my chickenwire fence this weekend as well.
Looks like a good sized wodge of thunderstorms is heading this way this evening. We had one come through Wednesday afternoon as well - by the time I got home it had cleared out. The cloudless, cobalt-blue evening sky coupled with a ground-hugging white mist and the smell of rain and fresh, wet earth and grass was heavenly.
Steve-O is playing Mr. Mulch while I'm still in planting mode. This weekend I'm putting in a couple of Cupid's Darts to set off my Shasta Daisies. I'm also planting some sunflowers that I started indoors. I still have some coneflowers and Joe Pye Weed under the lights that won't be ready for a couple weeks and I'm also waiting on an order of orange and white Butterfly Weeds.
I transplanted a big batch of Siberian Iris last fall. I've never seen so many buds on them as this year and will have to stake them this weekend before they bloom.
No trouble with the rabbits yet, but I believe that's because what is in the garden already isn't high enough to attract their attention. That'll change pretty soon, the furry little bastards, so I'll probably have to try and reenforce my chickenwire fence this weekend as well.
Science Imitates Art
Eric the Viking has an interesting piece about a visual experiment involving passing basketballs and a gorilla to illustrate something called inattention blindness. Inattention blindess is the failure of the eye to notice a "UE" or unexpected event when the mind is focused on some other task. In the experiment above, people told off to watch a basketball film and count the number of times the ball was passed between teammates did not notice a person in a gorilla suit strolling across the area.
Pretty interesting stuff. But I've seen this before - it is the very same principal as the Somebody Else's Problem Field. Let me quote the late, great Douglas Adams at length:
Play resumed with a new ball, the sun continued to shine and Ford continued to jump up and down shaking his head and blinking.
"Something's on your mind, isn't it?" said Arthur.
"I think," said Ford in a tone of voice which Arthur by now recognized as one which presaged something utterly unintelligible, "that there's an SEP over there."
He pointed. Curiously enough, the direction he pointed in was not the one in which he was looking. Arthur looked in the one direction, which was towards the sight-screens, and in the other which was at the field of play. He nodded, he shrugged. He shrugged again.
"A what?" he said.
"An SEP."
"An S ...?"
"... EP."
"And what's that?"
"Somebody Else's Problem."
"Ah, good," said Arthur and relaxed. He had no idea what all that was about, but at least it seemed to be over. It wasn't.
"Over there," said Ford, again pointing at the sight-screens and looking at the pitch.
"Where?" said Arthur.
"There!" said Ford.
"I see," said Arthur, who didn't.
"You do?" said Ford.
"What?" said Arthur.
"Can you see," said Ford patiently, "the SEP?"
"I thought you said that was somebody else's problem."
"That's right."
Arthur nodded slowly, carefully and with an air of immense stupidity.
"And I want to know," said Ford, "if you can see it."
"You do?"
"Yes."
"What," said Arthur, "does it look like?"
"Well, how should I know, you fool?" shouted Ford. "If you can see it, you tell me."
Arthur experienced that dull throbbing sensation just behind the temples which was a hallmark of so many of his conversations with Ford. His brain lurked like a frightened puppy in its kennel. Ford took him by the arm.
"An SEP," he said, "is something that we can't see, or don't see, or our brain doesn't let us see, because we think that it's somebody else's problem. That's what SEP means. Somebody Else's Problem. The brain just edits it out, it's like a blind spot. If you look at it directly you won't see it unless you know precisely what it is. Your only hope is to catch it by surprise out of the corner of your eye."
"Ah," said Arthur, "then that's why ..."
"Yes," said Ford, who knew what Arthur was going to say.
"... you've been jumping up and ..."
"Yes."
"... down, and blinking ..."
"Yes."
"... and ..."
"I think you've got the message."
"I can see it," said Arthur, "it's a spaceship."
*****************************
"Strange ship."
They had arrived at it. The second strangest thing about the ship was watching the Somebody Else's Problem field at work. They could now clearly see the ship for what it was simply because they knew it was there. It was quite apparent, however, that nobody else could. This wasn't because it was actually invisible or anything hyper-impossible like that. The technology involved in making anything invisible is so infinitely complex that nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand million, nine hundred and ninety-nine million, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine times out of a billion it is much simpler and more effective just to take the thing away and do without it. The ultra-famous sciento-magician Effrafax of Wug once bet his life that, given a year, he could render the great megamountain Magramal entirely invisible.
Having spent most of the year jiggling around with immense Lux-O-Valves and Refracto-Nullifiers and Spectrum-Bypass-O-Matics, he realized, with nine hours to go, that he wasn't going to make it.
So, he and his friends, and his friends' friends, and his friends' friends' friends, and his friends' friends' friends' friends, and some rather less good friends of theirs who happened to own a major stellar trucking company, put in what now is widely recognized as being the hardest night's work in history, and, sure enough, on the following day, Magramal was no longer visible. Effrafax lost his bet — and therefore his life — simply because some pedantic adjudicating official noticed (a) that when walking around the area that Magramal ought to be he didn't trip over or break his nose on anything, and (b) a suspicious-looking extra moon.
The Somebody Else's Problem field is much simpler and more effective, and what's more can be run for over a hundred years on a single torch battery. This is because it relies on people's natural disposition not to see anything they don't want to, weren't expecting, or can't explain. If Effrafax had painted the mountain pink and erected a cheap and simple Somebody Else's Problem field on it, then people would have walked past the mountain, round it, even over it, and simply never have noticed that the thing was there.
And this is precisely what was happening with Slartibartfast's ship. It wasn't pink, but if it had been, that would have been the least of its visual problems and people were simply ignoring it like anything.
The most extraordinary thing about it was that it looked only partly like a spaceship with guidance fins, rocket engines and escape hatches and so on, and a great deal like a small upended Italian bistro.
Ford and Arthur gazed up at it with wonderment and deeply offended sensibilities.
"Yes, I know," said Slartibartfast, hurrying up to them at that point, breathless and agitated, "but there is a reason. Come, we must go. The ancient nightmare is come again. Doom confronts us all. We must leave at once."
You like? Go buy this.
Eric the Viking has an interesting piece about a visual experiment involving passing basketballs and a gorilla to illustrate something called inattention blindness. Inattention blindess is the failure of the eye to notice a "UE" or unexpected event when the mind is focused on some other task. In the experiment above, people told off to watch a basketball film and count the number of times the ball was passed between teammates did not notice a person in a gorilla suit strolling across the area.
Pretty interesting stuff. But I've seen this before - it is the very same principal as the Somebody Else's Problem Field. Let me quote the late, great Douglas Adams at length:
Play resumed with a new ball, the sun continued to shine and Ford continued to jump up and down shaking his head and blinking.
"Something's on your mind, isn't it?" said Arthur.
"I think," said Ford in a tone of voice which Arthur by now recognized as one which presaged something utterly unintelligible, "that there's an SEP over there."
He pointed. Curiously enough, the direction he pointed in was not the one in which he was looking. Arthur looked in the one direction, which was towards the sight-screens, and in the other which was at the field of play. He nodded, he shrugged. He shrugged again.
"A what?" he said.
"An SEP."
"An S ...?"
"... EP."
"And what's that?"
"Somebody Else's Problem."
"Ah, good," said Arthur and relaxed. He had no idea what all that was about, but at least it seemed to be over. It wasn't.
"Over there," said Ford, again pointing at the sight-screens and looking at the pitch.
"Where?" said Arthur.
"There!" said Ford.
"I see," said Arthur, who didn't.
"You do?" said Ford.
"What?" said Arthur.
"Can you see," said Ford patiently, "the SEP?"
"I thought you said that was somebody else's problem."
"That's right."
Arthur nodded slowly, carefully and with an air of immense stupidity.
"And I want to know," said Ford, "if you can see it."
"You do?"
"Yes."
"What," said Arthur, "does it look like?"
"Well, how should I know, you fool?" shouted Ford. "If you can see it, you tell me."
Arthur experienced that dull throbbing sensation just behind the temples which was a hallmark of so many of his conversations with Ford. His brain lurked like a frightened puppy in its kennel. Ford took him by the arm.
"An SEP," he said, "is something that we can't see, or don't see, or our brain doesn't let us see, because we think that it's somebody else's problem. That's what SEP means. Somebody Else's Problem. The brain just edits it out, it's like a blind spot. If you look at it directly you won't see it unless you know precisely what it is. Your only hope is to catch it by surprise out of the corner of your eye."
"Ah," said Arthur, "then that's why ..."
"Yes," said Ford, who knew what Arthur was going to say.
"... you've been jumping up and ..."
"Yes."
"... down, and blinking ..."
"Yes."
"... and ..."
"I think you've got the message."
"I can see it," said Arthur, "it's a spaceship."
*****************************
"Strange ship."
