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April 30, 2005
Naboo. Shit. I'm Still In Naboo
Words can not describe how much fun it was meeting Emily, Sheila, Bill, Steve, DaveJ, Chris, et al for drinks, laughs, a movie, more drinks and laughs on Friday night.
All I can say is I got home at 4.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 07:47 PM | Comments (18)
April 29, 2005
Bingley Better Get His Petition Going...
...to get on the ballot for New Jersey Governor. Seems someone with some real firepower is thinking about running. Oh, God bless the Garden State. I really mean that.
"SATURDAY Night Live" alum Joe Piscopo (above), who's eyeing a run for New Jersey governor, is already thinking like a politician. He gave an interview to Steppin' Out magazine's Chaunce Hayden, then immediately tried to retract it. Among the remarks he'd rather take back: "The guys who put Jesse Ventura in office want to put me in . . . I would really enjoy being governor and it would be such an honor. Plus, there're no scandals in my life that would pop up later," mused Piscopo. Except one: "OK, I ran off with the baby sitter!" said the comic, who has been married to Kimberly since 1997. "How am I going to hide that?"
Posted by tree hugging sister at 07:57 PM | Comments (3)
In Honor of the Big Apple Gathering Tonight
(Which is much nicer than my being pissy about it like Mr. Summers, 'cause I can't go either.)
Since Bingley has already posted this week's Swilling entry, I thought I'd pass along a bittersweet but fascinating Pravda Op-Ed piece (lifted in it's entirety for whiney Jersey Boy Fly) about the closing of a Times Square institution:
Howard Johnson's.
With decanters of Martinis or Manhattans for one of the best Happy Hours ever, or the tender fried clam sandwich our Dad always ordered, you could count on that blue roof. The contributer to today's page on the subject momentarily stunned me. Fried clam strips, orange and blue color scheme, great American french fries and...Jaques Pépin?!! Yup. How cool is that?
Howard Johnson's, Adieu By JACQUES PÉPIN Madison, Conn.WHEN word spread that the last Howard Johnson's restaurant in New York City, in Times Square, would probably close, there was something of an uproar. Though plans are uncertain, brokers say it is likely that a big retail chain will replace it. The idea that this icon of American dining will disappear from the city landscape made me particularly sad, since it was at Howard Johnson's that I completed my most valuable apprenticeship.
I had been in America only eight months when I started working at Howard Johnson's. I moved there from Le Pavillon, a temple of French haute cuisine, where I had been working since my arrival in the United States in 1959. Howard Johnson, who often ate at Le Pavillon, hired me and my fellow chef, Pierre Franey.
It was Mr. Johnson's contention that I should learn about the Howard Johnson Company from the ground up. I worked a few months as a line cook at one of the largest and busiest Howard Johnson's restaurants at the time, on Queens Boulevard in Rego Park. I flipped burgers, cooked hot dogs and learned about the specialties of the house, among them tender fried clams made from the tongues of enormous sea clams whose bodies were used as the base for the restaurants' famous clam chowder. Other specialties I became familiar with included macaroni and cheese, hash browns, ice cream sundaes, banana splits, and, certainly, apple pies.
Howard Johnson's was my American apprenticeship, and it was a long one, nearly 10 years, mostly spent in the company's Queens Village commissary. Mr. Johnson gave me and Pierre carte blanche, and we experimented with different types of stews, like beef burgundy, and dishes like scallops in mushroom sauce. I became comfortable using 1,000-gallon pots and operating enormous machines. Mr. Johnson would often visit us at the test kitchen to taste, ask questions and make suggestions. He might tell us that the last time the sauce was thinner or ask why we were using frozen button mushrooms in the beef stew or why we had changed the size of the clam croquettes.
After working on a standard Howard Johnson's recipe in the test kitchen, Pierre and I would prepare it in progressively larger quantities, improving its taste by cutting down on margarine and replacing it with butter, using fresh onion instead of dehydrated onion, real potatoes instead of frozen ones. We made fresh stock in a quantity requiring 3,000 pounds of veal bones for each batch, and we daily boned 1,000 turkeys and made 10 tons of frankfurters.
Albert Kumin, the famous Swiss pastry chef, soon joined us, working to set up a pastry department that produced 10 tons of Danish pastries a day for the hundreds of restaurants in the chain and thousands and thousands of apple, cherry, blueberry and pumpkin pies each day. This was my first exposure to mass production. I developed products for the Red Coach Grill, which was the Cadillac of the Howard Johnson chain, as well as the Ground Round, and the grocery division of the company, which supplied supermarkets, schools and other institutions.
Pierre and I would occasionally visit the restaurants on the New Jersey Turnpike or the New England Thruway to see how our commissary inventions were faring with the customers. But I loved the restaurant in Times Square especially, and often went there, incognito with my friend Jean-Claude. We enjoyed fried clams, and with them we always drank what was the best Manhattan cocktail in town - it came with a full pitcher for refills alongside the initial filled glass.
Unfortunately, the orange roof with the Simple Simon logo has all but disappeared. Few of the restaurants left - among them the one in Times Square - are still called Howard Johnson's (the apostrophe indicates one of the early restaurants). For me, Howard Johnson's reliable, modestly priced food embodies the straightforwardness of the American spirit. It saddens me that New Yorkers looking for this kind of gentleness and simplicity will soon have to find it elsewhere. It won't be easy.
Jacques Pépin is the author, most recently, of "Fast Food My Way."
Posted by tree hugging sister at 02:37 PM | Comments (13)
Swill Abe Sinks Nora Engel
Which of course our erudite readers know is an anagram for "Ken's Lesbian Gorilla News".
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 02:05 PM | Comments (11)
April 28, 2005
It's Sad To See Grown Men Become Frothing Mounds Of Jelly
But we knew this was a danger, oh yes, we knew that, given his fragile state of mind this could be the very thing that reduced a once proud man to a shattered hulk. Yes, gentle readers, our beloved Ken, still reeling from a world-wide dearth in Lesbian Gorilla News, and facing the unfathomable horror and humiliation of not being able to stand and say "Present" when attendance is taken tomorrow night at what may well be the greatest gathering of minds since that golden confluence that gave us the Twinkie and Little Debbie Cakes, our dear dear Ken has fallen to this.
A moment of silence please, and let us all wish him godspeed in his tilting at the many hundreds of windmills that surround the valley of his home. And reinstalling XP.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 06:42 PM | Comments (4)
It Went Horribly Awry
We were eating a quiet dinner that was shattered by the ferocious ringing of the doorbell. Our plates clattered to the table as we raced to open the front hatchway, only to be confronted by another piece of duct tape holding another horrific photo and repeated demands for Miller Lite. Yes. Officer Lotto. He'd fooled no one. Bless you JeffS, for asking. I couldn't bring myself to tell you.
UPDATE: A new note, taped in the driveway. (Photo below) They're getting desperate and starting to crack.
I feel a can of whoop-ass coming on...
That squid can just stand the flock by.
Unfortunate the victims have to suffer for policy.
(CSI Panhandle's addendum: that metal rod taped callously to the note is a FLAMINGO leg, for those of you not familiar with the wading birds of Florida.)
Posted by tree hugging sister at 05:13 PM | Comments (5)
Chavez...
Heh...
Posted by Crusader at 03:08 PM
What I have been saying for years...
Donald Sensing says here. We need the new refineries, but first we need to do something about all the different blends that the envirowhackos demand. Vehicles are running much cleaner these days, and we could produce more usable gas if we only had one blend to contend with. And yes, I think this rises to the level that the Feds could tell the state EPAs to stuff it. But it will never happen...sigh...
Oh yeah, and more Nuke plants, too.
