Monday, February 28, 2005
Feel the - dare I say it - HO-MENTUM!
Via Americablog, the Guckert story seems to be gaining steam; here's a story in the Philly Inquirer.
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Via Americablog, the Guckert story seems to be gaining steam; here's a story in the Philly Inquirer.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
I'm not going to sit here and listen to you badmouth the United States of America!
It's local news blogging night for me.
A little background: The Myrtle Beach Downtown Redevelopment Corporation (RDC) is a corporation created by the Myrtle Beach City Council to redevelop and "revitalize" downtown Myrtle Beach.
Recently the RDC got a lot of unflattering local coverage. The RDC had a engaged a "master developer" from California to come up with a grand scheme for redeveloping the Pavilion, a beachfront amusement park. The dude presented his plan some months ago; it was a monstrosity involving high rise condos with a roller coaster snaking around them and - get this - upscale retail shops, like Saks. Yeah. Because who doesn't want to pick up several pairs of Jimmy Choos and some Calvin Klein and then go hop on a coaster? But I digress.
The unflattering coverage came after it became apparent that the master developer was, to put it nicely, a big phony. He submitted references purportedly from the likes of Goldman Sachs, references that came via Hotmail and Yahoo accounts. And the RDC bought it! This came to light only after one of the RDC members, who had entered into a side deal(undisclosed to the public) with the master developer to develop a time share project, started complaining that the md wasn't coming across with the money for the side deal. In a variation on the old "check's in the mail" line the md once sent a check for $125.00 - it was supposed to be for $125,000.00 - and then claimed his wife got the amount wrong. As I recollect the md also claimed variously that FedEx had lost his checks, that a local bank had refused a wire from his California bank, etc, etc. The RDC board member started telling people the md wasn't the big player he claimed to be.
None of this - the failure to adequately check the md's background, the dopey acceptance of letters of reference from Hotmail and Yahoo email accounts, the side deal with a board member (if I'm not mistaken, the very board member who had recommended the md) - reflected favorably on the RDC. Since all this came out, Myrtle Beach's gadfly mayor (and former GOP senatorial candidate) Mark McBride, who has been at odds with the City Council since long before the md entered the picture, has been gleefully hammering the RDC and the City Council.
Council member Chuck Martino struck back on Tuesday night in a particularly classy way. At the Tuesday night Council meeting, he launched into a personal attack on the mayor, causing McBride's young son to leave the Council meeting in tears. From the Myrtle Beach Sun News:
Martino had a good reason for his attack: It was to teach McBride a lesson:
Yesterday, Martino defended himself in a superbly pious opinion piece published in The Sun News:
By the time I reached the end of that masterpiece of sanctimony I wanted to stand up and salute the American flag, but I was laughing too hard. It reminded me of Otter's speech in Animal House:
In all seriousness, I know all too well the price of freedom, for my late grandfather (moment of silence) fought valiantly in a foreign war so that politicians like Martino might invoke the memories of their retired-colonel fathers in self-righteous editorials attacking other politicians.
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It's local news blogging night for me.
A little background: The Myrtle Beach Downtown Redevelopment Corporation (RDC) is a corporation created by the Myrtle Beach City Council to redevelop and "revitalize" downtown Myrtle Beach.
Recently the RDC got a lot of unflattering local coverage. The RDC had a engaged a "master developer" from California to come up with a grand scheme for redeveloping the Pavilion, a beachfront amusement park. The dude presented his plan some months ago; it was a monstrosity involving high rise condos with a roller coaster snaking around them and - get this - upscale retail shops, like Saks. Yeah. Because who doesn't want to pick up several pairs of Jimmy Choos and some Calvin Klein and then go hop on a coaster? But I digress.
The unflattering coverage came after it became apparent that the master developer was, to put it nicely, a big phony. He submitted references purportedly from the likes of Goldman Sachs, references that came via Hotmail and Yahoo accounts. And the RDC bought it! This came to light only after one of the RDC members, who had entered into a side deal(undisclosed to the public) with the master developer to develop a time share project, started complaining that the md wasn't coming across with the money for the side deal. In a variation on the old "check's in the mail" line the md once sent a check for $125.00 - it was supposed to be for $125,000.00 - and then claimed his wife got the amount wrong. As I recollect the md also claimed variously that FedEx had lost his checks, that a local bank had refused a wire from his California bank, etc, etc. The RDC board member started telling people the md wasn't the big player he claimed to be.
None of this - the failure to adequately check the md's background, the dopey acceptance of letters of reference from Hotmail and Yahoo email accounts, the side deal with a board member (if I'm not mistaken, the very board member who had recommended the md) - reflected favorably on the RDC. Since all this came out, Myrtle Beach's gadfly mayor (and former GOP senatorial candidate) Mark McBride, who has been at odds with the City Council since long before the md entered the picture, has been gleefully hammering the RDC and the City Council.
