it comes in pints?

Outta here

Catch you on the flip side, kids.

Swearblogger Roundup

I can't think of a more fitting day to give everyone the heads up on an idea that is long overdue: The Swearblogger Roundup. Fuckin' bring that shit on!

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

This one is dedicated to "Baby Boomers." I'm sick and tired of "Baby Boomers" force-feeding me stories about how wonderful and inspiring and inventive and interesting "Baby Boomers" are. For fucks' sake, your wonderful and inspiring and inventive and interesting generation invented the idea of popular gross indulgence, laziness, art for weird's sake and nothing else that is tirelessly argued as important because it "makes people think" (no, it doesn't, you condescending fuck turds) and passive parenting. Thanks to that wonderful contribution, your grandspawn are all now a bunch of fat little fucks who only have the supreme goal in life of making the high score on Doom III and consider the fact that they have the 26th most popular Star Wars fan site on the internet to be an achievement. And they're not ten. They're twenty-two.

Of course I'm making sweeping generalizations here and that's what the Friday fuck off thread is for. But I swear, if I see one more story, book, news report or PBS special about how wonderful and inspiring and inventive and interesting "Baby Boomers" are...oh, just FUCK OFF.

And while you're at it, fuck off with your incense and peppermints warped memory about the idealism of the 60s. With the exception of the music, the sixties sucked ass and can FUCK OFF. It's bad enough that the Manson Family, Altamont and Kent State didn't suffice to crush your romanticized nostalgia of a decade that was nothing more than a bunch of teenagers throwing a temper tantrum and making excuses about "expanding their minds" when all they were really doing was being irresponsible and getting high.

Your turn.

Utterly appalling

I may attempt to transcribe some later but you have to hear this. "Peace activists" [are*] so often scum. [*Yeah, I finally noticed]

From this day, to the ending of the world...

Annika reminded me to note, belatedly, that yesterday was St. Crispian's Day. On that day in 1415, the longbows of Henry V's outnumbered and exhausted English army annihilated the flower of French chivalry at Agincourt. Henry did not actually conquer France there and then, but the battle opened the door to his ultimate victory (though he died of dysentery in 1422); his son, Henry VI, as an infant, was the only person ever actually crowned as both King of England and King of France.

But of course, it's Shakespeare and not the historians who made Henry V immortal, and I can never get tired of this:

Jeez

What is it with dogs and slippers?

Musical Geography Question

Brian's been busy, and since my brain is fried from about eight hours already of spreadsheets and new product documentation, I thought I'd do one for fun.

Where are going on a run to have a little fun?

[UPDATE] Adding a hint because I'll be leaving this veil of tears early this afternoon for a while (Good Lord willing and the work don't blow up) and I want an answer before I get out of town:

You're also going in a whirl to see your girl.

Second update: I'm heading out of town shortly but rather than post the answer I'll just leave it open until I get back to see if anyone gets it.

More giggles

For the math and physics geeks among us. Via rightwingprof.

No officer, I don't know how fast I was going. But I know exactly where I am.
- Werner Heisenberg at traffic stop

Chuckle

Man oh man

This is brilliant.

David Zucker is a freakin' genius.

An astute observation

Indeed.

UPDATE: And very timely indeed. I'm currently humming "Time is Tight" to relieve a sudden onset offrustration and unbridled exasperation.

Un-BEEPING-Believable

A few weeks back, I made this news regarding the prodcution of the latest Die Hard movie the subject of our now-traditional Friday bitch-off.

I just heard word that they've been granted their permit and will be allowed to close down a major street into LAX AND parts of the 105 Freeway for up to two weeks.

Un.

Friggin'.

Believable.

The worst part, aside from the fact that this is going to make life a living hell for everybody, including me, that lives in the area or needs to get to the airport, is that you can't find any news about it anywhere, outside of reports about the initial controversy. They are literally days away from filming and there have been no press releases or any kind of plans for diverting traffic made available to the public. It's almost like they want to keep it quiet until it's actually underway so that nobody can do anything about it. Except, of course, sit in traffic, lose thousands of dollars in business revenue, miss flights and appointments and deliver millions of tons of domestic and international cargo past deadlines because the hundreds and hundreds of trucks that rely on those roads have been re-routed to smaller avenues that are already busy enough on their own.

Like I said, un-friggin'-believable. The City of Los Angeles and the producers of that movie can just SUCK IT. Assholes.

UPDATE: I finally got a hold of the location manager and what he sent me in response is below.

/
LIVE FREE
ORDIE HARD
LOCATION DEPARTMENT
20th Century Fox 100 Universal City Plaza, Building 9128, Suite E, Universal City CA 91608 (818) 733-2285 Office (818) 866-1389 Fax
To recapitulate our meetings re: filming at Imperial Highway:
Prep Dates: October 26, 27, 30, 31
.
Lane Closures - One lane will be closed from 7am until 7pm on all prep days.
Film Crew Work - On Imperial Highway, east of Douglas, a fence will be added
on the median strip, to be used as a set piece. Building the fence involves putting bolts into the median surface to erect a pillar. Sleeves will also be installed to add posts for the fence.
.
Filming Dates: November 2,3,4,5, 8,9, 10,11,12,18,19 (Bold are weekends)
.
Lane/Street/Highway Closures:
Imperial Highway eastbound - Nash Street to Aviation Blvd. will have full closure From 9am until 4pm every day
Imperial Highway westbound - Aviation to Nash will be closed from 9am to 7pm on weekdays and from 9am until 7pm on weekends with the following exceptions:
One lane will be kept open whenever possible to allow for airport cargo traffic
Local access would be made possible at the following locations: Douglas Street at Atwood Street to get to:
East entrance Kilroy Center
2300 Imperial
Nash Street - From Atwood to Imperial, Nash would be made to run 2 ways to allow traffic to go north to access Imperial West and to get to the airport from Douglas St. (this will be done via police officers, cones, and barricades).
Century Freeway 1-105 - Closure on weekends only - Nov. 4,5 and 11,12 and 18,19
Eastbound lanes from Sepulveda to La Cienega
Connectors from 1-105 east to 405 north and 405 south
Westbound lanes from 405 to Sepulveda will be closed on Nov. 5 and Nov. 12 only from 5am until 7am. '

..,..
9
LIVE FREE
ORDIE HARD
LOCATION DEPARTMENT
Note: A lane will be open whenever possible on eastbound lanes and westbound lanes will have rolling breaks.
.
Film Crew Work - On Imperial Highway, a truck and several cars will be precision driving each day of filming. At one point, the truck will drive across the median strip
and crash into the constructed fence built by the film company. The film company will be using explosives and gunfire with squib hits.
On weekends only, there will be a helicopter flying. They will not be involved in the stunts directly, but they will be there to film an aerial POV. The film company will be in compliance the city and with the control tower at LAX at all times.
In conclusion, safety is always first. We will do everything in our power to maintain public safety as well as the safety of our crew.
There are two hundred and fifty southern California residents on our cast, crew and staff. Weare grateful to all of you for your efforts to keep our jobs here at home.
Sincerely,
Curtis Collins Location Manager (Telephone number deleted with hesitation-E)
Chris Campbell
Key Assistant Location Manager (Ditto - E)

Comment of the Week

At Marc's house, who noted that he managed to let "UN Day" pass yesterday without worthy fanfare. The best part of the post was a comment by someone called JP Gibb. "Celebrating UN Day by not doing anything seems appropriate, somehow."

