Why Do We Need British People to Come Over Here and Yell At Us Before We'll Do the Right Thing and Fix our Kids, Restaurants, Hair and Clothes?

You notice none of them are having a reality show teaching someone how to run their Gun Store and Shooting Range.


Didn't think so.

Lily's Room: A Ghost Story

Now, you must imagine a very dark night, like tonight, with clear, windblown skies and a quarter moon rising there beyond the oaks, shining on the bloody history of the calm inlet. The sweep of the lighthouse beam has a calming, serene effect, to contrast with the dubious prudence of being out so late, in the dark, wandering strange streets with a woman dressed in a Victorian walking outfit, carrying a lantern. During the day, you had learned of the piracy, plagues, pillaging and pyromania of the past 440 years. I have now led you to the oldest spot in the United States where European colonization truly began. The sky above us is unchanged in the last half millennium, there with Jupiter moving through the constellation of Sirius, racing ahead of the moon for now. You can see stars shimmering in the water as we move away from the sea wall and head west toward our rendezvous.

The wind has caught the train of my hat's veil and it gently flows as we walk to an unexpected little garden, easily missed by the casual passerby. We enter through an overgrown arbor, heavily scented with the late blooms of Confederate Jasmine as stray vines brush uneasily across your arms and through your hair. My lantern provides just enough light that moves hesitantly through the veil over my face, searching out features and expressions for you to interpret as I begin. As you stand around me, shivering slightly with the chilled air, I begin:

What you are seeing behind me is a building whose outer walls stand as a description of the southernmost boundary of this town. Its courtyard faces inward, as these walls were also a part of the defense of the town. It is now, and has been for over 140 years, an Inn. Before it was an Inn, however, it was someone's home, being the residence of Major Hardee and his wife and three small children. Also living with the family was a nephew, and a servant girl from town, named Lily.

In the course of time and natural circumstances, the nephew grew to notice Lily's exotic dark skin and laughing, island eyes, for she carried with her all the melancholy beauty of her home far away in Barbados. How could such a young man, with too much time and too little responsibility be blamed for falling madly in love with her?

Fearing the repercussions of their impropriety, the young lovers trysted where they could steal a moment, a kiss, a longing gaze. Do you note the third floor of this building? It is no longer a rambling attic as it was in Lily's day, but now holds beautiful accommodations for happy tourists. But for Lily and the Nephew, it was a proper attic, full of imposing crates, old furniture, bric-a-brac and books. They would push aside boxes, sit upon the packing crates and foolishly speak of a future which, frankly, could never be.

Their love continued apace and undetected, or so they thought. However, the Major suspected the long glances and discreet smiles bode something more serious and made it his mission to intercept the affair, which thing he did by arriving home in the middle of the day, early, from his usual command of the city's defense.

He began on the first floor. Not finding his nephew or Lily, he ascended to the second floor. From there he found himself climbing to the attic, and rounding a corner, found his nephew and house girl in a fiery embrace.

"LILY!" he roared, At this point, you my dear readers must visualize that the guests in this garden, especially my younger guests, give a startled jump as I lower my voice and boom out this line of the story, "How dare you?"

"How dare you presume upon this house," he continued, " and the good will of your mistress by being alone here with my nephew? You will immediately pack your things and return to your family in town!"

With a shriek of sheer terror and emotional pain Lily jumps up and runs down to her room. The Major, turning his attention to his nephew says, "Young man, it's obvious that you do not have enough to occupy your time and attention. I shall speak with your aunt and think further on how best to remedy this oversight." With a quick turn on his heel, the Major descends to the family area downstairs.

Now, gentle ghost-guests, we have the Major downstairs thinking, Lily on the second floor cyring and packing her things, and the young nephew up in the attic, there you see? That room just to the left, that window there.? Yes, take a picture if you like. He is up there and with all the harrumphing of his uncle and the tears of his beloved weighing on his heart; our forlorn young man is hurting, and that quite keenly.

Like many young people without the perspective that years can lend, he does not realize that his pain will fade. He decides on a very permanent solution to his temporary heartache as he spies a coiled rope. He grabs it up and secures one end of the rope on the rafters above him.

Dear reader, allow that your gaze ascends to the branches of the ancient oak under which we are standing, imagining the rafters as I mime the act of tossing a coil of rope upward. The smaller guests are now watching me intently, for all they can see is the merest glimpse of my features, my eyes now wide with intensity of the moment as I continue my story.

The same trunks and crates where he and Lily had been seated are now stacked upon each other and as he mounts them, he takes the other end of the rope, fashions a noose and places it around his neck. (And now my guests in the garden grow deathly quiet. Hopefully, that damn drunken Hearse Tour won't show up before my dramatic finish.)

Balancing on a small crate, our young lover adjusts the knot and fidgets with the rope, tears stinging his eyes with the agony of his heart breaking. Having taken in all slack, he leans forward on his toes now barely clinging to the edge of an empty crate. After taking in the mouldy furniture, the dim light, the last scent of Lily's lingering presence , he thrusts his body forward and kicks backward on the crate, assuring that there would be no retreat from his protest of pain, no cowardly half-measure of his honor. And there he died.