They had arrived at it. The second strangest thing about the ship was watching the Somebody Else's Problem field at work. They could now clearly see the ship for what it was simply because they knew it was there. It was quite apparent, however, that nobody else could. This wasn't because it was actually invisible or anything hyper-impossible like that. The technology involved in making anything invisible is so infinitely complex that nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand million, nine hundred and ninety-nine million, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine times out of a billion it is much simpler and more effective just to take the thing away and do without it. The ultra-famous sciento-magician Effrafax of Wug once bet his life that, given a year, he could render the great megamountain Magramal entirely invisible.
Having spent most of the year jiggling around with immense Lux-O-Valves and Refracto-Nullifiers and Spectrum-Bypass-O-Matics, he realized, with nine hours to go, that he wasn't going to make it.
So, he and his friends, and his friends' friends, and his friends' friends' friends, and his friends' friends' friends' friends, and some rather less good friends of theirs who happened to own a major stellar trucking company, put in what now is widely recognized as being the hardest night's work in history, and, sure enough, on the following day, Magramal was no longer visible. Effrafax lost his bet — and therefore his life — simply because some pedantic adjudicating official noticed (a) that when walking around the area that Magramal ought to be he didn't trip over or break his nose on anything, and (b) a suspicious-looking extra moon.
The Somebody Else's Problem field is much simpler and more effective, and what's more can be run for over a hundred years on a single torch battery. This is because it relies on people's natural disposition not to see anything they don't want to, weren't expecting, or can't explain. If Effrafax had painted the mountain pink and erected a cheap and simple Somebody Else's Problem field on it, then people would have walked past the mountain, round it, even over it, and simply never have noticed that the thing was there.
And this is precisely what was happening with Slartibartfast's ship. It wasn't pink, but if it had been, that would have been the least of its visual problems and people were simply ignoring it like anything.
The most extraordinary thing about it was that it looked only partly like a spaceship with guidance fins, rocket engines and escape hatches and so on, and a great deal like a small upended Italian bistro.
Ford and Arthur gazed up at it with wonderment and deeply offended sensibilities.
"Yes, I know," said Slartibartfast, hurrying up to them at that point, breathless and agitated, "but there is a reason. Come, we must go. The ancient nightmare is come again. Doom confronts us all. We must leave at once."
You like? Go buy this.
Llama Yips!
This time they go out to the Lord of the Geek Empire, a brand new blogging Iraqi war vet, one of whose first mistakes has been to add us to his "geeks-in-arms" bridage.
Go on over, have a look around and say "Hola!"
Yip! Yip! Yip!
UPDATE: Also to WickedGoodRants for picking up on John & Mike's Treaded Joy-Ride. Thankee!
MORE: Further Yips! to the good folks at Q and O for the linkage!
This time they go out to the Lord of the Geek Empire, a brand new blogging Iraqi war vet, one of whose first mistakes has been to add us to his "geeks-in-arms" bridage.
Go on over, have a look around and say "Hola!"
Yip! Yip! Yip!
UPDATE: Also to WickedGoodRants for picking up on John & Mike's Treaded Joy-Ride. Thankee!
MORE: Further Yips! to the good folks at Q and O for the linkage!
Campus P.C. Watch
OpinionJournal has a piece today about a flap over graduation ceremonies at Cal-State Fullerton. The school plans to fly 80 national flags - representing the countries from which its students come. This is a pretty nice idea, in and of itself. The trouble is that the school plans to fly the flag of Communist Vietnam while the Vietnamese Students Association - many of whose members are the children of parents who fled when the North won the war - insists that the old South Vietnamese flag should be flown instead.
What to do? Professor Bainbridge thinks this presents a nasty dilemma for Campus Lefties, who at once are avid supporters of Marxism in all its manifestations, but at the same time are hypersensitive about not offending the sensibilities of minorities.
Personally, I think the Professor overstates the conundrum because he fails to take into account an important rule of campus PC-ism: All minorities are created equal, but some are more equal than others. It seems to me that Asians of all stripes - Chinese, Koreans, Vietnamese and others, are widely perceived among the professional arbiters of correctness as not sufficiently "victimy" to warrant inclusion in the PC protection racket. Instead, the stereotype of bright, hard-working over-achiever actually makes the PC Police deeply suspicious, if not outright hostile to these people. I have read enough accounts of turf wars over minority admissions slots to know that there is no love lost here.
And in this particular case, how could the average Campus Lefty support anyone whose family actually fled the Glorious Worker's Paradise when Saigon fell? In this respect, Lefties see these people in the same light as Taiwanese, Cuban refugees and Nicaraguan Contras - dupes of evil, corrupt right-wing regimes, if not members of those regimes themselves.
All in all, I doubt seriously whether the Vietnamese Students Association is going to get much support from the multi-culti crowd on this one.
OpinionJournal has a piece today about a flap over graduation ceremonies at Cal-State Fullerton. The school plans to fly 80 national flags - representing the countries from which its students come. This is a pretty nice idea, in and of itself. The trouble is that the school plans to fly the flag of Communist Vietnam while the Vietnamese Students Association - many of whose members are the children of parents who fled when the North won the war - insists that the old South Vietnamese flag should be flown instead.
What to do? Professor Bainbridge thinks this presents a nasty dilemma for Campus Lefties, who at once are avid supporters of Marxism in all its manifestations, but at the same time are hypersensitive about not offending the sensibilities of minorities.
Personally, I think the Professor overstates the conundrum because he fails to take into account an important rule of campus PC-ism: All minorities are created equal, but some are more equal than others. It seems to me that Asians of all stripes - Chinese, Koreans, Vietnamese and others, are widely perceived among the professional arbiters of correctness as not sufficiently "victimy" to warrant inclusion in the PC protection racket. Instead, the stereotype of bright, hard-working over-achiever actually makes the PC Police deeply suspicious, if not outright hostile to these people. I have read enough accounts of turf wars over minority admissions slots to know that there is no love lost here.
And in this particular case, how could the average Campus Lefty support anyone whose family actually fled the Glorious Worker's Paradise when Saigon fell? In this respect, Lefties see these people in the same light as Taiwanese, Cuban refugees and Nicaraguan Contras - dupes of evil, corrupt right-wing regimes, if not members of those regimes themselves.
All in all, I doubt seriously whether the Vietnamese Students Association is going to get much support from the multi-culti crowd on this one.
Oh my
Why didn't I think of this? Grrrrr......
Some genius ran the names of the Independent 9/11 Commission through the FEC records, and guess what?
As Pfc Pyle would say, "Surprise, surprise, surprise!"
Here's the full records from Opensecrets.org:
Why didn't I think of this? Grrrrr......
Some genius ran the names of the Independent 9/11 Commission through the FEC records, and guess what?
At least six of the 10 members of a bipartisan commission investigating the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks have made partisan campaign donations since joining the panel, campaign finance reports show.
Democratic Commissioner Jamie Gorelick has given roughly $14,000 to Democratic candidates and causes since joining in December 2002. That includes the maximum $2,000 each to presidential nominee-to-be John Kerry and former hopeful Dick Gephardt and $1,000 to former presidential candidate Wesley Clark.
Gorelick said the commission decided early on that members shouldn't physically take part in partisan political activities, but that they could make campaign contributions. She is one of five Democratic members; there also are five Republicans.
Gorelick said that while the independent commission is bipartisan, it has not voted along party lines.
Former Nebraska Sen. Bob Kerrey, a Democrat, has donated at least $25,000 to Democratic candidates and party committees since being named to the panel in December 2003.
As Pfc Pyle would say, "Surprise, surprise, surprise!"
Here's the full records from Opensecrets.org:
Donor name: gorelick, jamie
Cycle(s) selected: 2004
Total for this search: $16,750
WILMER CUTLER AND PICKERING/PARTNER
6/27/2003 $2,000 Gephardt, Richard A
1/26/2004 $1,000 Metzl, Jamie
9/5/2003 $1,000 EMILY's List
1/28/2003 $1,000 EMILY's List
9/9/2003 $1,000 Biden, Joseph R Jr
3/26/2003 $1,000 Kerry, John
5/23/2003 $1,000 Kerry, John
2/9/2004 $1,000 Mikulski, Barbara A
3/24/2004 $1,000 Mikulski, Barbara A
12/11/2003 $1,000 Clark, Wesley
1/8/2004 $1,000 Van Hollen, Chris
4/17/2003 $750 Dodd, Chris
2/10/2003 $500 Dorgan, Byron L
1/14/2003 $500 Pelosi, Nancy
10/28/2003 $500 Leahy-Cantwell Cmte
10/28/2003 $250 Cantwell, Maria
12/22/2003 $250 Leahy, Patrick
Lunch Break
A turkey roll-up with extra mustard, tomatos, and pickles. Mmmmm....
The Gruntleds have your thought for the day from PJ O'Rourke (The Commissar isn't going to like it).