Council member Chuck Martino struck back on Tuesday night in a particularly classy way. At the Tuesday night Council meeting, he launched into a personal attack on the mayor, causing McBride's young son to leave the Council meeting in tears. From the Myrtle Beach Sun News:
Martino also questioned McBride's character, citing seven lawsuits of tax liens related to McBride's failed restaurant, Crabman's Seafood.
Martino also attacked McBride on a personal level, saying that after the mayor's failed U.S. Senate bid and failed business ventures, McBride said that God abandoned him and that his family would be better off with him dead.
McBride's son Struthers left the meeting in tears as Martino described those incidents, and McBride left the meeting to comfort his son.
"I'm going to walk outside with my ninth [grader]," McBride said as he got up from his seat.
Martino had a good reason for his attack: It was to teach McBride a lesson:
Martino said he presented information about McBride's personal life to show how the accusations of fraud have affected the DRC board members and their families. He introduced each board member to the public Tuesday, "to put a face on the alleged criminals of fraud so you know exactly who it is that's being accused."
Yesterday, Martino defended himself in a superbly pious opinion piece published in The Sun News:
I do not fault the mayor or anyone for wanting information, but to bear false witness against others and refuse to explain, or show or resolve, before they have the facts or proof is disruptive, self-serving, mean and harmful, not truthful and not the teachings of the God he says gives him advice in how to run the city.
I also believe in the same God, and my teachings tell me he is a God of love and charity, not the God of fear and damnation.
I will apologize publicly to the mayor when he apologizes to the many for his manners and methods. I will defend his right to his beliefs and his right to free speech, but I will no longer sit idly by and watch him attack people and not issues, nor watch him attack families instead of policies. If there is wrong, and it can be determined, the mayor knows in his heart I will join him in correcting it, but I will not publicly flog individuals for it.
There is a right and a wrong way to do things, and the wrong way has gone on for too long. Now that the volley was returned, it has repulsed and offended some, and truly myself, as I took no joy, nor pleasure, nor comfort. It was a duty I felt compelled to do when I see social injustice, no matter the personal misfortune it lays at my feet.
I encourage all to request civility of all leaders and to first attempt to resolve [issues] before [making] attacks. It's no different in my eye than an aggressive attack against a nation by one with no reason and no attempt at diplomacy.
I further ask all media outlets not to print, record or distribute statements from elected officials without the facts and support. I believe a large, major network learned that lesson during a recent presidential campaign. Why should it go on in Myrtle Beach?
The bottom line: Many have fought to provide those freedoms that have been abused, and I know that price as a son of a retired colonel of the Air Force who fought in two foreign wars, and to his memory, I will not sit by and watch the freedoms afforded us all, not just the mayor, abused by someone in an election-year ploy to win sympathy and votes at the expense of destroying the image of the city and it residents.
By the time I reached the end of that masterpiece of sanctimony I wanted to stand up and salute the American flag, but I was laughing too hard. It reminded me of Otter's speech in Animal House:
Otter: Ladies and gentlemen, I'll be brief. The issue here is not whether we broke a few rules, or took a few liberties with our female party guests - we did.
[winks at Dean Wormer]
But you can't hold a whole fraternity responsible for the behavior of a few, sick twisted individuals. For if you do, then shouldn't we blame the whole fraternity system? And if the whole fraternity system is guilty, then isn't this an indictment of our educational institutions in general? I put it to you, Greg - isn't this an indictment of our entire American society? Well, you can do whatever you want to us, but we're not going to sit here and listen to you badmouth the United States of America. Gentlemen!
In all seriousness, I know all too well the price of freedom, for my late grandfather (moment of silence) fought valiantly in a foreign war so that politicians like Martino might invoke the memories of their retired-colonel fathers in self-righteous editorials attacking other politicians.
Not cool
I was a little surprised to learn, via a Brad Warthen editorial in The State, that the blogger for the South Carolina group pushing for what it calls "putting parents in charge" and what I call "taking money away from public schools and giving it to middle class and rich people" is as snarky and juvenile as, well, me.
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I was a little surprised to learn, via a Brad Warthen editorial in The State, that the blogger for the South Carolina group pushing for what it calls "putting parents in charge" and what I call "taking money away from public schools and giving it to middle class and rich people" is as snarky and juvenile as, well, me.
MANY, IF NOT most, folks who find Gov. Mark Sanford’s proposal to give tax credits for private school tuition appealing are well-meaning, in my experience. What little they’ve heard about it sounds good enough that they’re for it, without actually being against anyone or anything.
Not so with South Carolinians for Responsible Government, the obliquely named group that is the main South Carolina expression of the national movement pushing “school choice.” Like its e-mails, the blog on the SCRG Web site is salted generously with the “guerrilla tactics” approach of the group’s founder.
For example: On Jan. 28, the weblog referred to Inez Tenenbaum as “Frau Tenenbaum.”
Here’s the context: “Despite all the lies that are being told to the contrary, Milwaukeeans love their school choice plan. (And why not? It increases graduation rates and student achievement. Let’s see Frau Tenenbaum do that!)”