It is said that Lily, upon hearing the house quiet, crept back up the stairs to take in one more glimpse of that place where she had found such hope for happiness, and spying her love thus expired, mounted the crates and bodily lifted the young boy down with a horrifying thud onto the floor. Kissing his lips now washed with her tears, she re-mounted to the noose and placed it around her neck, so to follow her love in Death as in Life by submitting herself to his fate.

In truth, however, she went back to her family in town and pined away for grief. She died within a month and was quietly buried in the pauper's graveyard. I find this, my dear guests, a better if less dramatic, end to this true story; to pine away for grief and loss of love is a woman's noble death. We are not allowed to battle as men and win glory in death. No, our abiding crown is to die in, of, or for, love. Such was Lily's true Heart and true Death.

But not to worry, my fellow adventurers! For such a tragic death, the lovers are enjoying a blithe haunting of this Inn. Many a traveler has encountered Lily's antics, and indeed, one must reserve "Lily's Room" many months in advance, so popular is her story and certain are her manifestations.

Guests have reported her wandering here in this garden, women have awakened early in the morning, startled by the sound of someone rummaging in their purse, only to have it flung to the floor. Honeymooning couples especially experience Lily's antics. One couple, upon returning from a day of sightseeing, found that Lily had been into the wife's things and had tried on many of her dresses. Nothing malicious, nothing stolen, just the curiosity of a young girl who died many years ago, marveling at the latest fashions.

One young bride reported something even stranger. She was having the most wonderful dream that her new husband was waking her with a kiss. A strong and passionate kiss that thrilled her right into consciousness! She awoke to see her bridegroom sleeping soundly! Ah, the Nephew of course, was sporting about! Of course when she told her husband, he insisted they check out of this Inn and find less exciting lodgings.

There's more. Today's house girls here at the Inn, find that Lily does not like for them to listen to the television while cleaning the guest rooms. She will simply go behind them and turn of the TV. One of my guests on this tour even related that Lily would continually push the television remote off of the coffee table and onto the floor!

When various ghost hunters have been here, they endeavored to see what most hope to see more than any other manifestation of Lily's presence: the indistinct figure of Lily descending the stairs. She appears blurred and uneven, but her hand upon the rail is almost tangible, as real and detailed as my own beautifully gloved hand here before you, my fellow adventurers!

I thank you for joining me here in this bowered garden in the dead of night. You are braver than most! Take your time to wander about and photograph. Imagine young Lily, her bright smile and laugh, the handsome young Nephew's devoted gaze into her eyes, and their merry mischief together, eternally in this place. Perhaps you will find them in the pictures you take tonight!

And now my fellow travelers, I exhort you to be careful to watch your step as we exit back into the street. There are spirits about tonight, mostly of the mineral kind, imbibed by recalcitrant locals in their cars. It is, after all, a Pirate Town...

...They may aim to make you my next ghost story.

Obama Speechwriter Defects to Freedom; Evisceration and Flensing to Follow

As of today, apparently. Her farewell to the Democrats is more than a swan song. And perhaps, moreso than Michael Malone's high-profile denouncement of his profession, this defection is costly.

She has my admiration for making a quick and principled decision the moment things became clear to her mind and heart. With no consideration for her financial future, but with a clear conscience and high ideal, Wendy Button breaks free:

I was dead wrong about the surge and thought it would be a disaster. Senator John McCain led when many of us were ready to quit. Yet we march on as if nothing has changed, wedded to an old plan, and that too is a long way from the Democratic Party.

I can no longer justify what this party has done and can’t dismiss the treatment of women and working people as just part of the new kind of politics. It’s wrong and someone has to say that. And also say that the Democratic Party’s talking points—that Senator John McCain is just four more years of the same and that he’s President Bush—are now just hooker lines that fit a very effective and perhaps wave-winning political argument…doesn’t mean they’re true. After all, he is the only one who’s worked in a bipartisan way on big challenges.

Before I cast my vote, I will correct my party affiliation and change it to No Party or Independent. Then, in the spirit of election 2008, I’ll get a manicure, pedicure, and my hair done. Might as well look pretty when I am unemployed in a city swimming with “D’s.”

About 800 comments and counting, at that link. But, like a friend used to say quite often: "the man with an experience is not at the mercy of the man with an argument." Read it all.

I sure wish her well.

Boxers, Briefs, or Fundoshi?

You may want to skip this video if you are at all squeamish about men's undergarments. It's not like it's the penis-gourd accoutrement of the tribes of Papua New Guinea. This little ritual, from the land of insane rituals, is much more civilized. Why this guy even has an assistant guy that helps him put on his underwear, which you can see in the second video at the link. But here's the first part, which is a solo performance apparently:

I am nothing if not multi-culti.

h/t to Ximeze, commenter extraordinaire at One Cosmos.

Obama/Khalidi/Ayers Tape Contains State Secrets About Our Troops in Iraq!!

Exclusive to Primordial Slack. Must credit Joan of Argghh! for this scoop.