Posted by Crusader at 11:35 AM | Comments (13)
April 27, 2005
What I'm Drinking Tonight
If you are looking for a nice peaty Scotch, and I know you are, but you're somewhat afraid of Laphraoig, then Bowmore 12 Yr may be the scotch for you. It has a smooth peatiness with a honeyed finish. Ok, that sounds pompous as hell but trust me: pour yourself a glass and you will know exactly what I mean.
Or, you could be like me and drink it out of one of these:
a pewter Jefferson Cup. I don't want to hear any crap about Waterford crystal; I like drinking out of these cups. I have many fond memories (and many more indistinct ones) of drinks in these cups.
Look at the scratches and wear and tear on that cup! If only it could talk, it would say things like "Brrrrrr, learn to drink scotch neat!"
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 08:27 PM | Comments (12)
200 Years Ago Today...
...Lt. Presley O'Bannon added the 'Shores of Tripoli' to the Marines' Hymn. It's a great story. Semper Fi.
There, on 27 April 1805, with bombardment support provided by Hornet, Nautilus, and Argus, Lt. O’Bannon led his force through a hail of musketry and stormed the principal edifices. The enemy was routed in such haste that they left their guns loaded and primed. Lt. O’Bannon planted the United States flag upon the ramparts, then turned the guns upon the enemy. The stronghold was occupied after some two hours of hand-to-hand fighting, and for the first time in history the flag of the United States flew on foreign soil.
*UPDATE: I think we have a cosmic connection with Prof. Reynolds again. (Or at least great minds think alike...bwwahahahah!!) He's recommending what looks to be a dynamite book on this very adventure.
Presley Neville O’Bannon was born in Farquier County, Virginia in 1776.
Appointed a second lieutenant in the US Marine Corps on 18 January 1801, he
Source: Naval Historical Center
served in various stations in the United States prior to assignment aboard USS Adams. Following a deployment to the Mediterranean in Adams, now-First Lieutenant O’Bannon returned to the United States in November 1803, and was assigned to duty at Marine Barracks, Washington DC.
In 1804, Lt. O’Bannon was again called to sea duty, this time aboard frigate USS President. Setting sail for the Mediterranean in May 1804, the President arrived at Gibraltar in August. Following several months in the Mediterranean, Lt. O’Bannon was transferred to frigate Constitution, and then to USS Argus. While there, he was selected for a mission that later was commemorated in the colors of the Marine Corps and recorded in the Marine Hymn in the words “to the shores of Tripoli.”
For many years the United States had maintained peace with the Barbary States by “buying” treaties and paying tributes to the Pasha. The states of Algiers, Morocco, and Tunis remained reasonably complacent under this system, though Tripoli continued to demand larger payments and make threats against the United States.
Finally, on 14 May 1801, the Pasha of Tripoli, Yousuf, demonstrated his dissatisfaction by cutting down the flagstaff in front of the US consulate. This led to a declaration of war by the United States and more warships being dispatched to the Mediterranean. During a storm, one of these, frigate Philadelphia, went on the rocks off Tripoli, with her crew being captured and imprisoned at Derne.
This event and the inability of US agents to ransom the crew of Philadelphia led to the formation of a bold rescue plan, which included Lt. O’Bannon. The plan, conceived by naval agent William Eaton, proposed the formation of an alliance with Hamet, elder brother of Yousuf.
In January 1805, Lt. O’Bannon, in command of a marine detachment consisting of one sergeant and six privates, joined Eaton’s allied force at Alexandria, Egypt. This motley hoarde of 500 mercenaries and soldiers of fortune then began an overland expedition against Derne. There, on 27 April 1805, with bombardment support provided by Hornet, Nautilus, and Argus, Lt. O’Bannon led his force through a hail of musketry and stormed the principal edifices. The enemy was routed in such haste that they left their guns loaded and primed. Lt. O’Bannon planted the United States flag upon the ramparts, then turned the guns upon the enemy. The stronghold was occupied after some two hours of hand-to-hand fighting, and for the first time in history the flag of the United States flew on foreign soil.
The Tripolitans counterattacked the fortress a number of times, but were repelled with heavy losses. Finally, through a spirited bayonet charge, the enemy was driven from the vicinity of Derne. This stubbornness and pugnacity by the Americans led to an almost mythical belief in their fighting ability.
On the occasion of his departure, Hamet honored Lt. O’Bannon by presenting him his jeweled sword with a Mameluke hilt. This sword was the model for the dress sword used by Marine Corps officers today, making it the oldest continuously used weapon in the US military arsenal. Upon his return to the United States, the state of Virginia presented O’Bannon a sword modeled after the original Mameluke blade given him by Hamet.
Hailed as the “hero of Derne,” Lt. O’Bannon resigned from the Marine Corps on 6 March 1807. He retired to Logan County, Kentucky and served in the state legislature. He died on 12 September 1850 at the age of 74. In 1919, his remains were removed to the State Cemetery in Frankfort, Kentucky, where a monument is erected in his memory.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 09:38 AM | Comments (4)
April 26, 2005
Again on Parental Responsibility
Remember our ongoing litany? Another former Jarhead who blogs has seen fit to wade into the fray. (Major Dad found him courtesy of FoxNewsdotcom.) See? We're not the only cranky anti-entitled children grouches out there! Ah. Strength in numbers. Read it and weep.
Two patients I had to deal with today were real works of art.Although one was male and one was female, they both were 14 years old and each of them weighed more than my 6"1' large-and-in-charge overweight ass.
Mostly it was the guy who bothered me. In certain cultures, no matter his age, boys are considered superior to girls. Even if a boy is 4 years old and hasn't quite mastered toilet training yet, without the dad around, he is the master of the house, lording over even his own mother.
What this means is that mom caters to his every desire, and about the time he turns 14, he has been enabled into helplessness. He has been getting along so long on the industry of others that he no longer knows how to do things without them. He ends up turning into a blubbering mass of chewed bubble gum every time someone puts any sort of tasks upon him. Tell him to sit in a chair as opposed to lying in bed, and he starts crying and screaming "I caaaaaaaan't."
Posted by tree hugging sister at 02:45 PM | Comments (2)
April 24, 2005
After Much Discussion...
...among the agencies involved (ATF-All Things Feathered and FBI-Florida Birds Inc.), we've decide to send in an undercover team.
Looks like the ransom's been met, eh?
SURPRISE !!! Officer Lotto jumps out to apprehend the villains.
Brilliant in it's simplicity, n'est pas?
The bait is out ~ the trap is set.
Now we wait.
UPDATE: The bait's gone!
Where oh where is brave Officer Lotto?
Posted by tree hugging sister at 03:37 PM | Comments (3)
Of Course You Realize
THIS means war...
*Caution:Disturbing images for mature viewers only
That foul envelope, duct taped to our front door, has forever changed our lives. In it was a ransom demand:
And a picture of so horrifying a nature as to be almost unbearable. What sort of bastardly FIENDS could do such a thing????
Fortunately, clues abound. First, the captive birds are flamingos not pelicans, so we can rule out any ornithologist in Pensacola. Secondly, 'pelicans' is cut out in one complete word and always CAPITALIZED, which is coincidentally the name of our local baseball team. Third and most importantly, there has been a long litany of complaints lodged against said flamingos by a certain curmudgeonly and anti-pink neighbor. Miller Lite, indeed. Marines don't negotiate with terrorists. And definately NOT with ex-Navy types.
Stay tuned for further developments, as events will be moving rapidly.
UPDATE:
Our answer...
...and it's delivery.
Now we wait.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 11:54 AM | Comments (2)
April 23, 2005
A Note on Global Warming
It's supposed to be around 47 degrees here in Pensacola come Sunday morning. They're teasing us with a chance at setting record lows. This is what will be left when the Oriskany's moorings are crushed by the impending ice flow, now in full retreat from Antarctica.
We're doomed.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 12:57 AM | Comments (5)
April 22, 2005
Semper Fi Baby!
The first and only Marine to be Joint Chief.
