Update: I swear, if either one of those two says one more insulting thing about monkeys, I'll scream!
Update 2: Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.
Update 3: So, how do you suggest we pay for THAT?
Update 4: Hmmm. I see.
Update 5: Yes, but what about the other side of this whole matter? Speak to that, if you don't mind.
Update 6: Apparently that's all. Well, that was good fun for the night. Can't wait for the next one.
Final Thoughts: I don't know about you, but - from what I saw tonight - I think we can safely say:
Dewey in a landslide!I also just noticed that my posts, quite possibly the most cogent analysis of the debate to be found on the web, have not been included by Zomby in his morning round-up. The nerve!
Update: Ooh, good point, President Bush.
Update 2: Hmm, John, I never really looked at it that way.
Update 3: Say, nice tan, orange man.
Update 4: Interesting. Very interesting.
Update 5: Well, I guess we know where you stand on THAT one!
Update 6: My beer is empty. What will you do about that?
Update 7: Spot on.
Update 8: Now that's what I'm talkin' about!
Update 9: I'm not quite sure I agree with that particular statement.
Update 10: This is so informative. This is great.
Update 11: Crikey, I'm full of shit.
First, it's days like today that make me glad I'm an atheist. If I wasn't, I'd be too busy hating and cursing God and his "fabulous" design to do anything constructive.
Second, it's days like today that remind me that we all too often forget to focus on what is important in life. We take for granted everything we have and everything we love, comforted in the knowledge that it will all be there tomorrow, just the way we left it.
Until it isn't.
O mighty, mighty Fat Tire, I beseech thee to use thy liquid magic to smooth over this latest bump on the highway of my years.
Update: Don't worry about me - everything with me is fine. A friend of mine, however, isn't so lucky, and it got me to thinking. Cloud, silver lining, yada yada.
I have no idea what she just won an award for, but I'd be willing to make a few rude guesses. I really need to watch more television it would seem.
OK, when my darling lil' equity began to pull back, I went ahead and took profits at $46.50. I opened my position at $28 several months ago, so that's $18.50/share that I made. I still like the company (it's gone back up $2 since I closed my position), so for those interested, the name is Biosite (BSTE).
I trade with Ameritrade, and a nice feature they just added is called Trade Triggers. You can set one up such that when an equity or index meets a certain criteria, you're either notified by e-mail or a trade can be executed on your behalf. So, I just had it set to sell at market when the "Last" was $46.50 to protect me from too much of a pullback. The nice thing about Trade Triggers is that it will work much the same as a stop or limit order, but since I don't care much about ten cents movement here or there, I just set a market order and pay the lower trading fee.
Of course, now I'll sit back and frown as the stock rockets to $72 by lunchtime.
And as for being a political stooge, unlike the bloggies, I don't give money to politicians...Clever, now we're "bloggies." Hey, dipshit, how about do us the respect of calling us by the name we generally prefer - "bloggers."
Hee hee, if we can get that, we're one up on those damned geeky "Trekkies!"
As for not giving money to politicians... well, then can I call you an "idiot." You see, as a journalist, you're allowed to have opinions, thoughts, and desires. You're even allowed to express them as a private citizen with your own funds. However, when your job comes along, then you play by the rules (hard as you folks find it to do). Really, most of us can separate our personal and professional lives - why do journalists find it so difficult?
Do bloggers have the credentials of real journalists? No.Uh, nor did they ever claim to have the same credentials. They only claim to fact-check your self-righteous, blowhard, and credentialed asses.
Bloggers are hobby hacks, the Internet version of the sad loners who used to listen to police radios in their bachelor apartments and think they were involved in the world.Except that, unlike scanner hobbyists, bloggers have a nasty tendency to change the landscape, be it Trent Lott's racist idiocy or Dan Rather's partisan bullshit. Crikey but you're a fearful, jealous idiot.
Bloggers don't know about anything that happened before they sat down to share their every thought with the moon.Because we live in a vacuum and know nothing at all, you see. We can't possibly observe the mainstream media. We can't possibly be on-site at important events. Damn, does Instapundit know that he is but a moon with some hundreds of thousands of moons orbiting him on a daily basis? If not, he should. And he ought to be fucking proud of the fact.
I wonder how many people bother to read Nick Coleman* (you know, aside from when we bloggers in our pajamas, briefly distracted from talking to the moon, link to his sorry ass).
We are not dealing with journalism, people. We are dealing with Internet chat rooms: sleazy and unreliable, with no accountability.No, deep-throat-my-mainstream-fuck-buddies, our accountability lies in the same thing that makes us powerful: speed, information, and wide-ranging expertise. You know, the things that once-upon-a-long-ago were considered the domain of mainstream media. The things upon which your pride rested, but which they rather (heh, get it? Probably not.), now teeter.
Blogs may not break a story, but we'll sure as heck blow holes in your story to hell and back. I'm sorry this makes you cry. Boo hoo Media Baby Jeebus.
Most bloggers are not fit to carry a reporter's notebook.Most would not want to, given that recently they are full of leftist lies. OK, fine, send a copy on over to Atrios, but even he'd want a little wiggle room on what he can chuck in the recycle bin. Yes, it's that bad!
That's the job of journalism -- to scrutinize the actions of those in power.Errmmm...what about those aspiring to power? You see, that attitude is what let the fake Bush memos get their start as the TruthTM. None is so foolish as he who will not learn. If that's not a Chinese proverb, it damn sure ought to be.
So, how is it that nakedly partisan bloggers who make things up left and right are gaining street cred while the mainstream media, which spend a lot of time criticizing themselves, are under attack?Food for thought, lil' Nicky, food for thought. When you have the answer, maybe we'll give you a pat on the head and a lil' lollipop for your troubles.