Yeah. I'm kidding. But it's not like anyone's gonna come up with enough cash to pry it out of the L.A. Times, so I figure if we can convince the New York Times that it will hurt our troops and our mission in Iraq, they'll fall all over themselves to get that tape.

Work with me, people. Must I do everything?

"Apolitical" Benchwarming. No Such Thing.

Look, McCain "embraced the suck" for five years in a stanky prison. You can handle a bit more political pain for the next seven days, or you can endure for another four-eight-twelve years. But you don't get a choice about politics.

It's as fortuitous or fateful as being born; the serendipty of where you were born. But you can ignore, abuse, disavow, or apathetically tune out from politics, and politics just won't care. Like life, it will impede your progress, destroy your plans, offer up challenges, and generally keep rolling like a steamroller.

Or it can bless you with freedom.

Obama, that "Constitutional scholar," wants to talk about "negative rights" in the context of something like the ultimate Anti-JFK: "What the federal government or the state must do on your behalf".

I can think of no greater, ultimate good, that the Fed and State can do on my behalf than Freedom: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.

Obama is promising a lot of things, but these three are sorely missing from his missives.

You have to face politics like you face life: square on.

Alcohol helps.

It ain't over until you give up.

Because Halloween Doesn't Scare Me Anymore...

I blog politics.

Run to the battle, people, not away. This is no time to be weary; sleep is for when you are dead.

Bill Ayers is a swell guy. From Confederate Yankee, we have the proof, on video, of just what sort of "education" program we're in for with the Obamunists. And don't tell me he's reformed. Have you ever met a real teacher who didn't believe that the world's problems couldn't be solved if everyone was a smart as they? Yeah, you've read the transcripts by now, but just watch for a real Happy Halloween scare. Behold:

And the Democrats wanna give the Vman all sorts of grief for wanting hole up on his patch of the mountain?

[The only good news is that once you're dead, you can vote in Ohio and Chicago as often as you like. -ed.]

Bookends.

My day started with me waiting at the last intersection before my driveway at work, only to watch a motorcyclist halt between two opinions; that of stopping for the light or proceeding. Alas, his hands moved faster than his brain and he locked up the front wheel just enough to send him into a wobbling endo off of his bike, making a full cartwheel into the intersection not 20 feet in front of me. And the rest of the four stopped lanes of traffic. We all sat stunned at this one-man accident, but even I could see that he was gently used by the asphalt. Not so his bike, unfortunately. Gasoline leaked everywhere. But he was up and others helped him move it out of the road before the 55 mph soccer moms began to stack up behind us.

Now, I have just received a communication from one of my most favorite bloggers, apprising us of his rather spectacular accident today, wherein his beloved bike took a hit for him, broke the front fork and sent him high and flying. Now he's out of the emergency room and likely to feel like a Red Shirt from Star Trek by morning. I believe he'll say more and post pictures when he's ready, but I don't think he'll mind me asking you to send up some good thoughts and prayers for the Irrelephant. And in spite of his blog subtitle, he matters very much to very many.

Get well soon!

Penn State University Troll: Get off my lawn. Updated. Like you care.

Some Penn State child student (prof? Same product of an inept school system, so yeah, could be a prof) is trolling my website and signing up for a Blogger account for the mere privilege of telling me I'm a nutter.

I wish I could say I'm flattered, but, it got here by way of Velociworld, and that would give anyone pause. You know that no Lefty visits Vman on purpose, so they must have been googling all sorts of vile search terms to arrive at Velociman's place. Heck, the guy hardly writes anything anymore and still gets something like 500 hits a day, people looking for Lobster Boy or Anomalies of a Sexual Nature or other weirdness. Just reading Vman's sitemeter searches is enough to deprave your innocence.

[Update: it seems Vman has incurred (emphasis on cur) the wrath of no lesser intellectual lights than Wolcott and Sullivan, who on a good day would be hard-pressed to write a tenth as well as he. Jealousy is such an unattractive feature for these gals.]

That said troll named itself so boldly as "BloodOfPatriots" really puts the rotten cherry on the shit-sundae of political blindness it exhibited in its short visit. And to think my little essay on McCain's Juggernaut provoked someone to jump through so many hoops just to say something totally lame.

I find that funny because it took me less time to write it than for the little perv BoP to reply to it.

I know. This post isn't as good as Dogette's Comment Hell, but I'm late for work.

Effective. Personal. Powerful.

...And it'll warm the cold, prickly cockles of your heart:

Practical, Public lessons in "redistributing the wealth."

You say you want a revolution? I can think of no better, kinder, and non-violent way to change hearts and minds. Don't miss the comments there.

Heaven knows, our government has seen that we don't object when they do it.

h/t to Mike at Cold Fury.

Personal Note - Please skip this post.

I'm not really fit for human company these days.

I try very hard to stick with the vague edges of circumstance at the Pirate Palapa, or my job, or my health. All of which bore me, much moreso my poor readers who stumble through here on their way to better fare.

It's been four weeks since surgery. I'm now gaining strength; it should fill me with all sorts of warm-fuzzy happiness. But it has not. Not yet, anyway. I hate taking meds and painkillers until I really, really need them. [Rum counts as a pain-killer, Joan. -ed.] Argghh! This all just grates on my attitude.