"Huh?" here too

This confuses me too.

Apparently there are a fair number of men who have sex with other men who do NOT identify as either gay (homosexual is such a non-PC term today) or bisexual. Huh?

Must be them damn metrosexuals. I blame Karl Rove, of course.

That's different

Manual spam. Written with specific responses to the actual content of the actual posts.

But still spam, nonetheless.

A new addition to the family

Daughters Number One and Two now have a new little bro:

We went to the local animal shelter on Sunday and he just looked up at us with the sweetest little eyes. He was a stray, very skinny, with a small leg problem (possible puppyhood injury), and they guess him to be about two years old.

We played with him for about a half hour and decided he was ours. He wasn't available for adoption until yesterday, so the Sainted Bride went there at lunch to fill out the papers. She couldn't pick him up until today because he had to have certain surgeries (hence the Conehead), but he was waiting when I got home from work tonight.

We haven't come up with a name yet, but we're leaning toward "Wily" because in some of the pictures we took to send to the kids, he looks like a vaguely psychotic coyote.

See what I mean? His sisters have been ordered to come up with name nominations so we'll see what they say. If anyone has any suggestions, I'd love to hear them. But I'm still leaning toward "Wily".

Work update

It's still heavy, but at least today I get to use CHAPS.

I just thought you'd like to know that.

75 lo-cal MBP points to anyone who gets the joke.

UPDATE: Ha ha! In a strange way, this post seems a good one to link to, even if he doesn't mention CHAPS.

Philosophical Question

If a tree falls at Gallaudet University, does it make a sound?

This is potentially a gold mine of tasteless humor. I wish I had time to explore it thoroughly. Please feel free to fill in for me.

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

This one is dedicated to CNN.

You make me sick. Take your news, wad it up into a little ball, dip it in anthrax, marinade it in nitroglycerin, coat it with semtex, stuff it up your bunghole, then fart and light match right under your ass, but please, not before you FUCK OFF.

Recess

"Recess is a time when accidents can happen."

I don't think "NO SHIT" covers this and can't decide if I'm more pissed off at the school or the stupid sue-happy schmucks that drove them to this.

I feel the earth move under my feet...

Seventeen years ago today, also on a Tuesday.

I have always maintained that it's bad enough for the Giants to be in the World Series, and it's bad enough for the A's to be in the Series, but apparently even God can't take the thought of both of them in the Series [but see below for why it was actually great that the game was at Candlestink Park that day].

This is long and mostly personal, just so you are forewarned. Also, I've been writing it in tiny chunks for a few days without a good block of time to edit the whole, so if it's a little clunky blame it on work.

We lived in Santa Cruz in 1989, less than 10 miles from the epicenter, which was in the Forest of Nisene Marks State Park not far from a small mountain called Loma Prieta known for its association with a well known rock band. Fortunately for us, we were away on vacation at the time. When it hit, we were on a shuttle bus between Disneyland and our hotel. Someone on the bus had a radio tuned to the World Series, which was how we heard of it within minutes of the quake.

As soon as we got to the hotel, we attempted to call our tenants back home. Naturally, we couldn't get through because all the rest of the country was trying to call into the Bay Area, so we just stayed in the room and watched the news. The San Francisco TV stations all had generators and were broadcasting (though to only those folks with their own generators, of course, since the power was out in the entire area). The SoCal stations picked up the feeds from SF so we watched the local coverage as it happened.

We knew the epicenter was in the Santa Cruz area, so it was a bit disconcerting to hear things on the news such as "Death and Destruction in San Francisco! Death and Destruction in Oakland! Death and Destruction in San Jose! We can't get any news out of Santa Cruz County." We had an image of the entire county flattened by the forces of nature; we were extremely concerned about our houses, which had been built sometime around 1920 and certainly not up to modern earthquake codes.

It's not surprising they couldn't get any news out of Santa Cruz. The power was out, the phone lines were clogged (but not out, at least not many areas were out), and main route over the Santa Cruz Mountains was closed - we later learned that some of the Sainted Bride's coworkers were on the highway at the time and had some fun dodging boulders and crevices. Highway 1 also sustained major damage, both north and south of Santa Cruz.

Of course, the news outside of Santa Cruz County was bad enough, especially on the Cypress Freeway in Oakland. The earthquake hit at 5:04 p.m., the heart of rush hour. The collapse of the Cypress Structure was feared to have killed as many as 3,000 people. Because so many had left work early to see the World Series, though, the total was only 42. In fact, the entire death toll from the quake was only 63 - a minor miracle itself.

Finally, after midnight, our tenants managed to get hold of us to let us know that the houses were still standing with no major damage obvious. We decided against returning early; with aftershocks and power outages, there didn't seem to be much we could do in the first couple of days anyway, so we just stayed where we were for a couple of days. We called people as we got the chance. Everyone we knew was okay and coping.

I called work to ask my associate "Hey baby, what's SHAKIN'!" She was amused and filled me in on the haps, which included her being chased across the lab by a rolling freezer and a dispenser that committed suicide by jumping off a lab bench. Oh, yeah, and the VP who walked around the company the day after the quake to make goddam sure that every single person who didn't show up that day got docked vacation time for it. Motherfucker.

Thursday or Friday, we took off for home. We stopped to drop the kids off with grandparents and went home to start the cleanup and survey the damage. Fortunately, it was mostly minor through blind, shit-ass luck. Before leaving for vacation, we had run the dishwasher and most of our everyday dishes were in it. The cabinet where they normally lived was shaken empty of the few things left in it, but being almost empty at the time, little was lost. The good china, including some heirloom pieces, were in a built-in hutch but as it happened, the shaking was in one direction, and that direction was side-to-side in that hutch - not piece of china fell out or broke. Had it shaken in the orthogonal direction...[shudder].

But there was some heavier damage. The freezer had toppled and the door opened. Much of the meat in it was thawed and spoiled (several hundred dollars worth). What was partially thawed but not spoiled, we donated to a food bank rather than try to refreeze, and a little was still frozen solidly enough to keep.

We had the house inspected at the first opportunity by the overworked gummint folks. There was a large crack in the chimney and it had to be replaced. As it turns out, this was also a stroke of luck because the 70-year-old chimney was found to have its mortar mostly burned out (this was found by the contractor demolishing it with one blow of a sledge hammer; it collapsed into a pile of bricks).