Update: Steve says I'm angry. Nah, don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry. Especially because me little pants get all kinds of revealing when I HulkTM out. OK, so some of you might like me angry.
Update 2: Fat Tire seems to give me the incredible ability to string together rants that, while full of holes you could push Michael Moore through, still seem to make an elegant sort of sense. Neat.
Update 3: While you're here, you really ought to check out the rest of the blog. It's full of ranty goodness (as well as a fair bit of crap, the odd bit of cheesecake, and assorted rambling). Just be sure to read the fine print.
Update 4: Remember, bloggers are not journalists. Except when they are. Bill continues to impress.
Update 5: Lynn says:
Bloggers are just people talking. Ever since the day the first newspaper came out people have been sitting around the breakfast table talking about how full of crap journalists are. The only difference now is that there are millions of people sitting around the same breakfast table together talking about how full of crap journalists are and we're making enough noise that some of the journalists are finally starting to hear what is being said about them.And they don't much like what they're hearing I imagine.
Steve Green is asking "who are these people?" when it comes to undecided voters in the upcoming Presidential election. I'd say I'm one of them, but my decision right now is pretty much one of "wow, they both suck harder than Paris Hilton in her third 'secret, unauthorized sex tape,' set for production in a New York City hotel room in February 2005."
In response, GQ breaks out Jon Stewart to help "those people" in this time of great decision with some election-year advice.
Also of interest, on the cover and in the pages they have Lindsay Lohan (for the next month anyway, so click fast).
Now, I suppose I could have used a photo of Steve Green, Jon Stewart, or even the presidential candidates instead of one of Lindsay, but I didn't. Mostly because a picture of Steve Green, Jon Stewart, George Bush, or John Kerry striking that pose in a clingy tank-top would just, to twist a sea-faring pirate phrase, wither me timbers.
And I suppose some people might think this indicates a decline in the quality of the blog, or perhaps is indicative of the imminent demise of Western Civilization, but - truth be told - really all it means is that I like hot women.
As Zomby would say:
I like to think of it as extra-tuitous.Don't worry, this will never be a blog you have to hide under you bed so your mom won't find it. Unless it looks like that it would make me rich to go in that direction...
Phone conversation, one cube over, 2:51pm:
They were pretty hard. Did they give him suppositories?Uh...
Bloggers and web users are being urged to email messages of support to imprisoned Iranian bloggers, detained for contributing to news website Rouydad...Follow the link to find out more.
The bloggers are protesting against censorship on the Emrooz, Rouydad and Baamdad websites, all of which support Iran's main political reform party.
Tonight is Mrs. World Wide Rant's 32nd birthday, so we dropped the wee Fiona off at the sitter's and had a nice meal out (and we even got the obligatory towering slice of ice cream cake for free, and without having the waitstaff sing a cheesy-ass song to us to shame us for wanting something free). Now we're back home, the lil' lass Fiona is drifting off to sleepyland, and we're going to retire for the evening once I have the wife's surprise all set up.
You know, it's amazing what you can do with magic markers, Elmer's glue, colored felt, and body parts.
At least that's what I hear. As for us, we're not freaky-deeky or anything, so it'll just be a nice, romantic evening.
May you and your significant others enjoy some quality time as well. If you don't have a significant other, rumor has it that the internet is full-to-the-brim with porn.
Again, so I hear.
Hmmm, if I was conducting a poll about whether or not the nonsense that is Creationism should be taught alongside the science that is evolution, I'd probably try to include some folks like science teachers, scientists, or even theologians for that matter.
The Lawrence (Kansas) Journal-World felt that a high-school junior, grocery stocker, bowling alley clerk, and brick layer's assistant would be better resources.
Remember, folks, these are people who choose to live in Kansas*.
* Which is not to say that Kansas doesn't have a purpose. Sadly, that purpose seems to be to make the drive across the mid-United-States some 4 hours longer and more dull than it needs to be.
I would say those teeth marks are closer to the Achilles' heel myself.
The Republican Party acknowledged yesterday sending mass mailings to residents of two states warning that "liberals" seek to ban the Bible. It said the mailings were part of its effort to mobilize religious voters for President Bush.I'm not sure what's worse: that the Republican party would stoop to such despicable tactics, or that their right-wing religious base might actually believe such crap.
The mailings include images of the Bible labeled "banned" and of a gay marriage proposal labeled "allowed." A mailing to Arkansas residents warns: "This will be Arkansas if you don't vote." A similar mailing was sent to West Virginians...
In an e-mail message, Christine Iverson, a spokeswoman for the Republican National Committee, confirmed that the party had sent the mailings.
(found via A VC)
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Some of you might recall the other day when I asked:
Although getting a vicious illness would certainly just top things off, wouldn't it?It would appear that the gods have a connection to me via dial-up, because that illness just hit me at 5pm this afternoon, long after I thought I was in the clear.
So, I'm going to spend the rest of the night familiarizing myself with the intricate nooks and crannies of a white ceramic bowl. I've already taken the time to regret the bacon cheeseburger and two diet cokes from lunch, as well as the four beers I had during the football game. Gatorade is my friend as of right now.
Hope your weekend is going better than mine!
Update: Alive and slowly getting well, thanks for asking. I highly recommend you, if given the opportunity, take a pass on whatever it is I just went through.
Yeah, my thoughts too.
Oh well, there's always next week against South Carolina.
Ain't it crazy?
Warning: Personal ramblings follow. You may want to skip.
Gimme gimme more more more »
Why, just today I've been told by a blogging "nemesis" that I'm a good guy who will have his cosmic karma adjusted some by my showing humanity to a stranger... and have also been told, so it would seem*, by someone I once considered a friend for life, that I have questionable character and a sucky blog.