Until I figure it all out, it's just not safe for me to be commenting on your blog. So, just look for my pirate town addy on your blog meter and know I love you guys.

If you see me in your comments, kindly remind me to go back home to my own blog. Trust me on this.

Post Script: The corpses pictured above are not just for show; you can go buy your own.

I think a caption contest is in order. The Maximum Leader won the last one. He has yet to tell me where to send his gold doubloon prize.

The McCain Juggernaut - No, Really!

Everyone's talking about Obama's millions and minions, but there is a curious and obverse point of view being largely ignored here. It's taking 5 times the amount of campaign spending, gross and obscene amounts of cash, PLUS a media unashamedly in the tank for Obama, to suppress McCain's voice to the insignificant tune of less than a few points in most polls.

I think we have a Righteous Wind at OUR backs.

It must royally pique His Highness' sense of entitlement.

(And just think, you evil McCainiacs, that was money that Obama could have used to spread around to the rest of the entitled.)

It ain't over until you give up.

Cats are Evil - Part 5,436

Gail, at always-fascinating, Scribal Terror, has the giggles this morning:

What your cat does while you sleep.

Interesting to see the different time schedules between a guy's need to stay asleep and a cat's judgment on how long that needs to be.

Joe Finds a Way to Beat Tax Increase and Still Amass Personal Wealth

He's considering a run for Congress. Heh.

Welcome to The Placeholder Party, Joe!

Omnipotent Moral Busybodies

Of all tyrannies a tyranny exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It may be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.

--C. S. Lewis

Proportion, Fit, Styrofoam, and MEOOWW!!!

Nobody has made the connection and appropriate contrast to the whole wardrobe kerfuffle that Suzette has.

And absolutely nobody kills the green-eyed beast better than she.

An absolute must-read. It should become the bon mot, the riposte to every MSM post about Sarah's wardrobe.

If Suzette isn't from the South, I hereby award her the honorary title of "Smiling Knife-twister Southern Belle."

Perfect.

My, the time! Off to work with me. Ya'll behave.

The Last Republican Male in Leadership

And the GOP hung him out to dry, as did the self-righteous Religious Right.

But he's the only one that tells the truth.

Now there's a man with a sense of history, and boldly unafraid to label the MSM as Communists! Newt is possibly the greatest political mind of our time. And certainly, the only GOP leader with a sense of history and meaning beyond the personal pocketbook.

Sigh.

Now, we have to make do with Joe the Plumber and Sarah the Hockey Mom. And that's okay, the Elites in London called us "country cousins" way back in 1776.

We kicked their ass, all the same.

"Socialism" Is a Code Word For...

"Kleptocracy."

I left this comment over at today's latest outrage. I even suffered their idiotic registration process just for the sheer catharsis of having my say:

Gee, I think Castro may take exception to having "socialism" usurped in meaning by the chattering race-baiting pundits. Chavez may be emailing you, as well.

Socialism is actually code for "kleptocracy" and if that's where you want this conversation to go, let's go there with Barney Frank, Chris Dodd and Franklin Raines. Gay, White, Black. It's a veritable rainbow of equal access to my hard-earned money in order to line their pockets.

When I lived in Mexico City, there was that old "code" saying, "if you're a poor politician in Mexico, you're a pretty poor politician."

A pox on them and their disingenuous defenders.

There's a lot of stupid racists piling on with horribly offensive comments, but if you have something to say, this is the current Center of Influence today. (The pundit is Lewis Diuguid, for purposes of the sweet, sweet, Google hits.)

I guess that's another word,"socialism," to add to my growing list of 7 x 70 Words You Can't Say.

This...

Made me feel better.

h/t book of joe

Apocalax Now!

Zombies gotta respect a chick who is wielding some serious steel. Zombie Tools is just the place to find that special Tool for Special Times, be it the Zombie Apocalypse or a home invasion by the coming Thugocracy. Behold the Apocalax!:

Apocalax: So much heavy metal heft for just $100 per pound. Not sure what the chick weighs, but the blade costs $375. Don't worry, they have an actual selection of blades, my favorite being the Urban Bone Machete.

Even if you're planning on waiting it all out in your bomb-shelter, you should at least go check out the gallery pics, get some ideas for Halloween.

Hey, between me and Uncrate, we've got your back.

*****

Meanwhile, it looks like there's been some Bad Bad Juju,folks, going on in the skies. Huh. I thought the next blown-eyed meet wasn't until this weekend.

Sunday Morning Goofs

Oh, just go have a laugh this morning.

Won't take 2 minutes, Spartacus.

Saturday Night Fights. If you didn't see Sarah on SNL last night, it's pretty funny stuff.

Neighborhood Watch. Those Brits spell it wrong of course...

Hometown Piracy, Economics, and Swedish Socialism

I just had a long conversation with my Swedish neighbor. Seems he is still getting his ass handed to him by the the corrupt locals and officials, plus tourism and trade is down and he's now pining for the socialism of Sweden, where he will prosper personally whether he works hard or not, have his six week vacations and free health care.

