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  • Wednesday Morning Links

    “You mean we’re supposed to actually beat some decent teams? But we’re Bama!”

    Poor Bama. They’re stuck at #5 behind Georgia and I’m hearing a lot of butthurt from their fans.  Nevermind the fact that they have no ranked wins and have a 1-2 record against teams with a winning record.  They should be down around #10. But whatever. If the system is fair this year, they won’t be able to sneak into the playoff. But the system probably isn’t.  LSU at #1 doesn’t bother me a bit. What’s irritating is that if OSU runs the table and is the 1 or 2 seed, they’re probably gonna have to go play in Arizona unless somehow a PAC12 team or Big 12 team sneaks in to play against them.  I don’t want to go al the way to Phoenix to watch a game. We were planning on doing Christmas in SC this year with my parents. I can’t do that drive and then the one to PHX. That will suck.

    Sugar Free doesn’t think this was as funny as most of us do.

    Kentucky lost to Evansville last night in basketball.  Evansville. At Rupp. LOL, that’s hilarious.Duke, Gonzaga and Auburn all took care of their lesser foes.  And on the ice, your winners were Florida, Montreal, NYR, Phoenix, Colorado, Vancouver, Detroit, LA and San Jose.

    King Edward III was born on this day. So were author Robert Louis Stevenson, baseball legend Buck O’Neil, hockey legend Gilbert Perreault, rape (but not rape-rape) apologist Whoopi Goldberg, NFL bust Vinnie Testaverde, TV’s Jimmy Kimmel, and actor Gerard Butler.

    I’ve got to be honest, that was hot garbage.  Now on to…the links!

    I’m sorry, but I really don’t care.

    Apparently the mayor of Venice is a climate expert. And an expert on tidal anomalies too.  Or maybe he’s just full of shit. Question: if this is the highest tide in over 50 years, doesn’t that mean there were higher tides more than 50 years ago?  And wouldn’t that make his retarded climate change hypothesis moronic? Just asking.

    The Baby Trump Slasher is going hardcore. Well, in his own way he is. I suspect he’s looking to enrich himself with his new-found notoriety. Which is probably what I’d do if I got 15 minutes.  But still, destroying private property isn’t acceptable. Dude needs to be forced to make restitution.

    Governor Northam on his way to meet the newly-elected delegates

    Black (and blackface!) politicians set to take unprecedented power in Virginia. Not sure what their skin color has to do with anything. Unless, gf course, the media views blacks as a monolithic political entity. And now that I’ve typed that, it makes sense that NBC has taken this perception and turned it into a big deal.

    This is a terribly sad story and I don’t know what to think. Cook Children’s Hospital was where Baby Reason’s belly got fixed up 4 years ago. They’re good people. But I’m sure these parents are as well.  It’s just heart-wrenching.

    I wonder what he was mumbling? Probably something about qualified immunity and professional courtesy. But if he expected that, he needed to choose his victim more carefully.

    Sure they are, drunkie. Sure they are. I’m praying this happens. More than anything in the world.

    I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say I hope everyone involved here loses. Seriously. It’s an absolute shitshow.

    Anyway, here you go. I’ll probably listen to it 20 times this morning. Hope y’all listen at least once. It’s a beautiful song.

    Now go have a great day. I’ve got two sick kids. so I’m in for a rough one.

  • Chapter 15 – The Stay

    “Well, if they’re going to issue the stay at all, now would be a good time! I mean, if no stay today, by tomorrow night my guy is eating with the big metal spoon, if you know what I mean.” I’m on the phone to appellate defense in Washington, D.C. I look at my watch. The digital face reads 00:31. Ten-thirty in the morning east coast time.

    “Alright, bye.” I hang up. I’m looking at documents, but I’m not really seeing anything – David Ponder’s record book, letter from his wife, character statements, and I’m trying to imagine how I’m going to defend him tomorrow. I’ve got one last motion that I’ll bring at the close of the government’s case. One last grasp that has a sound basis in law, but the judge will deny it, at this point. It’s a technicality.