How odd. However, given my net loss playing the lottery to date, I should probably buy a ticket on the way home.
I'm reminded of lyrics from the song "Caledonia," by Scottish folk singer Dougie MacLean, with whom I once shared a pint in the village of Dunkeld, not that that has anything to do with the lyrics, but one should never miss a chance to share a brush with celebrity, no matter how modest, because it'll make you think I'm really cool, even though this run-on sentence is probably undoing it, huh?
Anyway, the lyrics:
I have moved and kept on movingSort of an interpersonal Circle of Life, but without Elton John in an ugly-ass blue tracksuit.
Proved the points that I needed proving
Lost the friends that I needed losing
Found others on the way
So, enough with the personal exposition-type post. I'm not even drunk!**
More of the blogging you've come to love*** later on...
* Hard to say when someone hides behind a bogus name and e-mail address. I think a new commenting policy might be in order.
** Yet. But the weekend is nigh.
*** Or hate. So long as I make you think, then I am fulfilling the mission handed down to me in a dream by Jesus (or was it Marty Feldman? you know how nebulous memories of dreams can be).
« That's plenty, thanks!
Pay Pal doesn't seem to like the content over at Bill Quick's Daily Pundit. First guess from many is that it is because he linked to a video of terrorists beheading one of their innocent victims. Now, if the name of his site was "Allahu Akbar! Fight the Infidel! Kill! Kill! Kill! Pundit," I could see where there might be a problem - but what's the harm in reminding the world that terrorists are murdering assholes?
Some people will say that they don't need to see a video to get the impact of these savage crimes. If you've seen one previously, then I would be inclined to agree.
If you've never before seen such a heinous act, however, then such a statement reads more like:
"I don't need to have sexual intercourse, because I already masturbate."Sure, they're similar, but one is a tiny bit more potent to the psyche.
All of the above really is of no importance, though, because my guess is that PayPal disapproves of the complete lack of monkey photos at Bill's site. You'll notice I have a monkey - a damn cute, Earth-crushing one at that - and PayPal has left me alone.
Something you'll never hear a Democrat say:
"Well, so be it. Nothing's perfect in life, so you have an election that's not quite perfect. Is it better than not having an election? You bet."That's Donald Rumsfeld doing the talking. No, not about Florida this November, dumbass. About Iraq.
Expect Michael Moore's next film to be about the oppression of the terrorist voting bloc in Iraqi politics. And Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Mmmm, doughnuts.
Actually, doughnuts sound pretty good right about now.
You know, this could have just been a misguided attempt at adding an exciting new product to their existing line of "rich and creamy cheesecakes, moist pound cake, and fruit laden pies."
Update: For those with a broken IronyMeterTM, the joke here is that the headline on the original article was bad. Bad bad. Bad bad bad. It wasn't a juxtaposition of "Sara Lee" and "murdered" - or "Sara Lee" and "killed" - rather, the word choice linked "Sara Lee" and "frozen." Sorry, but I think right now some journalist is snickering about that headline getting past their editor.
CAMP HABBANIYAH, Iraq — To Sgt. Dale Rogers of Company C, 1st Battalion, 503rd Infantry Regiment, the near beer that soldiers sometimes get in Kuwait and Iraq tastes like something drained through a wet sock.Both Steve and the article then go on to propose this site as the answer.
Now, this strikes me as a case of the road to Hell being paved with good intentions.
I've looked through numerous photos on the beerforsoldiers.com site and they seem to primarily be drinking Budweiser, Bud Light, and Corona. I'm at a loss to explain how this is any different than "tastes like something drained through a wet sock," except that you might be compelled to add "which was previously urinated on by a very angry monkey with gender identity issues."
To their credit, there did appear to be one of our brave defenders of freedom with a Guinness in his hand. While I'd normally congratulate someone for not running with the crowd, this is akin to patting someone on the back for not jumping off the bridge when everybody else did.
Just say no!*
Now, someone start the site GoodBeerForSoldiers.Com and I'll be pimping it somethin' serious.
* Honestly, though, a huge thanks to our armed forces for all they do, even if they have highly questionable taste in beer.
One final thought before I leave you good people for the evening.
Despite my incessant ranting about airlines, airports, and security in a post below, I would like to say (with a straight face even) that San Antonio's airport, at least on this day, had the most professional, thorough, and courteous-beyond-compare TSA employees I've ever had the pleasure to remove my shoes for.
I was shocked. Pleasantly. Not so much a tingling in any special places, mind you, but just general happiness with their performance.
I'm definitely a power user.
Or, perhaps "junkie" is more accurate.
Jesus came to redeem a fallen Man, so the story goes, but what happens when it's Jesus doin' the fallin'?
ROME -- A woman was killed Wednesday when a nearly 7-foot-tall metal crucifix fell on her head in a small town in southern Italy, police said.* This would be quite funny if the metal in question was iron. Sadly, the article doesn't say. Italian reporting is sooo lacking.
"Clouds piled like fluffy mashed potatoes on an earthenware plate." - Andy, United Flight 1259
I'm back from San Antonio. What a day. Having learned my lesson on Monday that it pays to get to the airport in plenty of time for your flight, I was in the check-in line for my 2:45 flight by 12:20pm. That's when I noticed the updated schedule showing my flight was delayed until 4:15.
Which then became 4:45. And then 5:00. And then 5:15. And finally around 5:33, we were rolling down the runway.
Arrived in Denver to find that my little girl and my big girl both have picked up a particularly nasty stomach bug and have been enjoying its pleasures for the better part of the day. Lordy, I hope I don't get it as I have a lot to do to close out the week.
Although getting a vicious illness would certainly just top things off, wouldn't it?
It gets harder and harder to do.
Yup, and we atheists are the irrational ones. Righty-ho.