“The first thing America needs to know about Pete Pace is that he is a Marine,” Bush said. “To the American people, the Marine is shorthand for can-do*, and I’m counting on Pete Pace to bring the Marine spirit to these new responsibilities.”
Hehe.
*to terrorists, the Marine is shorthand for "Oh shit, we're screwed!"
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 03:54 PM | Comments (4)
Redemption? We Don't Believe In No Steenkeen Redemption!
If you're looking for a good round up of the brouhaha about Pope Benedict XVI's past the ever wonderful Baldilocks is a great place to start.
What amazes me, and saddens me too, about all these christians who have worked themselves up into a lather about his election is that they seem to have forgotten about guys named, oh I dunno, say Augustine and Paul?
It seems to me that these guys were carrying a lot more baggage than 'ol Ben is.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 02:35 PM | Comments (4)
My Earth Day Plan
In honor of Earth Day I told my bride I was picking up a big steak to grill, because something needs to die.
And I think I'll have some rice grown in the San Joaquin Valley as a side.
And I'm going to wash it down with this, because I reckon that a distillery has got to be a lot less Earth Day-esque than a vineyard.
Please post your plans below.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 12:32 PM | Comments (9)
Happy Earthday, Swillers!
Please recycle a bottle or hug a tree. And why should you celebrate with Sod Off Swampy t's and mugs, proudly printed in Pensacola? Exhibit A: a note I wrote to Cafepress last night.
this sort of crap is exactly why we didn't use your service when we designed our t's. there's no way my name as an artist would ever be associated with a business who has no social decency, just their hands out for the cash. and your cute dog on the email, with his lame explanation of your lack of standards doesn't fool anyone, or excuse you.
The canned response?
Hi, Thank you for contacting CafePress.com! CafePress.com provides an automated service to a diverse and vibrant community of international users, who may differ in their view about what is considered offensive. We appreciate that you have brought this content to our attention and will forward your concerns to the appropriate department. If you would like to submit a formal written complaint or have further questions regarding content in one of our Shopkeepers stores please send an e-mail to cup@cafepress.com.
Somebody's got to have principles. What jackasses and I'm the treehugger in the family! Not worth a 'bite me'. They just don't get our business. And hopefully, none of yours.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 12:12 PM | Comments (1)
The Atheist
An Atheist walked through the woods exclaiming "What majestic trees!
"What powerful rivers! What beautiful animals!"
As he was walking alongside the river, he heard a rustling in the
bushes behind him. He turned to look and saw a 7-foot grizzly charge
towards him. He ran as fast as he could up the path. He looked over
his shoulder and saw that the bear was closing in on him. He looked
over his shoulder again, and the bear was even closer.
He tripped and fell on the ground. He rolled over to pick himself up
but saw that the bear was right on top of him, reaching for him with
his left paw and raising his right paw to strike him.
At that instant the Atheist cried out, "Oh my God!!!"
Time Stopped. The bear froze. The forest was silent. As a bright
light shone upon the man, a voice came out of the sky.
"You deny my existence for all these years, teach others I don't
exist and even credit creation to cosmic accident. Do you expect me
to help you out of this predicament? Am I to count you as a
believer?"
The Atheist looked directly into the light,
"It would be hypocritical of me to suddenly ask You to treat me as a
Christian now, but perhaps You could make the BEAR a Christian?"
"Very Well," said the voice.
The light went out. The sounds of the forest resumed. And the bear
spoke:
"Lord bless this food, which I am about to receive from thy bounty
through Christ our Lord, Amen.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 09:04 AM
A Crime I Guarantee My Child Won't Commit
My kid will be chauffered to school...on the bleepin' bus; or she'll walk. No kid needs to drive a BMW at 17.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 08:20 AM | Comments (6)
Lady Fingered
In the continuing saga of our Wendy's Chili eater, it seems she has now been arrested.
I had to chuckle at this line in the story:
Sales have dropped at franchises in Northern California, forcing layoffs and reduced hours, the company said. Wendy's also has hired private investigators, set up a hot line for tips and offered a $100,000 reward for anyone who provides information leading to the finger's original owner.
Heh. Seems to me they already had all the tips they wanted.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 08:10 AM
April 21, 2005
SINK Her Redux
Remember in the Oriskany post below, where I was cranky about slide rule types saying 'trust us' with John providing the Greek Chorus in the background? No warm fuzzies left, since the goobs with the slide rulers are these guys:
A section of Lee Roy Selmon Expressway collapsed near 50th Street.
Still at issue is whether URS probed deep enough under the piers to design the supports for different soil types. The authority and URS will attempt to resolve the issue during mediation in August.
That was only a year ago. Your tax dollars at work.
Swill Salute to: Mr. Bill
Posted by tree hugging sister at 12:51 AM | Comments (6)
April 20, 2005
BBs
Heh. This comes up every couple of years.
Posted by Crusader at 04:17 PM | Comments (2)
Rest in Peace, LtCmdr Lipes
Major Dad found this obituary in Pravda today. Holy moly, what a story! (A Pulitzer Prize winning one, to be exact.)
Lt. Cmdr. Wheeler B. Lipes, who performed a storied appendectomy while a pharmacist's mate aboard a submarine in the Pacific during World War II, died on Sunday in New Bern, N.C. He was 84.The cause was pancreatic cancer, said his daughter-in-law, Berniece Lipes.
On Sept. 11, 1942, Pharmacist's Mate Lipes become a surgeon aboard the submarine Seadragon, on patrol at a depth of 120 feet in the South China Sea.
A 19-year-old seaman from Kansas, Darrell Dean Rector, had suffered appendicitis. With the Seadragon about a week's journey from the nearest Allied port, in Australia, the skipper, Lt. Cmdr. William Ferrall, obtained Seaman Rector's permission for surgery by a team of sailors, not one of them a doctor.
Pharmacist's Mate Lipes had observed several appendectomies as a laboratory technician at a naval hospital in Philadelphia, so he was designated to lead the surgical team, amid much trepidation.
We've got the whole thing here. Read it.
Gary Thompson/Las Vegas Review-Journal
Wheeler B. Lipes, center, with former shipmates in Las Vegas in 1997.
In a 1999 interview with the Naval Historical Center, he recalled the moment when the commanding officer approached him after the diagnosis of appendicitis was made."The C.O. and I had a long talk and he asked me what I was going to do. 'Nothing,' I replied. He lectured me about the fact that we were there to do the best we could. 'I fire torpedoes every day and some of them miss,' he reminded me. I told him that I could not fire this torpedo and miss. He asked me if I could do the surgery, and I said yes. He then ordered me to do it."
Seaman Rector was placed on a mess table. A tea strainer covered with gauze became an ether mask, and the anesthesia was monitored by the communications officer, Lt. Franz P. Hoskins.
Metal spoons bent at right angles became muscle retractors, holding the wound open after Pharmacist's Mate Lipes made a three-inch incision with a scalpel. Sulfa pills were ground into powder to use as an antiseptic. Boiled water and alcohol milked from the torpedo mechanism sterilized the instruments and operating "gowns," actually the crew's pajamas.
Pharmacist's Mate Lipes removed the appendix in about two and a half hours in the first appendectomy ever performed on board a submerged submarine. His patient was soon back on duty.
When the Seadragon returned to Australia, its report told of the Japanese ships it had sunk and it related another eventful moment, headlined "One Merchant Ship, One Oil Tanker and One Successful Appendectomy."
George Weller, a correspondent for The Chicago Daily News, received a Pulitzer Prize for his article in December 1942 about the surgery. The operation was recounted in the 1950's television series "The Silent Service" and dramatized in the Hollywood movies "Destination Tokyo" and "Run Silent, Run Deep."
But Seaman Rector did not survive the war. He was among 78 crewmen lost aboard the submarine Tang when it sank off Formosa in October 1944, having been struck by a torpedo that veered back at the submarine after being fired.