    From the beginning I’ve had the sense that they have mischarged the offense, perhaps intentionally. The prosecution has charged it as willful disobedience of a superior commissioned officer. Under the UCMJ, that has a stiffer penalty than the more general charge of violating a lawful general order, such as the order from the Secretary of Defense, to take the anthrax shot. The government has charged it as violating the specific Navy Lieutenant’s order, but there is an old case that stands for the proposition that merely repeating a higher order can not make an orders violation the more egregious willful disobedience of a superior commissioned officer. It is called the “ultimate offense doctrine,” but it probably isn’t going to work. Nothing else has.

    I’m tired. I haven’t slept much, I need a shave, and my back is killing me from my tiny desk chair at home and my broken desk chair at work. I need to get David’s sentencing case together, review my opening statement and closing argument, and make sure all of the documents are in my case file, with necessary copies for each of the jurors…

    My head nods and I realize I’ve drifted off at my desk. I look at my watch and see it’s 2:33 am. I rub my face and decide to take a walk.

    The building is dark and empty, except for me and the feisty Okinawan cockroaches. I stroll the dark corridors, my sneakers making a light tread on the tile. I stretch my arms over my head as I walk to the entrance. Out the window, the open field beside our building is dark. I can barely see the slope that I know rises up to a road that runs next to the next set of office buildings and the barracks.

    I hear the phone in the clerk’s office ring, but there’s nothing particularly unusual about that at this hour because of the time difference; people frequently fax documents from the States during our nighttime in Okinawa. The fax ticks away, a counterpoint to the flying bugs banging into the glass on the door and the light just outside of it. Tick-tick-tick. In seven hours, David Ponder is going to be facing a jury, and likely going to jail. Unless that fax. . .

    I walk hurriedly to the defense clerk’s office and go to the fax machine behind the clerk’s desk. Letter-sized sheets are spitting out, face down. I grab one and flip it over to see if it has anything to do with me. The cover sheet is from the Washington Navy Yard. I grab the whole stack while more keep sliding out.

    My eyes flick over the words.

    “YEAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” I let out a guttural yell that echoes throughout the empty building. “Can you feel that, huh!?! Baby, can ya’!?” My best Ace Ventura, hips thrusting, fist pumping. I want to cry with relief. We beat the clock by seven hours. I’ve kept my promise to David and his wife, to Jason Stonewall, and Vittolino Arroyo. We have a stay from the Navy Marine Corps Court of Criminal Appeals. No one’s going to jail tomorrow.

                                                                                                                                                                           

    I take my time packing up and make a few copies of the stay. Before I leave, somewhere near 3 am, I take a ten-penny nail and hammer the stay to the prosecution’s office door. I don’t do it right through the middle, however, because I’m still a Marine Officer and someone might bitch to the CO about a nail in the door. I hammer the nail just deep enough to look like someone was careless; but not all the way through the door, for example. I also place the nail an inch or two above the middle of the sheet, close enough to the top of the sheet that it doesn’t look like it was intentionally in the middle, but far enough down that someone will have to either rip the paper in half to get it off or pry out the nail. It’s an asshole move, to be certain, but I know it might be all the satisfaction I’m going to get in the long run, so I indulge myself. It’s the little “fuck yous” that matter in life. It won’t be the last laugh, but it’s enough to make me smile as I walk to my car for the drive back to Kadena Air Base officer housing and my wife and four daughters.

  • Injun Zombie Presidential Candidate #4: Out of Breath

    Episode 1

    Episode 2

    Episode 3

    Charlie woke with a start. He fumbled around in the wispy, pale moonlight fluttering through the curtains of the open window. With a crash, he found his cup of water, spilling it on the floor of the Airstream trailer.

    The dreams were getting worse now that Lizzie had run away. Thoughts began to peek through his rational facade that scared him. He didn’t even have a frame of reference to process his fear that she was somehow telepathically connected with him. He thought of the way that she absorbed the personality traits of those she ate. Maybe it worked both ways. Maybe the Demon was in him, too. He rubbed an old scar from a particularly nasty session with Lizzie. He flashed back to the struggle, wincing while he remembered how she bit straight through his skin when he tried to restrain her.

    He knew that the undead had traits that seemed fantastic to the uninitiated, but he and the Scientist could always find a biological reason for those traits. Telepathy? That seemed more Star Trek than Frankenstein.

    A clink of glass carried across the trailer from the Scientist’s quarters. Charlie didn’t know what time it was, but he knew he could really use a stiff drink and somebody to talk to. He grabbed a pair of tumblers and a bottle of scotch as he shimmied his way through the public space to the obviously aftermarket door and wall that denoted the start of the Scientist’s lab and personal quarters.

