The Sewing Circle

PEACE AND FREEDOM HOTEL!

2012-01-24T16:14:00.001-07:00

Here it is.

MADISON WI, OVERLOOKING LAKE MENDOTA

2010-12-10T09:31:00.005-07:00

This is Madison, WI overlooking lake Mendota, from King Hall, Nov. 23, 2010, late morning. Current web cam view:

http://www.soils.wisc.edu/~asig/webcam.html

An Outrage: The Weiner Wagon Across America!

2010-05-03T13:34:00.004-06:00

A famous rabbi-bodhisattva, who lived in Iron Mountain MI, once told me:
"It's an outrage!"

Moe's Weiner Wagon:

http://allstarcarts.thomasnet.com/item/all-categories/hot-dog-carts-2/moe-s-weiner-wagon?&seo=1

Need a Weiner Wagon T-shirt?

http://www.zazzle.com/weiner_wagon_tshirt-235851858589268103

Spud's Weiner Wagon!

http://spudsweinerwagon.com/

I wish I was an Oscar Meyer Weiner!

http://activerain.com/image_store/uploads/3/4/9/7/7/ar12610310277943.jpg

Help from Google!

http://www.google.com/images?q=%22weiner+wagon%22&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=gxzfS4KXGpLINfXhqNkH&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=4&ved=0CB0QsAQwAw

JACK NICHOLSON AND SWEET PEA THE RABBIT

2009-10-19T16:44:00.003-06:00

SEPARATED AT BIRTH?

One wonders ...

About a month ago, Sweet Pea, our rabbit, broke a couple of toes, probably while rummaging around in the "fake rocks" in our fireplace, which was NOT turned on at the time. (Don't ask.)

Anyway, Sweet Pea came home with a splint on her left leg, with instructions from her doctor: "no running or jumping" and "Sweet Pea should not chew her splint".

!?!?!??????

Later, we started to see apparent similarities between Jack Nicholson and Sweet Pea.......

BLOSSOM THERABBIT

2009-05-18T17:29:00.003-06:00

One of our rabbits, “Blossom Therabbit” passed away May 1 after GI illness and old age. That’s Blossom on the left with “Sweet Pea”, warming themselves by a fire with a plate of greens. Blossom and Sweet Pea were a pair of “bonded” bunnies – in Star Trek terms that means they shared each other’s “katra” (soul). Being bonded also means that they were each other's constant and forever companion.

Bunnies are funny little beasties – their diets are comparable to a horse’s: timothy hay, carrots, celery, leafy greens. A raisin is much appreciated. Blossom much preferred the “mélange du printemps”.

"The buns" loved a good romp about the living room. After that they would settle in for a night of TV. "Law and Order" is Sweet Pea's favorite program. Classic "Law and Order" mind you; none of those damn spin-offs.

Once Law and Order or what ever we were watching was over about 11:00, the buns would hustle themseleves back into their pen (in my office), expecting their nightly raisin. Sometimes they would do this on their own.

Rabbits are not good pets for children – you spend a lot of time cleaning up after them plus they’ll destroy every stick of furniture you have in the house, heh heh.

Nevertheless … they are gentle, good natured and good humored beings. They tend to return any attention you give them in kind …Little sprites really.

Blossom now joins Boxanne in Animal Valhalla!

Yikes!

2009-04-18T22:11:00.002-06:00

Well, I hope I didn't screw up anybody else's password or whatnot.

I lost my username and password in the Great Hard Drive Meltdown and have finally gotten around to getting back to where I can post now.

Don't really have anything to say...

At least now I'll be able to blog again if I ever do think of anything.

Saboda's Notes from a Late City Man, a Peripatetic Series Vol. 1 No. 1

2008-08-27T14:29:00.003-06:00

Once the government's "stimulus" checks were finally in the hands of the vast and embittered unwashed masses, the following was reported in the news: there has been a definite "surge" in sales and revenue to on-line p0rno sites. (Surge, get it?) It appears the country is stimulating itself. (Surge, get it?)

Heh heh.

Is this a great country, or what?

"What do you think, Linda?"

Saboda
Notes from a Late City Man
a Peripatetic Series
copyright 2008
VanhousenEnterprises

All hail Jeffrey Barron!

SABODA TO RETIRE TO GEORGIA?

2008-08-11T17:14:00.012-06:00

The history of the country Georgia is incredibly rich and complicated. Did you know they were possibly the second state (after Armenia) to adopt Christianity as a state religion? This was around 350 A.D.

Georgia reached its zenith in the 13th century, and it's been all downhill since then. They've been invaded and conquered by nearly everyone!

It's possible that I am distantly related to the last Imeretian (Georgian) king. Therefore I've decided that when I am 60 I will go to live in Georgia in a cabin on the Black Sea. Anyone want to join me?

Saboda, King of the Georgians!

Check it out here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Georgia_(country)

This could be my cabin!

If my Georgian adventure doesn't work out, then I will retire to Armenia. Armenian women are the most beautiful in the world.

Is this Number 6's high school yearbook photo?!?

And in other subjects:

Read all about the Russian diaspora:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russian_diaspora

Signed,

Saboda

-----Original Message-----
From: number6@unlv.nevada.edu
To: Hans Castorp
Cc: zimmy@msn.com; sireeff@pacbell.net; number6@hawaii.rr.com; sireeff@yahoo.com; ashbrook@juno.com; brog@hlerk.com
Sent: Mon, 11 Aug 2008 3:44 am
Subject: Re: The word 'jewess'?
Ha ha what a kidder.

Quoting Hans Castorp :

> Stumbling across the word 'jewess' in an old Webster's dictionary, the
> listing said the word was "sometimes considered offensive".
>
> Anybody agree with this?? Maybe I'm just totally out of it.......
>

> Your fiend,
>
> Saboda
>

This man looks amazingly like cousin Jeffrey Barron.

"OLD MEMORIES"

2008-06-13T17:20:00.005-06:00

Here are some “old memories” of mine, from the Omaha days, presented for your amusement, and mine too. These are submitted in no particular order or priority. Say, why not submit some of YOURS?!

• Playing Stratego with Bennett in the summer. (I usually won, as I recall.)

• Driving through the cemetery on Center, at high speed, in Ashbrook’s yellow VW “AL 3000”. There was a section for infant deaths called “Baby Land”!

• Pick up softball in the Beth Israel parking lot with Bennett, Mike Forman, Steve Violet, and others.

• Psychoanalyzing Number 6 at my house while John Lennon’s “Two Virgins” played in the background.

• The Voice of Denmark speakers!

• Ashbrook and me lighting farts in my mom’s kitchen.

• New years eve party at Siref’s.

• Saturday bus and walking tours with Bennett through South Omaha. We would sometimes visit his dad’s barbershop, or spend the time talking about “old memories”!

• Practicing with Captain Hogfat and His Tolerance Band in the basement of 1322 N. 52nd Street.

• Chuck giving me drum lessons.

• Driving adventures in AL 3000 Ashbrook’s VW.

• Mr. Up’s coffee house.

• Freddie’s house. (I will say no more!)

• Ashbrook’s mom making us breakfast.

• Dinners at Mino and Evey’s house.

• Gefilte fish in Betty Weiner’s kitchen and Martin talking about his days in China.

• Ashbrook or Chuck put a sponge on a small plate, and then put it in the refrigerator in my mom’s kitchen. It remained there for 2 weeks before anyone noticed. Early demonstration of “chaos theory”.

• “The Adventures of the Professor and Bill!”

• John Heredia and me walking to the bowling alley at night to play pinball. There was a shortcut that we took by actually climbing OVER the roof of an apartment building.

• Spending all day Saturday at the old library.

• Number 6, Suzi Laier, and me going to see a James Bond double-feature at the old Astro Theater on a “snow day”. The streets were impassable by car. So we all walked from my house to the theater, and then walked back.

• “Has Anybody Seen Roger?”

• Watching Cyrano de Bergerac on PBS at Burke’s, while quaffing his home-made brew.

• Seeing John Hartford at the Orpheum Theater with Number 6 and Betsy.

• The New England and Canadian hitchhiking trip with Ashbrook, heh, heh. “Who’s on WHAT roster?” The Phoenix Bar shall rise from the ashes!

• Chicago and Ann Arbor hitchhiking trip with Number 6. “Der Schnakes! Der Schnakes!” And meeting very strange people in Ypsilanti.

• Number 6 and me checking out the Memorial Park police/hippie riots!

• The big party at Beth Greenblatt’s, Dec. 1970.

• Watching The Tonight Show every night in the summer, and then reading science fiction until 3 AM, the time when man is closest to death!

• Buy a sailor a drink?

• “Scrub Up!” and “This Whiskey’s Been the Downfall of Me”.

• 622 N. 50th Street

• “Bennett, Ruler of Galaxy!”

• For I can only see where there is light.

• Chuck’s car breaking down outside of Truth or Consequences, NM, on the Tucson trip.

• I was such a dork that I wore a peace medallion to the Old Market when I was 15.

• Sue Lozier once referred to Chuck, Evan, and me as “The Three Stooges”. A true compliment!

• Pool at the old Dundee Dell with Evan. “I Can't Get Started” playing endlessly on the jukebox.