Wheeler Bryson Lipes, a native of New Castle, Va., joined the Navy in 1936 and served on several submarines during the war.
Upon returning to the United States in 1943, he spoke at war-bond rallies, representing the Navy, although he did not receive a commendation for his surgical feat.
He retired from the Navy medical corps in 1962 as a lieutenant commander and later served as a hospital executive. He is survived by his second wife, Audrey, of New Bern; his son, Bruce, of Corpus Christi, Tex.; four grandchildren; and four great-grandchildren. His first wife, Myrtle, died in 1997.
In his interview with Navy historians, Commander Lipes said that many doctors in the Navy's wartime Bureau of Medicine and Surgery were unhappy with his achievement.
"I guess they were afraid that because I had performed an appendectomy everyone in the fleet would be running around looking for the first opportunity to do one," he said.
Two appendectomies were performed by corpsmen aboard submarines later in World War II, the Navy said.
In February, Commander Lipes was presented with the Navy Commendation Medal, as a result of a belated study of the surgery by the Navy Medical Department.
"I just didn't think it was that big a deal," he said of the surgery in an interview with The Roanoke Times, in Virginia, after receiving the medal. "I was just proud to save a guy's life."
Posted by tree hugging sister at 01:30 PM | Comments (2)
Loafing is Dangerous
Bread needs a warning label. For example:
9. Bread has been proven to absorb water. Since the human body is more than 90 percent water, it follows that eating bread could lead to your body being taken over by this absorptive food product, turning you into a soggy, gooey bread-pudding person*.
(*See South Park portrait below) Read the rest and change your life while there's still time.
Swill Salute:Samizdata
Posted by tree hugging sister at 09:49 AM | Comments (5)
April 19, 2005
My South Park Portrait
Heh. Thanks to Baldilocks for the link.
And my bride:
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 08:56 PM | Comments (9)
unHook the Line and SINK Her, Already!
Astounding myself yet again with my prescient talents, I have forseen disaster...
" And where that historic eyesore is parked happens to be my downtown in Pensacola. They farted around getting her towed here and now it's too late to get her out to sea before hurricanes start rolling in again. She's not due to move out until November now. They swear it's a hurricane-proof mooring and we're all betting, come another big blow, that she'll be six blocks up the street where all the other dock trash wound up after Ivan. On a lighter note, they do have former crew members standing next to those street lamps by the hulk every Saturday for lectures, if anyone's in the neighborhood."
...in comments posted on one of Bill's world famous Name That Ship challenges.
With their typical farsightedness, the local pond scum are just getting around to wondering, like...what if...
With hurricane season fast approaching, Navy officials are determining how to prevent the retired aircraft carrier Oriskany, now moored at the Port of Pensacola, from becoming a dangerous wrecking ball on the surging tide of a major storm.The USS Oriskany...is scheduled to be sunk 22.5 miles south of Pensacola in the Gulf.
News Journal file photoPort Director Chuck Porter expects to learn about plans to secure the 888-foot-long ship after Navy engineers consider the issue at a meeting set for the last week of April.
And with their typical sense of urgency, they'll get around to an "updated plan for the Oriskany would be made public in May." Thank God they'll have it all figured out before hurricane season starts...1 JUNE.
How'd we come to be in such a state, when it'd all been planned so beautifully? The usual way. The only guy with the plan...died.
A recent unfortunate development has occurred that will delay completion of this simulation model, and therefore delay the sinking of ORISKANY. The lead model developer, a subcontractor to URS Corp., the company developing the simulation model for the Navy, tragically and unexpectedly died on January 7, 2005. Although numerous Navy, EPA and URS Corp. scientists were working on the simulation model, the deceased was the only integrator of the model. Several scientific and technical issues that had been agreed to between Navy and EPA had not been accomplished and require this integration. URS Corp. has established a recovery team that is being overseen by scientists from the Space and Naval Warfare Systems Center San Diego.This unfortunate disruption is expected to cause a two-month delay in completion of the simulation model, thus delaying the sinking of ORISKANY until at least September 2005.
(Man, are they using unfortunate alot or what?) It's also unfortunately a hurricane proof slip; "the Navy will secure the ship in a hurricane mooring arrangement approved by the U.S. Coast Guard" and "assess the chains needed to hold vessels in place in rough surf". (Kinda like one a them 'squirrel proof' bird feeders.) Then they're thinking that filling her up with water to settle her into the slip would work. Oriskany keel depth? 27 feet. Slip depth? 33 feet. Yeah, lots of room to work with there. Warm fuzzies abound. The money quote from a guy in an office who doesn't live here?
"What if a hurricane comes, and the Oriskany ends up on Garden Street? I think the chances of that are zip to none," Porter said.
Sigh. As soon as some slide ruler type says you're okay, just bend over and kiss yOriskany good-bye.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 02:32 PM | Comments (7)
Benedict XVI
So it's Ratzinger. Andrew Sullivan is obviously not thrilled. But I fail to see why the Church should change its values for him, or any of us. Look, if you disagree with Church Doctrine you can leave the Church. It's really quite simple. Is there RCC doctrine I disagree with? Sure, tons. It's a human institution, run by humans; it has its faults and failings like all of us do. In fact, by its very nature it is fallen, as we all are. I left a while ago (marrying a Prot helped). But I respect all the good that its done while acknowledging the bad. It's easy to tear something down, and sometimes that task is made easier by the actions of the institution; the RCC is no exception. But what are you left with? A thousand, no, a million people each trying to be Pope, each trying to play God and have their ideas followed. Me me me me me me.
Nope. Real courage comes from looking inside and realising we all are sinners; real courage says "I am wrong. Forgive me, and replace my will with yours."
*Update: Nightfly nails it:
Likewise, worrying about how he's going to be seen by other religions is preposterous, a red herring. He's supposed to be safeguarding our faith, not auditioning for other ones.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 02:08 PM | Comments (4)
Well, I Guess We Know Why They Are Bankrupt
$1.86 round trip fares. Heh. Goofballs.
But I found this last paragraph odd:
For more on Afghan tourists, talking Jesus dolls and other offbeat stories, click here.
Not sure how that fits in with USAir...
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 12:22 PM | Comments (4)
Santa May Be Late This Year
Didn't anyone tell them that they're able to fly?
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 12:16 PM
April 18, 2005
Speaking of Tolkien
Somebody asked me "Why don't you write more on LOTR?" I dunno.
Look, I love Lord of the Rings; my beloved and much-dog-earred copy was given to me in 1975, fer goodness sake, and it's falling apart from being read a gazillion times. In the late 70s I was fairly proficient in written Dwarvish (I never could figure out Elvish, although I was quite a hounddog in college...). "Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age" is one of the finest chapters ever to spring from the mind of any man. I watch "The Ride of the Rohirrim" once a month with the surround sound friggin' cranked and I blubber like a baby through it. But it's just not something I write a lot about, and there are so many other folks who do it so much better.
Want to meet for a beer (or six) sometime? We'll discuss all of his related writings for hours; hell, even a few of his unrelated writings. But I don't see me writing about it any time soon. Unless I do.
I will, however, link to Dwarf and Elf Jokes.
And gnomes are an entirely different matter.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 09:14 PM
To The Good People Who Keep Searching For "LOTR"
I'm sorry to disappoint you, but all the linking must have nuked the bandwidth of the folks who were hosting them. If we can find them again I'll host them and put them back up.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 08:43 PM | Comments (5)
Apollo XIII
"One thing a Southern boy will never say is 'I don't think duct tape will fix it.'"
Heh.
(via Insta)
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 10:06 AM | Comments (6)
British Granma Throws Gnome At Burglar...
...And the EU is investigating her for "actions disrepectful to the gnome's dignity."
Well, not really, but sadly believable, isn't it?