The inspection also found that the house was not bolted to the foundation. It is a sheer miracle that it did not collapse as so many others did. One corner actually came within an inch of shaking off its support (whatever those upright 4x4 wood things are called), which would have torn out that entire end of the house. But it didn't and all in all, we came through it okay. It cost several thousand to bolt the house to the foundation and replace the fireplace. Actually, the saddest part aside from the outflow of hard-earned dollars was loss of an incredibly efficient, 30" Lopi fireplace insert. Crank it up and that bad boy could drive you out of the room. We couldn't afford to build a real fireplace so the new one was a zero-clearance job, more decorative than functional. To add a bit of insult, we had just a few months before taken down (whew!) a large tree that threatened the house, acquiring about three cords of firewood that would have been so nice to burn in that insert. Sigh.

We cleaned up the mess, picked up the kids, and got on with life. I even managed to get back to work, despite the damage on Highway 17, on the day I was supposed to be back by the simple expedient of driving about 30 or 40 miles out of the way. Carpooling in police-escorted convoys over the hill continued for about a month until the highway was completely reopened.

Still, despite these minor irritations, we were fine and the property was mostly fine. That's a lot more than can be said for a lot of folks. And despite all the damage, no one bitched at FEMA for not rescuing people. Instead, benefits were organized, people pitched in, and lives were put back together.

A year after, another large benefit was put together on the anniversary of the quake. Several hundred people converged on the Santa Cruz Boardwalk for a mass rendition of "Shake, Rattle, and Roll". We didn't attend but we could hear it from home several miles away. This became a bit of a tradition, and may even continue today; I know it continued past when we moved.

For some indication of just how widespread and devastating the damage was, browse here.

300 Million

Oh, for goodness' sake. Anybody that complains about global over-population that does not immediately follow their doomsday whinings with an offer to commit suicide to help alleviate the problem, will you please shut the hell up? Because otherwise, all you're really saying is that you are entitled to live where millions of others are not.

Happy 300 million, America. It's kind of cool that the ultimate tribute to passing the milestone should come from an Aussie.

The Scablands

A Geologic Passion Play and Part-time Morality Tale in About Forty Parts.

This is a story about Billie Joe and Bobby Sue Glacial Flow and Lake Missou The Scablands, a geologic formation in Washington State.

Warning: Science Content!

Long, long ago in a state far, far away (13,000 to 15,000 years ago in eastern Washington, to be a little more precise), there existed a vast glacial lake called Lake Missoula. That's actually what we call it now; we don't really know what it was called back then. Possibly "Steve", but we can't be sure. It actually wasn't even in Washington but some distance to the east, but Washington became an innocent (excepting Seattle, of course) civilian casualty of the Lake Missoula Floods, no relation to the St. Louis Floods.

Lake Missoula was formed during the last Great Ice Age. Vast snows and glaciers covered the landscape until global warming, perhaps caused by carbon dioxide emissions from Pleistocene SUVs such as the Wooly Mammoth, caused all the snow and glaciers to melt. We can't be certain of the actual cause of the warming, but probably George Bush and Halliburton were involved.

In any case, Lake Missoula formed from the meltwaters of glaciers and accumulated snow, a vast repository of dihidrogen monoxide just itching to cause damage. And it did. Lake Missoula was held in check by one small ice dam. The brave little dam held on as long as he could but he was no match for the combined forces of Global Warming and EKKKxxon. The dam broke and a torrent of water half the volume of Lake Michigan poured down the Columbia River. The deluge scoured the valley causing death and destruction, and leaving in its wake nothing but vast wastelands, scarred rock, and the blight we call disco.

On the theory, apparently, that anything worth doing is worth overdoing, Lake Missoula repeated this performance about 40 times over the course of 2,000 years, yet still never managed to take out Seattle.

The Morality Tale part of the story? Well, as events unfolded last week, it occurred to me that the story of Lake Missoula can be a pretty good metaphor for work in these days of several projects coming to a head almost simultaneously. Couple that with a few days off already scheduled (originally planned to deliberately NOT coincide with this stage of the projects, but that went out the frickin' window when the development milestones started slipping, unlike the market deadline which supposedly hasn't) and the upcoming deer season (which will NOT be missed for any reason short of death or dismemberment), leaving even less time to do the many things that need to happen once the last barriers crumble and the projects fall totally into my lap, and the prognosis begins to look like floods and scablands.

Which is a long-winded way of saying that blog output may be somewhat sparser than usual for the next several weeks.

The myth continues

Dave E. shreds an Associated Press story propagating the new lies about the Battle of Iraq.

Wherein I admit to being a sartorial snob

Well, I'm a snob about a lot of things, but this post I'm limiting to clothes. I like getting "dressed up" and I have for as long as I can remember. It's not that I DISLIKE dressing casually--I don't--just that it feels right to me for there to be a time and a place for everything. Now it may help that mine is, in many ways, the most conservative of all professions, at least in matters of taste and formality, but that's not the crux of it: a well-made suit simply makes ANY man look better, period.

I like how I feel in one and God knows on the thankfully rare occasions that the A/C's gone off in the courtroom, as much as I appreciate my judge's indulgence in removing my jacket, there's a little something that feels out of whack about that. A hand-tailored "bespoke" suit...well, that's a genuine work of art and an order of magnitude higher up. Maybe this has to do in part with the fact that my mom went to Parson's and then apprenticed with Christian Dior (the man, not just the company) in Paris in the mid-60's, meaning I've been around such things my whole life; I don't really know.

Why I am mentioning all this? Because, thanks to Russell, I just read this piece here and I don't think I could agree with it more. Sometimes I even wish men's hats would make a comeback.

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

This one's dedicated to shit neighbors.

To the shit neighbors that can't seem to register that they're living in an apartment building with over one hundred other people who might need to use the four laundry machines too and leave their clothes both wet and dry lingering in the washer and dryer for hours after they're done. FUCK OFF AND PICK UP YOUR FUCKING LAUNDRY, ASSHOLE.

To the shit neighbors next door with the two Rottweilers the size of ponies that they keep unleashed in their front yard who routinely run to the gate and jump high enough to frighten me to fear for my life as they bark angrily at me for having the nerve to walk past their house on a public sidewalk, all the while with their owners standing fondly by, saying in a gentle voice "now, now Cannibal and Slayer, you stop that," FUCK OFF AND RESTRAIN YOUR FLESH-EATING PETS.

Finally, to the shit neighbors that are too lazy to take their trash down to the dumpster, a task that would require an entire one hundred and twenty-two seconds of their life, and just let it fester and gather flies outside their door so everyone else in the building has to look at it, FUCK OFF AND RISE UP YOUR LAZY ASS TO TAKE OUT YOUR GARBAGE.