At least, that’s what it used to say. If you look today at http://scresponsiblegov.org/content.asp?catID=8093, it will say (unless it was changed since Friday) “Frau* Madame Tenenbaum,” with the “Frau” marked through with a line. The asterisk leads you to a footnote that says: “For reasons that aren’t clear, Mrs. Tenenbaum didn’t like our use of the German word for ‘Mrs.’ Although we don’t usually yield to the bullying of would-be censors, as a courtesy to Mrs. Tenenbaum, we’ve decided to go with the French.”
But why use a German honorific to begin with? Or a French one? It was just “something different to put on there,” SCRG spokesman Denver Merrill told me Friday. “There was really no other thought put into it. It’s a blog.... It’s edgier.”
Indeed. Much of the material on the blog is a mix of scorn, petulance and outright hostility toward those who defend public education from SCRG’s agenda.
This approach doesn’t seem to be winning over many converts, based on the bill’s lukewarm reception thus far in the Legislature.
It has, however, succeeded in drawing strong responses. Mrs. Tenenbaum’s husband, who is Jewish and mindful of the history of the 20th century, hit the roof over the “Frau” reference. And as he told me, it was he who objected to the reference, not his wife. (To disclose, Samuel Tenenbaum has been a friend ever since we participated in a Catholic-Jewish dialogue group years ago.)
He didn’t object to SCRG. He complained to the governor’s press secretary, Will Folks. He wasn’t the only one. Prominent Columbia attorney Steve Morrison wrote to Mr. Folks as follows (he attributes the misspellings to having hastily thumbed the message out on his Blackberry):
“The folks at scresponsiblegov.org have crossed the line of ordinary human decency in calling Superintendent Tennenbaum ‘Frau Tennenbaum’. This monicker contains the specter of German attrocities, raises the shadow of Nazi totalanarianism.... The term ‘Frau’ is not funny or cute in this context.... Thank you for your urgent attention. Steve”
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Congratulations!
To Perranoski Prize winner NTodd, whose DohiyiMir won in the best photo blog category.
Alpha male Velociman apparently made a strong showing for the Don Drysdale award but was denied the top prize by what I believe were voting irregularities . . .
Check out the other winners at American Street.
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To Perranoski Prize winner NTodd, whose DohiyiMir won in the best photo blog category.
Alpha male Velociman apparently made a strong showing for the Don Drysdale award but was denied the top prize by what I believe were voting irregularities . . .
Check out the other winners at American Street.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Salman Rushdie issues baseball batwah against fellow writer
Oh, yes. According to New York Magazine, Rushdie (of ALL people . . .) threatened a fellow writer with grievous bodily harm after the writer mildy dissed Rushdie's wife:
Of course I don't know how seriously to take the gossip section of New York Magazine.
Here's the shy and retiring Ms. Lakshmi. I know, I thought the same thing: How did this cow land that total hottie, Salman Rushdie?
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Oh, yes. According to New York Magazine, Rushdie (of ALL people . . .) threatened a fellow writer with grievous bodily harm after the writer mildy dissed Rushdie's wife:
On February 8, Guy Trebay wrote about Salman Rushdie’s wife, Padma Lakshmi, in the Times. In the “Hindu pantheon,” he observed, “Lakshmi is the domestic deity representing wealth and the embodiment of beauty, grace, and charm . . . In the current fashion pantheon, Ms. Lakshmi similarly stands for a love of money and commodity. A burgeoning brand married to a global brand, she has no problem making public an inventory of brands she chooses to wear.” Understandably, her husband was not amused. Witnesses say Rushdie walked up to Trebay at a National Arts Club event three days later and said, “If you ever write mean things about my wife again, I’ll come after you with a baseball bat.” Shaken, Trebay, who was on his way out, left.
Of course I don't know how seriously to take the gossip section of New York Magazine.
Here's the shy and retiring Ms. Lakshmi. I know, I thought the same thing: How did this cow land that total hottie, Salman Rushdie?
OK, semi-serious time is over
It's time for fun with Queen George.
Have fun with the George-says-it site. Here's mine:
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It's time for fun with Queen George.
Have fun with the George-says-it site. Here's mine:
Reporter admits pervasive anti-Clinton bias in media!
In his latest Newsweek column, Jonathan Alter complains that Judith Iraq-war-enabler Miller and Matt Cooper may face jail time for refusing to reveal who in the Bush administration leaked Valerie Plame's name. This targeting of the press, Mr. Alter frets, will adversely affect the public's ability to get "real news." I agree. Because, by God, if freedom of the press means anything, it means the freedom to dutifully assist the executive branch of government in its attempts to intimidate and silence its critics, and to protect the intimidators from scrutiny by the judicial branch.
Alter worries about the consequences to the "broader American public" if reporters face judicial consequences for failing to reveal their sources: We "may be entering an era where our news consists of press releases, spin and nothing much that the government does not want us to know." Of course, what he's defending is not some brave government source exposing government wrongdoing, at risk to the source's job: No, Alter's defending journalists who are protecting government sources who leaked information designed to harm a man who called attention to misleading statements made by the president.