(via Ken,, who is so desperate for Lesbian Gorilla News that he's fantasizing about gnomes. Sad, really)
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 08:41 AM | Comments (12)
April 17, 2005
A Well Spent Twelve Bucks 'n Change
Last night with dinner, now that we realized Major Dad's Loratab label only says alchohol could 'make him drowsy'. Well, then! One needs rest after surgery so drowsy it is!
The vino was jammyjammy yumyums and a worthy contender in the Ravenswood et al, $12-$17 range.
(Price @ World Market.)
Posted by tree hugging sister at 02:59 PM | Comments (1)
April 16, 2005
Did He Yell "Check!"?
It seems Gary Kasparov was attacked with a chess board after a meeting to organize youth activists. Via the Blogfaddah, who rightly points out the potential, and shocking, of course, connection to Putin.
But my theory is that the 'fan' perhaps looked at the autograph and felt...rooked.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 05:02 PM | Comments (10)
Guns Don't Kill People...
...poor training and poor firearm discipline kill people, as a little research proved this morning. On the face of it, this local news story last night,
with a lawyer money quote like this:
Bryan Cigeleske, Attorney for Goodwin says "There needs to be an awareness that the Glock Pistol is a dangerous weapon. As it's being marketed and distributed to police and law enforcement throughout this state and really the nation."
...led me and Major Dad to much guffawing, dismissive snorting and rolling of eyes. Here we go again, we thought.
But what emerges after a half hour of Googling and researching the background isn't quite so clear cut.
That background: said Mr. Taylor was stopped by Trooper Rodriguez for a traffic violation on the I-10 Mobile (AL) Causeway April 7, 2004. After calling in the stop and the plates, it came back that the vehicle Mr. Taylor was driving had been reported stolen the previous day. That would change a routine stop to a 'hot stop' and the trooper would have drawn his service pistol. The Mobile Register reports:
FOLEY - There was no struggle between Darrell D. Taylor and the Alabama state trooper who shot him following a traffic stop last week, Baldwin County District Attorney David Whetstone said Tuesday.
What occurred has been described as a 'tragic accident' or 'Taylor, 22, was shot in the neck in what officials have been calling an accidental discharge of the officer's gun', but it boiled down to an avoidable death, an obvious attempt to save an officer's (and his Dept's) ass and a misguided attempt by the victim's mother to blame the instrument, while not acknowledging circumstances that put her son in such a precarious position.
Her lawsuit seems ridiculous on it's face: duh, guns are dangerous. But it arises from the inquiry findings (which, incidently, weren't mentioned in the news report):
BAY MINETTE - A Baldwin County grand jury Wednesday cleared a state trooper of criminal wrongdoing in a fatal shooting on the Causeway in April, placing the blame on the service pistol used by members of the Department of Public Safety.
...leading Major Dad to say, "sounds like they were trying to cover the hind-end of what was probably a good officer and poor training. The article didn't say the gun went off by itself. It talks about a sensitive trigger pull." Which, by virtue of some more digging, we found pretty well documented on Glock spec pages and various law enforcement forums.
The glock has a hammer that is activated by the trigger, there fore it has a pretty long "pull". This is not conducive to good accuracy, but after a bit a practice is fairly easy to master. It is simplicity...no safety, just keep your finger OFF the trigger and it wont shoot. There have been a few unintentional discharges due to nervousness on the part of the shooter.You can take up a little slack, but if you take up to much the gun will fire.
"Obviously the officer was aiming and had applied pressure to the trigger," Major Dad said, "which even if you have ice water running through your veins and are very experienced, most people don't have calibrated fingers. With the rush of adrenaline, trying to take up the slack on a trigger will lead to just what happened. No gun is safe when you're pulling the trigger and you don't put your finger there unless you intend a round to go down range."
The moral of the story? First and foremost, don't drive a stolen car. Secondly, don't take every local headline at face value, like we were prepared to. I fully expected to find your typical sordid finger-in-the-chili, brought-that-shit-on-yourself, 'career criminal's family sues' story. What we found instead was a well known, widely discussed problem being blamed for a death rather than the training deficiencies that caused it.
It is simplicity...no safety, just keep your finger OFF the trigger and it wont shootActually, there are THREE safeties, but there is no MANUAL safety. You're right about the finger on the trigger part...this applies to ALL firearms.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 02:08 PM | Comments (10)
April 15, 2005
Whacha Think?
Posted by tree hugging sister at 06:40 PM | Comments (2)
Happy April 15th!
Courtesy of MUSC Tiger, we now know where all the money is going.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 01:56 PM
In honor of this day in history...
heh 93 years ago. Just seven years earlier, the Pepsi bottling plant here in Charlotte opened up, and 43 years later, Ray Crock got things rolling.
Good grief! How could I forget Operation El Dorado Canyon...
All hail the 'Vark....
Posted by Crusader at 10:28 AM | Comments (7)
News Snip
Defender of Freedom, Faithful reader, and handsome devil Real JeffS tipped me off to today's mass circumcision in Morocco by several thousand men to 'celebrate' the circumcision of the King's son.
Good thing the Queen didn't have a mastectomy...
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 10:21 AM | Comments (20)
April 14, 2005
God Bless and Semper Fi
An amazing Marine has died.
F.C. Branch, 82, Pioneering Black Marine, DiesPHILADELPHIA, April 13 (AP) - Frederick Clinton Branch, the first black commissioned officer in the Marine Corps, died Sunday in Philadelphia. He was 82.
His death was announced by his family and Roxborough Memorial Hospital.
Mr. Branch was drafted into the Marines in 1942 while a student at Temple University and scored well on a test for Officer Candidate School, but he lacked a recommendation and was rejected.
His wartime service in the Pacific, however, led to a recommendation and admission to O.C.S. He received his commission as a Marine lieutenant on Nov. 10, 1945, the 170th anniversary of the founding of the corps in Philadelphia, and was the only black graduate in a class of 250.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 11:16 PM | Comments (2)
FLASH! ~ 'Get a Grip' A Swill Scoop
All the fawning over the NRO article noted on our bigger older brother blogs should leave loyal Coalition readers yawning. We called McCain a suck up days ago, with pithy commentary from said extraordinary Swillers.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 10:19 PM | Comments (5)
There's No Place Like Gnome
Gnome gone wild — partying with Paris Hilton?
Garden fixture may have had Vegas-style break
They stole her gnome, caught him on tape partying with Paris Hilton (!!) and she's not pissed until...
But it was the shocking picture of the gnome smiling with waitresses from Hooters that really got Severson steamed."He’s my prodigal gnome and he went without my permission," Severson told the "Today" show on Thursday. "And it’s a really good picture, but he hasn’t really told me much about it because he knows he’s in trouble."
Shocking is right. But he's paying for it.
She added that the wayward gnome was currently under house arrest and won't be making anymore trip to Las Vegas or even the garden. "I've got him in the house here and he is totally grounded."The rest of her garden sculptures and Mr. Summers are writhing in gnome envy.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 04:05 PM | Comments (4)
Waiter! There's a Finger Reflux
Cat's got her...um...finger.
Leopard victim thinks Wendy's finger is hers
Latest bizarre twist in tale of tainted chiliLAS VEGAS - A woman who lost part of her finger in a leopard attack believes it was her body part that allegedly showed up a month later in a bowl of fast-food chili in California.
*Update: Ken, as always, is at the forefront of transgendered Leopard Nibbling.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 03:15 PM | Comments (8)
Admit It! We've All Wanted To...
...ya know. Say something like this, when confronted with another loser member of the humanoid herd.
911 dispatcher reprimanded for wisecrack
Apologizes after facetious offer to shoot childWATAUGA, Texas - A 911 dispatcher was reprimanded for responding to a mother’s plea for help with an unruly child by saying: “OK. Do you want us to come over to shoot her?”