Take it away, Val and everyone else. The mic is all yours.

Sexual McCarthyism

Yet again, a liberal supporter of gay rights is being hounded out of a job for his comments.

Oh wait. Maybe it's a rightwing bigot being excoriated for homophobic remarks. Can't tell the players without a scorecard. And a weather vane.
UPDATE: I just realized on rereading this that the portions I excerpted don't exactly make it clear the nature of this "nontraditional" family. It is a gay man and his lesbian friend deciding to have a child together. That's pretty "nontraditional" by anyone's definition.

Longtime Bay Area television news anchorman Pete Wilson has found himself in the headlines this week after criticizing a San Francisco city official for joining a phenomenon flourishing in the region: the nontraditional family.

Well, yes and no. When they hear "nontraditional", most people think of single parents or gay couples. This was a little more involved.

Controversy over Wilson's on-air comments about Supervisor Bevan Dufty and his newborn daughter shot to the highest reaches of city government as Mayor Gavin Newsom weighed in and several members of the Board of Supervisors called for Wilson's head.

Wilson did not apologize for his comments, which he made Tuesday afternoon during a talk radio show he hosts on KGO-AM [Note: that would be the liberal talk radio station] before anchoring the local news each night on ABC 7. But he did say Thursday that his language was "inappropriate."

Well, not from what I can gather from the news stories.

"I let some of my argument move toward the personal. Some of it was inappropriate, some was talk radio sarcastic cheap-shotting, and I did it several times. That was wrong and unfortunate," Wilson said in an interview. "I still believe the argument is a perfectly appropriate argument. I think the argument needs to take place about the number of directions we have gone with parenting and children."

Yes, but you see this San Francisco, where it is wrong to criticize "alternative" lifestyles under any circumstances.

Wilson said he supports same-sex marriage and adoption for same-sex couples and single parents. His problem with the decision by Dufty, who is gay, to have a baby with a friend who is a lesbian is that the couple have no romantic attachment...

"The Dufty-Goldfader baby is, in my mind, a travesty. Or a potential travesty. Perhaps that's a better way of saying it," Wilson said during the first hour of his Tuesday radio program.

Okay, "travesty" may be a tad inappropriate, but I have the same goddamn problem. Childrearing is tough enough for married couples. It's tougher for unmarried couples with an actual attachment. It's tougher still for single parents. I think it takes a very special kind of self-centeredness to do it deliberately to a child. But maybe that's just me.

"At some point, there is a limit to how far we stretch the self-indulgent search for the alternative that we have been involved in the last 30 or 40 years in this country," he said later in the show.

Maybe it's not just me.

Board President Aaron Peskin said it is Wilson's job as a journalist to cover politicians and point out their mistakes, but "it is also our job to tell you and the public when your industry makes a mistake and abuses your power."

Hmm. Apparently, expressing an opinion on a radio opinion show is an abuse of power.

Also demanding that Wilson quit were Supervisors Tom Ammiano, Ross Mirkarimi and Chris Daly.

Wilson having both a talk show and an anchor position creates a conflict of interest, Peskin said.

"KGO has a responsibility to deal with that conflict, and I think the way you deal with that is a resignation," Peskin said.

Wilson has been a local anchor for over 30 years, and has had the radio show for at least a few years. How come this never came up before? Oh, right.

Wilson got some support, though, from an unlikely source:

Dufty...

That's the guy Wilson was criticizing.

...did not attend the press conference but later sent an e-mail to Wilson.

"In no way do I want to see you resign or lose your position over this incident," Dufty wrote in the e-mail, which he forwarded to The Chronicle. "It troubles me that we live in a time of disposability. In other words, that people in public life, press, etc., make a mistake and then have no choice but to resign. I make mistakes and will undoubtedly make them in the future. I try to admit to them and learn from them."

Mr. Dufty seems to be the only grown-up in the bunch. I still disagree with his decision on the child, but good for him.

And some almost-okay comments from Mayor Gavin "Pretty Boy" Newsom:

"I'm not demanding an apology -- he has a right to his opinion. I respect his opinion of their relationship. But he should give some real thought and consideration to the pain he has caused to the parents of Sidney," Newsom said.

Uh, judging by Bevan Dufty's comments above, I say the "pain" was pretty minimal.

And what would we do without more dumb comments from people who don't even understand the point Wilson was trying to make?

Wilson should extend that sympathy to many parents in the Bay Area, said Judith Appel, executive director of Our Family Coalition, a San Francisco organization that promotes families headed by gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people. Appel was one of the first to speak at the press conference.

"We are in an exciting, exciting moment in our families, because we have a whole diverse range of families developing," Appel said.

Yes. The whole point is to promote "diverse" families in any way, shape, or form, and to crush anyone who questions the wisdom of doing it deliberately.

Beyond using the word "travesty", for which Wilson apologized, what exactly did he say that got the leftoids in a uproar? Unless the Chron was very selective in its quoting, it sounds pretty mild:

"I do not now nor have I ever accepted the idea that a baby is a toy, that it is a social science project or a possession. A baby is a human being, a delicate thing, our past, present and future. It is not an experiment. It is not an opportunity to see how far you can carry your views on parenting, alternative lifestyles or diversity in family structures."

"Look around you, folks. You think the high divorce rate in this country has been, generally speaking, good for kids? So, why not start out divorced? See if that'll work."

"Here's an idea: We'll have a 49er impregnate a team cheerleader, and they can raise a mascot. No, it's better not to be in love. You'll be much better parents if all that silly emotional stuff doesn't get in the way ..."

I don't find much to quibble with there. But then, I'm not a thinskinned San Francisco moonbat.

More funnies

Chuckle. Snort.

Panache

You gotta love a candidate with a certain flair for goofy stunts:

BROWNSVILLE, Texas - A Pennsylvania congressional candidate and former reality TV star used an elephant and a six-piece mariachi band for an elaborate political stunt designed to make a point about border security.

Raj Peter Bhakta, who was "fired" by Donald Trump on "The Apprentice" two years ago, paraded an elephant and the band through the water near the mouth of the Rio Grande along the Texas-Mexico border Tuesday.

Giggle.

Speaking truth to power

Juan Williams delivers a stinging op-ed in the LATimes today. Registration is required, so I'm excerpting more than I probably should.

The Hard Facts of Black America
A journalist decried as a turncoat by community leaders defends his views on African Americans helping themselves.

By Juan Williams, JUAN WILLIAMS is a senior correspondent for National Public Radio, a Fox News analyst and author of "Enough: The Phony Leaders, Dead-End Movements, and Culture of Failure That Are Undermining Black America"

October 12, 2006

WHY NOT just go ahead and call me an Uncle Tom and a sellout? Why bother with trying to put a new coat of paint on the same old personal attacks by saying that I am "demeaning black people," that I'm the "black Ann Coulter" and a turncoat against the cause of racial progress for black people in the United States?