    The murmur of a pair of low voices piqued Charie’s curiosity. It wasn’t uncommon to have unannounced visitors come in the night, but usually he knew about it. Following a terse knock, Charlie let himself in. He found himself standing in front of a familiar face that he hadn’t seen for a long time. Abner had to be over 100 years old, but he hardly looked a day over 65. The cause of his youthful look was dribbling down his chin. He finished the iridescent yellow elixir with a swig. The Scientist’s anti-aging serum wasn’t the best tasting drink Charlie had ever quaffed, but one couldn’t argue with the results.

    “Abner! What are you doing so far from home?” Charlie’s tone betrayed that he was more surprised at the identity of the messenger than the fact that a messenger was in his trailer in Nowhere, Oklahoma at God-knows-what-hour of night.

    “Well,” Abner’s voice cracked as he cringed at the aftertaste of the serum, “I have some good news, some useful information, and an earnest plea.”

    Charlie set down the tumblers and opened the scotch bottle. He poured enough in each glass to require care as he handed the Scientist one.

    “I take it you don’t want your drink in that,” Charlie nodded at the test tube still clutched in Abner’s fist. Abner looked down at his hand and set the test tube into the laboratory sink alongside a small pile of dirty glassware. Charlie ducked his head out into the kitchen and retrieved a third tumbler.

    “I was just telling the Scientist that they sent me here to release you from this dusty perdition. Out of an abundance of caution we wanted to let things cool off after the Clark Panel report, but you can return to Massachusetts,” Abner probed for a reaction from Charlie, knowing full well that the Scientist was too stoic to provide satisfaction. Charlie obliged, sighing relief. The Oklahoma exile was hard for all of them, but Charlie felt like he was starting to go a little bit mad.

    “So that’s the good news, what is the useful information?” the Scientist showed uncharacteristically earnest curiosity. Charlie noticed that the Scientist’s scotch glass was already nearly empty.

    “Well, you need to return to Massachusetts this week because we have solid information leading us to the conclusion that Elizabeth is on her way to visit Edward.” Abner downed his scotch in a gulp, bracing himself for an onslaught. Charlie flinched at the mention of Lizzie’s name, and again at the mention of Teddy’s. To say that this business of the undead had gotten out of control was an understatement.

    “I just want to finish by asking you to think carefully about what you’re about to do. You know as well as I do that Lizzie is a confused girl dealing with more than any,” Abner paused with  a look of unease as he searched for the correct word, “person should have to. Don’t write her off like you did Jack. She can still be saved!”

    Without waiting for a response, Abner dropped his gaze away from his compatriots and grabbed a duffel bag resting on a lab stool. He retrieved a lined sheet of paper previously torn from a spiral bound notebook and folded in half. He placed it on the middle of the table with a tangible resignation in his demeanor.

    “Martha’s Vineyard by the 19th. You’ll need to hurry, but we don’t foresee Lizzie getting there any sooner. Even if she does, Teddy’s gonna be busy screwing all of Bobby’s fangirls the night before, so he won’t have time for his sister. However, a two day regatta is one day too long for a Kennedy.” With a curt nod, Abner let himself out.

    Charlie picked up the note, an address in Massachusetts, and stuck it into his front pocket with an absent minded gaze at nothing in particular. After nearly a year of confusion, concern, and anger it was time to go get Lizzie back.


    “Mmmmmmmm…… aaaaahhhhhhhhh,” the distinctive nasal voice of Teddy Kennedy would’ve been recognizable by Lizzie even if she was blindfolded. Maybe it was the years they spent together in Oklahoma before he was ready to replace the stand-in. Maybe it was the cloying mix of pretentious New England fart huffer with idiot Boston fishmonger. Whatever it was, it seemed to grate on Lizzie more than in the past. As she lay prone on the floorboard of the Oldsmobile 88, she could hear the unmistakable rhythm of skin smacking skin.

    “Ohhhhhhh…. yeaaaaaaahhhhh,” Teddy moaned in pleasure, shaking the car with his awkward thrusts. “mmmmnnmmmm” groaned a feminine voice, resembling more an incoherent gag than a sexual oratory.

