Boys beware!

Go ahead and watch this film. I know it's kind of offensive, but watch it anyway. You'll need it for reference.




All done? Good. Look, this film was made in 1961. As late as the 1970s I remember being warned about homosexuals and public restrooms every time we went to Portland to go shopping. Times have changed. Can we agree that this would be repudiated today?

Except in one case, and here's where you need to think back to the film. If you made this film today, and replaced the word "homosexual" with "priest," it would be acclaimed in media reviews and perhaps shown in every school in the country. Put a white collar on Ralph and nobody would question its veracity.

Want evidence? Pull up almost any news story dealing with the Catholic Church. Even on an unrelated story, look down at the reader comments and see how far down you have to read before some yahoo brings up the fondling fathers. It's worse on the actual abuse stories. Some people actually believe that the Church runs schools and orphanages for the sole purpose of keeping its priests supplied with victims. And God forbid anyone should suggest that any accusation might be exaggerated. Better to be a Nazi than a priest in today's climate.

I once asked David Clohessy, the executive director of SNAP (Survivors' Network of those Abused by Priests) whether his organization had ever, under any circumstances, admitted that a given priest had been cleared of charges and deserved to be left in ministry. He didn't answer, but a look at the organization's website suggests that they not only haven't, but would consider the whole idea preposterous. An uncharged priest is just a pervert who hasn't been caught yet.

This leads into another post, which I'll put up in a bit.

There's oldies...

...and then there's oldies.



A song by Nick Alexander that I put up with Long Drink in mind. He's taken up Latin as a hobby and I thought he'd get a kick out of it.

This one's for Ricki

Because there might be a couple of variations here that she hasn't heard a thousand times.

Swinging into the weekend

It's been a while since I've posted. Not that there's any lack of things to comment on these days. But between work and family stuff, there just hasn't been much time. (Including planning a family reunion! More about that as it unfolds.)

So just for the heck of it, a western swing song that I find darkly amusing (and unable to get out of my head) from the Sweet Violet Boys, courtesy of High-Falutin' Newton:

Ask your doctor if it's right for you

There was a time when I wish my doctor would have said these things to me.



The dialogue in this is NSFW, which in this case stands for Not Safe For Wives. Nor for work, for that matter. A little crude. But gents, you'll appreciate it.

Via Miss C.

See what I mean?

Here's a good example of the sort of sneering I was responding to in my earlier post:

In fact, it does not matter what Wal-Mart does. We will still hate it. Because our hatred for Wal-Mart is not, in fact, based on anything the company does; it is based on what the company is. It is a big box. A big, bland, concrete warehouse. It hurts us, the very vision of it. Wal-Mart comes into town and builds an ugly box and then all the regular little stores shut down, and all that is left is a big ugly box on the outskirts of town. And inside that box are bright, harsh lights and ugly Republican people and lots of NASCAR-branded items and a pervasive atmosphere of small-town hopelessness.

I'll bet Hamilton Nolan (hereinafter referred to as "Dickhead") has never tried to support a family of nine on an annual salary under thirty grand. That's the sort of thing that only us ugly, hopeless, Republican Wal-Mart customers would do. While raising the ugly, hopeless, Republican children that will someday support his pretty, selfish, elitist ass.

A valentine to film noir

Found this over at Miss Cellania's place. I love the way it brings out the natural subconscious rhythm of the noir. The YouTube page has a list of the films used. I was surprised at how many I recognized but couldn't put a name to. I'll have to watch again and see if they jump out at me a little more.

I wish there were a way to give the maker of this video as much applause as he (she?)deserves.

Refusing to sow the seeds of prosperity

When the economy tanks, it's trendy to blame either the president in power or his predecessor, whichever one you voted against. In reality, there's dang little that a president can do to affect the economy very much, at least in our checked-and-balanced system. Little nudges here and there are the most we can - or should - expect from a chief executive.

So I don't hold either President Obama or President Bush responsible for the current recession. It was going to happen anyway, sooner or later. Later it might have been worse.

That said, I think we're inexorably headed for a crash that will make this one look like a minor slump. It will hit just as my Generation X begins to head into the later years of our lives. Already, we're the first generation since the turn of the last century to earn less money overall than our parents. And we're shaping up to be poorer than our children, too.

But that's for those of us who have children. Mark Steyn enunciates what I've been saying for years to anyone who will listen: Contraception and child-aversion are literally going to be the ruin of our country.

What’s happening in the developed world today isn’t so very hard to understand: The 20th-century Bismarckian welfare state has run out of people to stick it to. In America, the feckless, insatiable boobs in Washington, Sacramento, Albany, and elsewhere are screwing over our kids and grandkids. In Europe, they’ve reached the next stage in social-democratic evolution: There are no kids or grandkids to screw over. The United States has a fertility rate of around 2.1 — or just over two kids per couple. Greece has a fertility rate of about 1.3: Ten grandparents have six kids have four grandkids — ie, the family tree is upside down. Demographers call 1.3 “lowest-low” fertility — the point from which no society has ever recovered. And, compared to Spain and Italy, Greece has the least worst fertility rate in Mediterranean Europe.

So you can’t borrow against the future because, in the most basic sense, you don’t have one. Greeks in the public sector retire at 58, which sounds great. But, when ten grandparents have four grandchildren, who pays for you to spend the last third of your adult life loafing around? [Emphases mine]

This is another case in which there's not a heck of a lot the government can do. It's societal attitudes that need to change, and government is notoriously bad at accomplishing that.

As Steyn points out, each generation is eventually dependent on the generation following it to pay the taxes that will support us. The way our economy is structured now, we're dependent on generations not yet born to repay our debts. This would be possible if there were going to be enough producers to support their elders who are becoming consumers. But Americans are trying hard to ensure there won't be.

Look at the vile way the Duggar family is spoken of in liberal circles. (This attitude isn't limited to political liberals, but that does seem to be where it's strongest.) They're called creepy, brainwashed, disgusting. One assclown wrote a screed four and a half years – and three Duggars – ago that still makes me want to take a two-by-four to his skull.

How a person reacts to the Duggar family – or even to our own eight kids – says volumes about how much he cares about the future.

Now, I know people who have no children for valid reasons. I'm thinking of one blog-friend (whom I won't link because I don't want to embarrass her) who says frankly that her own upbringing was so screwed up that she doesn't think she could raise children well. Obviously there are people who have never married, or stayed married, and so aren't in a position to raise kids. And naturally there are people who simply can't produce any. So it goes. Families like ours can fill a little bit of the gap.

But what about the vast number of Americans who simply don't want to have children, or who intentionally have only one or two, because they don't want to go to the trouble? They don't want to have to shop at Wal-Mart, or pre-plan their evenings out, or work at a job that allows time for a family. That's their choice, you say? Their preference? Practicing responsible family planning? Phooey. That's selfishness. It's the equivalent of dining-and-dashing. And the party at the next table is going to be stuck with the tab.