• “Traduce not the slave who is beneath you!”

A Horse Is A Horse, Of Course, Of Course

2008-03-25T12:44:00.002-06:00

Celebrating Jake, The Wonder Horse.

Merkwürdigeliebe!

2007-11-08T16:05:00.000-07:00

Major T. J. "King" Kong: Goldie, how many times have I told you guys that I don't want no horsing around on the airplane?

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Major T. J. "King" Kong: Well, I've been to one world fair, a picnic, and a rodeo, and that's the stupidest thing I ever heard come over a set of earphones. You sure you got today's codes?

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Major T. J. "King" Kong: Well, boys, I reckon this is it - nuclear combat toe to toe with the Roosskies. Now look, boys, I ain't much of a hand at makin' speeches, but I got a pretty fair idea that something doggone important is goin' on back there. And I got a fair idea the kinda personal emotions that some of you fellas may be thinkin'. Heck, I reckon you wouldn't even be human bein's if you didn't have some pretty strong personal feelin's about nuclear combat. I want you to remember one thing, the folks back home is a-countin' on you and by golly, we ain't about to let 'em down. I tell you something else, if this thing turns out to be half as important as I figure it just might be, I'd say that you're all in line for some important promotions and personal citations when this thing's over with. That goes for ever' last one of you regardless of your race, color or your creed. Now let's get this thing on the hump - we got some flyin' to do.

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Miss Scott: It's 3 o'clock in the morning!
General "Buck" Turgidson: Weh-heh-heh-ll, the Air Force never sleeps.
Miss Scott: Buck, honey, I'm not sleepy either...
General "Buck" Turgidson: I know how it is, baby. Tell you what you do: you just start your countdown, and old Bucky'll be back here before you can say "Blast off!"

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General Jack D. Ripper: Your Commie has no regard for human life. Not even his own.

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Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Erm, what about the planes, sir? Surely we must issue the recall code immediately.
General Jack D. Ripper: Group Captain, the planes are not gonna be recalled. My attack orders have been issued, and the orders stand.
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Well, if you'll excuse me saying so, sir, that would be, to my way of thinking, rather... well, rather an odd way of looking at it. You see, if a Russian attack was in progress, we would certainly not be hearing civilian broadcast.
General Jack D. Ripper: Are you certain of that, Mandrake?
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Oh, I'm absolutely positive about it.
General Jack D. Ripper: And what if it is true?
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Well, I'm afraid I'm still not with you, sir, because, I mean, if a Russian attack was not in progress, then your use of Plan R - in fact, your order to the entire Wing... Oh. I would say, sir, that there were something dreadfully wrong somewhere.
General Jack D. Ripper: Now why don't you just take it easy, Group Captain, and please make me a drink of grain alcohol and rainwater, and help yourself to whatever you'd like.
[Mandrake snaps to attention and salutes]
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: General Ripper, Sir, as an officer in Her Majesty's Air Force, it is my clear duty, under the present circumstances, to issue the recall code, upon my own authority, and bring back the Wing. If you'll excuse me, sir.
[He finds the doors locked]
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: I'm afraid, sir, I must ask you for the key, and the recall code. Have you got them handy, sir?

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General Jack D. Ripper: Mandrake, do you recall what Clemenceau once said about war?
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: No, I don't think I do, sir, no.
General Jack D. Ripper: He said war was too important to be left to the generals. When he said that, 50 years ago, he might have been right. But today, war is too important to be left to politicians. They have neither the time, the training, nor the inclination for strategic thought. I can no longer sit back and allow Communist infiltration, Communist indoctrination, Communist subversion and the international Communist conspiracy to sap and impurify all of our precious bodily fluids.

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General "Buck" Turgidson: Mr. President, about, uh, 35 minutes ago, General Jack Ripper, the commanding general of, uh, Burpelson Air Force Base, issued an order to the 34 B-52's of his Wing, which were airborne at the time as part of a special exercise we were holding called Operation Drop-Kick. Now, it appears that the order called for the planes to, uh, attack their targets inside Russia. The, uh, planes are fully armed with nuclear weapons with an average load of, um, 40 megatons each. Now, the central display of Russia will indicate the position of the planes. The triangles are their primary targets; the squares are their secondary targets. The aircraft will begin penetrating Russian radar cover within, uh, 25 minutes.
President Merkin Muffley: General Turgidson, I find this very difficult to understand. I was under the impression that I was the only one in authority to order the use of nuclear weapons.
General "Buck" Turgidson: That's right, sir, you are the only person authorized to do so. And although I, uh, hate to judge before all the facts are in, it's beginning to look like, uh, General Ripper exceeded his authority.

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General "Buck" Turgidson: General Ripper called Strategic Air Command headquarters shortly after he issued the go code. I have a portion of the transcript of that conversation if you'd like me to to read it.
President Merkin Muffley: Read it!
General "Buck" Turgidson: Ahem... The Duty Officer asked General Ripper to confirm the fact that he *had* issued the go code, and he said, uh, "Yes gentlemen, they are on their way in, and no one can bring them back. For the sake of our country, and our way of life, I suggest you get the rest of SAC in after them. Otherwise, we will be totally destroyed by Red retaliation. Uh, my boys will give you the best kind of start, 1400 megatons worth, and you sure as hell won't stop them now, uhuh. Uh, so let's get going, there's no other choice. God willing, we will prevail, in peace and freedom from fear, and in true health, through the purity and essence of our natural... fluids. God bless you all" and he hung up.
[beat]
General "Buck" Turgidson: Uh, we're, still trying to figure out the meaning of that last phrase, sir.
President Merkin Muffley: There's nothing to figure out, General Turgidson. This man is obviously a psychotic.
General "Buck" Turgidson: We-he-ell, uh, I'd like to hold off judgement on a thing like that, sir, until all the facts are in.
President Merkin Muffley: General Turgidson! When you instituted the human reliability tests, you *assured* me there was *no* possibility of such a thing *ever* occurring!
General "Buck" Turgidson: Well, I, uh, don't think it's quite fair to condemn a whole program because of a single slip-up, sir.

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[Turgidson advocates a further nuclear attack to prevent a Soviet response to Ripper's attack]
General "Buck" Turgidson: Mr. President, we are rapidly approaching a moment of truth both for ourselves as human beings and for the life of our nation. Now, truth is not always a pleasant thing. But it is necessary now to make a choice, to choose between two admittedly regrettable, but nevertheless *distinguishable*, postwar environments: one where you got twenty million people killed, and the other where you got a hundred and fifty million people killed.
President Merkin Muffley: You're talking about mass murder, General, not war!
General "Buck" Turgidson: Mr. President, I'm not saying we wouldn't get our hair mussed. But I do say no more than ten to twenty million killed, tops. Uh, depending on the breaks.

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General "Buck" Turgidson: Mr. President, I'm not saying we wouldn't get our hair mussed, but I do say no more then ten to twenty million killed, tops. Depending on the breaks.

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Major T. J. "King" Kong: Survival kit contents check. In them you'll find: one forty-five caliber automatic; two boxes of ammunition; four days' concentrated emergency rations; one drug issue containing antibiotics, morphine, vitamin pills, pep pills, sleeping pills, tranquilizer pills; one miniature combination Russian phrase book and Bible; one hundred dollars in rubles; one hundred dollars in gold; nine packs of chewing gum; one issue of prophylactics; three lipsticks; three pair of nylon stockings. Shoot, a fella' could have a pretty good weekend in Vegas with all that stuff.

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President Merkin Muffley: Gentlemen, you can't fight in here! This is the War Room.

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[the President calls the Soviet Premier]
President Merkin Muffley: [to Kissoff] Hello?... Uh... Hello D- uh hello Dmitri? Listen uh uh I can't hear too well. Do you suppose you could turn the music down just a little?... Oh-ho, that's much better... yeah... huh... yes... Fine, I can hear you now, Dmitri... Clear and plain and coming through fine... I'm coming through fine, too, eh?... Good, then... well, then, as you say, we're both coming through fine... Good... Well, it's good that you're fine and... and I'm fine... I agree with you, it's great to be fine... a-ha-ha-ha-ha... Now then, Dmitri, you know how we've always talked about the possibility of something going wrong with the Bomb... The *Bomb*, Dmitri... The *hydrogen* bomb!... Well now, what happened is... ahm... one of our base commanders, he had a sort of... well, he went a little funny in the head... you know... just a little... funny. And, ah... he went and did a silly thing... Well, I'll tell you what he did. He ordered his planes... to attack your country... Ah... Well, let me finish, Dmitri... Let me finish, Dmitri... Well listen, how do you think I feel about it?... Can you *imagine* how I feel about it, Dmitri?... Why do you think I'm calling you? Just to say hello?... *Of course* I like to speak to you!... *Of course* I like to say hello!... Not now, but anytime, Dmitri. I'm just calling up to tell you something terrible has happened... It's a *friendly* call. Of course it's a friendly call... Listen, if it wasn't friendly... you probably wouldn't have even got it... They will *not* reach their targets for at least another hour... I am... I am positive, Dmitri... Listen, I've been all over this with your ambassador. It is not a trick... Well, I'll tell you. We'd like to give your air staff a complete run-down on the targets, the flight plans, and the defensive systems of the planes... Yes! I mean i-i-i-if we're unable to recall the planes, then... I'd say that, ah... well, ah... we're just gonna have to help you destroy them, Dmitri... I know they're our boys... All right, well listen now. Who should we call?... *Who* should we call, Dmitri? The... wha-whe, the People... you, sorry, you faded away there... The People's Central Air Defense Headquarters... Where is that, Dmitri?... In Omsk... Right... Yes... Oh, you'll call them first, will you?... Uh-huh... Listen, do you happen to have the phone number on you, Dmitri?... Whe-ah, what? I see, just ask for Omsk information... Ah-ah-eh-uhm-hm... I'm sorry, too, Dmitri... I'm very sorry... *All right*, you're sorrier than I am, but I am as sorry as well... I am as sorry as you are, Dmitri! Don't say that you're more sorry than I am, because I'm capable of being just as sorry as you are... So we're both sorry, all right?... All right.