Hey, if you're one of the nineteen people on Earth who do not yet have a Gmail account and would like one, let me know, as I have a few invites.
That is all.
Or "How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Flying."
Right there on the ticket stub thing it says "arrive at least one hour prior to flight departure," just to be sure you actually make your flight. Sage advice, that - even more sage had it read "arrive at least three hours prior."
Cutting to the ACME-rocket-pack-beep-beep-uh-oh-crash*, I arrive at Denver International Airport some 90 minutes before my flight. Seeing a long line outside at the skycap check-in, I figured it would be faster to go inside to say hello and slap my suitcase on the big metal bird that frightens the natives with its shining wings of death.
"Aha!" I say, spying a row of express check-in lines. "Oh no!" I say, seeing that while they might be quicky express check-in lines, there's nary an airline representative that might be able to actually complete the process, weighing/approving my suitcase, and giving me the all-clear for boarding my way to bee-yoo-tee-ful San Antonio, Tejas.
So I decide that, since they didn't see fit to staff those lines, surely they must expect me to stand in this longer line over here (look to your left). So I do. And so does Benjamin "Got the Jimmy Legs" Smythe**, a colleague of mine who wandered into the airport about the same time.
We stand in line, slowly drifting our way through the line much like a homeless drunkard last remembers being on the 16th Street Mall and then wakes up face down in the South Platte River. How did they get there? Who knows? It was... so... slow.
Anyway, slowly, ever so slowly, we made our way to the front of the line -- actually, about three people short of the front of the line, we take note of a sign saying "we cannot accept checked baggage less than 45 minutes from your flight's departure time."
I check my watch. Jimmy Legs checks his. It's 10:03am. Hey, hey, so long as we get to the front of the line and check in sometime in the next four minutes, we are a-ok!
Hey, hey, it's 10:10am. We're at the counter. Our flight leaves at 10:51am. You do the math.***
We're told we can get on the plane, but our bags can't. After contemplating the social faux pas that would be wearing the same outfit on 3 days of a conference, we decide that won't work.
OK, we'll wait for the next flight.
It's oversold, but they might be able to get us on.
And the one after that?
Even more oversold.
Let us pause for a moment - let us consider that phrase (and, yes, 'twas the phrase of the counter agent - "even more oversold.") So, it's not simply a case of, oops, we - due to the limitations of technology - accidentally oversold the flight by a seat or two.
No, no, my friend, this is a case of "we purposely oversold this flight because, statistically speaking, we expect a certain number of people to be screwed by our other shitty operations and thus they won't make this flight, freeing up seats for the people who are now begging us for one because of our stupid ass lines."
Did I mention this was United Airlines? I probably should, because they're goin' bankrupt. You, the reader, are left to wonder why.
And as you wonder, let us also contemplate this. Take a moment and think back to the various airline terror attacks of the last three or so years. September 11. Richard Reid, aka "the shoe bomber." The Chechen women blowing up flights from Moscow a couple of weeks ago. Notice a trend? That's right - in each case, the terrorist was more than willing to die for the cause, to travel with their luggage.
This whole "link every passenger to a bag" is only going to catch the most half-hearted of terrorists, those who would plant a bomb and run. That would be fine and dandilicious if the evidence indicated that our enemy was a bunch of wusses; but, sadly, the evidence indicates that THE ENEMY IS FUCKING NUTS AND THEY DON'T MIND BLOWING THEMSELVES UP WITH THEIR FANCY JORDACHE SUITCASE, YOU TSA IDIOTS WITH YOUR STUPID POLICIES.
With a wink and a smile, Jimmy Legs and I sought out the security line. We quickly identified it as the one that wound through some eight zig-zag lines and then spiraled out of control, its tail flipping around all the way to the baggage claim zone. We took our place at the end of the line and waited patiently. And waited. And waited. Until, once again drifting, some forty minutes later we were awakened by the ID checker person telling us where to go.
I had my choice of lines. I chose a short one. Jimmy Legs had no choice and was shunted off to a line on the end of the world. I blew through security in little to no time, with merely a glance at me shoes and a poke at me laptop. Once I had me smellies back on me feet, I popped up me head and looked for Jimmy Legs.
Nary a sign.
Oh, there he is. Way back in line. Way back in the "You've Been Flagged for the Super-Secret Anal Probe Gonna Make You Walk Crooked And You Shore Got a Purty Mouth, Boy" line.
I could understand this if Jimmy Legs' real name was Mohammed Osama bin Hussein (it isn't). Or if perhaps he had a criminal record in 14 states and had most recently been seen on some FOX special (he wasn't).
The only crime this man had against him was having a rather uncanny likeness to David Duchovny, except fair-haired. I suppose his fictional ties to the FBI and their superydupery X-goodness were his downfall.
I should add at this point that they had also flagged AN ELDERLY, CLEARLY BLIND WOMAN IN A WHEELCHAIR for the same treatment. Perhaps you remember Mohammad Atta, one of the 9/11 hijackers, as being shorter than the others due to his Little Rascal he used to get around the airport. And apparently the hijacking should have taken place a little sooner, but - being blind - he spent ten minutes trying to break into the lavatory instead of the cockpit. Zany terrorist antics!
My point, despite the general appearance that I might not have one, is that TSA security screening accomplishes two things:
Yes, that's right, it could be a while.
So, anyway, long story, Gary Coleman - we get put on Standby for the next flight, our last best chance for making it to San Antonio in time for our conference. We trek off to a bar for a beverage and some food. I had the cheese fries. They failed to mention it was the "processed jalapeno cheese" fries.
Slap some flailing robotic arms on my hiney, 'cause in 12 hours that bad boy would be screaming "Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!"