As we see in Stein's article, the current crisis in Greece is the same thing we're gearing up for. Currently we're coasting on the fecundity of our grandparents and great-grandparents. But twenty years from now, there will be no legacy left. To quote Robert Heinlein, nobody owns his genes; he's merely their custodian. Non-breeders have no right to leave the rest of us in the lurch this way.

What we need is to stop regarding children as a hassle, or as a burden, or as a commodity. That's right, the "As God is my witness I will give birth to something that looks just like me" people - the ones who insist on fertility treatments and in vitro fertilization instead of adopting children who need parents - have the same crappy approach that the intentionally childless have. In both cases, they're treating children as something other than what they are: little people. Human beings, the same as themselves.

Now, it sounds like I'm making a contradiction here. Are children people, or are they taxpayers? The truth is, they're both. They're human beings whose existence is intrinsically a good thing. And they're also our future. They're worth having and worth investing in. A society that values them will be a society that benefits from them. A society that prevents, aborts and objectifies them is headed over the precipice. It's probably already too late.

H/T to The Paragraph Farmer.

Next week on Family Guy...

Meg's new classmate is a little girl described as a "pickaninny," who says "Mah mamma is the Fuhst Lady and the President's mah daddy... Ah thinks."

Liberals expected to find this hilarious.

'Sgen ti sws i fi? (For Wharf Rat)

Making some use of the USB turntable my Lovely and Brilliant Wife gave me as a Father's Day present last year, I transferred some hard-to-find Welsh pop from vinyl to the computer. I remember Wharf Rat singing along with this song when she wasn't much more than three or four.

The title means "Do you have a kiss for me?" It's a really cute song by an 80s pop band called Bando, sung from the POV of children on the playground. The sort of rap-esque parts are actually Welsh nursery rhymes. Wharf Rat knew those, too, as I used to read them to her. If I get time I may see if I can transcribe the words one of these days. This is the accent I learned the language in, but I've gotten so rusty it's hard to make out some of them and the lyric sheet I had for the album has long ago disappeared.

I've heard of Miller Time, but...

This wasn't even a typo or anything. It was just a really, really unfortunate juxtaposition. The news layout person here at The Greatest Newspaper in the Northwest™ can't see the ads on the screen, so she had no idea what was next to the headline. Fortunately, the realtor (whose face I've intentionally blurred) has a good sense of humor.

It reminds me of a time years ago, when we still ran our own presses, and we got a furious phone call from the owner of a restaurant. He had placed an ad for experienced cooks and was unhappy with the result. Seems back in the press room, a speck of dust had fallen on the plate and turned the second "o" into a "c." That the ad also said "References required" didn't help. That guy didn't have a sense of humor. But then, who could blame him with the calls he was probably getting?

Looking backward through a glass darkly

For our anniversary, my Lovely and Brilliant Wife gave me a VCR-Computer converter so I could put the old movies I've stored away on VHS onto my computer and thence onto DVD. Well, the first thing I converted was my dad's wedding video from 1985. Because it wasn't copyrighted, I stuck it up on the Internet Archive for the world to see.

The quality is a little grungy, either from the aged tape or from my too-wimpy computer. Mostly it will be of interest to family members, although anyone who wants to is welcome to mock the sight of me, standing up as the best man at 18 in my first grown-up suit. (I still have that jacket hanging in my closet.)

It was really strange hearing my dad's voice. See, I sound a whole lot like him, just slightly lower. But Long Drink could be a ringer for him every time he opens his mouth. I hadn't realized they were that similar. Mostly, it was good just to see my dad as I remember him, six years before he died. We had kind of a complicated relationship, my dad and I, and I wish he could have lived to see it settle into normalcy and to enjoy his tribe of grandchildren.

I thought we settled this at Yorktown

BBC: Why don't Americans vote like their betters?

Condescending gits.

Smoke this, Frank Rich!

I can't see why anyone would waste perfectly good ink on this uncultured ass-ferret.

[T]he most common last-ditch argument for preserving “don’t ask” heard last week, largely from Southern senators, is to protect “troop morale and cohesion.” Every known study says this argument is a canard, as do the real-life examples of the many armies with openly gay troops, including those of Canada, Britain and Israel. But the argument does carry a telling historical pedigree. When Harry Truman ordered the racial integration of the American military in 1948, Congressional opponents (then mainly Southern Democrats) embraced an antediluvian Army prediction from 1940 stating that such a change would threaten national defense by producing “situations destructive to morale.” History will sweep this bogus argument away now as it did then.

This from a carefully-balanced editorial called "Smoke the Bigots out of the Closet." See, in Rich's world, it's only bigotry that keeps us all from thrusting the entire U. S. military into a frenzy of fabulosity.

Now, personally, I think the whole issue is going to need to be dealt with soon, and the solution is not to keep gay people out of the service altogether. DADT was nothing more than a stopgap and I don't think anyone expected it to be. I'm glad to see that President Obama isn't trying to force the issue through himself. Frankly, I don't think he's got the chops with the military to pull it off, even as commander-in-chief. But if the push comes from senior officers who have earned respect, they may be able to work out an accommodation that doesn't alienate the vast majority of servicemen who are heterosexual.

But Rich will have none of that. He draws on his vast knowledge of military culture, gleaned from avoiding service in Vietnam, to show that John McCain actually knows nothing about the profession of arms. And clearly, Marine wife Cassandra is just ironing her sheet and soaking her cross in gasoline when she writes:

Unlike skin color, human sexuality - whether female or male, heterosexual or homosexual - is a fundamental and extremely powerful driver of human behavior. To elide past this basic truth requires an almost willful act of blindness.

My own opinions about both women and gays openly serving in the military have undergone a radical shift during the last thirty years. I began by seeing no reason why both women and gays shouldn't be able to serve anywhere they wished to. What changed my mind over the years, contrary to the bigoted assertions of close minded individuals who refuse to entertain ideas that challenge their world view, was not misogyny or fear of Teh Gay...

There are rational objections to allowing gays to serve openly and they aren't based on the assumption that homosexuals behave differently than heterosexuals. They are based on the assumption that gays are no different from you and me. How is that bigotry?

Well, to Frank Rich, "bigotry" actually translates to "ability to count to twenty-one with your fly zipped." Read the whole thing. That will put you light-years ahead of the washed-up ignoramus who edits the New York Times.

P.S.: Here's more bigotry information from Cassandra that the Times will vilify you for knowing.

This is a vague title

I do this, at least on the rare occasions anymore that I write a long enough post. In fact, this is the two-sentence version of the same thing.

H/T to Patrick.

How is it possible...

... that these people once ruled a quarter of the globe?

I'm beginning to agree with Kathy Shaidle's assessment of modern Britain - "Dear Luftwaffe: Please come back. All is forgiven."

I'm evil

Clark and Vivian, wherever you are, forgive me.

I can't believe how much I enjoyed this

My Lovely and Brilliant Wife said, "That must have been the second box of wine." She also pointed out with some asperity that everybody who makes this kind of video is a guy. Well, yeah.



Akubra tip to SondraK.