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Major T. J. "King" Kong: I don't give a hoot in Hell how you do it, you just get me to the Primary, ya hear!

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[after learning of the Doomsday Machine]
President Merkin Muffley: But this is absolute madness, Ambassador! Why should you *build* such a thing?
Ambassador de Sadesky: There were those of us who fought against it, but in the end we could not keep up with the expense involved in the arms race, the space race, and the peace race. At the same time our people grumbled for more nylons and washing machines. Our doomsday scheme cost us just a small fraction of what we had been spending on defense in a single year. The deciding factor was when we learned that your country was working along similar lines, and we were afraid of a doomsday gap.
President Merkin Muffley: This is preposterous. I've never approved of anything like that.
Ambassador de Sadesky: Our source was the New York Times.

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[Strangelove admits that he investigated making such a machine]
Dr. Strangelove: Based on the findings of the report, my conclusion was that this idea was not a practical deterrent for reasons which at this moment must be all too obvious.

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General "Buck" Turgidson: Gee, I wish we had one of them doomsday machines.

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General Jack D. Ripper: Mandrake, do you realize that in addition to fluoridating water, why, there are studies underway to fluoridate salt, flour, fruit juices, soup, sugar, milk... ice cream. Ice cream, Mandrake, children's ice cream.
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Lord, Jack.
General Jack D. Ripper: You know when fluoridation first began?
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: I... no, no. I don't, Jack.
General Jack D. Ripper: Nineteen hundred and forty-six. Nineteen forty-six, Mandrake. How does that coincide with your post-war Commie conspiracy, huh? It's incredibly obvious, isn't it? A foreign substance is introduced into our precious bodily fluids without the knowledge of the individual. Certainly without any choice. That's the way your hard-core Commie works.
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Uh, Jack, Jack, listen, tell me, tell me, Jack. When did you first... become... well, develop this theory?
General Jack D. Ripper: Well, I, uh... I... I... first became aware of it, Mandrake, during the physical act of love.
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Hmm.
General Jack D. Ripper: Yes, a uh, a profound sense of fatigue... a feeling of emptiness followed. Luckily I... I was able to interpret these feelings correctly. Loss of essence.
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Hmm.
General Jack D. Ripper: I can assure you it has not recurred, Mandrake. Women uh... women sense my power and they seek the life essence. I, uh... I do not avoid women, Mandrake.
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: No.
General Jack D. Ripper: But I... I do deny them my essence.

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Major T. J. "King" Kong: Well, boys, we got three engines out, we got more holes in us than a horse trader's mule, the radio is gone and we're leaking fuel and if we was flying any lower why we'd need sleigh bells on this thing... but we got one little budge on them Rooskies. At this height why they might harpoon us but they dang sure ain't gonna spot us on no radar screen!

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Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Colonel! Colonel, I must know what you think has been going on here!
Colonel "Bat" Guano: You wanna know what I think?
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Yes!
Colonel "Bat" Guano: I think you're some kind of deviated prevert. I think General Ripper found out about your preversion, and that you were organizing some kind of mutiny of preverts. Now MOVE!

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Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Colonel... that Coca-Cola machine. I want you to shoot the lock off it. There may be some change in there.
Colonel "Bat" Guano: That's private property.
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Colonel! Can you possibly imagine what is going to happen to you, your frame, outlook, way of life, and everything, when they learn that you have obstructed a telephone call to the President of the United States? Can you imagine? Shoot it off! Shoot! With a gun! That's what the bullets are for, you twit!
Colonel "Bat" Guano: Okay. I'm gonna get your money for ya. But if you don't get the President of the United States on that phone, you know what's gonna happen to you?
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: What?
Colonel "Bat" Guano: You're gonna have to answer to the Coca-Cola company.

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General "Buck" Turgidson: If the pilot's good, see, I mean if he's reeeally sharp, he can barrel that baby in so low... oh you oughta see it sometime. It's a sight. A big plane like a '52... varrrooom! Its jet exhaust... frying chickens in the barnyard!

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General "Buck" Turgidson: Sir, you can't let him in here. He'll see everything. He'll see the big board!

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[last lines]
Dr. Strangelove: Sir! I have a plan!
[standing up from his wheelchair]
Dr. Strangelove: Mein Führer! I can walk!

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Major T. J. "King" Kong: Stay on the bomb run, boys! I'm gonna get them doors open if it harelips ever'body on Bear Creek!

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[discussing the Doomsday machine]
President Merkin Muffley: How is it possible for this thing to be triggered automatically and at the same time impossible to untrigger?
Dr. Strangelove: Mr. President, it is not only possible, it is essential. That is the whole idea of this machine, you know. Deterrence is the art of producing in the mind of the enemy... the FEAR to attack. And so, because of the automated and irrevocable decision-making process which rules out human meddling, the Doomsday machine is terrifying and simple to understand... and completely credible and convincing.

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General "Buck" Turgidson: Is that the Russian ambassador you're talking about?
President Merkin Muffley: Yes it is, General.
General "Buck" Turgidson: A-A-Am I to understand the *Russian* ambassador is to be admitted entrance to th-the War Room?
President Merkin Muffley: That is correct, he is here on my orders.
General "Buck" Turgidson: I... I don't know exactly how to put this, sir, but are you aware of what a serious breach of security that would be? I mean, he'll see everything, he'll... he'll see the Big Board!

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General Jack D. Ripper: Fluoridation is the most monstrously conceived and dangerous communist plot we have ever had to face.

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[General Turgenson's phone rings in the war room]
General "Buck" Turgidson: Hello...
[whispering]
General "Buck" Turgidson: I told you never to call me here, don't you know where I am?... Well look, baby, I c-, I *can't* talk to you now... my president needs me!... Of *course* Bucky'd rather be there with you!... Of *course* it isn't only physical!... I deeply respect you as a human being... Some day I'm gonna make you *Mrs* Buck Turgidson!... Oh, listen uh, you go back to sleep hon, and Bucky'll be back there just as soon as he can... All right... listen, sug, don't forget to say your prayers!

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General "Buck" Turgidson: Mr. President, we must not allow a mineshaft gap!

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General Jack D. Ripper: Were you ever a prisoner of war?
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Well, yes I was, matter of fact, Jack, I was.
General Jack D. Ripper: Did they torture you?
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Uh, yes they did. I was tortured by the Japanese, Jack, if you must know; not a pretty story.
General Jack D. Ripper: Well, what happened?
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Oh, well, I don't know, Jack, difficult to think of under these conditions; but, well, what happened was they got me on the old Rangoon-Ichinawa railway. I was laying train lines for the bloody Japanese puff-puff's.
General Jack D. Ripper: No, I mean when they tortured you did you talk?
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Ah, oh, no... well, I don't think they wanted me to talk really. I don't think they wanted me to say anything. It was just their way of having a bit of fun, the swines. Strange thing is they make such bloody good cameras.