Of course, as Mr. Alter notes, in this instance it was Robert Novakula who was the government tool - Miller and Cooper never wrote anything based on the information that was leaked to them. After mentioning that he's friends with Miller and Cooper, Mr. Alter observes that the "coziness of Washington" prevents Novakula's CNN colleagues from asking Novak about his role in the Plame leak (and the subsequent investigation). In other words, Mr. Alter acknowledges that his media colleagues are more concerned about staying cozy than pursuing a story that's right under their goddamn noses. That being the case, why on earth does Alter expect anyone to take seriously his argument that jailing Miller and Cooper will have a chilling effect on the press? The press has long been effectively self-chilled by its widespread institutional laziness, groupthink, and fear of alienating the right.
As Mr. Alter himself notes: "If this were the Clinton era, we'd be treated to constant speculation about whether it was Sidney Blumenthal or Harold Ickes or maybe the Clintons themselves (!) who had committed this dastardly deed." No shit, Mr. Alter, and no one other than you and your colleagues is responsible for your own failure to subject this administration to anything near that kind of scrutiny.
Update: This is kinda funny: Contrast what Alter was saying in October, 2003 with his current column. I guess his position has evolved since his friends became implicated.
Alter, October 2003:
Alter, February 2005:
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In his latest Newsweek column, Jonathan Alter complains that Judith Iraq-war-enabler Miller and Matt Cooper may face jail time for refusing to reveal who in the Bush administration leaked Valerie Plame's name. This targeting of the press, Mr. Alter frets, will adversely affect the public's ability to get "real news." I agree. Because, by God, if freedom of the press means anything, it means the freedom to dutifully assist the executive branch of government in its attempts to intimidate and silence its critics, and to protect the intimidators from scrutiny by the judicial branch.
Alter worries about the consequences to the "broader American public" if reporters face judicial consequences for failing to reveal their sources: We "may be entering an era where our news consists of press releases, spin and nothing much that the government does not want us to know." Of course, what he's defending is not some brave government source exposing government wrongdoing, at risk to the source's job: No, Alter's defending journalists who are protecting government sources who leaked information designed to harm a man who called attention to misleading statements made by the president.
Of course, as Mr. Alter notes, in this instance it was Robert Novakula who was the government tool - Miller and Cooper never wrote anything based on the information that was leaked to them. After mentioning that he's friends with Miller and Cooper, Mr. Alter observes that the "coziness of Washington" prevents Novakula's CNN colleagues from asking Novak about his role in the Plame leak (and the subsequent investigation). In other words, Mr. Alter acknowledges that his media colleagues are more concerned about staying cozy than pursuing a story that's right under their goddamn noses. That being the case, why on earth does Alter expect anyone to take seriously his argument that jailing Miller and Cooper will have a chilling effect on the press? The press has long been effectively self-chilled by its widespread institutional laziness, groupthink, and fear of alienating the right.
As Mr. Alter himself notes: "If this were the Clinton era, we'd be treated to constant speculation about whether it was Sidney Blumenthal or Harold Ickes or maybe the Clintons themselves (!) who had committed this dastardly deed." No shit, Mr. Alter, and no one other than you and your colleagues is responsible for your own failure to subject this administration to anything near that kind of scrutiny.
Update: This is kinda funny: Contrast what Alter was saying in October, 2003 with his current column. I guess his position has evolved since his friends became implicated.
Alter, October 2003:
The knee-jerk reaction of most reporters is that leaking the name of the Wilson leaker would harm the efforts of all journalists dealing with all confidential sources in Washington. This fear is unwarranted. Sources don’t leak to do us favors, but for a complicated series of other reasons that are often out of self-interest. They always have and they always will. The whole game of reporters and their confidential sources has gone so far in Washington that too many of us have forgotten our first obligation. It’s not to the Oliver Norths of the world and the reporters protecting them. It’s to readers and viewers and, yes, to the truth.
Alter, February 2005:
But while lawyers, clergy, psychiatrists and, under a recent Supreme Court decision, social workers can protect confidentiality before federal grand juries, journalists cannot.
This is scary stuff.
Columbia protects citizens from homeless legless hubcap cleaner
From The State newspaper:
Yeah, he's a menacing dude:
(photo by Sean Rayford for The State)
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From The State newspaper:
By John Monk
Albert Witherspoon of Columbia has no legs.
He has no home.
But Witherspoon — who lives, eats and sleeps out of a beat-up wheelchair — does have a police citation that could cost him $762.50 if he is found guilty of violating a city ordinance that requires a person to have a license to operate a business.
Witherspoon’s “business”?
Cleaning car hubcaps in the Five Points shopping area to get money.
“I like to work for my money. I don’t like to get no dern handouts,” said Witherspoon, 41, from whose wheelchair hang a spray bottle and a cloth to clean hubcaps.
*******
Dennis Hiltner, president of the Five Points Association and owner of that area’s Gourmet Shop, said Witherspoon is part of a widespread problem affecting merchants and customers alike. Area homeless seeking money frighten shoppers and make them uncomfortable, he said.