But he has the temerity to tell me that we must elect Obama because things can't keep going like they are. Sure they can, I tell him. It's worked marvelously for over 200 years.

He did concede that all of the world's richest people come from the U.S. ; it's why his boss sent him here-- to grow another business. Land of opportunity, still!

He has no economic sense because he's grown up in a cocoon of security. We spoke of taxes and how he'll need to raise his rates even higher so that he can continue to make a living, how it won't actually affect him as much as his customers... all the baseline realities of income and expense, profit and payout, and who ultimately pays for business taxes. His pay has been subsidized by his boss back in Sweden, and he's supposed to make money here in the U.S. But he's made the mistake of thinking this pirate town is as sweet and orderly as others.

And for this he insisted that Socialism was superior.

Well yeah, when you don't have to worry about due diligence in your business plans, no researching of locale and local officials. (The city here actually told him they had no drawings of the municipal marina and he was forced to spend $30k for a private contractor to provide plans. I believe him, because when I worked in the tourism industry here, the local Chamber told me they had no historical information about hotel occupancy. In a tourist town. Yeah, right.) They treated him like a babe in the woods. Which he is. He may be very intelligent, but he is culturally as ignorant as a Third Worlder. In fact, the Third Worlders fare much better here because they understand corruption and bribery. However, my neighbor's boss has plenty of money, and this project is just that: a social service for his friend and employee, so the personal loss is covered. Safe. As long as his boss has money.

We talked more about business, profit margins and health care. Nothing got through to him until he expressed a desire to pay his employees more. I pounced. I told him to sell his Escalade, take his kid out of private school, and move to a more modest residence and he could do so. You'd have thought I punched him between the eyes. He had no answer. The wheels began to stubbornly turn.

I told him that Socialism demands that sort of sacrifice, (indeed, my nabe tells me he gets to keep very little of his money because of all the taxes there) but Communism will hold a gun to your head and force you to share everything, so why not just give me the keys to your home and let me pick out what I want, we'll call it even.

To his credit, he got it. Fortunately, life really is easier for him in Sweden, which is okay if the rest of the world will let him keep it. Perhaps his stay here will help him consider that maybe the world won't let him keep it.

But I can't imagine such a life, with no real incentives or goals or frontiers to work toward. Maybe that's the real "American" difference that has been lost in the DC/NY corridor of punditry: the Pioneers, Daniel Boones, Lewis and Clarks for whom the status quo was okay, but not enough.

Is it wrong? Wrong to push, strive for more, investigate more thoroughly, discover more, create more, and yes, conquer human enemies of poverty and ignorance? Because this is our national identity. This is what it means to be American. Not the jobs we hold, or the neighborhoods we live in, or the things we enjoy. We're not racists, or greedy war mongerers, or zenophobic isolationists until the racist, isolationist and greedy pundits in the Northeast say so, apparently.

I reject that notion. And I reject Socialism, especially the pretty, sleepy and ultimately dangerous kind generated by Sweden.

Oh, I see it's been eleven months since I last wrote about my sweet, Swedish neighbors here. I'd forgotten. I don't have to work with him anymore on committees since I am no longer in the tourism industry here, but he just reaffirmed my post of last year. Except that he's learning, slowly, that the world isn't gonna just bow down to beautiful Swedish idealism. It's full of pirates and others who want what you have, and will take it from you. He's waking up just in time to see he's not up to the task. Good for him, and his family.

Me? Give me the struggle, as long as the reward is equal to it. Sleep is for when we're dead.

Wake up and work for what you cherish. Your vote is being negated by corruption. That should make you mad enough to march, demonstrate, file a lawsuit, and demand accountability. Don't worry, when you lose your job you'll have nothing but time on your hands. Just like Community Organizers.

It ain't over until you give up.

Just In Time For Halloween

Via, Paxety Pages, Mahone Dunbar's singular stylin' has me smilin':

Our National Nightmare. Financial Vampires and Health CareWolves.

Why Isn't Jimmah Carter Speaking Out Against Election Registration Fraud?

Anyone? Bueller?

Just asking.

Freedom's Just Another Word for Nothing Left to Lose

"The ransom of a man's life is his riches, but the poor hear no threats." Prov 13:8

Peggy Noonan, afraid of losing her wealth of friends and funds, joins other so-called Conservative pundits in distancing herself from the clear thinking Sarahs and Joes.

Well, neither Sarah Palin's paycheck nor Joe W's paycheck even reaches Obama's baseline of "wealth" so maybe that's why they can speak the truth so plainly. They've not yet learned, as have McCain and Obama, to measure their words in monetary terms.

What are you going to threaten a poor man with, anyway? Making exhaling a crime?

Happy Farookin' Boitday

To one of the Famous Elderly Brothers, Jimbo, pictured above with the great farookin' hair, in a photo I stole from Erica.

Go over to Parkway Rest Stop (not what you're thinking) and wish him all the best.