I don't say this about many people. I don't believe I've ever said it of President Obama, nor of Ted Kennedy, nor of any number of politicians I'd love to see out of office.

But Martha Coakley is evil. Just plumb evil. She kept a man in prison for a crime that not only was he innocent of, but that had never even occurred. She let a genuine child rapist go, one whose crimes I can't even bring myself to type, because he had political connections that might affect her. This woman is not only unfit for office, I'm inclined to think she's unfit to share a planet with mildew.

I don't know Scott Brown from Adam. But I can damn sure tell the difference between him and this despicable waste of skin.

Musical weirdness

The original song was pretty good, at least the first thousand times. Even if only for the now-classic opening riff. But everything becomes exponentially cooler when you play it on a sitar.

A Blonde, a Bookstore and Bogie

There is a lovely young woman I work with who occasionally wears glasses around the office. Now, superficially she doesn't resemble Dorothy Malone, but for some reason, every time I see her in glasses I get a mental picture of this scene from The Big Sleep:



I tried to explain that to my beautiful co-worker, but it's hard to describe if you don't know the film. Update: After re-watching it, I'm amazed at how much they got past the censors. I'd forgotten how... charged it is.

(For the record, she is actually very ladylike and completely unlikely to lure a shamus into a bookstore with whiskey for some stockroom boom-boom.)

I guess I know what I was doing wrong

I'm modifying this post, because my personal experience doesn't need to be a part of the equation. (Although it does fuel my resentment a great deal.) But contrast the treatment given to Lisa Miller, whose child has been handed over to her ex-girlfriend (who has tenuous legal and no biological connection to the child), with that accorded Shannon Phillips, who stole Donald Tenn's daughter with the active and passive aid of the same authorities now pursuing Lisa.

Lisa is far from innocent here. She should have complied with the court's order to allow her ex to visit with the child. I share her moral position on the woman's lifestyle, but I don't think it would have been overtly harmful to the little girl. Isabella is going to encounter family (and pseudo-family) members that her mother doesn't approve of all her life anyway. Back when I was a single dad, I often thought my ex-wife's living arrangements weren't a good influence, but that wasn't enough reason to keep Wharf Rat from seeing her. Lord knows Long Drink's mother hasn't always approved of me, but she still sent him faithfully for his time here.

But even if she hadn't, do you honestly think the state would have taken her custody away and handed it to his father? (Hollow laughter) No, but this is a special case. It's meant to prove that Lisa's failure to approve of homosexuality is so harmful for the girl that drastic measures must be taken.

Seems to me, if the gay ex wants actual equality, she should get used to being treated like a father. Which often means writing a check and staying out of the way.

Seven wonderful years so far

Intreat me not to leave thee, nor to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God:

Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the LORD do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.

Happy anniversary to the most perfect woman the Lord could have picked out for me. I'm humbled and grateful.

(Oh, and thanks to Father Sam, who went way out of his way to come officiate at the wedding.)

Updates from the grinch zone

In case you can't tell, I recently found a place to store music files so I could blog them. (You can see the results below.) I also put my favicon and The Man Who Traveled in Elephants on there, so you won't get a 404 message from Geocities. Unfortunately, my home computer seems to have wheezed its last yesterday, so any blogging I do has to be done from the office (on my breaks, honest) until I get it back. If indeed I do.

Meanwhile, my schedule has been so hideous this last month and a half that I haven't been able to do much blogging even during my occasional jaunts home. I haven't forgotten that I owe Paul a video of humiliation, but I've been so doggone slammed that my kids have mostly forgotten what I look like. Serious. I walked in the other night and Ostrogoth clung to my wife's leg and whimpered, "Mama, who's that man? He's scary!" Thirteen years in the newspaper business have taught me to loathe the festive season.

I haven't figured out what to do about comments yet. Haloscan is about to upgrade to a paid service, and I think I may just bite the bullet and shell out the ten bucks a year to use it rather than lose all my comments from the last four and a half years. Apparently they allow you to export the archives for free, but none of the other platforms can import them. I'm a cheapskate when it comes to blogging - I promised myself when I started that I wouldn't take it seriously enough to pay money for it - but now I'm not sure I can quit.

In case I don't get anything more posted, Merry Christmas. And God help us, every one!

Yingling all de vay!

I wouldn't expect a man named O'Hannigan to be able to swot up a good Norwegian accent. In fact, given the ferocity with which my ancestors raped and pillaged his (not necessarily in that order), I would expect it to be blotted from his genetic memory altogether. Fortunately, The irreplaceable Yogi Yorgesson left us with an immortal seasonal classic to remember it by:



And Patrick? Sorry about that whole pillaging thing, man.

Hey, Nineteen!

My Virtuous and Excellent Daughter turned nineteen today. And I'll bet she's never even heard this:



Happy birthday! I love you!

Home for the holidays

A lapsed Catholic discovers that the Church, for all its warts, is still the Church.

It’s embarrassing to admit that I will go to Mass at Christmas, because I am clearly a bad Catholic. I am short-tempered, impatient, often the opposite of serene, and the number of Vatican rules I break doesn’t bear admitting. But, hey, if I didn’t go to Mass I’d probably be far worse.

I was educated at London state schools by bright nuns and committed Catholic lay teachers who firmly implanted in me the rhythms and inspiring messages of the church’s great festivals.

The commercialism of a Godless Christmas and Easter, reduced to conspicuous consumption and shorn of their epic tales of redemption, felt empty. I could never bring myself to use the word ‘Xmas’. Christ, the nuns always reminded us, was the feast’s whole point.

For years I used to sneak into my local church to pray when no one was there. While reporting child abuse horror stories I worked with an inspiring Christian police officer and confided my religious doubts. He gave me good, simple advice: ‘Take them to God. Just pray, “Lord, help me with my unbelief.”’

I surprised myself by even going to Confession for the first time in years. The priest put things in a nutshell when he gently asked: ‘Is your main argument with God or the Vatican?’

‘Oh, the Vatican,’ I blurted out.

‘Ah well, then,’ the priest chuckled, ‘I’m sure God the Almighty has far more problems with the Vatican than you. Welcome back!’

So that was it – it seemed that I didn’t have to sign up to the whole shebang to rejoin after all.

I don't understand people who can celebrate an entirely secular Christmas. It seems to me that whether you believe in the Nativity or you don't, it's still the point of the whole thing. If you can't in good conscience join with people who believe to celebrate that particular event, then why waste your time with the trappings?

If you haven't been to church in a while, Christmas is a good time to make an appearance. I promise, nobody's going to tie you to a pew and pummel you with a crozier until you can recite the Nicene Creed convincingly. And God's always happy to see you. Who knows? You might even feel like going back again sometime.

Glory to God in the weirdest!

This is from the 1984 punk compilation Midnight Christmas Mess. "Angels We Have Heard On High" as you never expected to hear it:

I dare you not to smile

Via the delightful Miss C.

Hey, it's the Chicago way!