    “Where’s Crimmins?” Lizzie matter of factly queried, popping her head up between the seats. Teddy jolted upright, his flinch launching his human codpiece into the dashboard, hard. Teddy’s hands began to shake as he responded.

    “Jjjjj- Joan, it’s not what it looks like.” He stammered, covering his throbbing manhood with his fly. He began to zip his pants up.

    “Oh, that’s not Joan draped over the console?” Lizzie smirked as she leaned her head into a ribbon of light cutting through the cabin. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, what would Joanie think about this? Little brother Teddy’s out here getting his knob polished by some whore and Joanie’s probably back at home getting freight trained by Teddy’s friends.”

    “Shit, Sis! What the hell?!?” Teddy immediately relaxed, turning his head with a faint smile contrasting the beads of sweat forming where his brow previously furrowed. “I don’t even know what you just said, but I’m glad it’s you and not somebody else! Now… get out.” He slammed on the brakes, kicking up a cloud of dust and flinging the unconscious girl in the front seat back into the dashboard.

    “Little brother, I can’t get out. I have nowhere to go. I need your help.” Lizzie transformed her personality into the insecure tormented girl that Teddy remembered. “I…. I” she expertly quivered her lip, feigning fear and insecurity “I ran away. I couldn’t take it any more!”

    “What can I do about it?” Teddy dismissively retorted. “As you can see, I have enough secret squirrel shit going on in my life right now. I don’t need to go flitting off with my fugitive sister.”

    “Teddy, Teddy, Teddy. You always were in need of firm guidance. I’m sorry that Joan can’t keep you better heeled.” Lizzie’s condescension dripped like the blood flecked drool pooling under the passenger girl’s mouth. “You’re never gonna become President if you keep slipping the leash and disappointing all the women in your life.”

    “Fuck you, Lizzie! I’m gonna be President like my brother. Like my other brother should have been. I’m gonna do it, and I’m gonna do it the right way! Charlie and the Scientist are fools, but they can get me where I need to be. They can get me into the Oval Office!” He raged while shaking the steering wheel, white knuckles apparent in the gleam of a far off light. “And one more thing, you stupid, conniving bitch! I don’t need any fucking woman to get into the White House. No woman is gonna get me there and no woman is gonna prevent me from getting there! I don’t need Joan, and I don’t need an older sister who nags me like a disappointed mom! You don’t know better! You don’t know jack shit, and I don’t know where you get off coming all the way up here to try to fuck with my head! It ain’t my fault you bailed out on Charlie and the Scientist!”

    “I DO KNOW BETTER THAN YOU!” Lizzie roared. “AND I AM YOUR MOTHER! HEED ME OR FEEL MY WRATH!”

    As the momentary fear and surprise cleared from Teddy’s face, he began to chuckle. “I guess Lizzie finally found a set of balls. Now, I still don’t know why you’re here and I don’t know why you think I need your advice. I already told you I’m not in a position to help you.”

    Lizzie smirked, holding her dramatic pause for perfect effect. “Well, what about the dead hooker in your passenger seat?”

    Teddy glanced over unconcernedly. ” She’s not dead, and she’s not a hooker. Look, she’s fine. Here, here you go.” He pulled the girl’s head over to inspect her face. Lizzie noticed that her makeup was smeared like a Picasso painting and her eyelids were halfway open. “Maggie, Maggie! No wait, Martha! No, that’s not right… Mary! Mary Jo! Yeah that’s it! Mary Jo! Wake up, it’s time to go!”

    “Unghhhhhhh…. mmmmmmmmmmnnnnmmmmmm” Mary Jo mumbled. Blood seeped from her nose and blended with her hooker red lipstick.

    “This girl is going to ruin you Teddy. She has to go.” Lizzie cajoled. “She can’t be allowed to talk Teddy, she’d destroy you and take my plans down with you. She has to go.”

    “Wwww-what should we do?” Teddy stammered. “Maybe if I take her home she won’t remember anything.”

    “Please, Teddy. She probably has a skull fracture, and your car is covered in her blood.” Lizzie dispassionately explained. “She has to go.”

    “No, I’m not one for dirty work like that. I’m not like you.” His fear cut through any fortitude he tried to muster.