That's a sampling of the nastiness flying at me since I wrote a book that holds today's civil rights leaders accountable for serious problems inside black America. I've suggested that many poor people are capable of helping themselves by graduating high school, keeping a job and having children when they're married and ready to be parents.

It is easier to attack me than to deal with some hard facts. Here I go again, but let's look at the facts.

One hard, unforgiving fact is that 70% of black children are born today to single mothers. This is at the heart of the breakdown of the black family, the cornerstone of black life for generations...

It is easier to attack me than to deal with the hard fact of a dropout rate now at about 50% nationwide for black and Latino students...

And what about the tragic fact of a 25% poverty rate among black Americans? That's more than twice the 12% national poverty rate and more than triple the poverty rate among whites.

My critics are busy blaming racism for all this poverty. But that tactic is losing its punch because so many people of color, including black people from Africa and the Caribbean, arrive in this country and outperform native-born black people in educational achievement and income...

The core group of black people trapped in poverty today is not defined by lack of opportunity as much as by bad choices. Black youth culture is boiling over with nihilism... "Keeping it real" and "street cred" in that destructive world require gunshot victims, the "N-word" and treating women as "bitches" and "hos." There is no arguing that this is a sick mind-set...

Yet I'm condemned for asking why today's prominent civil rights leaders, such as Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton and Maxine Waters, are not dealing with these problems. They prefer to call for more government programs and more white guilt.

And yet a poll done by the Pew Research Center a week after Hurricane Katrina found that two-thirds of black Americans agree with 75% of white Americans who say that too many poor people are overly dependent on government programs. In other words, a clear majority of the nation, including most black people, are saying that the poor need to look in the mirror and halt self-defeating behavior...

These are the facts, whether or not you call me a Tom — and whether or not I write them.

Prosecuting "Global Warming Deniers"?

Oh christ. Via George.

NO ONE EXPECTS THE ENVIRO-INQUISITION!

Another Motivational Poster

Sadly, when the creative juices are short-circuited it perhaps doesn't amount to much.

Though it must be pointed out that people like Fred Phelps take much of the persuasiveness out of Glenn Reynolds's arguments against prison rape.

No comment

Far be it from me to spread unsubstantiated rumors, much less to comment on them. So I will not comment on this.

Except to note that "low ratings" seems to be a lifestyle for some people.

UPDATE: Gott helf mir. Ich Kann nicht anders.

Courtesy of the Bingster

Pretty chickenshit if you ask me

So, I suppose you all have read/heard that Youtube.com has apparently censored some material (for example). Just a one-time thing? Well, not quite.

I have recently visited Youtube for this (use of the word "fucking" at least once) and this ("bastards" and "can go to hell", possibly other language). I also seem to remember, without specifically searching for them, some other things I'd prefer that underage children not be overly exposed to.

So guess which video, of all the ones I've seen on Youtube, is the first which demanded that I prove I'm an adult (by logging in, of course) before I can watch it or get any other information at all about it?

This one.

If google's recent past is any indication, I don't like the direction they're heading with their new corporate overlords.

Administrative Crap

It appears as though our provider, Hosting Matters, is having some kind of operational meltdown. Comments, for the the moment, are not showing up. Our apologies in the meantime until this is straightened out. Well, my apologies, at least. Those heartless bastards Ken and Dave probably don't give a crap.

Devil's Playground

I finally got around to seeing that documentary about Amish kids on rumspringa - a time when, at 16 years old, they're released from the strict rules of Amish life and allowed to live like "the english" (as all non-Amish are referred to) - called Devil's Playground. I've got a lot to write about it, but I think it's still too soon after what happened last week, so I'll probably wait a month or so. I do have to say this. If there's one string of words I never, ever thought I'd read in my entire life, it's "...after a raid on the home of Amish drug dealers..."

"Baptists"

I've pretty much ignored Fred Phelps and his gang of quirk morons that are the Westboro Baptists up until now. Partly because people who insist on that certain brand of self-righteous indignation of the "I'm so special because I would never be a meanie like that" variety really get on my nerves. More so than even the meanies. Duh. You are not an extraordinary person because you would not plan and execute and act of extreme cruelty against humankind. There's not a soul among the handful of people that will even read this that would (and if there is, show yourself in the comments so we can outnumber you in telling you what you REALLY are). But as of now, I've had it with these "Baptists." I am ASHAMED to share a country with these people. I figured that a large part of their scheme was just to get attention and for that reason, up until now, I never gave them the satisfaction.

That's changed now. I've been living in between L.A. and and the Psychedelialand that is Humboldt County since I was twelve. My "Live and Let Live" threashold is pretty bloody high. These folks just crossed it. I won't pay the usual lip service to the importance of freedom of speech and religion before I say that, while those things are important, so is the concept of drawing the line if we're going to remain civilized. These "Baptists" can sit in their little church every Sunday and congratulate themselves for being the only humans on Earth that will truly be saved. They can hold focus discussions about the damnation of our war dead. But in our civilization as I see it, showing up at their funerals and taunting their families isn't something any reasonable person should be expected to tolerate.

Does anybody know what makes these Westboro "Baptist" people tick? Has anybody read up about them that can enlighten me? What in the WORLD are they thinking? What is their motivation to show up at the funerals of little murdered dead girls with signs that read "YOUR CHILDREN ARE ROTTING IN HELL"? And at Amish funerals to boot? What the....? Rick Ross? Anyone? Help me out here? Because I think I'm going to be sick. Is there a branch of this "Patriot Guard" I've been reading about in L.A.? If so, where do I join?

Amish Funerals

I don't know why I find this series of photos so moving. Maybe it's because I was so touched after reading this.

A horrible fate for such a gentle people. I hope the little dears are resting in peace.

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

This week, it's dedicated to the producers of Die Hard 9: No, He's Not Too Old For Action Movies or whatever it's called.

You are asking to shut down a major artery into Los Angeles Inter-fucking-national airport in a way that will seriously affect people both professionally and personally. Fuck off for even asking.

But filming advocates say that they will take steps to mitigate inconveniences and argue that such projects are crucial to keeping studios from taking location jobs elsewhere.

TAKE. IT. ELSWHERE. There is no way to "mitigate inconveniences" for that location. Even diverting traffic to the neighboring streets would cause a problem because they're already congested as it is. FUCK OFF.

We're all FATheads at heart

[UPDATE: A few more links added]

For Joel, who's a FAThead.

The KFAT Family Reunion (Doo Doo Wah)

It's a KFAT Family reunion, hello yesteryear.
There's my brother, there's my uncle, there' my mother, there's my son,
My whole FAT family's here.
We came strollin' into town, rock 'n' rollin', get down
Like it was 1983 again.
In commemoration of a renegade station,
Let the party begin.