Quit trying to shield babies or unemployment goes up. Babies die or families go under. You choose.

Akubra tip to Darleen at Protein Wisdom for the graphic.

Here we go again

The usual spate of "Christmas is just a revamped pagan holiday" articles, reminding us Christian redneck yahoos that we're really just glossing over a solstice ritual, or a Mithras-cult revel, or some such. Some of those are atheist pharisees, some are civil-religion bigots for whom all religions are equally superior to the Christian one, and some are just well-meaning people who have been told that all their lives.

Umm... nope.

Many Christians think that Christians celebrate Christ’s birth on December 25th because the church fathers appropriated the date of a pagan festival. Almost no one minds, except for a few groups on the fringes of American Evangelicalism, who seem to think that this makes Christmas itself a pagan festival. But it is perhaps interesting to know that the choice of December 25th is the result of attempts among the earliest Christians to figure out the date of Jesus’ birth based on calendrical calculations that had nothing to do with pagan festivals.

Rather, the pagan festival of the “Birth of the Unconquered Son” instituted by the Roman Emperor Aurelian on 25 December 274, was almost certainly an attempt to create a pagan alternative to a date that was already of some significance to Roman Christians. Thus the “pagan origins of Christmas” is a myth without historical substance.

The idea that the date was taken from the pagans goes back to two scholars from the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. Paul Ernst Jablonski, a German Protestant, wished to show that the celebration of Christ’s birth on December 25th was one of the many “paganizations” of Christianity that the Church of the fourth century embraced, as one of many “degenerations” that transformed pure apostolic Christianity into Catholicism. Dom Jean Hardouin, a Benedictine monk, tried to show that the Catholic Church adopted pagan festivals for Christian purposes without paganizing the gospel.

In the Julian calendar, created in 45 B.C. under Julius Caesar, the winter solstice fell on December 25th, and it therefore seemed obvious to Jablonski and Hardouin that the day must have had a pagan significance before it had a Christian one. But in fact, the date had no religious significance in the Roman pagan festal calendar before Aurelian’s time, nor did the cult of the sun play a prominent role in Rome before him.

Go read it all and be ready the next time someone tries to foist the "pagan" canard on you.

Today being the feast of St. Nicholas...

... I think I'll desecrate his blessed memory with the worst movie ever made about him. If you can sit through this one without chewing off your mouse arm to escape, you deserve a special award. (And if someone who's better at graphics wants to come up with one, I'll even bestow it on you.)

Please enjoy endure Santa Claus Conquers the Martians:

Science fiction: ahead of the curve for a reason

I lifted this Harry Turtledove short from last July's issue of Analog, which isn't available online. (If the publishers want to make a fuss, they can let me know and I'll take it down.) I'm posting the whole thing; it's too good just to excerpt.

Ironically, sci-fi writers tend to think more realistically than the average novelist because theirs is such a wildly speculative field. You can't write good 'what-ifs" without understanding the forces that go into making what actually is. And sure enough, it's much more relevant than it was last summer.

Try as we will, we can no longer deny the truth. The world is getting warmer. Glaciers everywhere are in full retreat. Shamans and wizards of many clans have joined together, and rightiy so, in stressing the disastrous environmental impact the withdrawal of the ice will have.

Many large mammal species - the bases of our economy and our very way of life - are certain to face displacement or even extinction as the weather worsens. Clans dependant upon woolly mammoths and woolly rhinoceri for sustenance will either have to migrate into new and unfamiliar hunting grounds or begin feeding upon smaller, less satisfactory prey animals such as caribou and horses. In certain heavily impacted areas, clans may be reduced to eating beavers and marmots. There have even been reports of the regular consumption of crayfish, mussels, and other fare normally contemplated only during famines. All such movements and lifestyle shifts, of course, also entail numerous violations of tabu. The cost of propitiation is certain to be high.

Worse problems may also lie ahead for affected areas. As the tundra retreats northward, invasive foliage from the south encroaches upon it. These "trees," as they are technically known, cannot support the biodiversity upon which we depend. Not only that, hunting becomes far more difficult: with the severely reduced horizon among trees, visibility and tracking suffer badly.

Furthermore, anecdotal reports trickling up from areas in the south already afflicted with trees indicated that predators peculiar to this degraded environment pose significant risks to hunters and even gatherers. These so-called "bears," if such sources may be relied upon, are large, wily, and dangerous in the extreme.

It is as yet unclear to those studying issues pertaining to "forests" (as accumulations of trees are termed) whether the beasts called "boars" are predators or prey. Not to be confused with bears, boars are simultaneously alleged to be both extremely tasty and swift and savage. As trees continue to advance onto tundra, cautious experimentation seems indicated.

So far, it will be noted, I have discussed only the incontrovertible fact of global warming, its likely impact upon us in the relatively near future, and short-term coping strategies. Many will say that we should not remain in a reactive mode, but should proactivety seek to reverse the deleterious effects of this warming trend. In some ways, though, such a proactive response seems more readily proposed than implemented.

Forward-thinking shamans - including some among the first to recognize the reality of our predicament - have naturally sought sorcerous countermeasures. Considerable appropriations of dried meat have enabled a large-scale research program unmatched since the one that led to the partial taming of fire (about which, in a rather different context, more soon). If only success were commensurate with effort! Even spells essayed in the dead of winter and in the anomalous cold darkness of solar eclipses have failed to halt or even slow the steady, apparently inexorable retreat of the glaciers and degradation of the tundra south of them.

Which brings me back to fire. Wizards have conclusively demonstrated that fire is a spear with a point at both ends, as likely to wound the ones who wield it as to aid them. Fire gives heat. It cooks food. So much has been known for many generations. Because of this, tundra clans, almost without dissent, reckon it highly valuable. Lately, the truth of that assumption has come under question.

You see, fire, while burning, releases invisible spirits into the atmosphere. Because they spring from fire these spirits trap heat, in much the same way hunters trap mammoths with pitfalls. Once the mammoth tumbles into the pit, it cannot hope to escape. And, once the liberated fire spirits trap the sun's heat, that cannot hope to escape, either.

The more fires our clans burn, then, the more fire spirits commence to prowl the air. And, the more fire spirits prowl the air, the more solar heat they snare near the earth's surface. This obviously is a factor - and an increasingly significant factor as the use of fire grows - in the emerging global-warming crisis.

From this, it follows that reducing the fire spirits' footprints as they prowl the atmosphere would correspondingly reduce the amount of trapped solar heat contributing to the warming of the earth. We must use fire less. Those habituated to the savor and chewability of cooked meat may well object to that. So may those who have grown accustomed to sleeping soft in their tents even when snow swirls outside.

Their shortsighted, deluded self-interest must - I repeat: must - be rejected, and in the most emphatic way possible. The environment and its continued protection take priority over all the commonplace concerns. If fire causes the glaciers to retreat; if fire causes the tundra to follow the ice north and causes longtime clan hunting grounds to be overrun with useless, obstructive vegetation pushing up from the south in the wake of global warming; if fire causes the very seas to rise, threatening to displace or drown the clans living in low-lying regions - if fire causes these things, I say, we must suppress it. Cause them it does. Our wizards and shamans no longer leave us any room for doubt. Therefore, suppress it we must.