“They are bad for business,” Hiltner said, adding Witherspoon’s offers to clean people’s hubcaps for money are intimidating to some people.
Yeah, he's a menacing dude:
(photo by Sean Rayford for The State)
Sunday, February 20, 2005
"You need to see new nipples."
Now here's a creative approach to sexual harassment:
(The Gorilla Foundation denies the allegations)
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Now here's a creative approach to sexual harassment:
By MAY WONG Associated Press writer
WOODSIDE, Calif. Feb 19, 2005 — Two fired caretakers for Koko, the world-famous sign-language-speaking gorilla, have sued their former bosses, claiming they were pressured to expose their breasts as a way of bonding with the 300-pound simian.
Nancy Alperin and Kendra Keller, both of San Francisco, claim they were subjected to sexual discrimination and then wrongfully terminated after reporting health and safety violations at Koko's home in Woodside, an upscale town in the south San Francisco Bay area.
The lawsuit against the Gorilla Foundation and its president, Francine "Penny" Patterson, the longtime trainer of the well-known gorilla, was filed this week in San Mateo County Superior Court. It seeks damages totaling more than $1 million.
*****
The suit claims Patterson pressured the two women on several occasions to expose their breasts to Koko, a 33-year-old female sometimes in situations where other employees could potentially view their bodies. The women never undressed, said their attorney, Stephen Sommers of San Francisco.
They were threatened that if they "did not indulge Koko's nipple fetish, their employment with the Gorilla Foundation would suffer," the lawsuit alleged.
The lawsuit claims that on one occasion Patterson said, "'Koko, you see my nipples all the time. You are probably bored with my nipples. You need to see new nipples.'"
(The Gorilla Foundation denies the allegations)
Schlonggate*
Look, the reason I haven't been blogging much lately is because I've been real busy with outcalls, if you know what I mean. Plus I've been laughing my head off at Urinategate (WARNING: Don't click on that link if you're at work, or eating lunch, etc), which gets funnier every day.
I can't even pretend to be outraged. Why would I be? I am totally pro-gay and pro-prostitute, straight or gay, male or female, and pro-posting-pictures-of-yourself-on-the-Internet-with-a-big-stiffy. Live and let live, is what I say. Whatever floats your boat. etc. Frankly, I think we need MORE gay prostitute journalists in the White House - Bush obviously isn't getting blown enough now. I mean, look how pissed off he looks all the time.
Speaking of pissed off, go here** and read John Buttrocket, Esquire's enraged response to an emailer. Bejus, that Buttrocket is one angry rich white dude. Imagine how wrathful he'd be if his side had LOST the election.
*Schlonggate" coined by ABCKaren, who hasn't been blogging much lately as she has been recovering from surgery to correct her mermaid syndrome.
**Minnpolitics link via Atrios
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Look, the reason I haven't been blogging much lately is because I've been real busy with outcalls, if you know what I mean. Plus I've been laughing my head off at Urinategate (WARNING: Don't click on that link if you're at work, or eating lunch, etc), which gets funnier every day.
I can't even pretend to be outraged. Why would I be? I am totally pro-gay and pro-prostitute, straight or gay, male or female, and pro-posting-pictures-of-yourself-on-the-Internet-with-a-big-stiffy. Live and let live, is what I say. Whatever floats your boat. etc. Frankly, I think we need MORE gay prostitute journalists in the White House - Bush obviously isn't getting blown enough now. I mean, look how pissed off he looks all the time.
Speaking of pissed off, go here** and read John Buttrocket, Esquire's enraged response to an emailer. Bejus, that Buttrocket is one angry rich white dude. Imagine how wrathful he'd be if his side had LOST the election.
*Schlonggate" coined by ABCKaren, who hasn't been blogging much lately as she has been recovering from surgery to correct her mermaid syndrome.
**Minnpolitics link via Atrios
Sunday catblogging
I was going to put these pics in the body of the post, but I couldn't figure out how to shrink them to a manageable size.
So, here's TC, the fng.
And here's Rocky, giving TC the evil eye.
They're much cuter in person . . .
For you camera buffs, those pictures were taken with a disposable Polaroid flash camera from Walgreen's. I know, I'm no NTodd.
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I was going to put these pics in the body of the post, but I couldn't figure out how to shrink them to a manageable size.
So, here's TC, the fng.
And here's Rocky, giving TC the evil eye.
They're much cuter in person . . .
For you camera buffs, those pictures were taken with a disposable Polaroid flash camera from Walgreen's. I know, I'm no NTodd.
Happy Anniversary to MEEEEEE . . .
Hey, I just realized this blog is a year old. Wow, what a crazy ride it's been. In just one short year, my readership has increased exponentially, going from two to four. It's been exhausting, this once-a-week blogging, but exhilarating. I owe it all to you, readers. I love you all! All four of you!