Major Dad and I lost our sense of empathy a long time ago, living in the gang infested turf of Santa Ana, CA. We'd see sobbing mothers every other broadcast of the local LA evening news. Bawling their eyes out over a dead son John, Jose or Antuwan. Seven years old and gunned down on those vicious streets by the gang du jour. Spraying bullets across the sidewalk at some obscure target, while invariably hitting only the 7 year old or the 92 year old granny on her porch. Then the rest of the report would include "3 a.m." Once in a blue moon a reporter would wade into the wails of grief to ask, "what was he doing on the street at three in the morning?" The screaming would cease, an indignant look would appear and the answer always was:
"I can't control him."
You can't control a seven year old ???
Then you don't need to be breeding and WE don't need to pay for your complete lack of parental responsibility when he kills someone with a baseball bat and more excuses fly. 'Want him to shoot the 12 year old?'
Yes, please. We do. But only after he puts you out of our misery first.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 02:47 PM | Comments (5)
Ban Baseball!
Whenever you see a statement like this
"He is not a monster. He's a good boy who made a bad mistake. This is a mistake that will haunt both families for the rest of our lives," the statement said.
you just know that something like this has happened:
A 13-year-old pitcher was accused of clubbing a teenage friend to death with a baseball bat, moments after the friend apparently teased him at a concession stand following his baseball team's first loss of the season.
Hate to break it to you, mom and dad, but he is a monster, for according to witnesses "the two boys teased each other before the suspect pulled a bat from his bag and hit Rourke in the knees, then the head."
He must have learned that combo from the Sopranos. Nice kid.
The dead one.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 01:26 PM | Comments (4)
Unions
and the eeevvviiillll Wally. Pretty even handed for the WaPo.
Unions:The last refuge of sub-standard employees.
Posted by Crusader at 01:18 PM | Comments (2)
Word of the Day
The example sentence was simply swill...
oracular \or-RAK-yuh-ler\ adjective*1 : resembling an oracle (as in solemnity of delivery)
2 : of, relating to, or being an oracle
Example sentence:
*A knowledgeable wine drinker herself, Roberta refuses to assign an oracular status to professional wine critics; she drinks what she likes, not what has been well-reviewed.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 09:57 AM | Comments (1)
April 13, 2005
Breaking News
Ken has turned up some important scientific data regarding John Kerry.
I urge you, in the interest of science, to go read it.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 08:27 PM | Comments (1)
Ag Lobby Wins Again
Well, it's no surprise that the Ag Lobby has defeated efforts to reduce payments to farmers. And we're not even talking eliminating, but only reducing. Disgraceful. There is no excuse for these huge subsidies to farmers. As the article points out
Johanns has argued that bigger operations collect too big a share of government payments. According to his department, 8 percent of producers receive 78 percent of subsidies.
so the 'family farmer' crap doesn't apply here, folks. These are big Agribusinesses living off of your tax dollars (which are due this week).
And that sucks.
*Update: As Ken points out in the comments, people like Sam Donaldson and Ted Turner are beneficiaries of this, which means that cuts in the Food Stamp Program, which is where the AgSec says he's going to cut now, will be going directly into Ted Turner's pockets. Do you think that might rate a mention on CNN? What about if it was going into Cheney's pockets?
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 10:47 AM | Comments (2)
Soccer Violence...
has flared up again.
I guess they're not big on security at these 'matches.'
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 10:27 AM | Comments (1)
Oops! Sorry!
We sent you a virus that killed a million people. We meant to send you a Homer Pez Dispenser.
We appologize for any confusion.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 10:16 AM
April 12, 2005
Perish Podsnappish Predilections
On Bullshit
There! I said it.
"One of the most salient features of our culture is that there is so much bullshit," Harry G. Frankfurt writes, in what must surely be the most eyebrow-raising opener in modern philosophical prose. "Everyone knows this. Each of us contributes his share. But we tend to take the situation for granted."
I found this little gem of a review by Roger Kimball while deleting unread/unopened Opinion Journals. I was immediately intrigued by his description of the Grey Lady's sudden onset of blushing priggishness...
"Manners," Edmund Burke wrote, "are of more importance than law. . . . The law touches us but here and there and now and then. Manners are what vex or soothe, corrupt or purify, exalt or debase, barbarize or refine us, by a constant, steady, uniform and insensible operation like that of the air we breathe in."Manners determine not so much what is right and wrong as what is seemly and unseemly: what is and is not decorous or appropriate. Consider the latest bestseller from Princeton University Press by a philosopher named Harry Frankfurt. It's called "On Bull----"--well, many American newspapers, including this one, forbear to print the word, but you know what it is. Even the New York Times, whose lifestyle sections celebrate all manner of "transgressive" habits in detail, can't bring itself to spell out the book's title on its bestseller list.
...and completely hooked by the 'Mr. Podsnap' thing. How cool is that? (Never having been one to wade through Dickens, I still have a fine appreciation of the gent's bent for characters.) I have penned this post in honor of Mr. Podsnap. Please consider my share contributed in full, of bull.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 03:20 PM | Comments (10)
I Feel a Protest Coming On.
What is it with these Wisconsin people and their guns? Kill, kill, kill...
Wis. considers legalizing cat huntingMADISON, Wis. (AP) -- Feline lovers holding pictures of cats, clutching stuffed animals and wearing whiskers faced-off against hundreds of hunters at meetings around Wisconsin to voice their opinion on whether to legalize cat hunting.
I'm sure in the hours before my flight to Madison I can rework something Joan Baez or Old Pete sang. Something expressing the anguish so evident in the words of the protestors.
One of the attendees was Katy Francis, who wore cat ears, whiskers, a cat nose and a sign that read, "Too Cute to Kill." For Francis, "The cat hunting thing brought me out because it was very extreme."
The BASTARDS! Hearts and minds people. Hearts and minds. Gearing up to lead the charge reminds me of my callow youth and my first great tree hugging crusade. When you're young, you see eeeville and you know you can change the world.
"Good Lord - I've heard about this - cat juggling! Stop! Stop! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Good. Father, could there be a god that would let this happen?"
Yeah. Cat Juggling. Which leads, unless the filthy practice is obliterated as all men of good conscience know, inexorably to Kitty. Porn.
Oh yeah.
HELL yeah.
And you know it, Mr. Summers.
Even if you lack the intestinal fortitude to admit it.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 10:33 AM | Comments (18)
Bingley, Take Note...
...you corporate whore, you. I've found you another way to get ahead. Whoops! Make that 'a head'.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 09:55 AM | Comments (6)
April 11, 2005
And This Year's Village Idiot Is...
Thank God there are people in this country with a sense of humor.
Mind you, my bride will tell me that "Of course they're sensible; they're from the Midwest."
Sigh.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 01:18 PM | Comments (3)
Pravda Goes Fishing
Not that the NYT has an agenda, mind you, but would you, as a prominent Republican, please write an Op-Ed for us attacking another Republican?
Oh, you won't? Then sorry, but we have no room for your piece.
Amazing.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 09:34 AM | Comments (1)
April 10, 2005
Get a Grip People...
He's been dead for 93hundred years and has nothing to do with your tribe, my tribe or anybody else's tribe.
WASHINGTON - Scientists hoping to study the ancient skeleton known as Kennewick Man are protesting legislation they say could block their efforts. They say a two-word amendment to a bill on American Indians would allow federally recognized tribes to claim ancient remains even if they cannot prove a link to a current tribe.
John McCain should quit being the suck-up of the ages...
...but the bill has been revived in this Congress by the panel's new chairman, Sen. John McCain, R-Ariz.
...and let the anthropologists/archeologists do their job.
Call me a ghoul, but I find it fascinating when a discovery fleshes out after study. Like the Jamestown burials for instance. Arrowheads lodged in bones, hatchet marks on skulls ~ gads! It's one thing to read about how tough it was, quite another to have the evidence at hand. Or the iceman they found in the Alps a gazillion years ago. Everyone had agreed he'd been caught in a storm and frozen to death until an autopsy revealed murder most foul. How cool is that??! But if a tribe of Primordial Austrian Goatherders had decided he was their sacred popsicle, that glimpse into history would have never happened.