    “You’re right.” Lizzie whispered, simultaneously grasping Mary Jo’s head and twisting until a gruesome crack echoed through the cabin. “I can handle the dirty work.” She dropped the lifeless body of Mary Jo Kopechne back into the passenger seat without a hint of emotion. “Now drive down to the dike. We need to dispose of the trash.”

    After ditching the car in the water, Teddy and Lizzie began the long walk back to civilization, bantering like siblings, reflecting back on their time together 1500 miles away in Oklahoma.

    “You’ve really changed Lizzie. That little girl I knew in Oklahoma doesn’t exist anymore. You’re confident, driven. There’s no conflict anymore.” Teddy observed, breaking the silence that had settled in as they walked around the emptiness of Martha’s Vineyard.

    “I know what needs to happen. I have a plan now. I know best. Not Charlie, not the Scientist. I am right, and all I need is the power to make things right.” Lizzie explained. “You can have your Presidency, but I’ll be the first woman President, I’ll make sure the American people act like they should. No more chaos. No more disorganization. I can harmonize it all. I can control the uncontrollable. I can make America do the right thing in glorious lockstep. It will be…” she paused in what appeared to be genuine emotion “beautiful.”

    “Lizzie, you’ve made strides in adapting to being around them,” Teddy gestured broadly toward the distant lights of the town, “but you’re not ready yet. Charlie and the Scientist are right to take it slowly with you. You’re a bit much to handle in a social setting. Your emotions are all over the place. You make people uncomfortable. And besides, even if you were ready for the rise to power, America isn’t ready for a woman President. You need to bide your time and make yourself boring. Lizzie Warren should remind people of that caring schoolteacher or the gentle motherly neighbor, not of a thunderstorm personified.”

    “You are wise beyond your years, Teddy.” Lizzie patted him on the shoulder. “You’re right. I’ll go reconcile with Charlie and the Scientist. Just like you, I need them for a while longer. Now I’ll go make myself boring. Maybe in a few years I’ll even remind you of that headteacher that I ate.”

    Teddy chuckled as they parted ways.

    Meanwhile, Charlie started awake after yet another nightmare. Pharoah Lizzie spent all night whipping slaves until they were in a perfect geometric procession. Charlie still smarted from the licks of the lash he had earned as he struggled to keep stride.

  • Tuesday Afternoon Links

    “Tuesday… still only in Tuesday…” Tuesday is meeting day for me. All. Fucking. Day. I don’t want to talk to another human being until tomorrow. But I have a wife and two small children, so I might as well wish for a unicorn that shits money and pisses good beer.

    Dear IFLS crowd: every fucking star is a “thermonuclear explosion”. I hate you all and wish you would die in highly exothermic chemical reaction.

    Ad guy gets free ad placement in news for $118 dollars in fines.

    Iowans want a return to sanity?

    This is a pretty shitty thing to do to someone.


    Dem Deathwatch: A New Hope

     

  • The Enlightenment in the 21st Century

    I have noticed on the interwebz a lot of back and forth talk of the Enlightenment. What was it, was it good, was it bad and how does it affect us. Well my fine fellows, Pie is here, yet again, to give the knowledge to the masses. After carefully studying the debate on the merits of the Enlightenment for about 10 minutes or so, I am going to drop a few ideas here.

    Wait! Is that really sufficient research on such a complex topic? Yes, but more importantly I noticed a lot of stuff about it on the internet and felt this site also needs more posts on the Enlightenment, otherwise we will have a post gap on our hands. We need more scholarly, profoundly intellectual pieces around here anyways. What is the Enlightenment? What does it mean? What does the future hold?

    Where shall we begin? Well at the beginning if you will.

    In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. And God saw the light, and it was good; and God divided the light from the darkness. Or the big bang happened followed by billions of years or random particles doing random particle shit and out of this whole mess, plus some soup along the way, here we all are, dicking around on the internet. I may have skipped a bit over the boring parts.

    Let there be light. But it was not light all the time. Sometime it was night. And a few measly stars and the moon don’t cut it, especially inside or when it is cloudy or rainy or snowy or murky or generally unpleasant. Hupersons (let’s not be sexist y’all) have always had strange relationship with the dark. It was dangerous and mysterious. It caused fear and awe and inspiration and fascination. And while the dark was not necessarily bad, humans fought against in since they mastered fire. The dark was worse in winter, and often accompanied by the cold, so warmth was needed as much as light. But with fire, both were more or less achieved.