Let this be a warning, then, to all those so enamored of their temporary comfort that they are willing (perhaps even eager) to cling to fire despite the ever more obvious long-term environmental consequences. If they persist in releasing fire spirits into the air, we shall oppose them with all necessary measures, up to and including war.

And once we vanquish them - and vanquish them we shall, for our cause is just - we will make an example of them, so that we discourage and intimidate potential future backsliders. We will catch them and kill them and eat them.

Raw, of course.

I want to believe

Mr. Gorski was bad enough, but to hear that the greatest newspaper lede in history was a myth?

No! A thousand times, no! Generations of newspapermen have clung to the dream that one day they might write something half as good. I will maintain with my dying breath that the line was genuine.

La la la... I can't hear you...

Note to Paul

I haven't forgotten who won the game on Saturday. I just haven't been able to get everybody in the same room long enough. Hopefully tonight or tomorrow I can make good. Sorry for the delay.

(I may speak Welsh, but I don't do it. Honest.)

This is what's meant by "choice"

Silly girl just didn't understand that the abortionist only had her best interests at heart when he and his assistant held her down, clamped his hand over her mouth to muffle her screams, and aborted her baby against her will.

You know you really want it. You little hussy.

An aberration, you say? Think again. My Lovely and Brilliant Wife used to pray outside an abortuary in San Antonio, and she saw more than one occasion where a teenage girl was literally dragged into the facility, screaming in protest, by the man who drove here there with the help of the clinic employees.

See, sometimes choice isn't enough. Sometimes they have to be forced to accept the choice. For their own good.

This is why abortionists need to stay above the law. So their profits can be kept safe (for them), legal and abundant.

Why reading is important

This poor kid not only made an embarrassing mistake, but now it's all over the Internet. I'm a really cruel person for spreading it further. So be it. If it saves just one teenage boy from the same fate...



For what it's worth, I wouldn't have understood what it was either, at his age.

Akubra tip to SondraK.

DC to Catholic Church: You're our bitch!

You'll violate your most basic moral tenets and like it!

I'm impressed by Wizbang's good sense. He's not a fan of the Catholic Church, and in fact he thinks we're wrong on most of the issues. But he still has a high regard for the First Amendment, which is increasingly being interpreted to mean "everyone but Catholics." [Emphases below mine.]

Critics are denouncing the Church (as is their wont), saying that the Church must be bluffing, that the Church is overreacting, that the Church is being hypocritical because it hasn't made the same threats in other places where gay marriage has passed, and it's all a big to-do about nothing, because the law explicitly says the Church doesn't have to perform gay marriages if it doesn't want to.

They're right on that last point. They're wrong on every single other one.

First up, the Church doesn't bluff. There may be a surface resemblance between the Church's move and the typical move of politicians facing budget cuts -- make the cuts in the most visible, most popular, most needed areas first -- but that's where it ends. The Church does NOT use the poor as hostages for imposing its social agenda.

Next, the Church is not overreacting. While the gay marriage aspect is the most attention-grabbing aspect, it is the other elements that are most offensive to Catholic doctrine -- and most directly threatening to the Church. The Church does NOT sanction or assist in gay marriage, does NOT offer "same-sex benefits" to employees, and does NOT recognize same-sex relationships as equal to opposite-sex ones. Under the proposed law, they would have to yield on each of those points...

The Church has its beliefs. It has its tenets and its principles. It has decided which are the most important ones, and has rediscovered its spine. It has drawn the line in the sand -- society can go to Hell if it wishes, but the Church will not aid and abet in the process.

On this, they will not bend. If that means that they will no longer help in the adoption process in Massachusetts, so be it. If that means they have to completely shut down their charitable works in the District of Columbia, so be it.

And as they've said in the past, if hospitals end up required to perform abortions on demand, they will shut down every single Catholic hospital in the country.

Now that is a bluff we dare not call -- Catholic hospitals represent 12.7% of all hospitals in the United States and 15% of all hospital beds. And the Church clarifies that threat -- they simply won't sell them off, but shut them down and, if necessary, tear them down. They will be morally obliged to make certain those hospitals are never used to perform abortions.

Look, people: the Church has said for years that it will not do certain things. The government says, "You may not provide services unless you do those things," and then feigns surprise when the Church says, "Very well, we accept your conditions and will cease to provide services."

It says something about both Church and state that the Church continues to meet the needs, without gain for itself, of people who despise it. Simply because it loves them. And that the state takes our love so much for granted as to try to force us to obey them with the threat of preventing us.

Hey, feminists! You ain't woman enough to be Sarah Palin

Victor Davis Hanson on why feminists hate the lovely Sarah so furiously:

Her success as an independent female, who was an up-from-the-bootstraps small-town council member, mayor, state regulator and governor, is antithetical to doctrinaire feminism. The latter devolved into a political and grievance-based creed. It is often whiny, and increasingly dominated by single, childless shrill elites. Many try to equate their own unhappiness in matters of family and sex into some sort of cosmic complaint against male patriarchy - as a way of leveraging influence, access, money, and power or simply justifying now regrettable life choices made in their 20’s and 30’s.

Feminism is not about ensuring that Dorothy at K-Mart is not fired because she is female. It is more about an upper-middle-class Dedi Wilson-Reynolds getting to the top of the university food chain, law firm, or government bureaucracy, on the assumption that her gender deserves compensation, in the manner of being non-white or foreign-born or non-Christian.

In such a climate, here comes snazzy, breezy, winking Sarah—happy, good-looking, a mom, and in no need of a rich husband or well-connected dad (in the manner of her critics like a Andrea Mitchell, Sally Quinn, Nancy Pelosi, etc). She inherently exposes feminism as a liberal advocacy movement rather than a bipartisan effort to ensure equal opportunity for women in the workplace and society at large.

Preach it, Victor! Let's face it, Sarah Palin is exactly the kind of woman that feminism purports to produce: capable of thriving alongside men without becoming mannish. Most of her detractors are not capable of that, and so they pretend that it's somehow an undesirable thing. Moreover, she is not grossed out at the idea of being a wife and mother, nor is she rendered subservient by the compromises any married person has to make. Most professional feminists find something demeaning in changing diapers or sharing the housework. In fact, it requires a strength and will that they secretly envy, and once in a while, they'll admit it.

And here's another take on the same phenomenon, using one of my favorite books as an analogy. This is true, too. I've run across intellectual snobbery often enough. And it's nothing more than that. One of the smartest men I ever knew was a high-school dropout who got his education as a Navy SeaBee, at the University of Being-Shot-At-By-Angry-Southeast-Asians. On the other side of the coin, I've known a fair number of people who were (as the great Jerry Clower would have said), "educated far beyond their intelligence." Often enough, a degree is simply a certificate demonstrating that the holder had enough leisure time to pursue it.

