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Adventure is worthwhile - Aesop
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
I meant to post this the other day and, well, forgot. But Digger’s Realm has reached the blog milestone of 1,000,000 pageviews. In the blogosphere sites go up and down more than a prostitute on ecstasy, so having the staying power enough to get to a million views is a really noteworthy achievement. Congrats, Digger!
It’s All About Me Me Me
I’ve been claiming since the whole debacle began that Casey Sheehan’s mother had absolutely no real interest in meeting with President Bush. She was looking for a propaganda victory. If he decided to see her again, she could go crazy and rant and scream, and she’d get a huge PR victory in the papers. If he ignored her, then she’d have another propaganda victory. And now that the month of August is over, she admits it.
Bullshit, Cindy. This was never about answers or accountability or getting a meeting with the president. This was about assuaging the massive sense of guilt you feel at not being about to prevent your little boy from growing up and becoming a man, a man who just might have an opinion different than your own. This was about prostituting the memory of the fine, honorable son you raised so that despicable vermin like MoveOn and Michael Moore and Al Sharpton can get their radical left-wing agenda on the front pages, and you could position yourself as some kind of untouchable, sainted martyr.
But then again, it’s always been about you, hasn’t it? That’s why just the other day the Los Angeles Times quoted you as saying, “I know that the Camp Casey movement is going to end the war in Iraq. When you read about the Camp Casey movement in the history books, you can say, ‘I met Casey’s mom.’” There you go, you egomaniacal harpy. It’s about you, it’s always been about you. It’s about your canonization in the annals of left-wing activism, about elevating your status from grieving mother into empowering activist. As I’ve said before, in a sadly perverse way your son’s death was the best thing that ever happened to you, because it gave meaning to your otherwise wretchedly average life.
And your son, and the sacrifice he made? Well, that’s not that important, is it?
I was just sitting here thinking about Cafe Dumond in New Orleans. I can’t remember how many times I’ve sat there at 5am, drunk off my ass, drinking coffee and eating beignets, with Jackson Square on one side and the Mississippi River on the other. It’s probably totally gone by now. For those of you who have never been, I tried to post a link to their website, but it’s totally down. Their server must be hosted in NOLA, too.
This whole thing is just tragic.
If you’re planning on donating money for the relief effort, I recommend Catholic Charities. Go give a couple of bucks. And if you donated money to the tsunami victims, make sure that the amount you give to your countrymen is more. Charity begins at home, and the city of New Orleans has always been good to me.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Let’s hear it for law and order in Oregon!
I think this is a fantastic idea. If the idea is to protect children, then does it really make any difference whether the drugs got into the baby’s system through the teat or through any other method? Hopefully during her 18 month stretch this woman will take advantage of drug counseling, so that when she gets out she can get her child back and raise it in safety.
Rolling Back Murder
Score one more for the good guys with guns.
So, which is better from a societal standpoint? If this happened in the UK, for example, the woman would be dead, and her husband would have gone to jail for it, not much consolation for the family of the deceased. Here in gun-crazy America the woman is alive, the criminal is dead, and everyone goes on with their lives.
Our way is better.
Martial Tucker Band
I’ve been reading up on the latest Hurricane Katrina news, and I found a local New Orleans news website which is running an up to the minute blog of developments. Man, that city is screwed. The levees are breaking.
One other thing I noticed, though, were these two posts.
It’s not “marshall” or “marshal” law, it’s martial, as in “of or pertaining to the military.” You’d think someone working for a news website would know this.
A couple of days ago I wrote a post showing a basic example of how, even in situations where relatively little is known about a subject, many testable hypotheses can be confirmed or refuted. Here’s a real-world example of that same dynamic.
The conventional wisdom holds that equatorial areas are hotter than other areas because there is a greater distribution of solar energy on areas at a more oblique angle to the energy source. We see this on our own planet, for example. However, now we have data which show a hot spot in an area where one should not be. In other words, we’re dealing with an unknown quantity.
What is the best way to explain this unknown quantity? It’s to formulate a hypothesis based upon what we know already. In this case, where there’s heat there has to be some kind of source. What is the source? They admit they don’t know. It could be some kind of geothermal event, or it could be a city full of aliens who all worship the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Or it could be evidence of Intelligent Design, in the sense that the hot spot is there for no other reason than God wants it to be there.
Which is more likely? Which hypothesis seems most likely to you, the one based on what we have seen in the past, or one that someone just makes up out of the thin air?
So, where does America’s has-been racial arsonist go when the young Turk racial arsonist is in Crawford, TX? Why, he goes to Venezuela.
Je$$e Jack$on always manages to find a way to interject himself into any issue, thus giving the appearance that he actually does something constructive and beneficial for the world. In reality he’s consolidating his power base among America’s black community as someone who has the power to (gasp!) meet with foreign leaders, while that ol’ chump Sharpton is just sweating down in Texas with some ol’ Cracker.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Courtesy LGF: Here we see Mother Sheehan, grief-stricken and anguished, pausing for a quiet moment with the Rev. Al Sharpton, while another woman gently touches her face in sympathy.
Touching, isn’t it? How could anyone help but feel sorry for this poor woman and her obviously devastating loss?
Now, call me crazy, but it’s almost like the whole “quiet moment” was actually a well-scripted press event, designed to evoke feelings of sympathy in the viewer while actually being devoid of any legitimate feeling whatsoever.
And do you want to know what’s going through the Good Reverend’s mind? “I can’t believe I done drugged my black ass all the way down here to Texas and all the cameras are pointed at this wrinkly old cracker bitch!”
I just booked a round-trip business class ticket to Australia, and all it cost me was about $45 and 90,000 air miles which I didn’t even know I had. I rock!
Just received this one.
I started making people register to post specifically because the trolling was so bad it was making any kind of regular discussion all but impossible. You know, trolling by people like this asshole, spewing insults written in all caps.
Okay, it’s 3am, and I’ve done a day’s worth of blogging already. I’m going to sleep. See you in the
There are many areas where the British are vastly superior to Americans, and one of them is in their comedy. American comedy is, for the most part, complete shit. I’ve been watching the show Little Britain on BBC America for quite some time now, and it’s honestly one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. And they just released the first season on DVD. Check it out here.
If you’ve never seen the show, trust me, buy this DVD. You will literally piss yourself laughing. Everyone I have ever turned on to this show agrees. You guys know me and you know my sense of humor. Trust me, buy this. I promise you, you won’t regret it.
This is the standard that all TV comedy should be judged by, and American TV falls far, far short. It’s brilliant.
This is why I respect Israel.
Conversely, Kofi Annan is still doing his thing at the United Nations, and Yasser Arafat somehow managed to die a multi-billionaire, despite never actually doing anything to earn it in his entire life.
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