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Hey, I just realized this blog is a year old. Wow, what a crazy ride it's been. In just one short year, my readership has increased exponentially, going from two to four. It's been exhausting, this once-a-week blogging, but exhilarating. I owe it all to you, readers. I love you all! All four of you!
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
The lovely and talented Anntichrist
S. Coulter is a finalist in Wampum blog's Koufax Awards! Congratulations, Annti! Everyone, please go vote for her here as soon as Wampum gets its site back online . . .
Since yours truly didn't make the finals for "Most Deserving of Wider Recognition" (BASTARDS!), I encourage you to vote for NTodd's DoyihiMir, which is what I'm going to do. As soon as Wampum comes back online.
I will also add Wampum to the illustrious RoguePlanet blogroll, as soon as it (Wampum) comes back online . . .
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S. Coulter is a finalist in Wampum blog's Koufax Awards! Congratulations, Annti! Everyone, please go vote for her here as soon as Wampum gets its site back online . . .
Since yours truly didn't make the finals for "Most Deserving of Wider Recognition" (BASTARDS!), I encourage you to vote for NTodd's DoyihiMir, which is what I'm going to do. As soon as Wampum comes back online.
I will also add Wampum to the illustrious RoguePlanet blogroll, as soon as it (Wampum) comes back online . . .
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Steroids didn't make him a woman-beater - he comes by that naturally
I just saw Jose Canseco's interview on 60 Minutes. The beefy baseball cheat could barely suppress a smirk as Mike Wallace read off the list of his many arrests, a couple for beating up women. I don't remember the exchange verbatim and couldn't find a transcript online, but when Wallace asked if the steroids could have contributed to his violent behavior, Canseco's response was something like, "Are we to blame steroids every time somebody loses his temper?" In other words, the 'roids didn't make him beat up on women. He's a woman-beater by temperament.
Canseco kept sniffing and wiggling his nose throughout the interview, making me wonder if he wrote his book 'cause he needs money to support another wicked drug habit. Nasal spray, perhaps.
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I just saw Jose Canseco's interview on 60 Minutes. The beefy baseball cheat could barely suppress a smirk as Mike Wallace read off the list of his many arrests, a couple for beating up women. I don't remember the exchange verbatim and couldn't find a transcript online, but when Wallace asked if the steroids could have contributed to his violent behavior, Canseco's response was something like, "Are we to blame steroids every time somebody loses his temper?" In other words, the 'roids didn't make him beat up on women. He's a woman-beater by temperament.
Canseco kept sniffing and wiggling his nose throughout the interview, making me wonder if he wrote his book 'cause he needs money to support another wicked drug habit. Nasal spray, perhaps.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Just call him angel of the morning
You know what sucks about blogging? You go and post something from the heart, an unabashed, delightfully un-cynical account of meeting your IDOL and getting drunk with him and passing out with your head on his lap, and then all these other bloggers respond with drearily predictable scorn, laughing derisively and pointing at you. I hate that.
Via Alicublog, we learn about Michael J. Totten's wine-soaked evening with Christopher Hitchens. Mr. Totten used to be a card-carrying member of "the left," until 9/11 changed everything, and now he's a righteous hawk.
When Michael's gentle blue eyes met and held Christopher's bleary, bloodshot gaze, a profound connection was born. The men did not need to speak of it, this thing they felt. But it was always present between them, transcending the heavily accented blathering of their irritating Iraqi drinking companions who did not fully appreciate the precious gift of freedom that Michael and Christopher had bestowed upon the Iraqi people. As their tablemates jabbered, Michael and Christopher looked knowingly at one another. They spoke of deeper things.
While Christopher and Michael spoke passionately of their ideals, the mood of their tablemates darkened. One Iraqi in particular seemed to smolder with swarthy resentment. Suddenly he exploded, venting his uncouth third-world rage at the civilized, debonair Christopher:
Atiyyah shook Michael off like a jogger shaking an angry fox terrier off his calf.
Things deteriorated rapidly. Eventually, mercifully, one of the Westerners pacified the angry Iraqis with soothing words. Then the men resumed eating and drinking and smoking talking and laughing and making fart noises with their armpits. Michael knew the Arabs to be an essentially friendly lot, albeit quick to anger, like Dobermans, but the Arabs' rage was equally quick to subside on those occasions when they didn't strap bombs to their waists and blow themselves up during their time of wrath. With patience, gentleness, and training, they make delightful, loyal pets, although Michael knew you didn't want to turn your back on them.
Anyway. After much talking and eating and drinking and smoking and drinking and laughing and fart noises, all the Iraqis save one drifted away to their hotel rooms. Five men were left, including Michael and Christopher. There was a silence. Christopher looked at his watch, focusing his eyes only with difficulty. "Gotta run!" he exclaimed. Michael couldn't bear it.
"Sorry," Christopher said, rising. He staggered a bit and grabbed the edge of the table to steady himself. "I must rise with the dawn and all that. Fight the good fight on CNN."
"I'm buying," Michael said. Christopher sat back down with alacrity and signaled the waiter.