At the KFAT family reunion the FAT-slap a-happen in the sun.
FAT folks, FAT beer, FAT jokes, yeah we're
FATheads havin' FAT fun
And if you're losin' your hair the family don't care,
Your age and your shape don't matter,
'Cause at the KFAT Family reunion everybody's older and fatter,

At the KFAT family reunion let's wallow in some dirt
We got a big supply of pig to fry and Moose Turd Pie for dessert.
Yeah, and everybody here is a volunteer
We're helpin' our own
We're gonna fatten up some kids and move 'em all in
To a brand new big fat home

Compliments of the KFAT family reunion, the FAT-slap a-happen in the sun
FAT folks, FAT beer, FAT jokes, yeah we're
FATheads havin' FAT fun
And if you're losin' your hair the family don't care,
Your age and your shape don't matter
'Cause at the KFAT Family reunion everybody's older and fatter

I'm gonna say hello to all the fatties I know.
I'm gonna give my best
To all the DJs I admired before the all got fired
By the chickenshitt Wuss of the West
We're gonna dance and play all day
Until there ain't no light
And then the Free Mexican Air Force
Will be flyin' tonight

Right here at the KFAT Family reunion, the FAT-slap a-happen in the sun
FAT folks, FAT beer, FAT jokes, yeah we're
FATheads havin' FAT fun
And if you're losin' your hair the family don't care,
Your age and your shape don't matter
'Cause at the KFAT Family reunion everybody's older and fatter

Yeah, at the KFAT Family reunion everybody's older and fatter
(It's good, though!)

HAHA!

It's too fucking funny.

Details private. Shoot me an email if you feel so inclined.

UPDATE: Nothing much, just a random line mostly unconnected to the above but funny nonetheless:

"We're having a lot of fun out here in Twain Harte without getting as tasteless as we'd have to be to do an O.J. song. Here's a little tune about Lorena Bobbitt."

"Get the *Beep* Off My *Beeping* Stage."

After reading one of BAW's typically excellent posts, I brought up the incident at Woodstock where Abbie Hoffman interrupted a performance by The Who to babble his political nonsense to the crowd. Pete Townshend, never a man in love with the utopian hippie ideals of his time, knocked Abbie Hoffman off the stage with his guitar into the press pit, exclaiming "get the fuck off my fucking stage." Hoffman left the festival in a huff shortly after. I have always wanted a picture of that lovely twinkle of Pete giving Hoffman the boot. I meant what I wrote at BAW's site - if I could find one, I would blow it up, frame it and hang it in a place of honor as an altar of worship. She mentioned that she'd like to see a picture of it too, which sent me hunting again. I found this clip on Youtube, but that one beautiful moment has been edited out. I guess it wasn't in keeping with the bogus romanticized "three days of peace, love and music" that's been sugar coated over the years so much that a lot of people don't realize how completely miserable that event went off.

However, there are not words for me to describe the intense contempt and hatred I am feeling right now for the person responsible for that edit. Whoever you are, wherever you are, I hope you burn in the blistering fires of Hell and suffer in agony until the universe is no more.

Well, if true...

...wouldn't this be an interesting twist on the story. Not that the son of a bitch shouldn't have resigned or been thrown out years ago.

I do note an interesting difference from a few years ago, found by THS:

3. Former Rep. Gerry Studds. He was censured for sexual relationship with underage male page in 1983. Massachusetts voters ["Massholes"] returned him to office for six more terms.

Ya gotta love it.

Question for y'all

My friend Julie is looking for opinions on a potential boycott of Citgo. The Evil Oil Conglomerate and Earth Killer™ is backed by Venezuela, home of Friend of the Little People™ and part-time Communist dictator and petty tyrant, Hugo "The Devil Made Me Do It" Chavez. 7-11 has already dropped Citgo as a supplier in response to Chavez's rather rabid comments at the U.N. (frankly, though, I think the comments were Bush league, heh heh; the "dictator and petty tyrant" is enough for me).

Anyway, what are your thoughts? This is one of the many areas on which I don't feel competent to form (much of) an opinion. I've never been much moved by boycotts myself, but sometimes they can be effective. What do you think? Potentially effective? Worth the effort? Just send in some Seals and snuff the bastard?

UPDATE: THS expands on the subject.

I love the new title

Our boy Brian has a new look and a new title.

Boobiethon

It's that time again. Please give generously.

Worst lyrics ever

What are the worst lyrics ever? Cassandra (she of the greatest banner picture ever) wants to know.

Inundate that comments section.

Wow

These guys are good. I placed an online order Sunday afternoon, the stuff arrived today.

"He had a touch of greatness"

He did indeed (Registration required).

I was going to title this post "Night of the Living Dead" until I read the last line of the article. Either title would be appropriate. I've snipped large excerpts, but you absolutely should read the whole thing. I won't indent either, except for my single comment at the end.

His Corps Value Was Bravery
Chris Adlesperger's family, shocked to learn of his heroics in Iraq, later saw how it all made sense. In death, he's been nominated for the Medal of Honor.
By Tony Perry, Times Staff Writer
October 3, 2006

On Nov. 10, 2004, in 30 minutes of close combat, Marine Pfc. Christopher Adlesperger, a soft-spoken, religious young man who loved poetry and art, attacked an enemy stronghold in Fallouja, Iraq, and killed at least 11 insurgents.

He killed them with his M-16 and with his grenade launcher. He killed them at such close range he could hear the blood gurgling in their mouths and noses.

He killed insurgents who were heavily armed and probably high on drugs — and who had just killed his close friend, Lance Cpl. Erick Hodges.

He protected two wounded squad members from attack and saved innumerable Marines.

When it was over, Adlesperger's face had been bloodied by shrapnel and he had bullet holes in the sleeve and collar of his uniform. He refused to be evacuated until Hodges' body was recovered.

"It was a tremendous bit of fighting," said Col. Patrick Malay, the battalion commander. "He was a quiet kid, but he was remarkable. He was one tough bastard."

For his bravery, Adlesperger is among a handful of Marines who have been nominated for the Medal of Honor in Iraq.

A nomination does not ensure that an award will be made. No Marine has been awarded the Medal of Honor for combat occurring since Vietnam.

The nation's highest recognition of bravery is reserved for those who have shown conspicuous gallantry above and beyond the call of duty. In fact, two-thirds of the Medals of Honor awarded to Marines since the beginning of World War II have been posthumous.

If an award is made to Adlesperger, his too will be posthumous.

A month after the firefight for which he has been nominated, Adlesperger led Marines in storming another building where insurgents were hiding. He was shot in the heart and died instantly.

Only after his death did family members here learn of his bravery. At first they were shocked — this was the same person who had once cringed at the thought of shooting birds on a hunting trip. Then they recognized in the details of the firefight the determined youth they knew and loved.