Time passed, as it is wont to do, and before we knew it, it was time for the flight we might or might not make depending on the fickle minds of ye gods of olde. The flight boarded. All sections. There were still some ten people sitting around the boarding area. And then, hark, the herald gate agent sang:
"Yes, yes, 'tis I!" I cried. "Have you news of positive weight for me, fair agent of the gate?"
"Indeed, sir, I do," he replied in kind. "Thou art on this flight!"
"And, oh yeah, you have the dubious honor of being the one person the other nine people in the boarding area now officially hate for taking the seat they think should have been theirs."
I was momentarily moved and paused to reflect on the misfortunes of my fellow travelers. But it passed. Too bad, so sad. I boarded yonder plane.
And finally, at long last, despite the best efforts of United Airlines, Denver International Airport, and the TSA, I arrived in San Antonio.
Where you can't even get a good draught beer, but that's a story for another time.
I give up.
* That's Road Runner / Wile E. Coyote talk for "chase."
** Not his real name. Not even close.
*** If you can't do the math, it's 41 minutes.
Busy day full of meetings, meetings, meetings, and surprisingly good food. Look for a diatribe on airport lines, airport security, and the ridiculous concept that is the TSA sometime tonight or tomorrow, depending on my time and how much beer there is to be had.
Not that I love beer more than you good people.
Unless, of course, I do.
I'm here. Been a long day. Suffice it to say that United Airlines largely sucks (and they're going belly up? Gosh, whodathunkit?), DIA's new "anti-Chechen-suicide-bomber-woman" security is a joke - but one so long that you forget the punchline, and flying standby sucks.
Sucks, I tell you!
So, anyway, I finally got in around 4pm local time, when to a company mixer, then out for dinner and drinks with some of my team. Now off to bed, after I catch up on the blogworld, its news, and its rightful gloating over CBS News having to admit its mistakes on national television.
Viva la blogosphere!
Yup, nothing funnier than a good old kill-a-fag joke courtesy of Jimmy "I have sinned...against you!" Swaggart.
"I've never seen a man in my life I wanted to marry. And I'm gonna be blunt and plain...if one ever looks at me like that, I'm gonna kill him and tell God he died."Lying for the Lord, and being a gay-hating prick - it's only too bad we don't live in a universe where Karma would dictate a very large steel pole finding itself jammed right up Swaggart's ass.
Goodness, one wonders how anyone could ever think that right-wing Christian fundamentalists are a source of evil in the world.
Update: I'd like to take back everything I said above, because Swaggart has apologized:
On Wednesday, Swaggart said he has jokingly used the expression "killing someone and telling God he died" thousands of times, about all sorts of people. He said the expression is figurative and not meant to harm.Remember, folks: saying you're sorry means you never have to change.
"It's a humorous statement that doesn't mean anything. You can't lie to God -- it's ridiculous," Swaggart told The Associated Press. "If it's an insult, I certainly didn't think it was, but if they are offended, then I certainly offer an apology."
It's the "United States Army," not the "United States One Giant Tea Party, And Who Brought the S'Mores?"
Monica has more thoughts here.
Now, that little clarification aside, some interesting points are raised in the first link:
One thing that's very important is to make sure that we keep up the morale of our troopswriting letters, sending necessities they need--deodorant, soup, food, candy The minute you lose [morale], boy these guys are going to get hurt. [You] have to support out troops. Their lives are on the line. I want them to come home to a country that considers them heroes.Some of us already do, Mrs. Niederer.
Some of us already do.
Blogging might be, should be, probably will be light through Wednesday evening as I am off to San Antonio on business. Worry not, though, as I shall spend every waking moment thinking of you beautiful people.
At least the really hot ones among you.
In the meantime, plenty of reading to be done off on the blogroll to the right. Go crazy nutty.
'Cause that's about all you get when riding the coattails of the blogosphere.
(ok, so Charles just posted this clarification from the PR firm in question, but - honestly - didn't their first statement read like a credit-hogging, glory-stealing nyeh nyeh nyeh?)
Frequent visitors, and perhaps those who have unfortunately found themselves here on particular multiple days because of a web search, have probably seen a little game I like to call Blogspot Bingo. With it, I plug a random word that pops into my mind into the URL "x.blogspot.com" - where "x" is the random word. It's amusing the sad, pitiful, and scary things you'll find that way.
Thus, I figured - after a couple of beers - that I might find some sad, pitiful, or scary things doing the same with Google News.
2000 block of Penile Road. A person reported being robbed about 10:31 p.m. Aug. 29.
Uh, folks who are complaining about this, Kerry's little woman is spot on with her advice. Let them eat cake? Screw the cake and give me the water.
Teresa Heinz Kerry, encouraging volunteers as they busily packed supplies Wednesday for hurricane relief efforts in the Caribbean, said she was concerned the effort was too focused on sending clothes instead of essentials like water and electric generators.I can live for quite a long time in unkempt and damaged clothes. Take away my water, or have me drink fouled water, for more than a week or so, and I'm likely to be dying.
"Clothing is wonderful, but let them go naked for a while, at least the kids," said Heinz Kerry, the wife of Democratic presidential candidate John Kerry (news - web sites). "Water is necessary, and then generators, and then food, and then clothes."
Granted, her delivery could have used a little polishing. However, there comes a point where partisan bullshit, be it from the left or the right, is simply - well - bullshit.
And they call Michael Jackson an unfit parent?
The mother of the boy accusing Michael Jackson of sex abuse told police she was chosen by God to bring the pop star to "justice", it emerged today.Uh, you know, the world is full of child molesters, but I'm not going to offer up the wee Fiona as bait to catch them. The world is full of rapists, but you won't see my wife in a police sting to bust them. The world is full of animal abusing wankers, but my Eddie, Sydney, Mog, and Newcastle can sleep safe in the knowledge that they won't be sacrificial dogs (and cats, as the case may be).