Book-larnin' is easy to acquire (besides the hard sciences, that is; those are another matter). But Sarah's knowledge is earned, which is what the chattering classes despise her for. As far as I'm concerned, if you can't change your own oil, you're not smart enough to sneer at Sarah Palin.

Could you describe the ruckus, sir?

Jim at Obscure Store is dead-on: this guy does look like the sort who would throw darts at bar patrons. And defile the parking lot.

What goes on in Florida, anyway? Have they overtaken California as America's weirdo hive?

I needed this

It's been the week from hell at the Greatest Newspaper in the Northwest™ and it's only Wednesday. Nothing unusual; the beginning of the Christmas retail season is always a nightmare. So it's really refreshing to have an actual chuckle to offset the death's head grin that has become my customary expression.

Bring it on!

Here I thought Paul had ignored my challenge, and it turns out his comment disappeared somewhere into the bowels of Haloscan. He writes:
"I accept your challenge, and look forward to finally seeing all your boys... because you'll be the one singing."

With the dismal season my beloved Cougs have been having so far, I'm afraid he may be right.

Hey Spider!

Are you hogging all the brain cells in Tampa, or what?

A perfect story for Veterans' Day

Say what you want about American criminals, some of them still remember that they're Americans:

A Milwaukee Army reservist's military identification earned him some street cred Tuesday, when he says four men who mugged him at gunpoint returned his belongings and thanked him for his service after finding the ID.

The 21-year-old University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee student said he was walking home from work about 1:15 a.m. Tuesday when he was pulled into an alley and told to lay face down and with a gun to his neck. Four men took his wallet, $16, keys, his cell phone and even a PowerBar wrapper from his pants pockets, he said.

But the hostile tone quickly changed when one of the robbers, whom the reservist presumed was the leader, saw an Army ID in the wallet. The robber told the others to return the items and they put most of his belongings on the ground next to him, including the wrapper, the reservist said.

Knock that off, fetuses!

You're just blobs of tissue! You're not supposed to be able to do that! Stop impersonating human beings this minute!

Throwing the Apple Cup gauntlet

My friend Pastor Paul and I are separated by an irreconcilable difference. Not a theological one; that whole Luther business pales in comparison to the real division. And it's not because he was raised on the west side of the state. Why, some of my best friends are Coasties. No, the problem is that Paul, in his benighted wrongheadedness, is a Husky fan. (Spit, curse!)

I issued a challenge to him last year at Apple Cup time, but he begged off, pleading insufficient time. So here it is again, in plenty of time for the November 28 game:

The day after the confrontation between UW and the Holy Cougars, the supporter of the losing team will post video footage on his blog of himself and all male household members performing "I'm a Little Teapot."

There you go, Paul. The challenge is public; the gauntlet is thrown. You have oodles of time to acquire a camera or a cell phone or something. No excuses this year.

Or are ya... chicken?

Sunny day... sweepin' the clouds away...

Sesame Street turns 40 today, as anyone knows who pulled up Google this morning.

I grew up with the show. My kids did too. If my grandson can't sing the theme music to "Elmo's World" by now, I'll be very surprised. It's as much a staple of American childhood as Cap'n Crunch and Tonka trucks.

So here's one of my favorite clips form the show. I'm not sure of the date, but it doesn't really matter. Sesame Street's weirdness was kind of timeless.

Election Day

Okey-dokey. Election day is over and I've done my civic duty. This being Washington, I was tempted to write "Democrat votes inside - do not destroy" on the ballot envelope before it went to Olympia. But since it came from Grant County, I figured nobody would believe me. Maybe it'll get through anyhow.

I'm watching the AP wire to see what Washington results go up today, but because Washington has all-mail voting, it'll be a couple of weeks before everything is certain. The big race in the state was the referendum on the domestic partnership law. Unsurprisingly, it passed overwhelmingly in Seattle and is almost neck-and-neck across the rest of the state. Since the rural counties are likely to be the last to come in, it could still fail.

Yes, I voted for it. Thing is, it's a fair law. There is no reason why the government should be dictating what is and isn't a valid marriage. That's a religious matter. The DP law doesn't force anyone to recognize as a marriage, something that by definition cannot be one. I voted for it even though it benefits mostly people who tried to prevent me from being able to vote.

I tell you three times, if the DP law fails, it'll be because the homo-guerrillas shot themselves in the foot. The same sort of people who are likely to believe in traditional marriage are exactly the sort of people who are unlikely to roll over to threats. Most people don't have any problem with homosexuals in general; as I've said before, a traditional definition of marriage isn't the same as hate. I don't know anyone who would pull the same sort of stunt on a gay person that the gay brownshirts pulled in Massachusetts (see the post below). They justify these things with the canard that we would do it to them if the situation were reversed. And yet, we don't. We leave them alone, and they keep refusing to do the same. You want enemies? Okay, you got 'em.

I signed the petition to get the referendum on the ballot specifically because of sites like whosigned.org and knowthyneighbor.org. I'm a little disappointed that the Supreme Court has blocked the release of the signers' names, partly because the law is the law, and partly because I wanted these assferrets to know how much contempt I hold them in.

So in case any homobigots are reading this, my name is Joel Martin. I'm in Moses Lake, Washington. I signed the petition. My home address is readily available. I don't fear for my job because my employers are too sensible to be bullied. I don't keep a firearm in the house because I have small children, but I'm a pretty good hand with a tire iron and I have no problem with getting bloodstains on your lovely new party frock. Come to town and flop one painted toenail across my property line, and we'll discuss politics over your feeding tube.

Another good idea ruined by gay brownshirts

I was going to vote in favor of the Domestic Partnership law, because, frankly, I think it's fair. It ought to be possible to designate another person, be it a beddy-buddy or just a roommate, as a beneficiary for government purposes without having to designate it as a marriage.

But I'm beginning to think I was wrong. Even if this particular law is reasonable, I don't think there's any doubt that the gay lobby wants to use it as leverage to force the rest of us to bend to their will.

Case in point:

As Peter described the incident [video at link], he came to work on August 10 and began his day normally. A female manager from another store was in the store and began talking to Peter about her upcoming marriage. When Peter asked “where is he taking you for the honeymoon,” she corrected him and said she was not getting married to "he" but to another woman.

Peter did not immediately react, but when the manager sensed Peter’s discomfort with the subject of same-sex “marriage”, the woman apparently continued bringing it up to Peter throughout the day, reiterating that she was getting married to another woman. Finally, after the fourth or fifth time she brought it up, Peter remarked that his Christian beliefs did not accept same-sex marriage. At that point the woman became very angry and bluntly told Peter that he needed to “get over it” and said that she would be immediately contacting the Human Resources department.

A few hours later Peter was notified by a Human Resources representative that he was suspended from work without pay, effective immediately. Two days later, on August 12, after some further interaction with the Human Resources department, he was formally notified that he was terminated from the company.