I suppose someone will be shortly claiming these bones, too.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 10:20 AM | Comments (14)
Word of the Day
Yes this...
sylph \SILF\ noun1 : an elemental being in the theory of Paracelsus that inhabits air
2 : a slender graceful woman or girl
...would be me.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 10:18 AM | Comments (2)
April 09, 2005
Word of the Day
Too precious to waste.
vermicular \ver-MIK-yuh-ler\ adjective 1 *a : resembling a worm in form or motion b : marked with irregular fine lines or with wavy impressed lines 2 : of, relating to, or caused by worms
Appropriate with the Carnival of the Recipes up and Bingley's
Pamelas front and center...ahem, as always. (Thanks Amanda!)
Did you know? What does the word "vermicular" have in common with the pasta on your plate? If you're eating vermicelli (a spaghetti-like pasta made in long thin strings) the answer is "vermis," a Latin noun meaning "worm." If you dig deep enough, you'll find that "vermis" is the root underlying not only "vermicular" and "vermicelli," but also "vermiculate" (which can mean either "full of worms" or "tortuous") and even "worm" itself.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 10:27 AM | Comments (3)
April 08, 2005
This Saves Alot of Heartache
Eric Rudolph is pleading GUILTY and will serve four life sentences. I understand how angry many will be, but this assures a just outcome and gives no voice to the media circus that was sure to ensue. We've had enough grandstanding.
Plea deal turns up explosives Jeff Lyons, whose wife was severely injured and left blind in one eye in the Alabama bombing, said he and his wife were “extremely disappointed” in the life sentences for Rudolph. “As they say, let the punishment fit the crime. That was a death sentence,” he said.But Lyons said he understood prosecutors’ reasons for agreeing to a plea deal since Rudolph directed them to the explosives — something that likely would not have happened had the case gone to trial.
Let him rot there.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 05:25 PM | Comments (8)
Thoughts From The First Round Of The Masters
1) Rich Beem is not as fat in real life as he appears on tv.
2) Craig Stadler is fatter.
3) If Craig Parry were any fatter Luke Skywalker would be leading a squadron of X-Wings to blow him up.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 04:59 PM | Comments (3)
Waffle House Littrachure
As the spouse of an educator (and I use that particular bromide solely because it will make her cringe), and particularly one who's specialty is English Littrachure, I have a heightened awareness of edjumacational issues, and my spider-senses are trained to tingle when I hear people about me discussing such topics. So imagine then how my soul leapt for joy this morning at 6am while I was having breakfast at a Waffle House in Columbia, SC.
Now, mind you, eating at the Waffle House is, in and of itself, normally a cause for celebration (oh, and I had 2 eggs over easy, grits, sausage, buttered (slathered really) toast and lots of coffee. Heaven. Oh yes, heaven indeed.) as the cultural backwater in which I find myself domiciled doesn't have any. But the extra joy this morning was provided by the local folk, decent hard-working fellows who seemed to be in their late 40s or so, and who didn't appear to be the college type. Yet to my wandering ear was brought such rapture by their words extolling the virtue of Shakespeare! Oh frabjous day! In a Waffle House!
One fellow was quite adamant in his insistance that Shakespeare was the BEST, and he would brook no other opinion. "In my experience" he declared "all the others ain't worth a damn next to Shakespeare." And he kindly provided a website for his dining companions so that they too could verify his claims...
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 04:53 PM | Comments (4)
Just for fun...
in case anyone wondered where THS got her name from......
heh, still makes me chuckle.....
Posted by Crusader at 04:22 PM | Comments (1)
Waiter! There's a Finger Redux
Seems Wendy's might not have had their fingers in the chili after all. The likely explanation is far more disturbing. Imus implied a dead aunt...eewwww!
Posted by tree hugging sister at 08:13 AM | Comments (7)
April 07, 2005
There's Nothing to Say About This...
...that can prepare you. Just feast your eyes. Or claw them out of your skull.
Via Lisa. (Yes, it's true. LEEEsa. Who knew?)
Posted by tree hugging sister at 03:47 PM | Comments (5)
Oh Great, More Advice
Fight dementia with sex, crosswords and a run
Mental, physical exercise key, researcher saysCANBERRA - Sex, cryptic crosswords and a good run could help ward off dementia and other degenerative conditions by stimulating new brain cells, an Australian researcher said on Thursday.
A MALE Australian researcher mind you and go figure, right?
“Prolactin levels also go up during sex as well. So one could think of a number of more entertaining activities than running in order to regulate the production of nerve cells,” Bartlett said.
Oh, bite me. I'd like him to try 24 hours in the peri-menopausal, psychopathic, hot flash ridden temple that is my body and try to remember what sex was, less mind want any more. And I dare any of the males who frequent these quarters, with wives of a certain age, to point out the myriad benefits available if said spouse'd only be reasonable and put out.
*Update: Unbelievable what spammers will resort to. This gem just hit my inbox. I didn't open it, but had to share the subject line:
Neocon used to treat and prevent osteoporosis in women after menopause appropriate
So Paul Wolfowitz, not SEX, is the answer to everything.
I wish they'd sent this sooner.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 12:55 PM | Comments (20)
Bingley...
...should about be in Augusta.
We'll take it from here.
RRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPP !!!!!!!!
STOP that !! Stop that right NOW !!
Every time I try to talk to someone it's Bingley this and 'let us play' that, and 'I'm not worthy'.
They're so depressing. Now knock it off. Right.
Bingley.....TEE TIME 12:30 EST.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 11:48 AM | Comments (8)
The Littlest Things Gang Aft Agley
Thank God for the dogs. If it wasn't for wanting to boot them outside to do their thing when the rain slacked off a smidge, I'd have never seen the waves lapping at the base of the patio and the corner of the house. And all the front yards in the block reflecting the street lights and lightening strikes in the knee deep water that covered them. It had to be the drain.
So Major Dad put on his grubbies, Ebola slipped on a hand-me-down pair of fireman's boots and they trudged off through the tempest.
It's a bit of a trek, down the block and back up the other side, to where the drain's supposed to be. One house over and right behind us. And in all those houses along that ditch, with the water already 3 plus feet high and undercutting their patios, all the lights were on and not one person was aware of the potential disaster. Not one curious nose at a window.
Then my guys got to the drain. Ebola was the light man, while Major Dad grabbed a rake from the closest patio and waded into the hip-deep run-off. He started dredging, felt something and snagged it. With a mighty tug the impediment came free, the drain belched a mighty spray as water started to fill the vacuum and a whirlpool formed to take it away. Whatever it was had completely covered the grates so not a drop could get through. The neighbor closest, a sweet clueless young thing, cracked open her patio door, peeking out to see what all the ruckus was about. "I had no idea it was so bad!" Major Dad dragged the offending object to her patio slab and Ebola spread it out, so they could figure out what it was.
"Oh", she said. "That's my grill cover."
Posted by tree hugging sister at 09:59 AM | Comments (4)
April 06, 2005
Tartan Day, Is It?
MacEwan, Barony of Otter, Loch Fyne. Motto:"Grow Strong Again".
When we lost the big house, they sold us out to the Campbells. Bastards. Anyways, I've slogged my arse through the gorse and sheep droppings to take photos of the few stones left of the castle. The reward being the hospitality of the Scottish innkeepers, who opened a room for me to rest and warm my soaked, freezing bones. And poured continuous rounds of pints of the family elixir, MacEwan's Tartan Ale. (We've both their Tartan and India Pale in the fridge as I write~Ebola lives and breathes his heritage.) I've heard the ghosts at Culloden playing the pipes at three in the morning, had the lady of the house save me a breakfast egg and seen the mist at St. Andrews, while asking 'so where's the golf course?' Oh, I love it there.