    Fire was the first push against the dark. The bonfire and the hearth; the torch and the primitive lamp, made of stone or bone or shell, likely using resins or animal fats as fuel. As human civilization advanced, oil lamps and candles and rushligths – if you were poor and basic- appeared. Followed by gas lamps of various shapes and forms and, finally, after one hundred thousand years of struggle or more, glorious electricity.

    Electricity was a game changer. It made night into day, it extended the time and scope of human activity, it changed biorhythms and habits and it, in a way, remade civilization. After electricity, we could say we conquered the darkness. We may have conquered it a bit too much, if you count light pollution and the fact that some people searched the darkness. You want, off course, what you are missing, and the world and its dangers were tamed in many ways.

    Fire and electricity brought, besides light, other comforts against the cruel world, heat and cold, depending on what you want, chiefly among them. This was later called by historians The Enlightenment, the mass bringing of light and comfort into human civilization. Because what else would the enlightenment be? It has light right there in the name, so don’t you @ me, as the olds say on twitter these days, I am sure the kids have moved on to whatever bullshit goes on tik tok.

    I mention comfort because, despite the fight against the dark and the cold, more or less successful, for the majority of human history people lived in dwellings that, unless the season was just right, were either cold or hot or damp, and most definitely dark. Because, while fire and lamps and candles and stoves worked some, they worked in a very limited fashion, creating an oasis of light and warmth in the cold and dark, and people huddled inside it.

    But the darkness is fighting back. In the form of the modern green movement. Like the puritans of yesteryear, only weirder, they do not like what the Enlightenment brought. Demons and witches ahem CO2 is lurking in the miracles of the age, which are nothing but a Trojan horse for a magnum destruction of the entire world. Repent, ye heathens, the end is nigh.

    Now don’t get me wrong. I like the environment. I even live in it. I like mountains and forests and lakes and rivers as such. I am not pro pollution, although CO2 as pollution is sort of debatable. What I do not like is the quasi-religious aspect of the movement and, in reference to the text I have written, the miserabilist aspects. The green movement does not seem to be “let’s see what we can do to best preserve the world and keep our comfort, given the various trade-offs”. Nonono my friends, this is not what the Khmer Vert (h/t K. Niemitz) are all about. Besides being more or less a front for socialism, with little if at all to do with saving the world, they are so damn anti-inspirational. What happened to dreaming of a world where we can have all the things we want? Their solutions are mostly towards poverty. Turn off the lights! Turn down the heat! No AC! Go back to living in to cold, to hot, to damp dark dwellings. No meat. Shower every other day. No flying.  I am going to have to go  with “no” on this one. If fact Hell No. The devil Marx take these people!

    I do not want to live in a cold, damp, dark home. I don’t want to live in a tiny home. I want to eat food I like and drink good wine and get the occasional vacation in. I want to have the freedom to decide my life, what I do, where I work, keep my money and decide how I spend it. I am open to preserve the environment, because it is obvious I, like many people, do not want to live on a devastated planet. Not that the planet is currently devastated or anywhere near it, at least not in the civilized world.  So I will take a movement serious as long as they preserve this things.

    We have the most technologically advanced civilization in human history. We should be able to find a solution to lowering CO2 if so we wish. Hint: nuclear. Now I may be excessively optimistic on nuclear. But I do not think so. I think there are plenty of promising techs. Some say it is expensive or dangerous. Dangerous I doubt it, not truly, not if you are a bit careful. For storing the waste there are solutions. Although a lot of the issues would be solved by molten salt reactors. I am not even talking fusion or such. Personally, I think it is silly to burn coal for power in the 21st century. Maybe it is the techno optimist in me. I think nuclear could give sufficient cheap power, enough to replace fossil fuel heating in most places with electrical. And nuclear is a much more elegant solution than anything else.

    But nuclear is dismissed out of hand. This makes it very hard for me to take the greenies seriously in any fashion. Even if it was dangerous now, the view should be let’s see if we can get it safe. It is not, which makes me think that CO2 is not the real reason. The real reason is socialism and misery and cold and dark and stupid shit like wind mills and solar panels.

    We put a goddamn man on the goddamn moon, to be all cliché about it. I would say have a damn moonshot on nuclear. But that is just me.  Enlightenment now. Fiat lux!