On a police tape, obtained by a US television show the woman is heard saying: "God hand-picked me and the kids because he knew that we weren't going to fall for any of their money."
Lady, you're freakin' nuts.
I'd been meaning to blog about this, post some photos, etc. previously, but today was the first opportunity I had to stop by the Healing Field that, until September 19, is located in Northglenn, Colorado.
Spread out over three areas of the EB Rains Park are thousands upon thousands of flags, one each for each innocent murdered in the September 11 attacks and one each for those coalition soldiers who have served with honor, and made the ultimate sacrifice, in the war that continues to this day.
"This field continues to grow so that the 9/11 field does not."
Of course, if you're one of those extremist kooks who hate America, or who don't see the irony in voting for a Communist party candidate, or who think that vandalism and anarchy are convincing tools for social change, well, then you're a dipshit and we shouldn't bother ourselves with you any more than I already have. Let's move on.
Those of us who support the war see the ugly price that is being paid to defeat terror where it hides. Those of you against it will see a visual demonstration of the high cost of a misguided endeavor. We'll both see a reminder that they were real people - sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, lovers and friends to someone somewhere - that the effect is so much more than one life taken, but numerous lives shattered.
The loss is much more tangible this way than in any agenda-driven media headline or maudlin patriotic bumper sticker.
The loss is great. And tragic. And saddening.
And "a buck fiddy" short.
"If the documents are not what we were led to believe, I'd like to break that story," Rather said in an interview last night.Pssst, oh Danny Boy, the story's been broken. Don't you read blogs?
You ought to try it sometime to save yourself from looking like a partisan curmudgeon.
You know, unless you have a problem with seeing pictures of people in their jammies.
Update: Oh, sure, sure, I bet Sullivan will get all the credit for the jammies joke now. Hrmph.
Update Two: I have it from reliable sources that Andrew Sullivan would also never say, nor include in a post, the phrase "a buck fiddy."
Look, if so many Christians can - somehow - still believe in a global flood and a big boat full of animals that are on their best behavior, that don't need to eat, and most certainly don't poop, then does anyone really think that this is going to make a dent in Mormonism?
Gimme gimme more more more »
In Losing a Lost Tribe: Native Americans, DNA, and the Mormon Church (Signature Books), research scientist Simon G. Southerton of Canberra, Australia, notes that none of the nearly 7,500 DNA-tested Native Americans shows any link to ancient Israel. More than 99 percent show an Asian heritage. The Book of Mormon, however, says that Israelites emigrated to the Americas 2,600 years ago, with the now-extinct Lamanites and Nephites becoming the ancestors of American Indians.Granted, there will be a few people who are able to disengage their dogma and come to see the Crock of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Scams for what it is: a load of hooey (just like Catholicism, Judaism, Protestantism, Islam, Moonism, Heaven's Gateism, yada yada yada insert name of religion slash cult slash poppycock here).
However, the bulk of the Church shall hold Steve Perry on high, singin' "Don't Stop Believin'.
Staunch apologists of the faith deny that science disproves the faith's principal scripture.Disproves? No, but it does sort of reduce the origins tale from one of a mass exodus to just the story of a single homely Israeli who found his way to the Americas, couldn't land any of the native chicks, and died without progeny.
And then somehow the story just built up around him.
You know, just like with other religions.
FARMS founder John W. Welch said such opposition has been circulating for nearly a century. "The DNA factor is just one more indication that people came from various places in the world," Welch said. "This is just one more piece in a very big and complicated and obscure archaeological and anthropological picture."When the puzzle is complete, Mr. Welch, I'm willing to bet a million dollars that it won't be a picture of a smiling Joseph Smith.
"The Book of Mormon never claimed to be an exclusive account of people of the Americas," said Daniel C. Peterson, editor of The FARMS Review.The Book of Mormon also doesn't claim to be a big pile of supernatural doo doo either, but...
Yes, my very brief hiatus is apparently over.
« That's plenty, thanks!
Read this by Mr. Willis.
Then tell Oliver to go read this. I'm no fan of Dick "I love my dead gay son!" Cheney*, but this sort of willful mispresentation (or, failing that, incredible thickheadedness) is just ridiculous.
Now go beat your head upon a wall, desk, or other sufficiently hard object, frustrated by the knowledge that telling Oliver anything helpful won't do a lick of good. And neither would licking him, I guess, but if you want to try, go ahead. Just keep that stuff to yourself.
P.S. I made this for my pal Zombylicious**.
* I know he has a gay daughter who is very much alive, thank you. Go watch Heathers and then come back.
** No, I haven't been drinking - that's how he refers to himself, particularly when regaling us with tales of his supermodel sexploits.
Klingon speakers across the universe had much reason for celebration this week.In a related move, the National Science Foundation recommended adding the species "Homo Big Giant Dorkus" to international taxonomic standards. The survival of Homo Big Giant Dorkus confounds scientists to this day, as each member of the species remains a virgin until death.
The German broadcaster Deutsche Welle, basically the Teutonic version of the BBC, added it to the list of 30-odd languages on its Web site, the BBC itself reported.
To the best of my knowledge, the two posts below are not forgeries, but true and honest statements from the respective bloggers.
On the off chance that they turn out to be forged, doctored, or just pulled right out of Andy's ass, we've already talked to a really old person with questionable and fading memory* who has, with no hesitation, confirmed that the sentiments expressed are accurate.
I think that about settles it.
* Not Dan Rather.
We like the booty, you see.
I, Stephen Green, of Vodkapundit fame, do hereby declare that I am, in fact, a half-ass monkey boy.