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General Jack D. Ripper: The base is being put on Condition Red. I want this flashed to all sections immediately.
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Condition Red, sir, yes, jolly good idea. That keeps the men on their toes.
General Jack D. Ripper: Group Captain, I'm afraid this is not an exercise.
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Not an exercise, sir?
General Jack D. Ripper: I shouldn't tell you this, Mandrake, but you're a good officer and you've a right to know. It looks like we're in a shooting war.
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Oh, hell. Are the Russians involved, sir?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
General Jack D. Ripper: Mandrake, have you ever seen a Commie drink a glass of water?
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Well, no, I can't say I have.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Do I look all rancid and clotted? You look at me, Jack. Eh? Look, eh? And I drink a lot of water, you know. I'm what you might call a water man, Jack - that's what I am. And I can swear to you, my boy, swear to you, that there's nothing wrong with my bodily fluids. Not a thing, Jackie.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: If you don't put that gun away and stop this stupid nonsense, the court of Enquiry on this'll give you such a pranging, you'll be lucky if you end up wearing the uniform of a bloody toilet attendant.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Strangelove's plan for post-nuclear war survival involves living underground with a 10:1 female-to-male ratio]
General "Buck" Turgidson: Doctor, you mentioned the ratio of ten women to each man. Now, wouldn't that necessitate the abandonment of the so-called monogamous sexual relationship, I mean, as far as men were concerned?
Dr. Strangelove: Regrettably, yes. But it is, you know, a sacrifice required for the future of the human race. I hasten to add that since each man will be required to do prodigious... service along these lines, the women will have to be selected for their sexual characteristics which will have to be of a highly stimulating nature.
Ambassador de Sadesky: I must confess, you have an astonishingly good idea there, Doctor.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dr. Strangelove: Of course, the whole point of a Doomsday Machine is lost, if you *keep* it a *secret*! Why didn't you tell the world, EH?
Ambassador de Sadesky: It was to be announced at the Party Congress on Monday. As you know, the Premier loves surprises.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Colonel "Bat" Guano: You don't think I'd go into combat with loose change in my pocket, do you?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
General "Buck" Turgidson: Hmm... Strangelove? What kind of a name is that? That ain't no Kraut name is it, Stainesey?
Mr. Staines: He changed it when he became a citizen. Used to be Merkwürdigeliebe.
[the German word for "Strangelove"]
General "Buck" Turgidson: Well, a Kraut by any other name, uh Stainesey?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Is it that bad, sir?
General Jack D. Ripper: Looks like it's pretty hairy.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
General "Buck" Turgidson: Mr. President, if I may speak freely, the Russkie talks big, but frankly, we think he's short of know how. I mean, you just can't expect a bunch of ignorant peons to understand a machine like some of our boys. And that's not meant as an insult, Mr. Ambassador, I mean, you take your average Russkie, we all know how much guts he's got. Hell, lookit look at all them them Nazis killed off and they still wouldn't quit.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[first lines]
Narrator: For more than a year, ominous rumors had been privately circulating among high-level Western leaders that the Soviet Union had been at work on what was darkly hinted to be the ultimate weapon: a doomsday device. Intelligence sources traced the site of the top secret Russian project to the perpetually fog-shrouded wasteland below the Arctic peaks of the Zhokhov Islands. What they were building or why it should be located in such a remote and desolate place no one could say.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
President Merkin Muffley: You mean people could actually stay down there for a hundred years?
Dr. Strangelove: It would not be difficult, Mein Fuhrer. Nuclear reactors could... I'm sorry, Mr. President... nuclear reactors could provide power almost indefinitely.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A Memo from Scarlett Johansson

2007-07-02T22:19:00.000-06:00

"Hi. My name is Scarlett Johansson. I read 'The Sewing Circle' every morning with my tea. It's great, but I wish blogger Number Six (aka D. Elwood) would write a review of one of my films, such as 'Ghost World' or 'Lost in Translation'. I'm now working on a re-make of 'The Lair of the White Worm' directed by James Mason, who is quite a normal guy, really. I have the role played by Catherine Oxenberg in the original. That scene toward the end is really interesting, if you know what I mean. Anyway, I highly recommend 'The Sewing Circle'. Thank you."

Strong was my desire but thin was my wallet.....

2007-05-03T17:37:00.000-06:00

The display of the data link includes the current value notified by the server. A tuple is a heterogeneous list of behaviors (behaviors that can be different, such as a color behavior and an image behavior).

Only one process in a group of cooperating processes makes this call.

Things will happen to you from which you could not recover, if you lived a thousand years.

He's always hated hill dwarves - it was inevi-table that his hatred would someday be turned against Hillhome. Tying off the weave and loosing saidin brought only some relief.

This checks to see if the object exists and performs object typing.

Only one partition may be designated, at any given time, as active.
No matter what you do with it.

Nought's had, all's spent, Where our desire is got without content.

I was being followed and escorted.

It rings for a long time before she picks it up. I knew I didn't know the guy, but who can keep track.

All is lithogenesis

2007-03-29T17:03:00.000-06:00

Hugh MacDiarmid, ‘On a Raised Beach’

All is lithogenesis -- or lochia,
Carpolite fruit of the forbidden tree,
Stones blacker than any in the Caaba,
Cream-coloured caen-stone, chatoyant pieces,
Celadon and corbeau, bistre and beige,
Glaucous, hoar, enfouldered, cyathiform,
Making mere faculae of the sun and the moon,
I study you glout and gloss, but have
No cadrans to adjust you with, and turn again
From optik to haptik and like a blind man run
My fingers over you, arris by arris, burr by burr,
Slickensides, truité, rugas, foveoles,
Bringing my aesthesis in vain to bear,
An angle-titch to all your corrugations and coigns,
Hatched foraminous cavo-rilievo of the world,
Deictic, fiducial stones. Chiliad by chiliad
What bricole piled you here, stupendous cairn?

Back in 1981, while living in Cleveland, Evan used to mutter incessantly: "All is lithogenesis." Often times it was the first thing out of his mouth, followed by: "HAH!"

A horse is a horse, of course, of course

2007-03-23T23:34:00.000-06:00

Confused Citizen hasn't posted any pix of Jake lately so I thought I'd post the next best thing.

(rim shot)

So John Kerry walks into a bar, and the bartender says, "Why the long face?"

(budda boom, budda bing)

A Mug in Search of a Grotto

2007-02-06T13:25:00.000-07:00

Heh heh heh It's those famous Weimar republic "Comedian Harmonists"!

There Is No Other Way

2007-01-28T00:36:00.000-07:00

Because he said so.

"I Frankly Don't See What All The Fuss Is About."

2006-12-02T22:06:00.000-07:00

I flopped down to watch the Big 12 championship and after the first four series I started looking for the VHS of the 1996 Fiesta Bowl. After several minutes of searching in vain I noticed the copy of Capote that I'd picked up for seven bucks last week. I taped the game; I'll watch it tomorrow and mourn in full. I was totally taken in by the movie.

An artistic triumph on the perversity of the artistic process. A masterful execution (no pun intended) of spare writing, spare acting and spare cinematography. Exceptional.

Estrechos Desesperados

2006-11-20T12:25:00.000-07:00

Desperado was so awful that I cut my losses and gave up right after Tarantino's character had his brains splattered all over. If one of the crew here wants the DVD it's yours for the price of postage.

There's no future in trying to figure out a particular angle of criticism for this steaming load of celluloid. There's absolutely nothing about it that has the least redeeming feature.

I will point out one way in which they left no stone unturned in their awfulness. I often watch noisy movies with the sound relatively low and the subtitles on. I noticed that the subtitles were an even worse match for the audio than is usual for a cheap disk. Almost every line of dialog was inexplicably pared down, not for reasons of time, space or clarity, but for pure cussedness.

"Is that going on right now?" became "Is that now?" "He's dead, boss" became "He's dead." In both instances there was plenty of screen time for an accurate rendering and the cut impaired the exposition in a tiny but meaningful way. Why? The only thing I can figure is that someone wanted to leave no doubt that the joke was on the customer.

Friday Night Update

2006-11-18T19:03:00.000-07:00

After having the oddest experience at a bigbox hardware store, I'm now watching "Desperdo," one of the worst movies ever made (Broadway Frolics of 1932 is a close second). I was lumbered with a copy of it in a 2-for-1 deal with a movie that I actually wanted to see.

Full report later.

Have You Seen This Man?

2006-11-15T14:56:00.000-07:00

Calling all cabs! Have you seen this man, last seen driving Yellow Cab 69er, after pouring a shotglass of Wild Turkey into the gas tank. . . Rumors of his demise may have been greatly exagerated.

Has been known to be even-ly tempered. Lisa does not believe he is dead, as she searched for the death certificate and found none. . .

If anyone could have pulled of faking his own death, it was Even. Perhaps he digitized himself and is living in one of his videogames. It still doesn't seem right that he isn't around. Still, he always had the talent of seeking one out and showing up when it was least expected. I'll never forget the time he showed up in Santa Cruz out of nowhere. How the heck did he find me? I'll never know. We attended a class at UCSC, where one of the coeds was sunbathing in the nude (pretty much). We had a hard time concentrating on the subject. I still don't remember what the class was about.

Since we are s'pozed to be incognito, here is a picture of me in disguise. Still, I think some of you might recognize me. At least my beard was dark back then. Now it's t'arning grey, jus' like the Souf's colors.

They say a grey head is a crown of glory. Let's hope I have enough hair left to turn grey.

The weather for the last gig was exceptional. It was November on top of a mountain in Souf Carolina. Other than the wind, it was very pleasant. Still, I can't help wishing that I got to play a little more than I did. I reckon you'll get to hear about it some more. For now, you'll have to be content with "The Professor and Bill at the Professor's Laboratory One Evening":http://www.stlucas.com/stench/perfessor.mp3

You Know Yur Tarnin' Suthern when U

2006-11-03T16:14:00.000-07:00

"Y'all need ta hesh up!", I exclaimed to my chil'ren. I couldn't believe my ears. I was speaking Southern to my class. I guess they mus'n riled me and I done lost control of myself.

What surprised me the most is that they listened to me. I guess I must be l'arnin' the language.

It is a particular dialect, much like others. Being from the Midwest, we didn't have an accent. However, I'm starting to accent with the best of 'em. . . somewhere between Martin Sheen in "Gettysburg" and Ernest T. Bass in "Andy of Mayberry.

BTW, they still watch Andy of Mayberry here. It's on Saturday night at 7 PM. . . prime time. Everybody know who Ernest T. Bass is, he was Professor Littleoldman in "High Anxiety".