  • Tuesday Morning Links

    Still the only ones

    The living members of that old Miami Dolphins team can break out the champagne or cigars or whatever they do when the last undefeated team loses. Is that still a thing? If it is, its still douchey. Meanwhile on the ice, Carolina pounded Ottawa and Phoenix beat the Crapitals in OT.  No other sports results of note from yesterday. It was even a lean day for college basketball. But relax, because the CFP rankings are coming tonight and I’m sure there will be a lot of people scratching their heads. I expect to be one of them.

    Crazy fuck Charles Manson

    Women’s rights activist Elizabeth Cady Stanton was born on this day.  As were sculptor Auguste Rodin, Chinese revolutionary Sun Yet-sen, beer magnate Joseph Coors, Barbie doll inventor Jack Ryan, actress Kim Hunter, the lovely Grace Kelly, “family” man Charles Manson, sportscaster Al Michaels, Canadian and assclown Neil Young, “white” Hispanic ballplayer Sammy Sosa, and onetime figure skater Tonya Harding.

    That’s quite the list of non-heroes there. At least a few good ones mixed in, but sheesh.  Anyway on to…the links!

    If you didn’t see this coming, you’re blind as a bat. I wonder how she’ll manage to keep all her corruption under wraps now that she’s inevitably going to be elected to Congress.  Ah, she’ll escape scrutiny. She’s still in mourning, after all.

    Carter has entered the concussion protocol.

    Former president Jimmy Carter has been hospitalized to relieve pressure on the brain. I wish him well, but the dude is really old and becoming quite frail.

    Well the weather outside is frightful.

    But the fire is so delightful.

    How long before the unions for big police forces demand body cameras go away? This is small potatoes, but its endemic of their “I do whatever I want” mentality.

    Some people got no sense of humor. Also, the California Pale Ale is among the best pale ales made.  Because it’s not all hopped up. Don’t @ me.

    “That looks worse than Bakersfield!”
    -Okies

    Just in case you were ever crazy enough to ponder it: if you value your lungs, don’t go to New Delhi.

    Still working on a theme. I’ll think of it eventually. In the meantime, here’s another great solo act.

    Now, stay warm and go have a great day, friends!

  • Poll: Dentists

    My MIL is getting some long overdue new dentures, and it has fallen to me, the dental phobic, to escort her to her appointments.

    I’ve never had a dentist not hurt me. This guy promises as pain-free a procedure as possible for Mom. We shall see.

    Today’s questions:

    How do you feel about going to the dentist?

    How often do you go?

    Do you have dental insurance? Is it worth a dental dam? (I crack myself up!)

     

    Discuss!

  • Monday Afternoon Links

    Man, is there anyone at this site that’s easy to follow with links? Swiss knocked it out of the park… as usual. Happy Veteran’s Day to those who served.

    This may be a perfectly legitimate ruling in keeping with standard practices, but I have no earthly idea what actually happened based on this article.

    Setting unarmed people on fire is not a good look for Hong Kong pro-democracy protesters.

    Well this is pretty cool.

    Look, something GenXers and their younger siblings can agree on: it’s all the old people’s fault.

    Look at Robin Hood over here. I’m gonna guess from the quality of the description and the fact that the suspect was “known to the victims” that the attacker might have been also homeless. Maybe CA should require a verified domicile before selling archery equipment.

     

     

  • Veterans’ Day 2019 – Something To Hear

     

    While it isn’t “In Flanders Fields“, I have my own contribution to War Poetry…Over Tigris In The Night. Enjoy, deride, ignore, ponder…whatever you desire. I am not your supervisor. Nor am I detaining you.

    Happy Veteran’s Day to my Brothers. I look back at some of the things we did, and scarce believe I was part of any of it. I will lift a glass to all of you tonight.

    Swiss Servator somewhere near Baghdad. 2008.

     

    Swiss Servator nowhere near Baghdad. 11-11-18.

     

    NOTE: The music is an original composition. It was given to me. Don’t sell it, on penalty of STEVE SMITH visiting you! Also, I did not narrate this, the music composer did…I just wrote the poem one night, after coming back to Baghdad from Taji.

    Here it is in text:

    In a quiet waiting line
    of Soldiers at the twilight.
    Stirring when we hear
    the rotor whine of
    blades come near.