Seamus and the City

You know, even a small fry like Seamus might enjoy a stroll down the streets of Brooklyn, accompanying his mistress to work and back:


Via, Book of Joe, Micahal Shabtiali's project for mobilizing house-bound fishies is certainly a clever way to tote your tetras or carry your carp. And it can stand easily on your desktop. Don't worry, the fish doesn't know from off-level:

I think it's a perfectly wonderful idea and I hope Michal finds someone to manufacture these. I want to buy one for Seamus! He's a regular sort of fish, made extraordinary because Erica loves him so much. And when someone that great is your friend, you're one lucky goldfish.

UpdatedPut Obama's $800k to Work for the Good

The Beginning of Misbehavings.

Assume an attitude of oppression. Easier and easier to do these days.
Find your local ACORN office.
Fill out a bunch voter registration forms with ACORN. (Obama's campaign has given them $800k.)

Register as Democrat.

Everybody use just one name:

Jack Kopf,

and one address:

950 Pennsylvania Ave., NW Washington, D.C. 20530-0001

Let them get all the early voting ballots by the thousands.

Bonus: your taxes have already pre-paid the postage for the ballots.

UPDATED: A'ight. I know it's not practical or prudent, but it could be fun. However, Ace actually has a good idea cooking over at his place. Whether is you choose to be mischievious or munificent you gotta get off your duff and actually do something. Doing something now is easier than defending something later.

They're Not Under the Bus. They're In the Dugout.

Jesse Jackson's little speech about Israel was not an "off the cuff" remark. It's a meme that's been roiling in the so-called Black community for a generation or two. He just said it out loud where non-believers and non-members of said community could hear it. It was a clarion call, unmistakable in its intent and target.

It's understood by the monolithic support base that Obama must cast aside any and every person that will make "non-members of the community" uncomfortable. Each and every person "under the bus" is actually just sitting down from a trip to the plate for a sacrifice bunt or fly. As soon as he's annointed King, you can bet they'll be up for another at-bat on Team Obama; as Cabinet members, judges, and State Department employees.

Prove It

There used to be a meme in Christian circles that went like this: "If you were on trial for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?"

It was a kind of Orwellian twist on the idea of innocent until proven guilty.

I would like to re-introduce this idea before tonight's debate.

Instead of leveling all sorts of accurate appellations at Obama's character and activities, only to have him deny, deny, and lie, let's turn the tables a bit and ask Obama only one question...

"If you were on trial for being an American, would there be enough evidence to convict you?"

Oh yes, I know. How quaint, the idea of "American" in all of its zenophobic, anti-intellectual, racist connotations applied by the media and the Left.

Because I do question his patriotism. And if that's not allowed, then I question his support of the Constitution and Amendments.

If he and his followers do not support these, then I have no country in common with them. How can the Light embrace the benighted goals of Communism?

I join VodkaPundit, DailyPundit, GuyK, Dogette, Vman, Pamibe, and a host of others who will, at the last, refuse to sit idly by while Freedom erodes.

Put my name on your list, Communist Nanny-Staters, it's not too early.

Obama will not be my President. Nor will Hillary "for the common good" Clinton. Nor will anyone of any skin color or sex that embraces the deconstruction of Capitalism and Freedom as their political platform.

We have to have a baseline of agreement between our political Left and Right. When you march off the pages of the Constitution and into the Marxist handbook, we have no common ground. I don't care if 60% of the people decide Communism is the way to go, I will never cede my Human Right to be free from tyranny and oppression -- and that includes economic oppression.

If Obama is elected and cannot prove himself to be an American, if he threatens the Constitution instead of upholding it, he will not find a "my fellow Americans" sort of person in me.

(Unless, you know, he can swing me a sweet deal on a home like he got. That's what I'd call equality of access! ...)

My Not-Racist, Not-Angry, Totally Discriminating Reason I CANNOT Vote for Obama.

Let The One speak for himself:

Plumber to Obama: “Your new tax plan is going to tax me more. Isn’t it?”

Obama: “It’s not that I want to punish your success, I just want to make sure that everybody that is behind you, that they have a chance for success too. I think that when you spread the wealth around, it’s good for everybody.”

Poor plumber!! Only The One knows how much money you should be allowed to have. Your profit taking is keeping someone else from having nice things, Dr. Zhivago! You have too many rooms in your home, Mrs. Smith!

No other way to spin this. The man is a RAGING COMMUNIST and now you don't have to doubt it.

h/t HotAir.

Hmmm. Fishing line sprouting from mah belleh.

Adding insult to injury Department:

The Super Glue so liberally applied to my surgery scars is wearing off after almost two weeks and so, steeling myself to the peeling-- trying not to tickle myself-- away and off with the glue. Such a relief!

I tug gently at a stubborn glue strand, only to find monofilament line protruding from my flesh! Gah! It's an internal stitch that should've stayed inside.

No problem. I snip it away.

Ooops.

It leaves a small, sharpish point that catches on my clothes.

Just great. Great. I have no idea what the solution to this will be.

*****

Went to work today. Lasted 3 hours before the pain was too much and my legs started shaking with weakness. Guess I'm not Super Woman, after all. I came home to my nest in the papasan chair, after popping a coupla Advil and having a nice er... muscle relaxer.

Plans for tonight are to pop a percocet and watch The Sarah Conner Chroni.... zzzzzzzzzzzz.