[...]

In boot camp in San Diego, one of Adlesperger's drill instructors quickly instilled the reality of combat as he scanned more than 100 recruits sitting attentively on the exercise field and picked 10 at random to stand up.

"When your company goes to Iraq, this is the number of Marines who won't be coming home alive," the DI barked.

He ordered 10 more to stand. "And this is how many more will die if you don't start listening to me."

Normally self-confident, Adlesperger sounded shaken when he told his mother about the lecture.

[...]

A Search for Insurgents

It may have had a more complex name among the generals, but to the Marines of Kilo Company in the 3rd Battalion, 5th Regiment, it was called the squeegee tactic.

Like window washers trying to clean a grime-streaked window, the Marines would sweep methodically through Fallouja, searching each house for insurgents.

The insurgents, having learned from earlier fights with the Marines, were no longer fighting in the streets. Instead, they waited inside homes, ready to spray bullets as Marines pushed through a door or entryway.

Some had injected themselves with lidocaine, Novocain or adrenaline, allowing them to fight even after receiving mortal wounds, a spectacle the Marines called the "Night of the Living Dead."

The battalion had drawn one of the most dangerous sectors, the Jolan neighborhood in Fallouja's northwest corner, where Marines had encountered stiff fighting during an aborted offensive in April. The houses were close together, and the curving, rubble-filled streets were too narrow to allow the Marines to use tanks.

On Sunday, Nov. 7, Adlesperger led other Marines in a Bible reading. He had been telling his family members in phone calls and e-mails to pray for his fellow Marines.

Shortly after dawn on Nov. 10, the Marines pushed out.

For hours, they faced only minor resistance. A few more buildings and they could stop for the night.

"We had cleared buildings all day, hundreds of them, but on that 101st house, that's the one that gets you, and that's what happened," said Starner, 33, a 14-year Marine veteran.

Like a lot of Iraqi buildings in the Jolan, the structure had a wall around it. There was a courtyard in front of the building and an outdoor stairway leading to the roof.

Adlesperger, acting as the point man for the four-man fire team, had attempted to knock down a gate. Hodges moved forward and was immediately felled by a hail of bullets from inside, probably from a concealed opening in the masonry wall.

As they rushed the house, Navy corpsman Alonso Rogero was hit in the stomach and Lance Cpl. Ryan Sunnerville in the leg. Grainy, shaky film of the incident shows Sunnerville hopping on one leg, still firing his M-16. Marines and insurgents exchanged gunfire from no more than 20 feet. From inside the building, the insurgents also threw grenades.

The insurgents had hoped to spring what is called a Chechen ambush, named after the rebels who have fought Russian troops for years. The tactic is particularly successful when tanks cannot be used.

The strategy, Marines determined later, had been to wound Marines attempting to enter the building. When other Marines came to help them, an insurgent sniper down an alleyway would pick off corpsmen, radio operators and officers. And when enough Marines or vehicles were gathered, insurgents would fire rocket-propelled grenades.

Adlesperger fired at the insurgent machine-gun position as he ran toward Rogero and Sunnerville. He helped the two up the outside stairway to the roof. As insurgents tried to storm the stairway, Adlesperger killed them before they could reach the roof. Shrapnel ripped into his face.

From his rooftop position, he could see insurgents peppering Hodges' lifeless body with bullets, including two to his head. When one ran from the building to seize Hodges' weapon, Adlesperger killed him with a single shot.

Still, the machine-gun position inside the building had not been touched, and it was pinning down Marines gathering to assault the building from the front. With no time to consult officers, and with other Marine units engaged in firefights, Adlesperger was left to his own initiative.

"Chris essentially took over," said Malay.

Unable to penetrate the building with his M-16, Adlesperger shifted to the grenade launcher. Standing on the roof, he blew holes in the building and then rained down gunfire on the insurgents below him. They returned fire and then fled.

From his rooftop position, Adlesperger killed four insurgents who had fled into the courtyard, each with a shot to the head. By Malay's estimate, Adlesperger killed a total of 11 insurgents. The actual number may be higher.

The building had been an insurgent command-and-control center. Failure to quickly subdue it, Malay concluded, could have thrown off the timetable for the Fallouja assault, which depended on speed and keeping U.S. casualties to a minimum.

Marines from adjoining rooftops joined Adlesperger and began preparing the wounded for evacuation. Once that was done and Hodges' body was removed, the Marines pushed in one side of the building with an amphibious assault vehicle. Adlesperger insisted on being the first Marine to search the building to make sure all the insurgents were dead.

That night, Starner went to Adlesperger to gather information for the official report. As Adlesperger spoke, he began to weep — not for the men he had killed, or even for the fact he had had to kill them, but for Hodges, a wisecracking Northern Californian who was on his second combat tour in Iraq and had turned 21 only the day before.

"He just kept saying, 'Hodges, Hodges, we had to get him out,' " Starner said.

Adlesperger, Hodges and Sunnerville were particularly close. Each had been a high school wrestler, each had learned to trust his life to the others.

"We were tight," said Sunnerville, 22, who has recovered from his wounds, been promoted to sergeant and recently finished his third combat tour in Iraq.

On Thanksgiving weekend, with the entire company watching, Adlesperger, who had just turned 20, was promoted to lance corporal because of his actions on Nov. 10. Starner also started talking with Adlesperger about attending sniper school, a prized assignment.

"He was all proud: He was in charge of his own fire team," said Rosela Montoya, 60, Adlesperger's maternal grandmother.

In early December, Central Command ordered a second round of squeegee to catch insurgents who had been overlooked or who had managed to sneak back into the city.

But this time, fewer troops were assigned; some battalions had been redeployed to other cities as the U.S. tried to decrease its Fallouja "footprint" in advance of the city being reopened to residents.

This time, Adlesperger's battalion was assigned to sweep a neighborhood that had been the responsibility of another unit during the initial attack.

"We moved across the Line of Departure, and 20 minutes later Chris was dead," said Malay.

Adlesperger had taken the lead in approaching a nondescript house. He was hit in his armored vest by multiple rounds. The impact spun him around, and one round struck his side, where there were no protective plates. He died instantly from a bullet to the heart.

Starner and other Marines lifted Adlesperger's body onto a Humvee. An air strike demolished the building, burying the living and dead in rubble.

Months later, when the deployment ended, the boot camp DI's prediction had proved eerily accurate. In Adlesperger's Kilo Company, 11 Marines were killed, the most in any company in the battalion.

[...]

Like others in the family, Gary [Adlesperger's father] continues to support the U.S. mission in Iraq. On his lapel is a pin with the U.S. and Marine Corps flags.

Even for combat-hardened troops, Adlesperger's death was emotionally wrenching. In the midst of the fight to rid Fallouja of insurgents, Marines took time to mourn. Several later had his name tattooed on their arms.