    The crew chief waves us o’er
    to his waiting craft.
    Armored, belted, locked we sit
    near each open door
    on the frame – we lift!

    Over groves of date palm
    and scattered farms we streak.
    Turning to follow Tigris’ path along,
    our rotors sound an airborne Psalm.
    A turbine-soul, given song.

    Baghdad’s lights catch me
    with a dazzling flash.
    So low flew our mission
    o’er Tigris’ flow, it seemed we
    slipped into a dream-like vision

    A flare a-lights, joins our Iraqi night,
    but soon melts into the City colors.
    The door gunners keep watch upon
    the River banks as our flight
    soars over bridges there – then gone.

    We turn by the heart of Baghdad,
    and the crew scans the night
    one last time. Soon we dropped
    to the silent concrete pad,
    the rotor hum then abated.

    Though my day was passing long,
    the night had shown me wonders
    and I was loathe to let them go.
    Reverie takes the place of engine-song
    The others silent, perhaps thinking so.

  • Monday Morning Links

    Looks like they’re for real.

    Looks like that boat-rowing thing is for real after all.  And so is Lovie! The Buckeyes did what they do to everybody this year (without the best defensive player in the NCAA being sidelined because the powers that be are fucked in the head), and Bama was finally exposed after playing a team with a pulse. I’m interested to see how the CFP shuffles the deck after some untested teams were finally tested and after Bama lost to the only ranked team they’ve faced all year to this point.

    In the NFL, there were a couple big upsets, including the Chefs going down.  The Dolphins actually won a game, meaning the Bungles are officially the worst team around (edit: after the Ravens beat them like so many others have done this year). The Browns won, which will pull a few people off suicide watch. And the Steelers keep grinding and actually sit in a wild card spot. Which is just amazing to me.

    Pep telling the fourth official how many goals he lost by

    Oh yeah, and Liverpool thrashed Man City to put a stranglehold on the PL. Arsenal are circling the drain and Chelski and Leicester keep impressing.  Last international break of the year coming up now. Let’s see what new low the USMNT can reach during it.

    “Hey Kurt, you read lips? Fuck you!”

    Fyodor Dosteyevsky was born on this day.  He shares it with General George Patton, medical pioneer Joseph Hamilton, writer (and actor) Kurt Vonnegut, scumbag politician Barbara Boxer, corrupt politician Corinne Brown, golfer and bad joke-maker Fuzzy Zoeller, actress Demi Moore, underrated actor Stanley Tucci, and actor and exclusive dater of women under 25 Leonardo DiCaprio.

    OK, now let’s see what the world has going on with…the links!

    Giant asshole Peter King (R-NY)

    Warmonger, IRA apologist, and fan of the government controlling our lives will not seek reelection. Gee, what a shame.  Hopefully he spends his golden years doing something more productive with his time. Like emptying bedpans at a VA hospital he and his ilk have filled with way too many people.

    Since so few people have voluntarily complied with New Zealand’s gun turn-in program, the government are set to just abandon due process and privacy rights. I’m curious to see if the Kiwis will stand for this or if they’ll buckle under like the Aussies did.

    Jesus, hasn’t this family suffered enough already? My heart goes out to them. And I pray they’ll receive justice in the form of that cop going away for a very, very long time. Come on Texas jury. Keep your streak of holding cops accountable intact.

    The GOP want Hunter Biden and others to testify in the impeachment “inquiry” hearings. Schiff has already said he won’t allow a few key figures to testify in the public hearings because it would be “redundant”.  Let’s see what he says about the former VP’s cokehead son at the center of the controversy.

    Sacre bleu!

    I kept trying to come up with a clever way to link this. But you’ll have to give me a hand coming up with one. I am honestly stumped but the story was so freaking weird I had to link it knowing that y’all will create a gaze-worthy stream of puns in the comments.

    As the Supreme Court weighs DACA, the plaintiff in the case gives his thoughts. You know, there’s a simpler solution to the whole mess: Congress can stop abdicating their responsibilities on the issue to the executive branch (and changing EOs with changing administrations), and do their job writing actual legislation.

    I don’t have a musical theme for the week just yet. I hope to come up with one. But the week starts with this gem. Hope you enjoy.

    That’s it, friends.  Thank a veteran for all they’ve done if you get a chance. And have a great day.