Wherein ABC Successfully Woos Me

O.M.G. !!!!11!!!Eleventy! LOL!!

Shut up and watch this.

I mean it.

Especially you, Rachel, Dogette, and Stankleberry.

You will thank me. Profusely.

William Shatner is Hot.Shit.

Big ol Hat Tip to Last of the Few.

Memo to Frank Rich and MoDo

McCain and Palin are NOT inciting their base to rage.

The base got there pretty much by way of the Mainstream Media of which you are a part.

Heck, we've had to drag McCain, kicking and screaming, across any sort of line that looks like a passionate defense of Conservatism, since he isn't a Conservative.

No, the base has watched you and your disingenuous ilk bloviate about your superior knowledge of All Things (in Latin, yet!) and we've listened to you try to explain our mindset and point of view as though you understand us perfectly. Which you don't, and can't, having been isolated and unchallenged seriously by critical thinkers who differ from you.

And now you mostly report on each other, so stimulating is your narcissistic circle-jerk of wonderfulness!

So the Conservative voters, like a minority of years gone by, have been marginalized, ignored, villified, mocked, misrepresented, demeaned and derided. Just because we work hard and want something to show for it besides the ingratitude of our government, our elected officials, and the so-called oppressed poor whom we support more comfortably than we can afford for ourselves after taxes. And we're excoriated for that, too:

Now even the dimmest bloviators have figured out that Americans are riveted by the color green, not black — as in money, not energy.

Well gee, Mr. Rich, to borrow a phrase, "what's in your wallet?"

None of this even scratches the surface of the violence done to Conservative ideals in the last 40 years. Even in the last eight, with constant mockery of George Bush, with complicit silence on success in Iraq, with outright lies being repeated by a Media that I am now convinced, knows better. We're emaciated by a diet of omissions, po-mo narratives, vehement intolerance of spirituality, and a Hollywood machination of mockery that is unchanging in content and predictability; ubiquitous in distribution.

And now, now at the last, we are expected to shut up and take it when the Anarchists seek to discredit the system by opening it up to all manner of fraud and unreliability. And no proposed solution will be seriously considered to be effective by the screamers and deconstructionists with whom you associate to the exclusion of everything else.

I hope you like the world you've created by silencing the voices of polite dissent.

Me? No more running. I aim to misbehave.

Impolitely.

Celebrating Alone

...is no fun at all.

Gaz, over at Your Moosey Fate (sounds like a Sarah Palin ploy, but it's not!) is celebrating a year of being free from the curse of cigarettes.

If you've ever been there and done that, you know how awesome it feels to be free. Go over and add your congrats and encouragement to mine, and let her know that her blog banner totally rocks.

Well done, Gaz!

Like Some Bad Prison-Chick Flick

I went and got all my hair chopped off. The back of the do is above the collar. Short. (Sure, that's me there on the left... if you squint your eyes and fuzzy them up, you can almost imagine it.*ahem*)

My hair hasn't been this short since I was in 5th grade.

The DIL says, "Sassy!"

That's me. Sassy. Oy.

Who knows why I did it. I think I'm in mourning for my 401k.

Time for some Firefly Sweet Tea Vodka.

And some big-ass hoop earrings.

HEADS ON PIKES!!!

Where are they?

I don't need George Bush's patronizing reassurances.

My measly portfolio is down 30% right now and my home value is down 40%. And so is yours, whether Democrat or Republican.

Why are we not seeing Dodd, Frank, Waters, Raines, et al, frog-marched?

Yes, I'm just viscerally sickened enough by this to want to go Roman on these politicians. The People need a virtual effigy of some, ANY politician's career to go down in flames, shame, and pain.

Nobody's gonna lose their job over this mess... except McCain, apparently. Why isn't GOP leadership calling LOUDLY for heads to roll? I don't care if the media is ignoring the GOP, they need to figure out how to get their message out. Have a march, buy a pre-fab home, set it on fire, or demolish it with their bare hands and beat it with sledgehammers with various names on each handle. Make outrageous noise. Burn an ACORN banner in effigy. Stomp on an ACORN banner. Burn a mortgage. Here, take mine!

I know, I know. Too gauche and unsophisticated. What would their pals in D.C. say, as they sip their champagne? Gah. We're so screwed.

Poll Watching: 2004

Just because history is getting shorter and shorter every year, I present this to you, free of charge:

October 10, 2004 Polls

• The ABC snap poll has Kerry winning by 44 to 41 percent

• The CNN/USA Today/Gallup poll has Kerry winning 47 to 45 percent

• Gallup: Bush 51, Kerry 46

• Zogby: Bush 45, Kerry 47

• Rasmussen Reports: Bush 50, Kerry 46

And that's not counting all the illegal ACORN voters back then.

You Just Wouldn't Listen to Me, Would You?

Dogette and I are mourning the fact that our brilliance is under noticed, if not under appreciated. So, I had to prove it to myself and you. Behold, from March 7, 2008:

Saying that, I propose that if we insist on prosecuting drug pushers, we also prosecute loan pushers when they offer easy money to unqualified applicants. Oh wait. The liberals insisted we do so. Shall we vilify those who did their bidding, just because they expected to make their money back? Or see if maybe Rezko can front a bit of mortgage money for the rest of us?