Plus, the Cracker Barrel Philosopher (I'm guessing that this means the Cracker Barrel has wifi which might just mean the beginning of End Times) has a theory explaining the phenomena we noted yesterday, about the British Bookies indication that they feel Bush is more likely to be reelected after the prison scandal: the defection of wavering Kerry votes to Nader.
Well, I'm doing my part. My goal is on campus to deliver at least a dozen potential Kerry votes to Nader, by pointing out such things as "hey, you know Kerry voted to confirm Antonin Scalia to the Supreme Court?" or "Hey, didn't Kerry kill 23 people in VietNam---is that why he always talks about his service?" Stuff like that. Hey, we all have to do our part.
A turkey roll-up with extra mustard, tomatos, and pickles. Mmmmm....
The Gruntleds have your thought for the day from PJ O'Rourke (The Commissar isn't going to like it).
Plus, the Cracker Barrel Philosopher (I'm guessing that this means the Cracker Barrel has wifi which might just mean the beginning of End Times) has a theory explaining the phenomena we noted yesterday, about the British Bookies indication that they feel Bush is more likely to be reelected after the prison scandal: the defection of wavering Kerry votes to Nader.
Yes, they hate Bush with a consuming passion. But the truth is that they hate the United States of America more. They find the war in Iraq loathsome not because they are pacifists, but because the idea that America is a liberator nation sickens and enrages them.
And that's why Abu Ghraib might be John Kerry's worst nightmare: The anti-American Left is already seizing on these photos and the behavior of .001 percent of the Americans present in Iraq as evidence that the entire U.S. effort in Iraq is a moral catastrophe from stem to stern.
The issue will no longer be the supposed "lies" of George W. Bush, but the supposedly "criminal" conduct of the American occupiers. In other words, they will openly turn from blaming Bush to blaming American troops, American soldiers, American contractors - and America herself.
Well, I'm doing my part. My goal is on campus to deliver at least a dozen potential Kerry votes to Nader, by pointing out such things as "hey, you know Kerry voted to confirm Antonin Scalia to the Supreme Court?" or "Hey, didn't Kerry kill 23 people in VietNam---is that why he always talks about his service?" Stuff like that. Hey, we all have to do our part.
Classics Break
While Steve-O is out spreading compost (talk about a Busman's Holiday!), have a look at this article by David Hurwitz, in which he argues that promoters of classical music should drop their current "All Masterpieces, All the Time" approach and expose classical music to the marketplace of ideas, letting people decide for themselves what is worth listening to and what is not.
In this spirit, Hurwitz concludes with this Top Ten List of Classical Music's Dirties Secrets:
1. Mozart really does all sound the same. I don't know what this really means. Certainly, you can skip the first 24 or so symphonies and some of Mozart's more serious operas and be none the worse for it. And a goodish bit of stuff that gets played on the radio (like the German Dances, for instance) need not be heard more than once or twice. But saying all Mozart sounds the same is like saying all Christopher Wren architecture looks the same. Well yes, but it's a good sameness.
2. Beethoven’s Grosse Fuge is just plain ugly. Peter Schickele did a P.D.Q. Bach joke about the "grossest fuge of all" once. If I've heard the Grosse Fuge, I don't remember it. My own Beethoven "dirty secret" entry would be that the man really couldn't write for voice.
3. Wagner’s operas are much better with cuts. Ain't it the truth. As a matter of fact, I love the overtures to many of them, but bog down heavily when the singing begins. (But I dislike Romantic Opera in general. I also think German is a hideous language.)
4. No one cares about the first three movements of Berlioz’ Symphonie fantastique. Well, Lileks does.
5. Schoenberg’s music never sounds more attractive, no matter how many times you listen to it. AMEN!
6. Schumann’s orchestration definitely needs improvement. I had a friend in college who played the viola. He used to say the same thing.
7. Bruckner couldn’t write a symphonic allegro to save his life. Can't comment on that one.
8. Liszt is trash. Yes indeed. And furthermore, he knew it himself.
9. The so-called “happy” ending of Shostakovich’s Fifth is perfectly sincere. Again, no comment.
10. It’s a good thing that “only” about 200 Bach cantatas survive. What nonsense. I have never heard a single bad, stale or unimaginative note from the man. Bach was the closest thing to a perfect composer who ever walked the earth. BTW, speaking of Peter Schickele above, if you've never heard his Bach Portrait, get it! One of the most inspired pieces of silliness ever put out.
Read the whole thing, tho. Hurwitz makes some solid points.
While Steve-O is out spreading compost (talk about a Busman's Holiday!), have a look at this article by David Hurwitz, in which he argues that promoters of classical music should drop their current "All Masterpieces, All the Time" approach and expose classical music to the marketplace of ideas, letting people decide for themselves what is worth listening to and what is not.
In this spirit, Hurwitz concludes with this Top Ten List of Classical Music's Dirties Secrets:
1. Mozart really does all sound the same. I don't know what this really means. Certainly, you can skip the first 24 or so symphonies and some of Mozart's more serious operas and be none the worse for it. And a goodish bit of stuff that gets played on the radio (like the German Dances, for instance) need not be heard more than once or twice. But saying all Mozart sounds the same is like saying all Christopher Wren architecture looks the same. Well yes, but it's a good sameness.
2. Beethoven’s Grosse Fuge is just plain ugly. Peter Schickele did a P.D.Q. Bach joke about the "grossest fuge of all" once. If I've heard the Grosse Fuge, I don't remember it. My own Beethoven "dirty secret" entry would be that the man really couldn't write for voice.
3. Wagner’s operas are much better with cuts. Ain't it the truth. As a matter of fact, I love the overtures to many of them, but bog down heavily when the singing begins. (But I dislike Romantic Opera in general. I also think German is a hideous language.)
4. No one cares about the first three movements of Berlioz’ Symphonie fantastique. Well, Lileks does.
5. Schoenberg’s music never sounds more attractive, no matter how many times you listen to it. AMEN!
6. Schumann’s orchestration definitely needs improvement. I had a friend in college who played the viola. He used to say the same thing.
7. Bruckner couldn’t write a symphonic allegro to save his life. Can't comment on that one.
8. Liszt is trash. Yes indeed. And furthermore, he knew it himself.
9. The so-called “happy” ending of Shostakovich’s Fifth is perfectly sincere. Again, no comment.
10. It’s a good thing that “only” about 200 Bach cantatas survive. What nonsense. I have never heard a single bad, stale or unimaginative note from the man. Bach was the closest thing to a perfect composer who ever walked the earth. BTW, speaking of Peter Schickele above, if you've never heard his Bach Portrait, get it! One of the most inspired pieces of silliness ever put out.
Read the whole thing, tho. Hurwitz makes some solid points.
Off to spread mulch
Well, the truck just arrived with 9 cubic yards of mulch, so I'm out of here for awhile. And probably a good thing, too: I've got wind that INDCent Bill's up to some shennanigans that it's probably best that I'm not around for. Plus, later today, Kevin at WizBang has the announcement over who is winning the one true right and proper Hawk-Girl T-shirt contest----I'm betting on an entry that combines Hechler & Koch, Star Trek, and St. Pauli's Girl. But that's just me, Mr. Vegas.
In the meantime, lots of good stuff over at Tim Worstall's place---a solid round the world coverage of important happenings, plus a link to what might become a new haunt, the Cafe Hayek. So go over and give Tim some Yips, and tell him the Llamas sent you.
Well, the truck just arrived with 9 cubic yards of mulch, so I'm out of here for awhile. And probably a good thing, too: I've got wind that INDCent Bill's up to some shennanigans that it's probably best that I'm not around for. Plus, later today, Kevin at WizBang has the announcement over who is winning the one true right and proper Hawk-Girl T-shirt contest----I'm betting on an entry that combines Hechler & Koch, Star Trek, and St. Pauli's Girl. But that's just me, Mr. Vegas.
In the meantime, lots of good stuff over at Tim Worstall's place---a solid round the world coverage of important happenings, plus a link to what might become a new haunt, the Cafe Hayek. So go over and give Tim some Yips, and tell him the Llamas sent you.
Friends Wrap
Just a few quick impressions of the finale to start off a Friday. (That's us Llamas - covering the waterfront so you don't have to.)
I have to confess that I really haven't watched the show that much in recent years - it never had the same appeal as, say, Cheers. Some of that is the writing. Some of it probably also is the general unpleasantness of the characters. (Some of it might also be my age, but we won't go there.)
Anyway, it appears that the writers decided to play it safe and canter home with a conventional wrap-up and with Rachel and Ross getting together. Eh, why not.
These things struck me:
- The notion of Monica and Chandler not finding out they were getting twins until the actual delivery was preposterous.
- You would never guess that Rachel and Ross had a child together already. Rachel talks about sending the baby to Paris the same way a normal person would talk about sending a crate of books. Ross seems to be totally out of the loop. This is chilling.