Seriously, it's like a garden here. Everything is "Feng Shuyed" like they knew what they were doing. We're currently looking for newer accommodations, as it is noisy on North Main. Perhaps on South Main, the more "hip" end of town, we may be happier.

I'm starting to get gigs playing music. I've only had two or three so far since I've hit town. However, I'm pretty sure that it will pick up. I've been starting to get my "one man band" together, with the help of some pre-recorded rhythm tracks from my 8-track digital recorder.

However, with the help of the friendly and helpful staff, we're managing to get gigs. We've got one gig tomorrow at a Japanese Tea parlor, and one next Saturday here on the mountain. We're going to be powered by some outfit selling solar power. It ought to be a hoot.

You haven't lived till you've seen the Southern Belles in their Halloween costumes. It's downright titillating. . . Fortunately, the misses stayed home that night. As I told her, "You can't help the birds flying over your head, but you can stop them from making a nest in your hair." She seemed mildly quieted by that platitudinous remark. However, I'm sure that I haven't heard the last of it. \

My nephew's wife carved a name in a punkin. I found out what happened to the 'p' in punkin. It wound up in "Clempson". (Clemson) A little local humor.

Ah gots to roll. Lots of people want to hear about the stars.

Ciao, babes!

You heard it here first...

2006-10-21T22:35:00.000-06:00

...Sofia Coppola...

They Don't Write Them Like This Anymore.

2006-10-21T21:48:00.000-06:00

Well, actually they do, and on a very regular basis. Same old crap in a new wrapper.

-=+=-

Pup and I have a weakness for old low-budget movies.

Young and vivacious Miss Joyce Manning, sister of Col. Glenn (The Amazing Colossal Man) Manning lives in hope that her brother did not die after being riddled with bazooka rounds and falling off the Hoover Dam, but is now footloose in Mexico. Alas, no one will believe her.

We now join her, Dr. Carmichael, Maj. Mark Baird and Sgt. Luis Murillo out in the Mexican boonies as they examine a giant footprint:

Dr. Carmichael awkwardly holds his foot out and ventures: "The foot that made that print was about ten times the size of a normal man. That would make him about sixty feet tall."

Miss Manning forcefully and hopefully interjects: "Glenn was sixty feet tall!"

As opposed to all the fifty-eight foot monsters running amuck in Baja California.

The movie goes downhill from there. Everyone seems to be afflicted with what I will call the Ho-Hum Syndrome. We've talked about this before. Yes, one man's entire physiology has been monstrously changed in ways previously undreamed of, turning science on its head...

But now the general response one of stumbling ennui coupled with a vague desire to know who is headlining the Sullivan show this week.

It's like a Bond picture.

HHS occurs on a regular basis in popular fiction. A recent example is in the second Spiderman movie. Semi-controlled hot fusion on a macro basis is witnessed by many. Instead of the entire petroleum price structure collapsing like a cardboard suitcase, instead of venture capitalists hiring bulldozers to plow their way though to throw trillions of dollars at anyone in the general vicinity, instead of the world blazing its way to a new and uncertain future....

We go get a slice, kick back on a bench and patiently await the next outrage by the latest superpowered mass-murdering fiend on the loose.

Look for him? Please!

We got a story to tell.

Sometime in the 1980’s

2006-10-20T13:37:00.000-06:00

Sometime in the 1980’s (the decade of Reagan, Iran Contra, MTV, Madonna, "Thriller", Peter Gabriel music, and AIDS) Fred Van Housen (pictured above) made several voyages to the mountaintop villages of Machu Picchu (also pictured above). Apparently, during these trips Fred was revered by the local inhabitants as some type of Fire-God. It was there in Machu Picchu that Fred recorded his internationally best-selling song, “Sleepytime in ...”. In this recording, produced on a synthesizer by Captain Hogfat, Fred was accompanied by backup vocalists “Betsy and the Weiner-ettes”. Electric accordion was played by R. Srnoda. K-Car may have performed as well. (There is also film footage of musicians destroying a television by the highway.)

Following those experiences, Fred went on to sell insurance in Chicago. It was there that he unfortunately fell to his death from the top of the Sears Tower.

All hail Fred Van Housen! A true Christ in the 1980’s!

El nuevo principio.

2006-10-07T22:46:00.000-06:00

Finally

2006-09-14T20:50:00.000-06:00

It'll come off Saturday evening just before we sit down to my birthday dinner. I've been avoiding trimming it for the last coupla weeks and it's really getting out of hand. Even the kids make fun of it. If you happen to be in town, stop in for BBQ.

¡Basta!

2006-09-14T20:46:00.000-06:00

“¡Que el conejo de mierda hizo pis en mi cerveza otra vez!”

MESSAGES FROM SWAMI SRI SVOBODANANDA

2006-09-11T12:48:00.000-06:00

“Let all beings be happy; let all beings be peaceful; let all beings be blissful.”

"Let your mind dwell on some holy personality ─ a Buddha, a Christ, a Ramakrishna, a Dylan, a Lennon, a Van Housen, a Martin Weiner. Then concentrate upon his heart. Try to imagine how it must feel to be a great saint; pure and untroubled by sense-objects, a knower of Brahman [supreme Reality]. Try to feel that the saint’s heart has become your heart, within your own body. "

http://www.ramakrishna.org/message20.htm

Damned Wevisionist Wabbit

2006-09-10T00:37:00.000-06:00

You're On OUR Roster!

2006-09-10T00:33:00.000-06:00

Bwah-hah-haw-haw!!

Now Comes The Real Test

2006-09-09T12:35:00.000-06:00

After some cost/benefit ruminations we dumped our cable subscription last spring. It was a simple matter to reroute the coax and install an antenna in the attic.

Doing without the programming was surprisingly painless, even for the kids. I did miss baseball for a while, but I got over that (check the standings). I wasn't worried about the Donx because the local station broadcasts all games, even the ones that ESPN has primary rights to.

But I didn't reckon with college football. (sigh) I just got off the phone after wangling an invite to watch the CU/CSU game at a friend's house this afternoon.

One day at a time.

Enquiring Minds Want to Know

2006-09-09T12:27:00.000-06:00

I had every intention of completing my Chicken-Blogging with a demonstration of how to butterfly a bird for the oven a coupla weeks ago, but I ran into some Creative Differences issues with my photographer during the shoot. She favored detail over context and some key frames came out looking like an alien autopsy.

We will try again.

Who's on what roster?!?

2006-09-08T13:45:00.000-06:00

So I sez to Mabel, I sez, WHO'S ON WHAT ROSTER!!!!!

Meanwhile, in an Alternate Universe...

2006-09-04T08:49:00.000-06:00

The Recent Future

2006-09-01T13:31:00.000-06:00

THE RECENT FUTURE

At a kitchen table in some small town in America, a young man (pictured here) offers a cup of coffee to his elderly companion.

“Uh, a cup of coffee, Professor?”

The Professor appears distracted, looking askance while fidgeting with his slide rule and mutters, “Hmm, yes, Bill, apparently so.”

“So Professor,” continues Bill, “Do you think Man will ever return to the Moon?”

Once again distracted the Professor stares out the window and says, “Hmm, well Bill, they say that Uranus is a huge gaseous giant!”

“But what about returning to the Moon, professor?”

“Hmm, well, yes, err, definitely sometime in the recent future. Yes, in the recent future, certainly!” (mumbles... slackjawed ... ...) (three dots)

Heh heh heh.

Astronomers say Pluto is not a planet!

2006-08-24T13:31:00.000-06:00

The comment from two local astronomers (pictured here) was: "It's an outrage! An OUTRAGE!!"

Where's Davy Crockett When You Need Him?

2006-08-20T00:41:00.000-06:00

The grapes on the east side of the sun porch are ripening early this year.

He's not snarling, he's just trying to choke down a huge mouthful of my grapes.

They weren't bothered a bit by the flash or my presence on the other side of the window.

I was tempted to grab a box of .22 shorts and be done with them, but they were just too small to make decent hats out of.

Now I Get It

2006-08-18T00:50:00.000-06:00

I finally figured out who Heinlein reminds me of -- he's the guy, the mailman, sitting down at the end of the bar in the old TV show Cheers. He's Cliff Clavin.

Cheap Beer, Cheap Cigars, Cheap Boots.

2006-08-12T21:56:00.000-06:00

The horror that is Amerika.

communism smolders...

2006-08-09T21:20:00.000-06:00

I note that the former paradise of one of our members has banned the sale of some soft drinks.....coke, pepsi, etc. I assume the aromatic fruit drinks offered to one of our own as the hut assumed shape on the sand banks will not be affected

KFAB, 8:17 AM, Nov. 6th, 1961

2006-08-05T22:52:00.000-06:00

Dumplings and kraut today
At Bohemian Café
Draft beer that’s sparkling, plenty of parking
See you at lunch, Okay?

Those Damn Cooks, They're Trying to Kill Me!