That is the sort of thing that could very easily happen in the People's Republic of Washington. These people don't want tolerance or equality. They want to enforce approval and forbid dissident thought. The Greek Chorus is very clear on that point.

If it's just going to be used as a vehicle to religious discrimination, then I think I'd better vote against it. I'm not giving up my constitutional rights, especially in order to create a new right for the very people who want to take them away.

Sow, reap, sow, reap...

I'm appalled, disgusted and infuriated at the homecoming dance gang rape in California.What I'm not, alas, is surprised. I don't see why anyone else is either.

This quote in the WaPo has a lot to do with my resigned attitude:

Neil Smelser, a professor emeritus of sociology at the University of California-Berkeley, said Tuesday that the incident could be categorized as "bystander indifference."

"The questions become, 'Why didn't they do something moral to stop an immoral situation? Why didn't they behave morally by calling the police, telling school officials?'" said Smelser, who has written extensively on collective behavior.

Facepalm.

You wanna know why they didn't do something moral, Mister Doctor Sociology Expert? It's because an entire generation has been brought up to instinctively shut off its morality as soon as sex enters the picture. There can be no, repeat no connection between sex and morality. By order of our superiors in the education system and the media.

My generation learned from example that sex, love and children were totally separate things. We were children of divorce and cohabitation, those of us lucky enough not to be aborted at the outset or thrown away by parents trying to "find themselves." We knew there were rules about sex, but we also knew nobody really followed them.

The next generation is even more enlightened. They were never even told that there were rules. They learned that sex is always OK, that it's a personal decision. That there might be moral dilemmas about recycling or wearing fur, but there were none about sex. Anything goes, kids! Just make sure to wear a condom.

Well congratu-frimpin'-lations, social engineers of the sixties. You wanted a sexual revolution? Now you've got one. Nobody stopped those animals because on some level, they understood that animal was a perfectly okay thing to be.

Go tell that poor broken girl how lucky she is to be on the cutting edge of societal evolution. Go tell her that sex is no big deal, that all teenagers do it, that the kids who did this to her were just engaging in a little experimentation. That there is no right and wrong where sex is concerned. That virginity is a joke and marriage is antiquated. That the only sexual commandment is "use contraception."

Go on, tell her. Just like you would your own daughter.

How's this for scary?

I don't know about you, but it creeped me out. And I'm not even a mommy.



More Children's Book Cinema at Something Awful. If you dare.

That and five bucks will get you a plate of lutefisk

They'll be giving Nobel prizes for patty-cake and potty training next.

A couple of cartoons

This one made me think immediately of Wharf Rat, who most emphatically doesn't share my antipathy toward tattoos:




And this one, well, this just sums up our life here at Chez Joel:

What a long strange trip it's been!

Miss C has it right:

Q: How many "deadheads" does it take to change a light bulb?
A: They don't change it. They just wait for it to burn out, and then they follow it around for 30 years.

But she says it like it's a bad thing!

Speaking of creepy

Roman Polanski reviews the new Hannah Montana movie. SFW (except for an ad at the bottom), but you'll want to shower after you read it.

Who is like unto the Obama?

Apparently, it's International Blasphemy Day. (Not to be confused with International Public Urination day or International Wiping-Boogers-On-The-Couch Day.)

So what's the difference between this and this:




Answer: The first is just a bunch of educated-beyond-their-intelligence ass ferrets engaging in the equivalent of third-grade potty humor (Hee hee! Poo-poo-head! Fart on mom!) in hopes of offending a billion or so people who never did them any harm.

Whereas the second is actual blasphemy. Not to mention really, really creepy. You really have to see it to believe it.

A tip of the ol' Akubra to Mark Shea for both. And another A/T to anyone who got the reference in the post title at first glance.

Every time I start to despair for my species...

... I see something like this.

Breaking sports news video. MLB, NFL, NBA, NHL highlights and more.

Badass brethren

Check out the captions here. Some of the ones I liked:

"The main suspects in yesterday's drive-by baptisms."

"Look out! It's the brothers from Our Lady of the Broken Kneecaps."

"What's that, a sissy? You callin' St. Francis a sissy?"

"(not pictured: The Devil pissing his pants)"

"Alright. Let's baptize the shit out of this kid."

And my personal favorite: "Felonious Monks"

Akubra tip to the habit-forming SondraK.

With gratitude and happy taste buds

A few weeks ago when I went to drop off Long Drink with his mother, I stopped off in Goldendale and saw my boyhood friend Alec and met his lovely wife Florame. Last night we finally opened the homemade wine they sent home with me, and this song has been stuck in my head ever since. (I suspect this slightly warped video is from an old VHS tape straight off MTV. Must be 30 years by now, almost. I was fortunate to see the Gordfather play it live in 1992.)




That wine was some of the best stuff I've ever laid lips on. Thanks, guys!

Shoe, meet Other Foot

Looks like a pro-life protester was gunned down in front of a school this morning. No doubt this pro-abort asshat is dancing gleeful little jigs.

Naturally, Murder Inc. had a statement:

Lori Lamerand, president and Chief Executive Officer of Planned Parenthood East Central Michigan, also expressed shock and sadness at the news.

"We want to be very clear that we have no idea if this was related to his views, but Planned Parenthood would never condone any sort of violence against anyone, regardless of their views," said Lamerand.

Yeah, I wish you the same luck we pro-lifers had getting that across.

Meanwhile, we'll see how many liberals hold candlelight vigils for Jim Pouillon. And how many have the honesty and courage to hold pro-aborts responsible for his blood. My guess is that we'll see a rash of articles about how he had it coming, and there's no comparison between the saintly Dr. Tiller and this violent sign-holder.

Yash Skala is still remembered

As part of the 2996 Project, I posted this on the fifth anniversary of 9/11. Go read it, then follow the first link and read the other 2,995 stories. It's still true.

Spirit and exercise

Pastor Paul's mention of working for his father while he looks for a new pulpit brought to mind this scene from Pale Rider. If you gotta wear a collar, you might as well wear it with this kind of style.

Preacher (Clint Eastwood): How about putting me to work?
Hull (Michael Moriarty): No, I couldn't ask you to... Maybe if there was something spiritual...
Preacher: The spirit ain't worth spit without a little exercise.

And then he goes on to prove it. For a man of the cloth, he can pure down swing a hammer. All directions.



I especially like how he helps Richard Kiel back on his horse after it's all over with. Although under the circumstances, I'm not sure putting him on a saddle is an act of mercy.

Wow.

That's all I can say at this point. Just... wow.

I can't wait for the press conference to find out the details.

More Ted Kennedy stuff

Eulogies all over Medialand and its blogospheric outskirts are referring to Ted Kennedy as "the lion of the senate." Patrick's objection notwithstanding, I'm sort of inclined to agree with that assessment. Especially when you consider how encounters between Christians and lions have traditionally turned out.

Okay, that's all the snark I'll come out with. As Christine says, the grave-dancing on some blogs is disgusting. The man's dead, for Gossake! There's nothing to be gained by pointing out his faults now that he's beyond mending them.