- Did I detect a dig in the character of the kid giving up the babies for adoption to Monica and Chandler? Poor, dumb white-trash teen who, after the delivery, "is going to go off to Bible Group or something"? I can just see the writers' eyes glittering as they think, "Hey - we'll make the girl a Bible-Thumper! See? Won't a pregnant teen religious nut show those conservatives a thing or two?" (As I say, I haven't seen the show recently, so don't know whether this character was developed at all in previous episodes. But I'll bet I'm not far off.)
- If I were Lisa Kudrow, I'd be pretty steamed. Phoebe (and Joey for that matter) was utterly peripheral to the plot last night.
- I doubt the Joey spin-off goes anywhere.
YIPS from Steve: Like I said, pick the Luger....
And on the subject of missing kids, where was Ben? How do you lose a 9 year old boy? What, was he kidnapped by Murphy Brown's daughter and whisked off by the flying lion to the Island of Unwanted Sitcom Babies, hoping for Aaron Spelling to come along in his flying sled and whisk them to sitcom parents who would love an awkward, pre-teen kid who thinks "adorable" is mugging to the character while insulting the nominal father/authority figure? Or, maybe Ben's sitting in bed in the top floor of some sitcom orphanage in Maine, listening to Michael Caine read Robert Louis Stevenson, saying, "Good night you princes of prime time, you kings of Nielsen!"? And who would take over the sitcom orphanage after Caine OD's? Why, Oliver from the Brady Bunch, of course!
The problem is, you can't really end a sitcom anymore after Newhart did it so brilliantly with the whole "what a horrible dream" thing. Just. Can't. Do. It.
HOW YOU COULD END THAT SHOW WELL
How should it have ended? Start with the whole (stupid) theme song, sure, but then the comforting BONG-CK noise from Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. Screen goes black, with the address of the Friends aparment buildinng in white lettering. Stabler and Benson come walking in, investigating the disapearance of a 9 year old boy who they believe was exploited for a ratings stunt about 9 years ago. Then play the whole thing as an episode of Law & Order---the cops are doing there thing, investigating, getting people's different stories (that way, you see, you could do the flashback scenes). Think how priceless it would be to have Ross sitting in the grey Rikers jumper, in the jail conference room with his lawyer (press John Larroquette into service for this, he's not doing anything anyway), with Sam McCoy doing his thing "MIS-ter Geller, you are facing LIFE-IN-PRISON for this---WHERE IS YOUR SON!?!" Ross would then of course wet himself. You could do the whole court scene for the trial of Ross's murder of Ben, and you'd get Harry Anderson from Night Court to be the Judge The episode would end with McCoy, Serena, and Big Ol' Fred walking to the elevator, with Fred saying "What yer tellin' me is that they sat on their candy asses for ten years drinking coffee? What a bunch of pussies---Heck, I'll volunteer to flick the switch on this Geller guy myself!"
Hey, that would be must-see-tee-vee for me!
UPDATE TROIS: And to Robbo's question yesterday of Monica, Rachel, or Phoebe? The correct answer is Markie Post.
Just a few quick impressions of the finale to start off a Friday. (That's us Llamas - covering the waterfront so you don't have to.)
I have to confess that I really haven't watched the show that much in recent years - it never had the same appeal as, say, Cheers. Some of that is the writing. Some of it probably also is the general unpleasantness of the characters. (Some of it might also be my age, but we won't go there.)
Anyway, it appears that the writers decided to play it safe and canter home with a conventional wrap-up and with Rachel and Ross getting together. Eh, why not.
These things struck me:
- The notion of Monica and Chandler not finding out they were getting twins until the actual delivery was preposterous.
- You would never guess that Rachel and Ross had a child together already. Rachel talks about sending the baby to Paris the same way a normal person would talk about sending a crate of books. Ross seems to be totally out of the loop. This is chilling.
- Did I detect a dig in the character of the kid giving up the babies for adoption to Monica and Chandler? Poor, dumb white-trash teen who, after the delivery, "is going to go off to Bible Group or something"? I can just see the writers' eyes glittering as they think, "Hey - we'll make the girl a Bible-Thumper! See? Won't a pregnant teen religious nut show those conservatives a thing or two?" (As I say, I haven't seen the show recently, so don't know whether this character was developed at all in previous episodes. But I'll bet I'm not far off.)
- If I were Lisa Kudrow, I'd be pretty steamed. Phoebe (and Joey for that matter) was utterly peripheral to the plot last night.
- I doubt the Joey spin-off goes anywhere.
YIPS from Steve: Like I said, pick the Luger....
And on the subject of missing kids, where was Ben? How do you lose a 9 year old boy? What, was he kidnapped by Murphy Brown's daughter and whisked off by the flying lion to the Island of Unwanted Sitcom Babies, hoping for Aaron Spelling to come along in his flying sled and whisk them to sitcom parents who would love an awkward, pre-teen kid who thinks "adorable" is mugging to the character while insulting the nominal father/authority figure? Or, maybe Ben's sitting in bed in the top floor of some sitcom orphanage in Maine, listening to Michael Caine read Robert Louis Stevenson, saying, "Good night you princes of prime time, you kings of Nielsen!"? And who would take over the sitcom orphanage after Caine OD's? Why, Oliver from the Brady Bunch, of course!
The problem is, you can't really end a sitcom anymore after Newhart did it so brilliantly with the whole "what a horrible dream" thing. Just. Can't. Do. It.
HOW YOU COULD END THAT SHOW WELL
How should it have ended? Start with the whole (stupid) theme song, sure, but then the comforting BONG-CK noise from Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. Screen goes black, with the address of the Friends aparment buildinng in white lettering. Stabler and Benson come walking in, investigating the disapearance of a 9 year old boy who they believe was exploited for a ratings stunt about 9 years ago. Then play the whole thing as an episode of Law & Order---the cops are doing there thing, investigating, getting people's different stories (that way, you see, you could do the flashback scenes). Think how priceless it would be to have Ross sitting in the grey Rikers jumper, in the jail conference room with his lawyer (press John Larroquette into service for this, he's not doing anything anyway), with Sam McCoy doing his thing "MIS-ter Geller, you are facing LIFE-IN-PRISON for this---WHERE IS YOUR SON!?!" Ross would then of course wet himself. You could do the whole court scene for the trial of Ross's murder of Ben, and you'd get Harry Anderson from Night Court to be the Judge The episode would end with McCoy, Serena, and Big Ol' Fred walking to the elevator, with Fred saying "What yer tellin' me is that they sat on their candy asses for ten years drinking coffee? What a bunch of pussies---Heck, I'll volunteer to flick the switch on this Geller guy myself!"
Hey, that would be must-see-tee-vee for me!
UPDATE TROIS: And to Robbo's question yesterday of Monica, Rachel, or Phoebe? The correct answer is Markie Post.
Everyone's talking at him
Reading INDCent Bill's opus on link-whoring just put one thought into my mind:
Reading INDCent Bill's opus on link-whoring just put one thought into my mind:
The Ballad of INDC Bill
[cue lonesome Harmonica sound]
Everybody's talkin' about moonbats
I don't see a trackback their linkin'
Only the echos of my pings
People stop and stare
I can't see their URLS
Only the shadows of Instapundit's wry
I'm goin' where the links keep shinin'
Through the pourin' hits
Goin' where the traffic suits my moods
Bankin' off the T-shirt sales
Rollin' in the paypal
and skippin over the blogads like a bone
Everybody's talkin about moonbats
But they're not not linking to me
Hey--where did you all go?
I won't let you leave my blog behind
No I won't let you leave
I won't let you leave my blog behind
Thursday, May 06, 2004
Piquance. Impudence. Ordnance.
Rachel Lucas has returned after a bit of an absense. This is great news for the blogworld. Welcome back!
(HT to Willow for the heads-up.)
Rachel Lucas has returned after a bit of an absense. This is great news for the blogworld. Welcome back!
(HT to Willow for the heads-up.)
Llama Yips!
Thanks to The American Mind for including us in the latest installment of Kerry's House of Ketchup.
Yip! Yip!
Thanks to The American Mind for including us in the latest installment of Kerry's House of Ketchup.
Yip! Yip!
Now This Is A Surprise
The normally extremely level-headed Jane Galt is concurring in The Economist's call for Rumsfeld to resign. She couches her belief in terms of taking responsibility at the highest level for the prisoner abuse case.
I believe this is wrong, quite frankly. First, unless Rumsfeld knew about (or actually authorized) the abuse and failed to do anything about it, he is not personally responsible. This is where Jane's Janet Reno/Waco analogy falls down. As OpinionJournal points out today, as soon as word of this business started filtering up the chain of command, the military swung into action - the reports we're seeing and reacting to in horror now are the results of the military's own investigation, not any intrepid sleuth-hounding by the Fourth Estate. As far as Rumsfeld apparently not telling Bush about it for a while, well, that was a dumb thing, but hardly an issue of responsibility rising to the level of such a drastic proposal. I'm plenty sure Dubya gave Rumsfeld quite the rocket up the backside for that one.