2006-08-01T17:04:00.000-06:00

"I never authorized a sliced, hard-cooked egg on my salads!"

http://www.mspubomaha.com/

Friday Night Update (cont'd (cont'd))

2006-07-30T12:47:00.000-06:00

In answer to the first question ("What the heck do I do with it now?") there are options: carnitas, pulled pork or plain pork roast. To make it perfect, get a large roasting pan with a rack (I use a rusty old cooling rack that's larger than the pan), very carefully (it tends to fall apart at this point) transfer the meat to the rack, pull the shoulder blade out, hose it (the roast) down with cooking spray and put it back in the oven at 400F for 45 minutes. Turn it down a little if it smokes. This will crisp up the outside and render a little more fat.

While it's still hot, rip the roast up with a coupla forks in a big bowl and season it with chile, onion, garlic, etc for carnitas or with vinegar-based BBQ sauce for pulled pork. If you serve it as a roast, don't forget the applesauce. Lotsa applesauce. Let it rest for twenty minutes when carving as a roast; otherwise it will just fall apart.

In answer to the second question, yes, your oven does have a setting for 180F, it's just not clearly marked. On mine it's the "m" in "Warm."

Take any large oven-proof vessel with a close-fitting lid, put in a gallon or so of water in it and pop it in the oven. Set the dial on the "m." Come back in a few hours and check the water temp with a good thermometer. Adjust the oven up or down and check again in another coupla hours. Repeat as needed. When you get it right mark the dial.

For leftover roast: Dice meat 1/2" to 3/4", brown well in skillet with lotsa diced onions. Add soy sauce, black pepper and Five Spices seasoning, toss until mixed. Add any combination of celery, napa, bok choy and/or cabbage, toss until the greens wilt. Serve over rice.

Friday Night Update (cont'd)

2006-07-30T01:28:00.000-06:00

Friday Night Update

2006-07-28T23:23:00.000-06:00

A 15" x 5" cast aluminum pan with one jumbo yellow onion, sliced, five cloves of garlic, sliced, a buncha crushed red and whole black pepper and a tablespoon or two of liquid smoke.

Add two Boston Butt pork shoulders, ~15 pounds.

Into the oven, covered, at about 180F for fourteen hours. Continued tomorrow...

2006-07-24T22:55:00.000-06:00

I always favored "Have Space Suit, Will Travel", but then that hero favors twelve year olds too.

I was twelve at the time. Seemed ok to me.

Jake's growing to be the right size. Will be getting a trailer for him soon. Decided the Astro will be a willing wagon for him. Besides, it's paid for. Sending the boy to school in October. Hope he gets more out of it than I, at least in terms of following established procedures. He needs to learn leg cues.

I hope he can take a shotgun off his back. Think it will be a lovely combination for grouse season. Let ya'll know how it works out.

Happy hunting to all in the circle, eh? Don't point 'em INTO the center, please.

Friday Night Update

2006-07-21T15:41:00.000-06:00

I was going to blog on "Hearts of Darkness" which I watched last week, but in the meantime I picked up the copy of "Stranger in a Strange Land" that's been drifting around the puter room for the last few years (I think Spud left it here). The evening was late, but hadn't yet cooled off enough for comfortable snoozing so I started reading.

The first half was just as I remembered it from back in the late sixties: pure corn. The cloyingly cutsie-wootsie banter; the sitcom sterility of Heinlein's idea of paradise in the Poconos; the painfully crafted innocent nobility; the odd (even for 1961) featherheadedness and dependence on men of the womenfolk. For all that, the chase plot was fun, with Michael saving the day and Jubal twisting the tails of the Powers That Be. Then we get to the second half.

Even when I was a brainless teenager I found the "Church of All Worlds, Inc." segment foolish and tiresome, but reading it now also brings a good whiff of the loathsome stench of Jonestown, the Solar Temple, Heaven's Gate, etc with it. Thirty-some years ago I finished the book just to see how it turned out. Didn't bother this time.

I'm now tackling "Starship Troopers," a "Controversial Classic of Military Adventure." Hmm. I'm two thirds of the way thru it and still waiting patiently for a smidgen of either controversy or adventure. The central figure, "Johnny," is a nullity; he has no personality, no inner life, no imagination, no intellect, no relationships, no desires, no vices, no nothing. The story would be better without him, I think, except that Heinlein needs him hanging around to hear (or overhear) steaming heaps of pompous sermonizing from his betters.

The book does clear up some confusion that I had about the wrenchingly godawful Verhoeven movie version: Why, oh why would an interstellar military force consist solely of footslogging infantry? Why no tactical or strategic air cover, tanks, artillery, mortars, armored ground transport, etc? You know, all the basic battle-deciding military hardware that might keep those poorly armed and virtually defenseless troops from getting chopped to ribbons by twenty foot tall bugs every single time they went into combat.

In the book, the troops individually *are* all of those things each in their own personal two-ton-armored-jumping-flying-grenade-projecting-flame-throwing-rocket-launching suit complete with low-yield nukes. I guess Verhoeven decided to leave out the one thing that would have made the battle sequences in the movie at least mildly rational because, having already made "Robocop," he didn't want to be tagged in Hollywood as "That Robot Suit Director."

More later, if and when I finish the book.

Blame it on the 70's

2006-07-18T17:35:00.000-06:00

Pictured above are, from left Henry Microfarad aka C-Baba and next to him A. Srnoda aka R. Srnoda aka Hans Castorp aka Nicholas Stavrogin (yes that was his real hair). They were members of the Omaha-based proto-punk band called “Chimbley’s Butt” which became “The Oxcart Creek Band” which begat “Evil Death” which recorded as “The Stench Band” which then could have morphed into “Plastic Ono Traveling Silver Wilberries” which subsequently mutated into something else entirely.

Rumor has it that their set lists included “Mr. Plaster,” “Be So Cruel,” “Holiday in Omaha,” “The Dead”, “Take Me to the Bughouse,” “Veteran’s Day Poppy,” “Split Endz,” “The Brain Police”, “Doggie Gardens,” “Disaster at C,” “Through It All,” “King Neptune’s Tapeworm,” Wildman Fisher’s “Merry-go-round,” “The Happy Leper,” “Cowboy Burt,” “A Wee Deoch-An’ Doris,” “Little Deuce Coupe,” “The Recent Future”, and their hit “Dry Heaves in Blair, Nebraska”.

The band once played at the Glenwood Home for the Mentally Insane, the Stockyards Ballroom, and Papillion’s world-famous Cabay Lounge all in the same week. In fact, when C-Baba started up the band at the Cabay Lounge, his first words were, “Do you mind if we’re louder than the TV?” Hey, what can I say? It was the 70’s.

P.S. Has anyone seen Roger?

Fort 'o July in the Land o' Cotton

2006-07-09T14:09:00.000-06:00

This was my first Forth of July in Souf Carolina, where the men are amiable, and the women are handsome and buxom. My wife sez that it's all the warm weather and sunshine that makes their breasts grow so large. There might be something to that. It shore is a sight to behold.

Fireworks are a big thing here, even bigger than in Council Bluffs, IA, where they start shooting them off in May and finish around August. I even managed to cap off a few rounds from my .45 ACP in the back yard into an earthen berm there. The neighbor responded with his 9mm, unloading all 13 rounds (must have been a Browning HP or a Glock).

At any rate, one firework dealer here was advertising a free Bible with every purchase. It was probably a King James version, but you never know, it may have been a New International. While you can pop a cap just about anywhere in the county, downtown Greenville doesn't allow much in the way of disturbances. Oh, after 2PM when the bars close, they allow the drunks to whoop and holler for a half-hour or so before the police send them home, but they don't allow fireworks downtown without a permit. I did not test their resolve on this issue, as I am on good terms with the men in blue and do not wish to change that. Still, I saw a very nice display from the roof-top of my parking garage. I was appx. five seconds away from the explosions, judging by the time differential between flash and report.

You seem to be able to get most any type of fireworks in the county, but you can't light them off just anywhere. I was a bit disappointed, but then again, did I really need to breath all that black powder?

South Carolina has a lot of Hist'ry. One of the final wars of the Revolutionay War took place not fourty miles from here at the "Cowpens", just this side of Gaffney. Fort Sumpter, where the first shots of the "War of the Yankee Agression" began happened not far from here. I do not consider myself a Yankee living in a Southern state at this point, but rather, it seems up till las' y'ar, I was a Southerner living in a Yankee state. At any rate, thass how it seems.

RBFM

2006-07-08T21:02:00.000-06:00

Damn, are my eyes are bleeding? Look...

No? Really? It feels like it...

Anyone who crows about the demise of the studio system should be chained up and forced to watch an endless loop of Billy Bob smoking the same f**king Chesterfield for a month or two. Or else watch "The Man Who Wasn't There." Same difference.

Painful. Grueling. Torturous.

Pardon me, I gotta go watch Blood Simple and drink heavily.

Bob? Here Bob!

2006-07-07T00:09:00.000-06:00

PBS's "American Masters" is featuring a detailed 2-part biography of Bob Dylan, directed by Martin Scorsese. Bob Dylan himself gives his own commentary (such as it is) as his story unfolds. The first part was last week; this week's has already started airing. I clicked on it by accident, while I was switching between "Apocalypse Now Redux" on TNT and Noam Chomsky lecturing at West Point on Just War Theory. Chomsky was, by the way, applauded enthusiatically by the cadets.

But I digress. The Bob Dylan documentary promises to shed light on the enigmatic wunderkind: Is Bob Dylan human? and if so, what might it signify for the rest of us?