More wine was drunk, more cigarettes smoked. The conversation turned to Saddam Hussein - Saddam, the evil one, who was himself a weapon of mass destruction. The lone Iraqi left at the table, the good one, expressed a wish that Saddam might die at the hands of Iraq's liberators.
Christopher, ever the contrarian, demurred. Michael explained how Saddam is worse than Ted Bundy, because nobody's chopping off heads in Ted Bundy's name (I didn't think any heads were being chopped off in Saddam's name, either, but I'm sure Michael's right - if we off Saddam, the insurgents will simply give up, stop chopping off heads, and go away).
Too bad Michael was too drunk to remember how 200 American soldiers already wasted Saddamn's sons and grandson, or he could have used that for a comeback to Hitchens, maybe followed by an around-the-world snap. But that would have broken the spell.
The evening drew to a close. Michael wrote his email address on a cocktail napkin. "Email me," he begged.
There was some talk of blogs. Christopher said he didn't peruse them. Michael told Christopher how freedom-hating Juan Cole, he of The Left, was chastised and rebuked by an scores of angry freedom-loving bloggers after Cole made scandalous remarks about some brave, good, Iraqi bloggers who support America's liberation of Iraq. His voice rising with excitement, Michael recounted how the entire blogosphere bravely and courageously piled on "the little weasel" Cole, as Christopher called him.
"My God," Christopher breathed. "If only I'd known that when I faced Cole. I would have SO kicked his ass!" Christopher gazed at Michael with something new in his eyes - gratitude for introducing him to this thrilling new world, this blogosphere, and respect. And something else . . .
"Angel," Christopher said. "Can I call you Angel?"
"Of course," Michael responded, rapturously.
That was a week ago. And now Christopher never writes, he never calls . . .
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You know what sucks about blogging? You go and post something from the heart, an unabashed, delightfully un-cynical account of meeting your IDOL and getting drunk with him and passing out with your head on his lap, and then all these other bloggers respond with drearily predictable scorn, laughing derisively and pointing at you. I hate that.
Via Alicublog, we learn about Michael J. Totten's wine-soaked evening with Christopher Hitchens. Mr. Totten used to be a card-carrying member of "the left," until 9/11 changed everything, and now he's a righteous hawk.
When Michael's gentle blue eyes met and held Christopher's bleary, bloodshot gaze, a profound connection was born. The men did not need to speak of it, this thing they felt. But it was always present between them, transcending the heavily accented blathering of their irritating Iraqi drinking companions who did not fully appreciate the precious gift of freedom that Michael and Christopher had bestowed upon the Iraqi people. As their tablemates jabbered, Michael and Christopher looked knowingly at one another. They spoke of deeper things.
What a treat it is to talk politics and shop with Christopher Hitchens. When I yak about politics with most people we can’t get past fundamentals. But if Hitchens says “Kurdistan” or “Kissinger” I know exactly what he means and where he’s coming from. He needs say no more. We’re instantly on the same page on multiple levels all at once. We can talk about the finer points without getting bogged down in spats about imperialism, pacifism, and Bush.
While Christopher and Michael spoke passionately of their ideals, the mood of their tablemates darkened. One Iraqi in particular seemed to smolder with swarthy resentment. Suddenly he exploded, venting his uncouth third-world rage at the civilized, debonair Christopher:
Christopher Hitchens said to Ghassan Atiyyah: “If the Iraqis were to elect either a Sunni or Shia Taliban, we would not let them take power.” And of course he was right. We didn’t invade Iraq so we could midwife the birth of yet another despicable tyranny. “One man, one vote, one time” isn’t anything remotely like a democracy.
But Atiyyah would have none of that. He exploded in furious rage. “So you’re my colonial master now, eh?!” You have to understand – this man’s voice really carries.
Suddenly, Atiyyah did have defenders at the table. I could see that coming in the shocked expressions on the faces of the other Iraqis when they heard what Hitchens said. Ahman al Rikaby, intriguingly, was an exception. He just looked at Atiyyah with a cold and sober stoicism. But Hitchens had a defender, too. He had me.
“I agree with Christopher,” I said. “We didn’t invade Iraq to let it turn into another Iran.”
Atiyyah shook Michael off like a jogger shaking an angry fox terrier off his calf.
"Who the hell are you?” Atiyyah said to Hitchens as if I weren’t the last one to speak. “Some Brit who lives in New York!”
Things deteriorated rapidly. Eventually, mercifully, one of the Westerners pacified the angry Iraqis with soothing words. Then the men resumed eating and drinking and smoking talking and laughing and making fart noises with their armpits. Michael knew the Arabs to be an essentially friendly lot, albeit quick to anger, like Dobermans, but the Arabs' rage was equally quick to subside on those occasions when they didn't strap bombs to their waists and blow themselves up during their time of wrath. With patience, gentleness, and training, they make delightful, loyal pets, although Michael knew you didn't want to turn your back on them.
Anyway. After much talking and eating and drinking and smoking and drinking and laughing and fart noises, all the Iraqis save one drifted away to their hotel rooms. Five men were left, including Michael and Christopher. There was a silence. Christopher looked at his watch, focusing his eyes only with difficulty. "Gotta run!" he exclaimed. Michael couldn't bear it.