Second, Rumsfeld is a superb SecDef. We're in the middle of a war. Changing horses now - especially moving from a seasoned, competent veteran to God knows what unknown quality, would be terrible for the war effort, at the least shaking up the entire Defense Department with uncertainty, hesitation and ass-covering. We have no business generating that kind of distraction at this point.
Third, the notion that a Rumsfeld resignation is going to appease anybody or "repair damage" is absurd. The Arab World is not exactly known as a bastion of concern for the dignity of the individual. I believe that most of the wailing and gnashing of teeth has more to do with a deliberate psy-op campaign to inflame self-loathing and guilt in the West than with any real concern over those poor guys in the photos. Our enemies are going to hate us no matter if Rumsfeld stays or goes. This shouldn't even be a factor in the debate.
Bottom line - Rumsfeld should stay.
The normally extremely level-headed Jane Galt is concurring in The Economist's call for Rumsfeld to resign. She couches her belief in terms of taking responsibility at the highest level for the prisoner abuse case.
I believe this is wrong, quite frankly. First, unless Rumsfeld knew about (or actually authorized) the abuse and failed to do anything about it, he is not personally responsible. This is where Jane's Janet Reno/Waco analogy falls down. As OpinionJournal points out today, as soon as word of this business started filtering up the chain of command, the military swung into action - the reports we're seeing and reacting to in horror now are the results of the military's own investigation, not any intrepid sleuth-hounding by the Fourth Estate. As far as Rumsfeld apparently not telling Bush about it for a while, well, that was a dumb thing, but hardly an issue of responsibility rising to the level of such a drastic proposal. I'm plenty sure Dubya gave Rumsfeld quite the rocket up the backside for that one.
Second, Rumsfeld is a superb SecDef. We're in the middle of a war. Changing horses now - especially moving from a seasoned, competent veteran to God knows what unknown quality, would be terrible for the war effort, at the least shaking up the entire Defense Department with uncertainty, hesitation and ass-covering. We have no business generating that kind of distraction at this point.
Third, the notion that a Rumsfeld resignation is going to appease anybody or "repair damage" is absurd. The Arab World is not exactly known as a bastion of concern for the dignity of the individual. I believe that most of the wailing and gnashing of teeth has more to do with a deliberate psy-op campaign to inflame self-loathing and guilt in the West than with any real concern over those poor guys in the photos. Our enemies are going to hate us no matter if Rumsfeld stays or goes. This shouldn't even be a factor in the debate.
Bottom line - Rumsfeld should stay.
Completely Gratuitous Adolescent Guy Post
Okay, tonight's the big finale of Friends.
So Guys - which one? Rachel, Phoebe or Monica?
Personally, I don't think it's much of a contest.....
Okay, tonight's the big finale of Friends.
So Guys - which one? Rachel, Phoebe or Monica?
Personally, I don't think it's much of a contest.....
Google of the Day
Someone came in here googling "R2D2 Bungee jumping." (Needless to say, they picked up on one of Steve-O's posts.)
Kids today....They're young.
Someone came in here googling "R2D2 Bungee jumping." (Needless to say, they picked up on one of Steve-O's posts.)
Kids today....They're young.
Busted
English Majors and law school. Something I know a bit about. (HT to Sheila.)
Frankly, I think the commentor in the piece rather polarizes things - there are far more niches in the practice of law than he acknowledges, each with its own rewards, penalties and trade-offs. In classic guns-and-butter fashion, you simply pick (or try to pick) the point along the curve that maximizes what you consider to be the most important matters in your life.
I never really gave any serious consideration to grad school. For one thing, Academia is far, far too politicized for me. For another, at least in the Humanities, there are so many aspirants with so little to say fighting for so few positions that rising PhD's are constantly forced into ever more bizarre fields of pseudo-scholarship. And if you think I'm making this up, go read today's installment from The Hatemonger's Quarterly.
Steve-O, our resident Llama Professor, is one of the very, very lucky ones. And he wasn't an English major.
English Majors and law school. Something I know a bit about. (HT to Sheila.)
Frankly, I think the commentor in the piece rather polarizes things - there are far more niches in the practice of law than he acknowledges, each with its own rewards, penalties and trade-offs. In classic guns-and-butter fashion, you simply pick (or try to pick) the point along the curve that maximizes what you consider to be the most important matters in your life.
I never really gave any serious consideration to grad school. For one thing, Academia is far, far too politicized for me. For another, at least in the Humanities, there are so many aspirants with so little to say fighting for so few positions that rising PhD's are constantly forced into ever more bizarre fields of pseudo-scholarship. And if you think I'm making this up, go read today's installment from The Hatemonger's Quarterly.
Steve-O, our resident Llama Professor, is one of the very, very lucky ones. And he wasn't an English major.
Bad News for Steve-O
Lawren reports that David Hasselhoff's efforts to bring Knight Rider to the big screen with Ben Affleck behind the wheel have hit a major snag.
The issue? Whether "K.I.T.T." should talk.
I'd love to meet the studio exec genius who got the idea that a movie about a talking car should not include, uh, a talking car. Isn't that the equivalent of muting Mr. Ed?
On the other hand, perhaps it was just a pretext to get Hasselhoff to go away without being too blunt about it.
Lawren reports that David Hasselhoff's efforts to bring Knight Rider to the big screen with Ben Affleck behind the wheel have hit a major snag.
The issue? Whether "K.I.T.T." should talk.
I'd love to meet the studio exec genius who got the idea that a movie about a talking car should not include, uh, a talking car. Isn't that the equivalent of muting Mr. Ed?
On the other hand, perhaps it was just a pretext to get Hasselhoff to go away without being too blunt about it.
Sheila's Guilty Pleasures Department: Things we should be ashamed of, but aren't...
Sheila is running a confessional contest of things you should be ashamed of, but aren't. Let's just say an aching love for all things Ralph Macchio is mentionned and leave it at that.
I would have to say for me they would be that I'm not ashamed to admit:
....eating candy out of my kids' Easter baskets and halloween bags;
....bouncing a check on the purchase of my wife's birthday present last year;
....standing in line for hours in high school to see Gerald Ford speak;
....seeing both Huey Lewis & the News AND Rick Springfield in concert;
....doing an awful rendition of "Officer Brannigan" in Guys and Dolls;
.....voting for Bill Clinton in 92 (okay, so I was delusional! Sue Me!)
.....helping throw Robbo's wife in a lake from a boathouse dock at the party the night before their wedding;
....losing to my wife twice in a row in minature golf.
What am I ashamed to admit?
.....Robbo and I rowed in a lightweight crew in college;
....the same year, lying about it being my birthday to get sympathy nookie.
YIPS from Robbo! As it happens, I was thinking about this too, but Steve-O beat me to the post. Here's my list:
- I rather like The Wiggles. I really like Blue's Clues Boogie, and sing along when we listen to it in the car, particularly the track "I've Got A Silly Hat."
- I am terrified of flying. I do it when I have to, but it is always a major ordeal. For our honeymoon, I specifically took the Butcher's Wife to a place we could drive to so she would not have to deal with me on a plane.
- I've never seen E.T.. On the other hand, a college roommate of mine had a boot-legged audiocassette of Star Wars that I used to listen to over and over again. I now have most of the sound effects permanently engraved on my brain.
- I have never been to a rock concert. Ever. On the other hand, I like Huey Lewis. And as long as we're on 80's nostalgia, I used to watch The Dukes of Hazzard religiously.
- I once took a semester of bowling in high school in order to get out of P.E.
- My nickname on the crew in college was "Whammer." Suffice to say, it didn't have anything to do with rowing. And I never resorted to the birthday meme. On the other hand, I did resort to "my psycho soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend doesn't understand me...."
Sheila is running a confessional contest of things you should be ashamed of, but aren't. Let's just say an aching love for all things Ralph Macchio is mentionned and leave it at that.
I would have to say for me they would be that I'm not ashamed to admit:
....eating candy out of my kids' Easter baskets and halloween bags;
....bouncing a check on the purchase of my wife's birthday present last year;
....standing in line for hours in high school to see Gerald Ford speak;
....seeing both Huey Lewis & the News AND Rick Springfield in concert;
....doing an awful rendition of "Officer Brannigan" in Guys and Dolls;
.....voting for Bill Clinton in 92 (okay, so I was delusional! Sue Me!)
.....helping throw Robbo's wife in a lake from a boathouse dock at the party the night before their wedding;
....losing to my wife twice in a row in minature golf.
What am I ashamed to admit?