Friday Night Update (cont'd)

2006-06-11T22:47:00.000-06:00

Just finished watching "Apocalypse Now Redux" for strictly scholarly purposes. What a tiresome load of dreck. Coppola succeeded in making the wretched original even more wretched. The dime-store philosophy, the stoner sensibility, the trite gibberish passed off as profundity -- wotta mess. It even fails as propaganda; the only rational conclusion is that if opponents of the war were this dizzy, there must be something to be said for the other side.

I'd like to find a copy of "Hearts of Darkness," the "making-of" movie; I saw most of it on TV about ten years ago and it goes a long way in exploring the pathology of this sort of tripe.

Friday Night Update (Nothing, If Not Eclectic)

2006-06-11T01:51:00.000-06:00

Back again. Pup and The Boss are out east for a coupla weeks to attend the wedding of her 1st L-T nephew (Armored -- he commands (sorta, when they let him) a squad of hummers) and do some sight- and relative-seeing, so Spud and I are baching it. Spud has his learner's permit and his first job (scut worker at a downtown multiplex) so he's well on his way to becoming a menace to society.

Anyhoo, I should have some more time over the next ten days or so to chicken-blog (I keep forgetting to take pictures), reveal The Secret to home-cooking good pulled pork and also to berate #6 for never posting. Then I need to take a coupla days to clean up the bachelor pad and replace the plants we forgot to water.

(Jeepus, I just remembered the neph sitting on my lap as a toddler tooting the air horn in my big truck when I visited his folks in Iowa twenty-some years ago. We're gettin' old, ain't we?)

Time for some media plugs.

Just finished watching "The Fifth Element" by Luc "Too-High" Besson.

Now listening to Savoy Brown, Blind Faith, Joni Mitchell, Jesus Jones, Bent, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Jorane, Maroon 5, Tears For Fears and "Men of Harlech"

Not necessarily in that order.

Now eating Four Bean Salad.

Now drinking PBR.

FORGOTTEN QUOTES FROM A FORGOTTEN TIME, A FORGOTTEN TOWN

2006-05-25T12:27:00.000-06:00

“Those damn cooks, they’re trying to kill me.”

“I never authorized sliced, hard-cooked eggs in my salads.”

“My crab legs are the best in town.”

“Please, please, the bees!”

"Goldfish gobble it up!" (-- Goyo, 1971)

"Traduce not the slave who is beneath you." (Number 6, 1978)

"Don't give any food to Henry Chinaski!"

Juiced, Steroid-addled Freak Ties Legendary Record

2006-05-22T13:16:00.000-06:00

By the way Barry Bonds was the first player in history to hit more home runs at age 38 than he hit at age 28. He’s literally a medical miracle.

How much of this “record” should be attributed to his chemist?

He has made a mockery of what has been the traditional battle between two individuals: the pitcher and the batter.

I think anyone who thinks Bonds deserves this record should immediately force feed steroids to their own children.

It’s time to throw Bonds out of baseball, NOW, you fools!

Friday Night Update

2006-05-21T10:54:00.000-06:00

Only two days late. Don't expect this sort of service every time.

Best NC Syncophant Site:

You can pay twelve bucks plus postage for the eighty minute lecture or you can download the whole deranged thing for free. Your call. It really is classic stuff; very moving.

(I was going to burn a CD of it for Comrade Six until I remembered that, being a true revolutionary, he doesn't have a CD player.)

Best Antidote To WC (you'll need it):

All Goon -- All The Time

You'll need a PLS-capable player. XMPlay is by far and away the best; no competition. I dunno, I suppose Mac users will have to scrape by with RealPlayer.

Friday Nite Update (from last Friday)

2006-05-18T12:39:00.000-06:00

Best (and fuzziest) Bettie Page site:

Definitely Not Safe For Work

Best (and funniest) Nancy Pelosi site:

Definitely Not Safe For Work if spitting your coffee out on the control panel will cause a Homer Simpson-type meltdown.

(I've stripped out the audio and saved it to play whenever I'm demoralized by the bumbling of the Republican party. It cheers me right up.)

Yes, NC Is Still A Vicious S#|t-Weasel:

Chomsky Meets with Hizbullah Leaders

WHO IS THIS MAN??

2006-05-12T12:54:00.000-06:00

the one true descendant of Jesus Christ?
heh heh heh

Yikes!

2006-05-11T13:18:00.000-06:00

I rise up from my bed of pain after three weeks (the second course of antibiotics did the trick) to check the supposedly anonymous blog and what do I find, but that Little Mitka has posted some crudely PhotoShopped forgery purporting to show a certain member of the Sewing Circle in a compromising position at a notorious catfishhouse. It almost spoiled my morning peppermint tea break.

Hamms the Beer Refreshing

2006-05-11T09:45:00.000-06:00

From the land of sky blue waters (wa-ah-ters)
Comes the beer refreshing
Hamms, the beer refreshing
Hamms!

(Goyo's younger brother Alfredo was also spotted at the same gala event.)

Jake

2006-04-29T22:10:00.000-06:00

We didn't get to the Big Island, but we did get a Big Horse. His name is Jake, he's a Belgian who worked as a youth with both cart and saddle. Seems to like people, wants something to do, and I do not feel like I'm overloading him.

Now we need a vehicle that can take a class three hitch rated for a couple of ton.

I gotta get a job.

I Don't Hold With Heroin.

2006-04-23T02:56:00.000-06:00

However, were I a junky, I would never listen to anything but "As You Fall" by Bent.

Where's Goyo?

2006-04-23T00:56:00.000-06:00

Good (not great) night at the ball park.

Cook looked a little unsteady on the mound, but didn't allow many base runners and only gave up a few solo shots before the fielding started falling apart; blown DP (everybody safe), three (count 'em) come-backers bobbled (everybody safe) -- then the Giants muffed a few late and the winning run was at the plate in the bottom of the ninth with two outs but...

No repeat of last night when they laid four on 'em in the ninth to win. Oh, well. Bonds got booed and every at-bat was exponentially louder. I kept turning around expecting to see Dima.

Throw Dmitri Karamazov Out of Baseball Untill He Gets A Football Team

2006-04-15T21:18:00.000-06:00

We Got Flange!

2006-04-15T21:01:00.000-06:00

After twenty years I finally got tired of the evil ways of the basement crapper and took it down.

The swine who installed (or possibly reinstalled) it had chiseled off the old flange and set the wax ring on naked concrete. The effluent almost always went down the soil pipe, but in high summer (especially when the attic fan was on) there would be a vague and taunting memory of barnyards past.

Not exactly the von of lime-flower tea.

Anyway, I installed a nifty PVC replacement flange with expanding seal and used a horrific and highly effective two-part water-resistant putty (it smells like a burning chemical factory for the half-hour it takes to cure) to try to level the floor. Of the old hi-flo Borg/Warner, I threw away everything that wasn't porcelain, scrubbed the remains with a brass brush and when it was all back together, well, if I'd have been able to find a freebie mp3 host you'd hear what's-his-name from Full Metal Jacket exclaiming that some sainted figure would be proud to use it.

THROW BARRY BONDS OUT OF BASEBALL

2006-04-12T13:07:00.000-06:00

It's time to throw Barry Bonds out of baseball, and to expunge from the books the "records" that he and steroid-addled McGuire supposedly "broke". Maybe then baseball will return to the concept of fair play. Is there, finally, no decency in baseball?

I'm Back...

2006-04-12T12:10:00.000-06:00

...and I'm Beautiful!

I've been offline for about four weeks. Won't bore you with the details, but with one thing or another I just got out of the habit. We were also out of town for a coupla days and were able to do some plinking. Pup, Spud and their cousin went thru ~900 rds of 22LR and Pup was introduced to revolver shooting. Being that she's still kinda tiny she has trouble with double-action and has to thumb the hammer back for every shot, but she enjoyed it immensely.

When I get done mail-sorting, I shall return.

2006-04-06T22:11:00.000-06:00

The Sewing Circle

The Place where the News Hounds Howl!!!!!!!

Burke's oldest brother does it again!!! She's smart, she's photogenic, she's his age...so what the hell is he doing? Take a look at his face and say........

BREAKING NEWS (2)

2006-04-06T15:46:00.000-06:00

A veritable, virtual whirlwind of activity in the "Sewing Circle".......

RED-HAIRED DOSTOEVSKY FOUND LIVING IN INTERNET (see above)

BREAKING NEWS

2006-04-06T14:00:00.000-06:00

Breaking news supplied to you from the blog read by no one.

Rare photo of John Lennon and Joan Baez found (see above)!
Tom DeLay says: "I'm not a crook!"
Las Vegas man claims to have found "lost" virginity!
Xeiner/McGowan nuptials announced!!
New "Weiner Wagon" franchise to issue IPO!
Fossilized remains of Roy the Dog to be displayed at 7-11!

The Odd Thing Is...

2006-03-19T00:11:00.000-07:00

...that in this picture, I'm actually smiling.

And I still can't figure out what we're doing with this blog.

# six has promised to do some movie-blogging, that's what I thought I would mostly do, but it hasn't happened yet.

Drunk-blogging doesn't work, politics is a dead-end, GWN and OC are holding the bridges, so I guess I should shuffle my notes and prepare to speak my mind about that horrific atrocity, "Once Upon a Time in the.....