Kennedy's funeral mass is happening even as I type. I hadn't thought to wonder about his eligibility for a Catholic funeral (given his support for the slaughter of innocents), but canon lawyer Ed Peters naturally has. He offers some reason for hope.

Still, I feel a little violated that Barack Obama is going to deliver a eulogy at a Catholic church. That's my church. Do I come to his mosque and talk pretty about Salman Rushdie?

(I know, cheap shot. But Obama's still alive, so I'll joke about him all I want. Report me if you like.)

May Ted Kennedy rest in peace

Yes, I do mean that. He wasn't always sold out to the sacrament of abortion, and it may be that he repented of his part in the abortocaust before the end. Or it may be (indeed, probably is) that God's mercy is bigger than I think. In the end (as Terry Mattingly points out:

Only God and his father confessor — if he maintained such a relationship throughout his life — have any right to claim inside information about the state of his soul and neither will be granting interviews today.

My hope is that purgatory was a welcome relief and that Mary Jo Kopechne was there at the gates to greet him. That should be the hope of every Christian. This isn't politics we're talking about now; this is eternity.

Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him.

Yee-haw!

Because it's Fair Week and the rodeo is in town, and because I'm so out of it today, this just seems to sum it all up.

No, but He's supposed to be coming back soon

My friend Patti is married to a Tejano man who's legally named Jesús, but usually calls himself "Jesse" out here in Gringoland. That's pretty common; I know a Venito who's called "Benny" and a Lionel (pronounced Lee-o-NEL) who goes by "Leo." If nothing else, it can draw a line between the people who actually know you and those who have your name on a list.

So Patti takes a phone call this morning from an officious woman who asks, "Is Jee-zus there?"

"He sure is," says Patti. "In my heart, at all times."

Click.

What else could she say?

Virginia Davis travels in elephants

The very first Disney actress has gone to that great Cartoonland in the sky. It's kind of interesting to read about her; I had no idea she was still alive. I thought the name sounded familiar when I saw the obit on the wire. I never saw the Alice cartoons, but I remember her as an unusually good child actress in Three on a Match. (Which I highly recommend, if you can find a copy. Excellent cast, excellent acting, all around impressive early talkie.) I usually hate watching child actors of that time, as they lisp and overplay the cuteness. As I recall, little Virginia didn't do that. She spoke her lines clearly and with some semblance of realistic inflection. Unlike too many child stars, she didn't (a) hang around Hollywood trying to parlay cuteness into an adult career or (b) spend the next several decades consuming various chemicals and turning her brain to orange sherbet. She and Uncle Walt stayed good friends after her career fizzled, despite their disagreement over her taking the lead in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

Here's the third cartoon she made with Disney. I can't watch it at work (kind of hard to disguise it as productivity), but I will when I get home.

Good morning, you lying, racist bastards.

When the wonderful Cassandra starts off a post like that, you know you're in for a treat. Sure enough, A Few Words from Nan Pelosi on Health Care captures the liberal position to a T:

[B]efore we foist an unread bill of historic proportions on the American people, we must conduct a inclusive and robust debate in which only our side is heard. The failure of every single previous attempt to nationalize health care proves the need to exclude unAmerican liars from our national dialogue.

Of course, when I say the facts be heard, I mean "our facts must be heard". And no one can hear our facts when there's too much free speech going on. Too much information confuses people...

Read it all. Unless you're a liberal, in which case, you'll want to avoid it like the plague. Too much information confuses people.

Goodbye to a class act

Eunice Kennedy Shriver travels in elephants. I'll bet the crowds were lined up three deep to greet her at the pearly gates.

She refused to sell out with the rest of her party, when sacrificing the inconvenient became a requirement for being a Democrat. Instead, she left politics behind and cared first for the least of these, with no exceptions. She fought with gracious force to give them dignity and a place of respect in the world that nobody could take away. The world is better for her presence and poorer for her passing.

Rest well, ma'am.

This is a threatening phone call?

Don't make me get all American on your [hiney], now!

Evil, evil earworm

It's not bad enough that I'm shackled to a desk for 14 hours a day this week. No, I've also had this song stuck in my head for the last three days. And as everyone knows, the only way to get rid of an earworm is to share!



Sorry, Internet friends!

Dear John: who's more popular now?

Double points to anyone who recognizes that line.


I'm getting more of a kick out of this because Long Drink and I just went to see these guys do their Beatles tribute show.

H/T to Stephy at Stuff Christian Culture Likes. Protestant readers, you'll enjoy that one even more than I did.

When the astronauts landed

Everybody is into remembering where they were when they heard about the moon landing 40 years ago. I can certainly tell you what I was doing. I was projecting a loathsome substance into a diaper. As I appear to have done with great frequency in 1969.

But here's the recollection of a man who only found out the specifics years after the fact, and didn't have the excuse of infancy. Guys, take off your hat to read it.

Sometimes, reality is cynical

This is only funny to guys who have never been on the other side of it. Unfortunately, there are too many who have.

The more things change, the more they stay the same

Democrats: Still fighting for a whiter America.

I believe!

I don't care what they say. After all, there are those who maintain the whole moon landing was a hoax. Spoilsports.

I want to believe that Neil Armstrong said, "Good luck, Mr. Gorsky."

Bastille Day post

I really don't get into the whole idea of celebrating Bastille Day like others might. I'm not absolutely convinced that the French Revolution was a good thing. I'm a monarchist at heart. I know it wouldn't work well for America, but I tend to think that countries that have kings ought to keep them. And the anti-clericalism of the French Revolution outstripped any long-term benefit, to my mind.

All of which isn't really the point here. Patterico used the occasion to post the greatest scene ever filmed, and I couldn't very well let it go to waste. French, American or anything else, if you can watch this scene without goosebumps, you're probably not the sort of person I want reading my blog anyway.



A bit of trivia on the side: The blonde who sings with tears in her eyes and shouts "Vive la France" at the end of the song? She's the only member of the cast still living Like most of the cast, she was a refugee from the Nazi occupation. When these people sang "La Marseillaise," they meant it.

Happy birthday, Wharf Rat!

My oldest daughter turns 21 on Monday. Let's everybody call her at five in the morning on Tuesday and wish her a loud and cheerful happy birthday!

Ooooh... Barracuda!

Looks like the Lovely Sarah may be going after The One™ in 2012! Let's see who's got the endurance. She's got more balls than any three liberal misogynists.

Y'betcha!

Take me out to the ballgame slaughter

Remember Ross Perot and his "giant sucking sound?" I don't think he meant to be prophetic, but it sure applies to my beloved Moses Lake Pirates this year.

In 2007 we were the league champions. As of now, we're 0-19.

0-19. Do you have any idea how lousy you have to play to get to that point? Joe Shlabotnik would be hard-pressed to suck that badly.

Sunday we have tickets (courtesy of The Greatest Newspaper in the Northwest™) to watch them play Spokane. I sure hope the streak turns around by then. I don't want to expose the kids to the sight of dad sobbing uncontrollably.