.....Robbo and I rowed in a lightweight crew in college;
....the same year, lying about it being my birthday to get sympathy nookie.
YIPS from Robbo! As it happens, I was thinking about this too, but Steve-O beat me to the post. Here's my list:
- I rather like The Wiggles. I really like Blue's Clues Boogie, and sing along when we listen to it in the car, particularly the track "I've Got A Silly Hat."
- I am terrified of flying. I do it when I have to, but it is always a major ordeal. For our honeymoon, I specifically took the Butcher's Wife to a place we could drive to so she would not have to deal with me on a plane.
- I've never seen E.T.. On the other hand, a college roommate of mine had a boot-legged audiocassette of Star Wars that I used to listen to over and over again. I now have most of the sound effects permanently engraved on my brain.
- I have never been to a rock concert. Ever. On the other hand, I like Huey Lewis. And as long as we're on 80's nostalgia, I used to watch The Dukes of Hazzard religiously.
- I once took a semester of bowling in high school in order to get out of P.E.
- My nickname on the crew in college was "Whammer." Suffice to say, it didn't have anything to do with rowing. And I never resorted to the birthday meme. On the other hand, I did resort to "my psycho soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend doesn't understand me...."
Cabaret From Hell
I have to admit that after reading this piece, I almost feel sorry for a certain haughty, French-looking Massachusetts liberal, who by the way served in Vietnam.
Having to sit through a performance by Bawbwa, Neil Diamond and Bette Midler would make me feel like Alex in A Clockwork Orange.
(BTW, Comedy Central ran off the Mecha-Streisand episode of South Park last night. It holds up very, very well indeed.)
I have to admit that after reading this piece, I almost feel sorry for a certain haughty, French-looking Massachusetts liberal, who by the way served in Vietnam.
Having to sit through a performance by Bawbwa, Neil Diamond and Bette Midler would make me feel like Alex in A Clockwork Orange.
(BTW, Comedy Central ran off the Mecha-Streisand episode of South Park last night. It holds up very, very well indeed.)
Snark Sighting
Hugh Hewitt wonders whether Kerry's presidential run isn't simply a manifestation of a mid-life crisis.
Gotta admit - it answers a whooooole lot of nagging questions.....
Hugh Hewitt wonders whether Kerry's presidential run isn't simply a manifestation of a mid-life crisis.
Gotta admit - it answers a whooooole lot of nagging questions.....
Waffles Update
We Llamas have yet to get in on the whole waffles business that has been circulating around certain parts of the Web for a while.
Note to Mom (everyone else skip this paragraph): this is a silly little prank whereby folks link to the Kerry campaign website using the word waffles. Google picks up the association of words so that any time someone does a Google-search for the word waffles, the Kerry site comes up in the search results.
Well, out of idle curiosity, I Google-searched waffles and damme if Kerry's page ain't right at the very top of the search results.
Hey - we Llamas can jump on a bandwagon as well as the next hooved herbivore, so waffles, waffles, waffles!
(Damn - now I'm all hungry.)
MOAB-GOOGLE BOMB TED RALL! Robbo's Mom--what your son is advocating is called a "google bomb," which is the internet equivalent of, well, a wedgy.
Anyhoo, we need to press the campaign to google bomb Ted Rall: talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless,
We Llamas have yet to get in on the whole waffles business that has been circulating around certain parts of the Web for a while.
Note to Mom (everyone else skip this paragraph): this is a silly little prank whereby folks link to the Kerry campaign website using the word waffles. Google picks up the association of words so that any time someone does a Google-search for the word waffles, the Kerry site comes up in the search results.
Well, out of idle curiosity, I Google-searched waffles and damme if Kerry's page ain't right at the very top of the search results.
Hey - we Llamas can jump on a bandwagon as well as the next hooved herbivore, so waffles, waffles, waffles!
(Damn - now I'm all hungry.)
MOAB-GOOGLE BOMB TED RALL! Robbo's Mom--what your son is advocating is called a "google bomb," which is the internet equivalent of, well, a wedgy.
Anyhoo, we need to press the campaign to google bomb Ted Rall: talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless, talentless,
Good God
Maybe I'm not reading this quite right, but according to some outfit called Popdex, Steve-O's little burst of inspired Kerry-bashing is the 58th most popular link on the Web today.
Well done, indeed!
YIPS from Steve:
I'm not sure what the right reaction should be: this, or this?
Oh, and to Jennifer at the Frank J. Fan Club, I have only this to say.
Maybe I'm not reading this quite right, but according to some outfit called Popdex, Steve-O's little burst of inspired Kerry-bashing is the 58th most popular link on the Web today.
Well done, indeed!
YIPS from Steve:
I'm not sure what the right reaction should be: this, or this?
Oh, and to Jennifer at the Frank J. Fan Club, I have only this to say.
The bookies versus the polls
A regular feature of our campaign coverage has been following the futures market in the outcome of the election over at British bookie house Tradesports.com. As I always say, this is not an endorsement or advertisement for gambling; rather, it's a different approach using political science to get at predicting the outcome of the election. Let's face it: for a whole variety of reasons (mostly involving changes in technology), public opinion polls are becoming increasingly unreliable. But one chief deficiency of polls is getting at measuring who is actually going to vote--who is going to make the investment of their time and effort to actually get out and vote. If you can't approximate that, the poll isn't going to have any predictive worth. A different approach is to measure not what people want to happen, but what they think will happen, and requiring some sort of barrier of cost as a means to get them to accurately reveal their information. What's needed, in short, is some sort of efficient market. Hence, the utility of political futures markets. But what separates Tradesports.com from other markets is both the volume as well as the amount wagered---we are talking about a serious amount of money.
My hypothesis has been that the futures markets will reveal major shifts well before the polls, a theory which so far is doing quite well.
(Here are the earlier posts in this series: The Rise and Fall of Dean-O and the Come-out-of-nowhere Kerry surge Jan 4, Jan 9 (the "has Dean peaked?" post, Jan 20, Jan 25, Jan 28, the beginning of my Electoral College markets analysisFeb 7a, Feb 7b, Feb 12, Feb 18, March 18, April 19)
Here, for example, is the chart showing the rise and fall of Howard Dean; the closer the market price gets to $100 the more people think the event in question is going to happen:
To date, 100,520 contracts traded for a potential value of $100 have been wagered on Dean-O.
Recent news:
The Torch Burns Out and the Prison Causes a Bounce
This chart shows the progress of the "Torch Kerry" campaign of last week--ie, after the whole Medals melt down the move on some parts in the Democratic media to dump Kerry while there's still time, ala Bob Toricelli in the 02 Senate campaign. The chart is a measurement of the value of the "Kerry gets the nomination" contract, which if he does becomes valued at $100:
Clearly, the Torch Kerry flame burned out rather quickly.
This shows what drives Kerry supporters and anti-Bush people nuts, as well as leading most political science types and others to scratch their heads: here's the betting public believing the odds of Bush winning reelection RISING as the whole prison scandal blows up (showing the value of the contract the Dubya wins the election):
The Electoral College
The neat feature that this market provides is betting on the electoral college outcome in each individual state, rather than a general opinion poll. Again, the value here is in people staking money on what they think is going to happen, rather than a no-cost statement of what they want to happen.
Here's the history of the market so far on the likelihood of Dubya winning Ohio:
Here's the history of the market over the same period of time for Pennsylvania:
When I get a chance later today or tomorrow I'm going to update the full Electoral College analysis using the parameters and categories I created in the Feb 7 posts (see the link above).
Osama October Surprise?
Here's the market on whether Osama will be captured or certified dead by Dec. 31:
The prospect of the Iraqi Sovereignty tradeoff happening on schedule is trading at $85, a very high likelihood.
RANDOM STROLL THROUGH THE ARCHIVES: Here's my favorite post so far on Llamabutchers: How blogs are like the newspapers of the early republic.
A regular feature of our campaign coverage has been following the futures market in the outcome of the election over at British bookie house Tradesports.com. As I always say, this is not an endorsement or advertisement for gambling; rather, it's a different approach using political science to get at predicting the outcome of the election. Let's face it: for a whole variety of reasons (mostly involving changes in technology), public opinion polls are becoming increasingly unreliable. But one chief deficiency of polls is getting at measuring who is actually going to vote--who is going to make the investment of their time and effort to actually get out and vote. If you can't approximate that, the poll isn't going to have any predictive worth. A different approach is to measure not what people want to happen, but what they think will happen, and requiring some sort of barrier of cost as a means to get them to accurately reveal their information. What's needed, in short, is some sort of efficient market. Hence, the utility of political futures markets. But what separates Tradesports.com from other markets is both the volume as well as the amount wagered---we are talking about a serious amount of money.
My hypothesis has been that the futures markets will reveal major shifts well before the polls, a theory which so far is doing quite well.