But the food does suck.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 11:34 PM | Comments (7)
Ode to Jimmy
There once was an ex Prez named Jim,
who cavorts with tyrants on a whim,
when denied space on a plane,
cried like the rain,
when I’m sure he'd get a seat with Kim.
Long after the death of Billy,
who was regarded as the less silly,
to honor the name of Carter,
in Nobel causes works harder,
to make despots and dictators less chilly.
For the Peanut Man I’ll not cry
whom the Venezuelans thank for their guy,
he’s long been a bore,
who snuggles with Moore,
to whom I’ll not soon enough say goodbye.
Posted by Crusader at 10:24 AM | Comments (11)
Meet the Force With Force
If you had any intention of rousting a Florida Granny on the side walk, or even glaring at her rudely, I'd do it quick. We're not talking feral cats here.
TALLAHASSEE, Fla. - Gov. Jeb Bush said Tuesday he intends to sign a bill that would allow people who feel threatened — even on the street or at a baseball game — to "meet force with force" and defend themselves without fear of prosecution.
In light of this enlightened legislation, we proudly present the new and improved South Florida Nursing Home Walker!
(If you qualify, Medicare foots the entire cost, with no deductible and no out-of-pocket expences! Call now! Our friendly operators are standing by.)
NOTE:I believe this could be 'gun porn', as Mr. Summers calls it.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 09:51 AM | Comments (10)
April 05, 2005
The Slippery Slope In Action?
Kind, sweet and pure Eccentrica G (whom Ken so kindly informed me has a brother Kenny) has post up about some scary legislation being discussed in Britain.
Here's the money quote:
The government estimates binge-drinking costs Britain about £20bn a year and MPs want pubs to pay more towards policing drink-fuelled disorder.
Under this rationale there is nothing that the government can not outlaw, in the interest of equity and cost savings.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 10:42 PM | Comments (9)
Bingley Caught Cavorting With Green Lady ~ Film at 11
No, not this one...
...THIS one.
He'd do anything (or anyone) to get to this green lady...
Shameless hussy. Bingley, that is.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 04:28 PM | Comments (3)
"I Did Not Come To Praise The Pope..."
...but to, er, drool on myself.
Courtesy of Arthur Chrenkoff is this wonderful essay by a professor of 'cultural theory' at Manchester University.
My favorite bit is this:
The Catholic church had lived through its own brand of flower power in the 60s, known as the Second Vatican Council; and the time was now ripe to rein in leftist monks, clap-happy nuns and Latin American Catholic Marxists. All of this had been set in train by a pope - John XIII - whom the Catholic conservatives regarded as at best wacky and at worst a Soviet agent.
Amazingly devious, these Catholics, no? Wacky John XIII was a closet Soviet agent 900 years before the birth of Marx.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 03:01 PM | Comments (11)
Word of the Day
yawp \YAWP\ verb1 : to make a raucous noise : squawk
*2 : clamor, complain
Example sentence:
Bob was unpopular with the office supervisors because he was always yawping loudly about his working conditions.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
In our house, it simply means 'yes', as in:
Did you feed the dog yet? Yawp
Did you know?
"Yawp" first appeared sometime in the 14th century. This verb comes from the Middle English "yolpen," most likely itself derived from the past participle of "yelpen," meaning "to boast, call out, or yelp." Interestingly, "yawp" retains much of the meaning of "yelpen," in that it implies a type of complaining which often has a yelping or squawking quality. An element of foolishness, in addition to the noisiness, is often implied as well. "Yawp" can also be a noun meaning "a raucous noise" or "squawk." The noun "yawp" arrived on the scene approximately 500 years after the verb. It was greatly popularized by "Song of Myself," a poem by Walt Whitman containing the line "I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world."
Posted by tree hugging sister at 02:20 PM | Comments (9)
Smash....
could use some prayers for Mrs. Smash.
Posted by Crusader at 11:19 AM
100 Common Sense Rules...
...for a dangerous world. Ten years old, but as valid as the day they were written. A few of the 'easy-to-follow' truisms:
34. I will not turn into a snake. It never helps.42. When I capture the hero, I will make sure I also get his dog, monkey, ferret, or whatever sickeningly cute little animal capable of untying ropes and filching keys happens to follow him around.
85. I will not use any plan in which the final step is horribly complicated, e.g. "Align the 12 Stones of Power on the sacred altar then activate the medallion at the moment of total eclipse." Instead it will be more along the lines of "Push the button."
90. I will not design my Main Control Room so that every workstation is facing away from the door.
Axioms to live by and no red ink. Brought to you because we care.
Posted by tree hugging sister at 11:05 AM | Comments (2)
April 04, 2005
I Know Where My Dial Won't Be
Gorezilla is Chairman of the Board. That tells you all you need to know about how hip and happening, how current, this new network will be.
Taking its cues from their media consumption habits, Current will offer short-form programming in the TV equivalent of an iPod shuffle. Its "pods" will be 15-second to five-minute segments that range from the hottest trends in technology, fashion, television, music and videogames, to pressing issues such as the environment, relationships, spirituality, finance, politics and parenting, subjects that young adults can rarely find on television.
With all this jumping about, how is anyone ever going to find anything on Current? Given that the Democrats have all been in a lather over the years about the short attention spans of Americans, is it not odd that their former standard bearer is at the forefront of encouraging even shorter ones?
And goodness knows there's never anything on TV about "the environment, relationships, spirituality, finance, politics and parenting."
Uh-huh.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 02:58 PM | Comments (3)
Thanks Bill
Oral Sex Safe and Not Really Sex, Say U.S. Teens.
Hey, if it works for the President...
A case of beer to the first fella who convinces his wife of this.
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 02:12 PM | Comments (13)
Seeing Red About...
...not seeing red. Apparently there is another excuse I can employee vis á vis the origins of my twisted sisterness. I am a smidge off plumb not only because of my parents, but because of my BASTARDly teachers and their development impairing, 'feelings-of-inadequacy' inducing corrections in RED INK.
"My generation was brought up on right or wrong with no in between, and red was always in your face," Kazmark said. "It's abrasive to me. Purple is just a little bit more gentle. Part of my job is to be attuned to what kids respond to, and red is not one of those colors."Three top pen and marker manufacturers - Bic, Pilot Pen and Sanford, which produces Papermate and Sharpie - are making more purple pens in response to rising sales. School leaders and teachers are largely driving that demand, company representatives say.
"They're trying to be positive and reinforcing rather than being harsh," said Robert Silberman, Pilot Pen's vice president of marketing. "Teachers are taking that to heart."
The disillusionment with red is part of broader shift in grading, said Vanessa Powell, a fifth-grade teacher at Snowshoe Elementary School in Wasilla, Alaska.
"It's taken a turn from 'Here's what you need to improve on' to 'Here's what you've done right,'" Powell said. "It's not that we're not pointing out mistakes, it's just that the method in which it's delivered is more positive
I only wish someone had thought of this and saved me from myself. It's the formative years that count, folks, so a little kinder-gentler please. NJSue, when you reach for that red pen, take a moment. And just say no. Do it for them. Do it for our future...
Posted by tree hugging sister at 01:09 PM | Comments (13)
April 01, 2005
John Paul Is Desperately Ill
I hope he gets through this, but it's raining outside and I'm crying inside. For all my earthmotherspook ways, I adore the man. Like the song says, "I say a little prayer for you..."
**An Update: Italian news services are reporting that there is no more hope. The crowds are beginning to gather in St. Peter's Square.
"This evening or this night, Christ opens the door to the Pope."
Posted by tree hugging sister at 12:44 PM | Comments (4)
Wear It Loud! Wear It Proud!
Dateline: Kuwait
Ladies, don't you just love a man in uniform?
Posted by Mr. Bingley at 12:02 PM | Comments (28)