“Oh, come on, Christopher,” I said. “You’re the one who’s supposed to keep us up all night.”
"Sorry," Christopher said, rising. He staggered a bit and grabbed the edge of the table to steady himself. "I must rise with the dawn and all that. Fight the good fight on CNN."
"I'm buying," Michael said. Christopher sat back down with alacrity and signaled the waiter.
More wine was drunk, more cigarettes smoked. The conversation turned to Saddam Hussein - Saddam, the evil one, who was himself a weapon of mass destruction. The lone Iraqi left at the table, the good one, expressed a wish that Saddam might die at the hands of Iraq's liberators.
Ahman al-Rikaby mentioned capital punishment. “I’m against it,” he said. “But at least for the next few months I will hope we execute Saddam Hussein.”
“Here’s to that,” I said.
Christopher, ever the contrarian, demurred. Michael explained how Saddam is worse than Ted Bundy, because nobody's chopping off heads in Ted Bundy's name (I didn't think any heads were being chopped off in Saddam's name, either, but I'm sure Michael's right - if we off Saddam, the insurgents will simply give up, stop chopping off heads, and go away).
"When the Bolsheviks seized power in Russia,” Hitchens said, “they murdered the czar, his wife, and his children…so there would be no going back. Are you sure that’s what you want?"
I sighed. It was a hell of a point, and I was too drunk to come up with a response.
Too bad Michael was too drunk to remember how 200 American soldiers already wasted Saddamn's sons and grandson, or he could have used that for a comeback to Hitchens, maybe followed by an around-the-world snap. But that would have broken the spell.
The evening drew to a close. Michael wrote his email address on a cocktail napkin. "Email me," he begged.
There was some talk of blogs. Christopher said he didn't peruse them. Michael told Christopher how freedom-hating Juan Cole, he of The Left, was chastised and rebuked by an scores of angry freedom-loving bloggers after Cole made scandalous remarks about some brave, good, Iraqi bloggers who support America's liberation of Iraq. His voice rising with excitement, Michael recounted how the entire blogosphere bravely and courageously piled on "the little weasel" Cole, as Christopher called him.
"My God," Christopher breathed. "If only I'd known that when I faced Cole. I would have SO kicked his ass!" Christopher gazed at Michael with something new in his eyes - gratitude for introducing him to this thrilling new world, this blogosphere, and respect. And something else . . .
"Angel," Christopher said. "Can I call you Angel?"
"Of course," Michael responded, rapturously.
That was a week ago. And now Christopher never writes, he never calls . . .
Monday, February 07, 2005
| |Sunday, February 06, 2005
Letter to the editor
Of the Sun News:
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Of the Sun News:
Our values, what we have left, are seriously stretched. Un-American, anti-administration protesters - I'll bet none of them has served the country - humiliated the majority of citizens, humiliated our president and desecrated our flag.
Some men and women of our military, the guards at the Abu Ghraib prison, are prosecuted by their superiors, persecuted by [Sen. Edward] Kennedy, [D-Mass.], and criminalized for nothing more than humiliating a fanatical and barbarous enemy who are rewarded for murdering infidels, beheadings, suicide bombings and kidnappings.
It's serious business to send a man to prison; this cheapens it. These protesters hide behind the bulwark of free speech but have done everything to lose it.
Can you imagine these [protesters], in want of more descriptive language, standing by and allowing their flag to be burned - unconscionable.
Free speech must be curtailed.
New to the illustrious Rogue Planet blogroll
Check out Public Domain Progress, a South Carolina blog I discovered while exploring the "states" tab at American Street.
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Check out Public Domain Progress, a South Carolina blog I discovered while exploring the "states" tab at American Street.
A note to my global readership
If you haven't already done so, go straight over to Wampum Blog and vote for our own Anntichrist S. Coulter for "best commenter."
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If you haven't already done so, go straight over to Wampum Blog and vote for our own Anntichrist S. Coulter for "best commenter."
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Damn, Santorum was right!
First Canada allows gay marriage, now this:
(link courtesy of MD)
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First Canada allows gay marriage, now this:
February 1, 2005
KAMLOOPS, B.C. (CP) -- A man caught trying to have sex with a dog told police he did it because he had been wrongfully convicted of sexually abusing a child and wanted to do something bad if he was going to jail.
Christopher Pye pleaded guilty last month to bestiality. He was also convicted in provincial court last year of sexual assault on a nine-year-old girl.
Judge William Sundhu reserved his decision Tuesday on Pye's sentence on both matters until Feb. 28.
Pye was arrested after two people reported seeing a man trying to have sex with a dog in a van last July.
At least three times the witnesses saw Pye, his jeans around his ankles, try to manipulate the yelping dog into position.
Twice the dog, a friend's pet, ran away. Both times Pye chased the animal down and returned it to the van.
(link courtesy of MD)
What happened to Mars?
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