"When we finally went firm [moved to a secure location], one of the noncommissioned officers cried all night about Chris, and I had to separate him from the other Marines," Starner said.

A member of Kilo Company wrote later in an online tribute to Adlesperger: "This is to you and your family, a sincere thank-you for letting all of us come home and live and love. But most importantly, showing us what sacrifice and being a true man is all about."

The night Adlesperger died, Malay went to the mortuary affairs unit at the Marine encampment in Fallouja to inspect his body, in part so he could tell the family how he died.

But that was not the only reason.

"It's a hard thing to explain, but somehow I just felt compelled to say goodbye," said Malay in a soft, slow voice during an interview in Carlisle, Pa., where he is attending the Army War College.

"He had a touch of greatness."

Yes he did. I have no influence, of course, on the MoH recommendation but if I did, Lance Corporal Christopher Adlesperger would become the first Marine Medal of Honor recipient since the Vietnam War.

Bellicose women

Well, I didn't get a huge response to my bleg, but I'll go ahead and post anyway. I know a lot of you have seen a lot of pics of chicks with guns (notably in the Carnival of Cordite). This post is intended to show some others who haven't been seen so prominently.

The first couple you've seen before. This my Mom, out at the ranch with an unidentified gentleman friend:

This is my Auntie, with her buck:

This one of my favorite cousins, Edna (first cousin to my Mom and Auntie). She was a pistol (pun intended). This dynamic gal joined the military during WWII. She was 44 when the Japs attacked Pearl Harbor. She was a radio operator, which didn't use some of her talents, specifically as a pilot, but that didn't stop her from contributing to the war effort. After the war, she continued flying and finally gave up her pilot's license when she turned 80. Check out the hogleg on her hip:

Edna was just 50 shades of cool. We have some other pics of Edna in uniform, but not packing heat. Darn it. There are other pics of her hunting and shooting but I don't have them immediately available for scanning right now.

Now contrast Edna with her sister Alyce (yes, it's spelled correctly). Both we well up in years when I knew them. I spent some time with Alyce a couple of summers in Orange County where she had retired. Granted, she was in her 60s when I knew her, but she always struck me as the homebody, demure type, not as an outdoorswoman. So imagine my surprise to find these pictures of her on a hunting trip:

That's a badger, baby. Rock on, Alyce! Oh, and the mule is (was) named Dinah, and shows up in a number of pics from the ranch and hunting trips.

Well, that's all for my family for now (at least as far as chicks with guns). Unfortunately, I didn't get a great response to my bleg, but I did get a response from Army of Mom. Here she is blasting paper while smiling:

And courtesy of Bitter, here's a shot of Spooky Bitch firing a submachine gun:

A couple more, who post a lot of their own pictures:

Risawn (main page)

Tamara (main page)

If I get any more responses (and please, I'm b(l)egging!), I'll add them.

"Good Luck, Mr. Gorsky"

Bitter also reminds me of my favorite urban myth, the one I so dearly wanted to be true.

Anyway, what is your favorite urban myth? Put it (or them) in the comments.

Memories

Bitter brought back some memories from the glory days of KFAT radio. Specifically, their Sunday Morning Gospel Hour.

Well, I don't care if it rains or freezes,
Long as I have my plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Through all trials and tribulations,
We will travel every nation,
With my plastic Jesus I'll go far.

My one and only comment on the whole Foley thing

But first, a joke:

Q: Why don't Congressmen use bookmarks?

A: Because they like their pages bent over.

That joke is well over twenty years old. Seriously, is anyone actually surprised at something like this? Or that it would be covered up? Or that it would be used politically?

Bax-tear

To the anonymous person who randomly showed up at the ancient Baxter post I wrote at Blogcritics (ugh...re-reading it was painful. Bad punctuation and grammar. I've written better) that left the following comment:

"Birds are so stupid, they dont need humans at all. Someday
I think I will eat one."

I love you.

Short, But Classic

I was just talking to someone about this practically iconic Margaret Thatcher moment from Spitting Image:

You Can See The Eiffel Tower From Everywhere in Paris

One lame technique in television and film that really gets on my nerves is when directors use landmarks of major cities as background to give viewers a sense of place. It's easy, insulting to a viewer's intelligence and just plain stupid. For instance, watching past episodes of "Lost" from the first two seasons, one might conclude that there was a killer view of the Sydney Opera House from every point in the city. It's annoying, especially when it will be obvious within a few seconds where the scene is taking place after some Australian opens their mouth to speak. We are not idiots. We haven't forgotten that the plane took off from Sydney. Please, creators of "Lost," STOP IT. At this point, I would rather see a koala bear riding a bicycle while being chased by a kangaroo in an Olivia Newton-John t-shirt than one more shot of that bloody opera house.

Monday Morning Laughs

Gee, if only I had a spare $8,380 plus shipping and handling.

UPDATE: Of course, for the ultimate Seufari:

This One's For Sheila

I hope you like this next selection; for some reason, I'm pretty sure you will:

"Beyond Weird"

That's how Ken described my previous selection in tonight's freakish 80's-obsession, and I took it as a challenge. Thus, in response, I truly hope this counts as beyond weird:

It's not just the visuals of the video (which also tie into my longstanding Lewis Carroll geekitude); it's not just the music, or the lyrics, or just Tom Petty in general. It's the combination of all of them that makes it an all-time classic bizarreness-fest.

Coolness is...

Man, a few more things like this and I might actually start believing in this karma stuff.

Coolness: A few days ago, Thursday to be specific, I received a package in the mail. My cousin had obtained several copies of the newspapers with Auntie's obituary. She enclosed two papers for me. In addition, enclosed in the package was a wallet with the initials "GL". That's my Grandpa. She found it in Auntie's nightstand. Been there a while, Grandpa died in 1968. More coolness: I suspect my Dad made it for him; Dad dabbled in leatherwork as a hobby.

More coolness: In gratitude to all the people who have graciously assisted me in my genealogical research, I sent an email to a lady who posted at ancestry.com a while back asking for pictures of the cemetery that Auntie and my parents are buried in. I offered to take pictures of headstones she was looking for, since I will be in the area for deer season in a few weeks. She asked if I ever posted at findagrave.com. I have, and for that very cemetery. I clicked over to findagrave to see how many I've added (six in that cemetery, 50 total). Guess what I find while looking at the listings?

Someone has already, barely two weeks after her passing, added my Auntie to findagrave.

Karma rules.

Might as Well Face it, I'm Addicted to YouTube

It's like crack. Not that I'd know, but I imagine it's addictive as crack is supposed to be. Anyway, after that little tangent, my new-found love of YouTube and my perpetual love of all things '80s combined to compel to me to post this:

Be warned that I may just have to post more '80s videos before the night is over. That and/or more stuff featuring the satirical puppets of Spitting Image.