John Ashcroft, after a serious night of lubing all his holy places with Crisco, had the Lord come to him in a dream and encourage the building of this monstrosity:
Illegal drugs from ecstasy to crack are back in Times Square – all safely under glass in what will be the world’s highest profile anti-drug museum at One Times Square called Target America: Drug Traffickers, Terrorists and You.Whew, it's a good thing they are under glass, because we all know that ecstasy and crack, when left lying out, have the mischievous power to launch themselves into our bloodstreams.* Remember, it's not that YOU abuse drugs, it's that drugs abuse YOU!
The free exhibit explains how illegal drug users are not the only victims.See, just like I said.
Isn't saying that illegal drug users are "victims" akin to saying that people who eat tons of fried food, smoke cigarettes, or masturbate with chainsaws are "victims" of their own behavior?
Displays include an actual drug related car wreck,WOW! An "actual drug related car wreck" - sounds like they had trouble drumming up even one of them. Now, if they were looking for an alcohol-inspired tangled mess of metal, they'd have had no problem. So much for priorities, Mr. Ashcroft.
... a jungle cocaine lab, an Afghan heroin “factory,” a re-created methamphetamine hotel cook room, a tenement crack-house room, and interactive kiosks that explain how dealers launder money to profit terrorists....all the while neglecting to mention how the idiotic war on drugs provides the incentive for people to infuse all of the above with massive amounts of money. I suppose that would not be "on message" - you know, undermining all your anti-drug bullshit with truth.
There is also a display on the link between drugs and terror that includes a memorial containing wreckage and artifacts from the September 11, 2001 attacks at the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.Holy shit, you mean that the hijackers were using drugs and that is why they crashed their planes?
And here I was thinking it was just small-minded belief in their narrow religious view that they were "god's-chosen-people-for-now." Silly me.
Thanks for clearing it up, Johnny.
You lying sack of shit. Wait, can I say that? [Patriot Act Note: This sentence was found to be in violation of the Patriot Act and a personal affront to Herr Ashcroft, thus it has been rescinded with apologies and blood sacrifice.]
According to DEA Administrator Karen Tandy, "Bringing 'Target America' to Times Square will let millions of visitors see, first hand, how US illegal drug sales not only help support terrorism, but also how drugs terrorize all of us."It will not, however, let anyone see how legalizing drugs would eliminate said support, and how punishing the abuse of drugs alone would help us all. Truth, such a pesky little thing.
Good lord, the priorities of this DOJ are so... fucked. Yeah, that's the word.
* Similar effects have been documented with homosexuality, with dirty "homosexual particles" leaping from infected persons to otherwise straight individuals, turning them into well-dressed, etiquette-minded minions of fine living. Scary!
And then they go and mention that the blogosphere is full of ranting - but they don't mention The World Wide Rant? The humanity! It's a crime against all of blogdom! I demand we unite and bring down the mainstream media by sunrise!
OK, fine, I'll shut up and just go watch Wonkette on CNN up next. Maybe she'll show some boob.
Update: Wonkette has described her blog as "empty calories." Hey, I didn't say it. But, c'mon now, don't be so hard on yourself, even Washingtonienne's stories had a few calories in each protein-filled teaspoonful.
Update Two: Should mention there was no sign, that I saw, of uber-lefty blogger Atrios. Apparently even CNN knows he's full of shit.
Update Three: No boob.
You know, when you buy into a stock at $28/share and then tell yourself you'll close the position when it hits $50, it's kind of tough to sell at $50. Because, you know, what if it goes to $60? Golly!
Yes, I'll tell you the name of the stock.
When I sell it.
Which should be pretty soon.
I'm not much of a fan of Emeril and his over-the-top kitchen theatrics, but I did make this recipe when I got an issue of Wine Spectator a couple of months ago. Now it's available online for those of you interested in a pretty simple and pretty tasty pasta bolognese recipe. Personally, I didn't much care for the sweet Italian sausage, but the hot Italian sausage gave it some punch. Oh, and I paired it with a 2001 Selvole Sangiovese, for those keeping score at home.
Woo, that's an exciting post, huh?
A pause in the action.
Quite simply, I've nary a clue about what I should write at the moment. There's a lot going on with regard to the Bush and Kerry campaigns, but when you're not exactly having a party in your pants over either candidate, it's difficult to get worked up about it.
Wait, the Boston Globe is lying to further an agenda? You don't say. Don't get me wrong - 'twas a great bit of investigative blogging from Bill at INDC, Powerlineblog, and others. But I can't say I'm surprised.
Creationism versus evolution? Always a fun topic, but people who believe we were made magically delicious with a wave of Yahweh's hand, despite all of the evidence to the contrary, aren't going to be convinced by the blog. I know I often reprimanded Tom for such a hands-in-the-air, we-give-up attitude, as you never know what on-the-fence lurker might be tempted to jump to our side, but that's how I'm feelin'. I'm sure it will pass the next time I Google the news for "creationism" and see what kind of idiocy they're up to this week.
Existence of god(s)? See above. Replace "creationism" in the last sentence with "Christianity" and/or "atheism."
Hell, just wet, lather, rinse, and repeat all of the above for the myriad topics upon which I expound for your edification on a regular basis.
Cocky? Me? Nahhh.
So, I'll take some time to ponder where I want to go with this site and what I want to write about and then get back to you. If you have any suggestions, pass'em along - I'm all ears (except for the eyes, nose, hands, and such of me that are not ears, but other than those parts). In the meantime, there's a fine list of blog links off to the right, some of which actually go to updated blogs. I really should get around to updating the blogroll sometime.
Anyway, talk soon. And given how stupid the world can be, probably much sooner than later.
I'm off to enjoy some time with the wife and child.