Science fiction movies for people who don't like science fiction

2006-03-18T21:54:00.000-07:00

Hey droogs, I have a few essential SF movies for people who hate science fiction - but would like to know what it's about!

The Weiner Wagon

2006-03-15T17:22:00.000-07:00

Please visit the following site: http://www.wisinfo.com/dailytribune/wrdtlocal/305093798241342.shtml

for information on "The Weiner Wagon". heh heh heh

And I quote: "I'm a weiner-aholic." And aren't we all? Number 6, are you getting this?

Golly...

2006-03-11T23:51:00.000-07:00

...no drunk-blogging tonite. I just spent a frustrating half-hour trying to sign on to a free audio hosting outfit and it seems that they don't quite believe that I'm being perfectly honest as to who I might be. To their loss.

So you're not going to hear my groundbreaking Harry Lauder remix.

Well, maybe more chicken-blogging tomorrow.

Just A Wee Deoch an' Doris

2006-03-09T12:58:00.000-07:00

Just A Wee Deoch-an-Doris Words and music by Harry Lauder, Whit Cunliffe, Gerald Grafton submitted by Betty Lauder Hamilton

Lyrics copied from the excellent website www.sirharrylauder.com

A "wee deoch an' doris" is, of course, a little drink at the door before going. Harry Lauder was a great singer, a great entertainer, a great humanitarian, and a great man. Aye! In the Great War he entertained troops in the trenches in France, coming under enemy fire. He raised huge sums for war charities and also paid for uniforms for British troops out of his own pocket. For these and other activities he was later knighted by King George V in 1919. God bless ye, Harry!

verse 1
There's a good old Scottish custom, that has stood the test of time,
It's a custom that is carried out in ev'ry land and clime.
Where brother Scots fore-gather, it's aye the usual thing.
When just before they say guid-nicht, they fill their cups and sing-

Chorus
Just a wee deoch-an-doris, just a wee dram that's a'
Just a wee deoch-an-doris before we gang a-wa'
There's a wee wifie waitin', in a wee but an ben (a "but an ben" is a small cottage)
If you can say, "It's a braw bricht moonlicht nicht"
well ye a'richt ye ken

verse 2
I like a man that is a man, a man that's straight and fair,
The sort of man that will and can, in all things do his share
I like a man, a jolly man, the sort o' man you know,
The chap that slaps your back and says "Here Jock, before you go- "

chorus

verse 3 (This verse doesn't appear on any of the many recordings I have.)
I'll invite you all some other nicht, to come and bring your wives.
I'll promise you the grandest time you'll have in all your lives!
I'll hae the bagpipes skirling, (hoch) and we'll dance the Hieland fling.
And just for auld acquaintance sake, we'll a' unite and sing-

chorus repeat

Check for other lyrics to other great songs such as "I Love a Lassie" on www.sirharrylauder.com .

An Interesting Development

2006-03-08T10:02:00.000-07:00

It turns out that, except when I'm drunk-blogging, I'm too lazy to post. This will require some hard thought...

The Sewing Circle

2006-03-06T18:28:00.000-07:00

The Sewing Circle

A wonderful 51st held at my home. Poker was the theme, with large jars of pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters up for grabs. No crispy chicken was served, but copiuos quantities of sour cream and spinach, roots and pickles, petroleum based cheeses with hamburgers and jalapenos in a crock pot and chips/bread/vegatables were consumed along with a keg of Pale Ale from our local (and nationaly renouned) Summet Brewery were consumed. Happy Birthday to All!!

Well...

2006-03-04T23:28:00.000-07:00

...there isn't a lick that Jay-Bee hit that wasn't straight out of Noam's published works, so I assume that # six is gonna scoot way back in the weeds so's to not get sprayed with any of the cat pee whizzing around.

Or he could post.

Prolly not.

Gee Whizz

2006-03-04T22:36:00.000-07:00

In the time it takes me to scope the blog with my dialup you gunsels could post four or five times!

Every now and then some artsy-fartsy blog posts a link to a to some sorry sumbitch that started a blog back in '99.

He posts a wake-up call to the world about how his blog is going to bust the lid offa things and then...

And then he acts like you mutts and goes off into the weeds.

You were online yesterday, right? You saw something amusing, right?

POST the f**king thing.

Or answer to me.

It's free, but you can't be bothered...

2006-03-04T22:02:00.000-07:00

So nobody else's got anything to say about Bennish. I do, however.

Insofar as I can tell, he's shockingly far from the norm. Of Pup and Spud's teachers over these many years I'd bet that 95% have never even considered voting for a Republican and there's only one I know of that has forthrightly claimed to be one, but the kids have never once reported anything vaguely close to the crazed outburst recorded.

One of Spud's favorite teachers, in unguarded moments, lets fly with his personal opinion that 9/11 was a conspiracy at the highest levels, but spends almost all his teaching time mightily belaboring his charges into using their brains for something other than holding their ears apart, constantly challenging them from every direction. Spud loves him and so do I. God bless'im.

Of the teachers I've managed to steer my kids away from (by bullying whichever principal, who without fail opened the discussion by stating categorically that there would be no "teacher-shopping" and always ended by acquiescing completely) there was not one that was skidded for political reasons.

Soapbox nutbars like Bennish have nothing at all to do with my dissatisfaction with the pubic school system in my town. It has everything to do with the brazen incompetents who get up every morning, suit up, look at themselves in the mirror and go to work at a decent wage and a fabulous benefit package who simply can't do their job. I've met too many.

They don't know how to think. They don't know how to speak. They don't know how to write. And they sure as heck don't know how to teach. The woods are full of them.

If this seems ungenerous, be assured that it's just experience. I've met with tenured teachers that couldn't spell common words in basic English. I've met with tenured teachers that couldn't discern between basic arithmetical signs. I've met with tenured teachers that I wouldn't trust to take out the garbage in the cafeteria. I've gotten my kids away from these mutts, yet the mutts still flourish. And they will be gumming their zwieback fifty years from now on my nickle. And your's.

It's obvious from listening to Bennish that he's incompetent. What we don't and won't hear is those many teachers who express their incompetence in more acceptable ways.

The current Bennish folderol is a dead end in the question of the fitness of any of our public school teachers. For every sui generis like Bennish there is a whole flock (my guess -- 15%) of incompetent timeservers who can't be shifted from the trough.

If Bennish moves on to greener pastures, I'll be pleased. If there is a tiny handful of other nutbar teachers like him who are chastened into avoiding his mistakes, I'll be pleased. But the mass of deadweight won't be moved. The problems of public schooling, and they are monstrous and manifold, are being nowhere addressed by this frenzy and likely never will be in my life.

Go figure.

I Know It's Wrong, But I'm Weak.

2006-03-01T20:52:00.000-07:00

This MP3 file is not to be missed. (warning: 20 meg)

Pop quiz:

1) What country is the world's leading tobacco producer?

2) How many other errors can you spot?

3) What class is the speaker teaching?

4) Who might his favorite author be?

Back later with the particulars.

Branching out

2006-02-28T20:30:00.000-07:00

It's still my plan to blog mainly about chicken, but I'll throw this link in just to keep it interesting.

GOYO'S KITCHEN TIPS # 1

2006-02-18T13:32:00.000-07:00

Baked/roasted chicken is my favorite way to feed a lot of people with minimum labor and expense. We had ten at the table last night and I served three birds in three styles -- plain jane, spicy rub, BBQ -- along with rice, black beans and corn.

One of the problems I've found with serving multiple roast chickens is in the carving. It's best done at the table with the birds straight out of the oven; the wonderful contrast between crispy skin and juicy meat is the whole point of roasting a chicken and it's lost if you let the bird "rest" or pile the cut portions in a serving dish.

For me, trying to wrestle the meat off the steaming hot carcass while diners are naming their preferences is a frustrating, messy display at best and portioning before baking results in a much less succulent finished product. The solution to my dilemma is to butterfly the bird, roast it flat and then just section the carcass into portions at the table rather than carve. The pieces go straight on a platter large enough to accommodate them all without stacking and while that goes around the table I attack the next one and so down the line.

While this method encumbers the diners' plates with bone and gristle that carving would remove, it also retains all the juices that make perfectly roasted chicken such a delight. More importantly, it reduces the oven-to-plate time to the bare minimum and all of my consumer feedback indicates that the tradeoff is well worth it.

(To Be Continued)

How 'bout those Curlers, eh?

2006-02-16T10:17:00.000-07:00

Olympic coverage is lovely to do housework to. But of all the coverage to date, I gotta give my vote to curling. The languid conferences before the shot. The geologic time scale of the throw. The mad scubbing of the ice as the stone slooowwwly arcs toward the target. The one foot push up and down the ice. Hope ya'll have had a chance to catch a game or two.

2006-02-08T13:06:00.000-07:00

Here's one for DB that I've been meaning to send for a while. Later tonite I'll try to figure out how all this crap actually works. I went online earlier just to check stuff out and ended up creating the blog before I knew what happened.

More later. (heh heh)

2006-02-08T12:09:00.000-07:00

By way of experiment.