(Here are the earlier posts in this series: The Rise and Fall of Dean-O and the Come-out-of-nowhere Kerry surge Jan 4, Jan 9 (the "has Dean peaked?" post, Jan 20, Jan 25, Jan 28, the beginning of my Electoral College markets analysisFeb 7a, Feb 7b, Feb 12, Feb 18, March 18, April 19)
Here, for example, is the chart showing the rise and fall of Howard Dean; the closer the market price gets to $100 the more people think the event in question is going to happen:
To date, 100,520 contracts traded for a potential value of $100 have been wagered on Dean-O.
Recent news:
The Torch Burns Out and the Prison Causes a Bounce
This chart shows the progress of the "Torch Kerry" campaign of last week--ie, after the whole Medals melt down the move on some parts in the Democratic media to dump Kerry while there's still time, ala Bob Toricelli in the 02 Senate campaign. The chart is a measurement of the value of the "Kerry gets the nomination" contract, which if he does becomes valued at $100:
Clearly, the Torch Kerry flame burned out rather quickly.
This shows what drives Kerry supporters and anti-Bush people nuts, as well as leading most political science types and others to scratch their heads: here's the betting public believing the odds of Bush winning reelection RISING as the whole prison scandal blows up (showing the value of the contract the Dubya wins the election):
The Electoral College
The neat feature that this market provides is betting on the electoral college outcome in each individual state, rather than a general opinion poll. Again, the value here is in people staking money on what they think is going to happen, rather than a no-cost statement of what they want to happen.
Here's the history of the market so far on the likelihood of Dubya winning Ohio:
Here's the history of the market over the same period of time for Pennsylvania:
When I get a chance later today or tomorrow I'm going to update the full Electoral College analysis using the parameters and categories I created in the Feb 7 posts (see the link above).
Osama October Surprise?
Here's the market on whether Osama will be captured or certified dead by Dec. 31:
The prospect of the Iraqi Sovereignty tradeoff happening on schedule is trading at $85, a very high likelihood.
RANDOM STROLL THROUGH THE ARCHIVES: Here's my favorite post so far on Llamabutchers: How blogs are like the newspapers of the early republic.
Attention Guys!
Brad Edmonds has a handy-dandy guide for determining whether you're a real Red-Blooded Man or a slap-happy Nancy-Boy.
John Wayne or Alan Alda. Your choice.
Brought to you courtesy of the Barking Moonbat.
Brad Edmonds has a handy-dandy guide for determining whether you're a real Red-Blooded Man or a slap-happy Nancy-Boy.
John Wayne or Alan Alda. Your choice.
Brought to you courtesy of the Barking Moonbat.
Wednesday, May 05, 2004
C'est guerre.
to be continued...tomorrow, Darth Chirac, Frank J., and Boba Fett plan their raid on all that's holy and good in the galaxy...
UPDATE: Mr. Persnickity writes in with the following advice:
I think the more formal tone was proper here because A.) He's a Sith Lord, as well as President of France, and B.) He's just informing Frank J. of their relationship, not sure of how he's going to react (light saber in the wazoo? plans to snear at les americans before surrendering to some Germans?
Fortunately, I have a more, er, reliable language instructor.
to be continued...tomorrow, Darth Chirac, Frank J., and Boba Fett plan their raid on all that's holy and good in the galaxy...
UPDATE: Mr. Persnickity writes in with the following advice:
French, in common with most romance languages, distinguishes between the " formal " you and the " informal "
you. The same constructions as the English singular and plural, indeed, the same as the romances singular and
plural.
That's the formal bit.
What it really means is that if you know someone vaguely, you " vous voier " them. You use the second person
plural to say " you ". As you did, " vous " and votre for the possessive.
When you know someone well, then at some inmdeterminate time in the relationship you will switch to " tu toier
", or using the second person singular . " Tu" or " toi " for your etc. One also has to change the verb of
course.
There are a number of relationships where it is simply assumed that it will always be " tu ". Mother to child
for example, and some where it will always be " vous", me to a President.
So, I would think that " Francois, je suis ton Pere " or " toi pere " would be right. Singular anyway.
Actually writing this out I'm getting confused myself, because of course, your point is that they don't know
this, that while they have a father son relationship, they haven't met. So maybe plural is correct.
So confusion. " I am your ( polite form ) father " looks weird as opposed to " I am your ( intimate form )
father ". But in this case may actually be correct.
A way round it ? If some pompous ass like myself picks you up on using the formal form ( ie the plural , vous )
tell them that's the point : while they may be related, and thus should use the singular, they've never
actually met, thus the plural.
So in fact, je suis votre pere, can be defended, but you might want to add that accent if you can work out the
html. A graves above the first e . I think.
I think the more formal tone was proper here because A.) He's a Sith Lord, as well as President of France, and B.) He's just informing Frank J. of their relationship, not sure of how he's going to react (light saber in the wazoo? plans to snear at les americans before surrendering to some Germans?
Fortunately, I have a more, er, reliable language instructor.
Llama Yips!
Go out to our pal Willow, who is providing us with a nice end of the day Whompalanche.
If you don't read her site regularly, you need to start. Fresh, fiesty and not very tolerant of foolishness. Aaaand, if you're really nice, she'll do her Paulie Girl gig!
Could you ask for anything better?
Go out to our pal Willow, who is providing us with a nice end of the day Whompalanche.
If you don't read her site regularly, you need to start. Fresh, fiesty and not very tolerant of foolishness. Aaaand, if you're really nice, she'll do her Paulie Girl gig!
Could you ask for anything better?
What Fraudulent Coalition?
Check out this amazing report of the Salvadoran military's efforts in Iraq, including a genuine example of hand-to-hand combat.
"You hear this snotty phrase 'coalition of the billing' for some of the smaller contingents," said Mr. Kosnett [of the CPA], referring to the apparent eagerness of some nations to charge their Iraq operations to Washington. "The El Sals? No way. These guys are punching way above their weight. They're probably the bravest and most professional troops I've every worked with."
Read the rest of the article to get an understanding of why Mr. Kosnett feels this way. Also be sure to note the behavior of the Spaniards, by way of contrast.
HT to Taranto.
Check out this amazing report of the Salvadoran military's efforts in Iraq, including a genuine example of hand-to-hand combat.
"You hear this snotty phrase 'coalition of the billing' for some of the smaller contingents," said Mr. Kosnett [of the CPA], referring to the apparent eagerness of some nations to charge their Iraq operations to Washington. "The El Sals? No way. These guys are punching way above their weight. They're probably the bravest and most professional troops I've every worked with."
Read the rest of the article to get an understanding of why Mr. Kosnett feels this way. Also be sure to note the behavior of the Spaniards, by way of contrast.
HT to Taranto.
Llama Sighting!
This is kinda cool: the Butcher's Wife was a theatre major in college back in the day. Because she went to a girl's school (yes, dammit, girl's school - I don't even call Wellesley a "woman's college"), they always held open auditions for male cast members for their various productions. Needless to say, I joined right in.
I happened to be poking around on the school site looking for some contact info when I came across this, the cast picture from their 1991 production of John Synge's Playboy of the Western World. I played Jimmy Farrell, a minor character. That's me right in the center of the picture with the flat cap. And the girl on whose shoulder my hand is resting is none other than the BW. (It's not a very good picture, but you get the general idea.)
I have never had so much fun in my life as the time I spent doing theatre productions there - when I should have been studying for law school, of course.
Alas, no pictures from my greatest stage triumph - the 1990 production of Midsummer Night's Dream. I was Lysander in that, the romantic straight man. In rehearsals, the girl playing Hermia opposite me fell on my foot and broke my toe. Then on opening night, my sword-belt broke half-way through a big, ensemble scene, forcing me to do the entire remainder of the choreography one-handed. But still, I easily understand what is meant by being bitten by the acting bug and have never quite got over it.
Once the kids get a bit older, the BW and I have talked about getting into community theatre. One of my ambitions is to play Sir Joseph Porter, KCB in HMS Pinafore:
Now landsmen all, whoever you may be,
if you want to rise to the top of the tree,
if your soul isn't fettered to an office stool,
be careful to be guided by this golden rule:
Stick close to your desks
and never go to sea -
and you ALL may be rulers of the Queen's Na-vee!
(By the way, this is one of the umpteen zillion jokes to which I've heard Queen Victoria's famous "We are not amused" response attributed. Don't know if that's true or not.)
UPDATE: Too lazy to follow the link, but want to know what Robbo really looks like?
No worries!

This is kinda cool: the Butcher's Wife was a theatre major in college back in the day. Because she went to a girl's school (yes, dammit, girl's school - I don't even call Wellesley a "woman's college"), they always held open auditions for male cast members for their various productions. Needless to say, I joined right in.