* 9/11 tribute songs removed for general bandwidth purposes.
I've got a wee review of Keller Williams' latest release, Stage, up over at Blogcritics. You know, if that kind of thing interests you. It probably should.
Unless you're Tom, of course.
But that's neither here nor there.
Yeah, this is about how I feel at this point as well.
Hey there, anybody got any novel ideas on why my Linksys wireless router would have recently decided to drop its internet connection every couple of hours? No big changes made to either the PC or laptop that use the router (wired and wireless, respectively) - just a new behavioral quirk that the router is exhibiting.
Today, my laptop went to XP SP2 and the router got the newest firmware, but this problem was happening before all of that.
I'd call Linksys, but my last experience wasn't the best.
I hope it's not related to the NASA Genesis problems. That would be embarrassing!
Update: Hmmm, while upgrading the desktop to XP SP2, the updaters also suggested I run a fix for a variety of worms, indicating that the PC was possibly infected. I wonder if it might have been Comcast plugging up my connection to stop the worm from spreading itself. Mysteries... mysteries.
Now, now, don't look at me that way. I rarely use the desktop PC so 'tis not I that helped it pick up an electronically transmitted disease. Rather, that would be my wife. The former IT manager. Who should know better.
I think she deserves a sound spanking.
This will be fun.
Hey, where'd everybody go?
I've heard of men who like'em natural and men who don't mind a little fake here or there, but I've yet to meet any guy who would (to my knowledge) rhythmically strangle his barnyard flappy-feathered-friend while salivating over a completely fake woman.
This, of course, could be because such a man would live in his mom's basement, never seeing the light of day lest he miss a single exciting development in his online fantasy game social life*.
Found via Copygodd.
* Because everyone is cool in cyberspace. And, if you aren't, I dread to think how amazingly dull you are in real life.
Oh, John, you kidder, hush hush:
To me Vietnam is an old place, an old memory. It is old history, it's gone, it's past. The less I have to talk about it, frankly, the happier I am.Crikey, the man must be positively in tears by this point in the campaign.
And, you know, I'm sure Teresa is a lovely person, one who might even stoop to the level of eating a Twinkie were she stranded on an island after her yacht sank*, but come on, dude...
GQ: What would it be for you, with Teresa?He left out:
JK: Someone who excites you, turns you on. It's a quality of character. It's a kind of presentation. Sense of womanhood. Confident. It's a woman who loves being a woman. Who knows how to flirt and have fun. Smart. Has a sense of self. Strong. And obviously sexy and saucy and challenging.
...with scads and scads and oodles of oodles of condiment-funded money! Wee-hee!* Attention Heinz-Kerry lawyers: this should not be construed to imply that Teresa's yacht would actually have Twinkies onboard. Rather, envision a crate of them washing up on shore a la Gilligan's Island and the radioactive vegetables.
The long, holiday weekend is just about over.
Evenings like this remind me that I really need to get crackin' on that "lottery-based early-retirement" plan of mine.
Yes, college football season is upon us!
And, yes, I realize she doesn't look terribly happy, but the face of Fiona is a fickle facade. I'll try to get a better one later.
Update: Alabama drops Utah State 48-17 in the season opener. Hey Aggies, we just beat the hell out of you! - rammer jammer yellowhammer, give'em hell Alabama!
Today, a small explosion shuts down LAX.
I think not.
Or maybe so.
Update: Oh, yes, and Zomby. I would say "how could I possibly forget?" - but then he bought rounds of shots, so that's how I could possibly forget.
Yep, those nasty terrorists are just "misunderstood."
No, they're inhuman assholes who should be exterminated with extreme prejudice wherever they choose to hide.
John Kerry Moment: You know, if that's ok with France, Spain, and Germany, of course.
Just saw where former President Clinton is going to be having bypass surgery early next week. My first inclination was to scuttle down to the PC, visit the Freepers, and see how many of them could turn this into something political (e.g. they hope that liberal dies!).
But, no, even before I could do that, Senator Hillary came on the tube to tell us how Bill was doing, how he was beating everyone at cards, how the good American people could send the ex-President their well-wishes... all well and good and fitting.
And then, she couldn't resist.
She had to make it political and state what great healthcare they have and how nice it would be if, someday, somehow, everyone could have such great insurance too.
Wrong place. Wrong time. Go away, Hillary.
Sooo, how about that big Bush speech at the Republican National Convention?
No, really, tell me all about it 'cause we were drinking beer and watching Kill Bill Vol. 2.
And now we're off to bed, and if that bedroom's a-rockin', don't come a-kn... oh, hell, who am I kidding? We've been married nigh on seven years. It's lights out and sleepy-sleeps time.
See you in the morning.
Pre-sleepy-sleeps time update: Dolphin's Dock points to this interesting story that seems to indicate that Zell Miller is a fair-weather DemoRepubcratlican or whatever the heck he is supposed to be this week.
OK, over and out.
Found via Mark Shea.
This brings the official evidentiary score for UFO abductees to 0.00001, while for theists it's still a big goose egg.
(found at Drudge)
No, no point to this other than to say "Damn, I have a cute kid."
Here's a photo of the wee Fiona* on our flight from Atlanta to Denver at the tail end of our vacation. For those who simply must know, she's reading That's Not My Lion. It's a must-read. If you're a toddler. Who, uh... can't read.
Terrorists launch offensive against arch-nemesis, Russian school children.
Attackers wearing homicide-bomb belts seized a Russian school in a region bordering Chechnya on Wednesday, taking hostage about 400 people — half of them children — and threatening to blow up the building.And Russian authorities have an epiphany:
"In essence, war has been declared on us, where the enemy is unseen and there is no front," Russian Defense Minister Sergei Ivanov said.Welcome to the modern world, comrade.