I happened to be poking around on the school site looking for some contact info when I came across this, the cast picture from their 1991 production of John Synge's Playboy of the Western World. I played Jimmy Farrell, a minor character. That's me right in the center of the picture with the flat cap. And the girl on whose shoulder my hand is resting is none other than the BW. (It's not a very good picture, but you get the general idea.)
I have never had so much fun in my life as the time I spent doing theatre productions there - when I should have been studying for law school, of course.
Alas, no pictures from my greatest stage triumph - the 1990 production of Midsummer Night's Dream. I was Lysander in that, the romantic straight man. In rehearsals, the girl playing Hermia opposite me fell on my foot and broke my toe. Then on opening night, my sword-belt broke half-way through a big, ensemble scene, forcing me to do the entire remainder of the choreography one-handed. But still, I easily understand what is meant by being bitten by the acting bug and have never quite got over it.
Once the kids get a bit older, the BW and I have talked about getting into community theatre. One of my ambitions is to play Sir Joseph Porter, KCB in HMS Pinafore:
Now landsmen all, whoever you may be,
if you want to rise to the top of the tree,
if your soul isn't fettered to an office stool,
be careful to be guided by this golden rule:
Stick close to your desks
and never go to sea -
and you ALL may be rulers of the Queen's Na-vee!
(By the way, this is one of the umpteen zillion jokes to which I've heard Queen Victoria's famous "We are not amused" response attributed. Don't know if that's true or not.)
UPDATE: Too lazy to follow the link, but want to know what Robbo really looks like?
No worries!

Life In Your Nation's Capitol
INDC Bill may be looking for a new job soon after calling his bosses on some particularly grotesque moonbattery.
It truly is amazing what passes for nuanced, sophisticated political thought 'round here.
As I noted in a comment to Bill's piece, every now and again one of the lefties at my own firm will get after me about the latest outrages of the Vast Right Wing Conspiracy. My invariable reply is to smile thinly and promise to bring up their concerns at the next meeting. This usually shuts them up. The sweet part is that they're never quite sure if I'm kidding or not.
Heh. Let 'em wonder.
INDC Bill may be looking for a new job soon after calling his bosses on some particularly grotesque moonbattery.
It truly is amazing what passes for nuanced, sophisticated political thought 'round here.
As I noted in a comment to Bill's piece, every now and again one of the lefties at my own firm will get after me about the latest outrages of the Vast Right Wing Conspiracy. My invariable reply is to smile thinly and promise to bring up their concerns at the next meeting. This usually shuts them up. The sweet part is that they're never quite sure if I'm kidding or not.
Heh. Let 'em wonder.
We Wants It!
This looks like a healthy antidote to all the Bush-bashing books that have come out lately. (As a general rule, I don't pay much attention to "insider" political books, but once in a while they're kind of fun.)
Note to John Kerry: When a Texan says he's going to make you "regret" something, you'd better consider climbing a tall tree and pulling it up after you.
Among the snippets Drudge is ladling out, this one caught my fancy:
* On the way to his infamous landing on an aircraft carrier, Bush toyed with his Secret Service agent by intentionally shaking the plane from side to side and then nosing downward so sharply they lifted out of their seats.
Heh. I can just see that. And remember, the guy was a fighter-jock.
This looks like a healthy antidote to all the Bush-bashing books that have come out lately. (As a general rule, I don't pay much attention to "insider" political books, but once in a while they're kind of fun.)
Note to John Kerry: When a Texan says he's going to make you "regret" something, you'd better consider climbing a tall tree and pulling it up after you.
Among the snippets Drudge is ladling out, this one caught my fancy:
* On the way to his infamous landing on an aircraft carrier, Bush toyed with his Secret Service agent by intentionally shaking the plane from side to side and then nosing downward so sharply they lifted out of their seats.
Heh. I can just see that. And remember, the guy was a fighter-jock.
Moonbat Self-Flagellation Watch - Update
Earlier I wrote about the Abu Ghraib prisoner business and my fear that the event would be used by anti-war types here to sap U.S. morale and resolve, cover us with guilt and self-loathing and cause us to slink away in craven, disastrous retreat.
Well, Phillip Kennicott is at it over at the WaPo (registration required).
Here is his money graf:
But these photos are us. Yes, they are the acts of individuals (though the scandal widens, as scandals almost inevitably do, and the military's own internal report calls the abuse "systemic"). But armies are made of individuals. Nations are made up of individuals. Great national crimes begin with the acts of misguided individuals; and no matter how many people are held directly accountable for these crimes, we are, collectively, responsible for what these individuals have done. We live in a democracy. Every errant smart bomb, every dead civilian, every sodomized prisoner, is ours.
I also mentioned an inevitable My Lai comparison earlier. Kennicott doesn't quite hit that, but he comes close:
These photos show us what we may become, as occupation continues, anger and resentment grows and costs spiral. There's nothing surprising in this. These pictures are pictures of colonial behavior, the demeaning of occupied people, the insult to local tradition, the humiliation of the vanquished. They are unexceptional. In different forms, they could be pictures of the Dutch brutalizing the Indonesians; the French brutalizing the Algerians; the Belgians brutalizing the people of the Congo.
There you have it - We're not liberators, we're just the same ol' Western Imperialist Dogs out to stomp on some poor Third World Shmucks. And those treadmarks left all over their backs are from all of our collective boots. America is bad. America is evil! And we are America:
Not quite 50 years ago, Aime Cesaire, a poet and writer from Martinique, wrote in his "Discourse on Colonialism": "First we must study how colonization works to decivilize the colonizer, to brutalize him in the true sense of the word, to degrade him, to awaken him to buried instincts, to covetousness, violence, race hatred, and moral relativism."
Are we decivilized yet? Are we brutes yet? Of course not, say our leaders.
I've got a bad feeling this isn't the last of this sort of thing we'll see.
Earlier I wrote about the Abu Ghraib prisoner business and my fear that the event would be used by anti-war types here to sap U.S. morale and resolve, cover us with guilt and self-loathing and cause us to slink away in craven, disastrous retreat.
Well, Phillip Kennicott is at it over at the WaPo (registration required).
Here is his money graf:
But these photos are us. Yes, they are the acts of individuals (though the scandal widens, as scandals almost inevitably do, and the military's own internal report calls the abuse "systemic"). But armies are made of individuals. Nations are made up of individuals. Great national crimes begin with the acts of misguided individuals; and no matter how many people are held directly accountable for these crimes, we are, collectively, responsible for what these individuals have done. We live in a democracy. Every errant smart bomb, every dead civilian, every sodomized prisoner, is ours.
I also mentioned an inevitable My Lai comparison earlier. Kennicott doesn't quite hit that, but he comes close:
These photos show us what we may become, as occupation continues, anger and resentment grows and costs spiral. There's nothing surprising in this. These pictures are pictures of colonial behavior, the demeaning of occupied people, the insult to local tradition, the humiliation of the vanquished. They are unexceptional. In different forms, they could be pictures of the Dutch brutalizing the Indonesians; the French brutalizing the Algerians; the Belgians brutalizing the people of the Congo.
There you have it - We're not liberators, we're just the same ol' Western Imperialist Dogs out to stomp on some poor Third World Shmucks. And those treadmarks left all over their backs are from all of our collective boots. America is bad. America is evil! And we are America:
Not quite 50 years ago, Aime Cesaire, a poet and writer from Martinique, wrote in his "Discourse on Colonialism": "First we must study how colonization works to decivilize the colonizer, to brutalize him in the true sense of the word, to degrade him, to awaken him to buried instincts, to covetousness, violence, race hatred, and moral relativism."
Are we decivilized yet? Are we brutes yet? Of course not, say our leaders.
I've got a bad feeling this isn't the last of this sort of thing we'll see.
Let's Google-Bomb Ted Rall
So I was out in the vegetable garden spreading about 480 pounds of manure, and I got to thinking....what's the best way to mess with Ted Rall?
How about this: let's start the MOAB of Google Bombs on dear old Ted.
Now let's go out and get him! Bombs away!
So I was out in the vegetable garden spreading about 480 pounds of manure, and I got to thinking....what's the best way to mess with Ted Rall?
How about this: let's start the MOAB of Google Bombs on dear old Ted.
Scumbag
Lower than whale shit
Can't draw
No talent
Man-Sheep Love Association
And of course,
Tiny penis
Now let's go out and get him! Bombs away!
Heh
Poor ol' Senator Kerry can't catch a break. Now he's getting fragged by his own Swift Boat crew over the matter of acceptable campaign staff diversity.
That's so....so....insensitive!
Poor ol' Senator Kerry can't catch a break. Now he's getting fragged by his own Swift Boat crew over the matter of acceptable campaign staff diversity.
That's so....so....insensitive!
Great new stuff over at Parameters
I haven't had a chance in awhile to go over and check out the new issue of P
I haven't had a chance in awhile to go over and check out the new issue of P