Gawd, the Lamestream Media is SO FUCKING FAR BEHIND THE CURVE that even a non-elitist Slacker like moi can point out the subtle complexities of how to crash a thriving economy. I think I'm every bit as qualified as Dogette is to run this country. And either one of us is far more qualified than Obama. Just... damn!

Update: Dogette opines, "My brilliance is totally ignored unless I post a dog picture. I post about ACORN and no one makes a comment (3 wks ago). Today it's all over the 'sphere. WTH? "

It's a bizzaro world, I tells ya.

"It's the Press. I'll Handle It"

You won't forgive yourself if you don't click this:

h/t Esquincle.

The GOP's Complicit Silence

I could write paragraphs and pages but it would all come down to this:

Where is GOP leadership?
Where is their outrage?
Why are they not LOUD in their denouncement of Obama's ideas?
Why are they not denouncing the Democrats and their kleptocracy?

Answer: Follow the money.

Fuck 'em all.

ACORN Doesn't Care

ACORN’s ends will not be diminished by the fraud. They’ve known all along that they’d be called out on this fraud. Likely they are surprised it took this long. In the meantime, hey! they get lots of extra votes for their guy.

In the end-game, it’s about frustrating bureaucracy with paperwork. It’s an old and proven Marxist ploy, and is outlined in Obama’s reading materials. If you can’t beat the system fair and square, then use its own rules to defeat it.

ACORN is required by law to turn in all applications, even ones they suspect to be fraudulent. They are absolved from the actions of individuals filling out paperwork, so if charges are forthcoming against ACORN it will be more on the order of intent to incite others to commit fraud. But I'm not an expert on this.

The anarchy is almost complete when you start hearing people saying, “who knows what’s true anymore?” "It's too complicated."

Meanwhile, watch the continuing complexity of these "community organizations" and action groups and their chaotic demands, redirects, and obfuscations.

Not Political. Pinky Swear.

Nothing about this even remotely reminds me of politics. It's so eensy and it makes a really annoying buzzing as it flies around, it may as well be a little brother. But I can think of so many useful applications for this... especially in a cube-farm. Must have one and attach a teensy little camera to it. Check out The Swarming:

For $24.99 at ThinkGeek, how you gonna resist? The remote only moves it up and down, so, y'know, even I can operate it.

I need a cat to torment with it. Heh.

h/t Uncrate

Tell Me What's Wrong With This Plan

McCain comes out and says, "If you vote for me, I promise to step down within 90 days of inauguration."

Discuss.

Captain Morgan: A Better Painkiller

So, yeah. I've been off the painkillers since Thursday afternoon. Had surgery on Tuesday; a week ago. I know, you're saying, "what's the use of a full bottle of Percocet if you're not gonna enjoy it? For at least a week or so?"

I am such a wuss.

However, it was great fun joining the JR and his brother for a few quaffs down at the local bar, meet up with a few local heroes and generally enjoy life under the influence. A mellow buzz, a happy time, and hey! I got to get out of the house and go maybe a mile down the road!!

Well, I may be forgiven for feeling a bit celebratory: Doc says I'm healing up well and he won't need to see me for a year.

Meanwhile, Doctor British, the poor naif fresh from a second residency (for his US license) in Denver, assures me that they've implemented a redundancy in the O.R. equipment in this pirate town's hospital, since my unfortunate experience last week. Seems somebody dropped the damn laproscopic vacuum box and never said a word. That's why I have an extra, unexpected scar along my lovely tummy.

Pre-op couldn't have been a more reassuring experience. Post-op I was dumped into a room and left to rot and scream for pain meds. Doc Brit forgot that, due to the unexpected incision into my abdomen, I might need some Demorol for the pain. He fixed that, but like Bill Whittle noted, you gotta wait for the pharmacy to issue the meds. Plus, Nurse Obama could've cared less for me or more for her manicure. Yeah, can't wait for government-guaranteed-job nurses to become the standard of excellence under ObamaCare.

So, the Pepper Dog is home now, and she's looking at me like, "how do YOU like it, beyatch?"

Not much. But my longer battle with pain is over. Gotta be glad about that. And about all of you sending good thoughts my way. Thanks again.

Now, back to misbehavin'. Just wait 'til you see the Obama quotes I've got for you!

Amuse and Reassure Yourself with Google

Just go ahead and Google up the 2004 race thusly:

"kerry ahead of bush in the polls october"

Oh, and just see how they say, when Bush was pulling ahead in spite of the debates... LMAO!!!

If you believe ANYthing the MSM or the polls tell you, well, yes, you need to turn off the television and turn on your computer.

Just something to keep in mind, kids.

Misbehavin'

Starting around at the 9:00 minute mark:

"Sure as I know anything, I know this - they will try again. Maybe on another world, maybe on this very ground swept clean. A year from now, ten? They'll swing back to the belief that they can make people... better. And I do not hold to that. So no more runnin'. I aim to misbehave."

Looks like McCain is ready to paint his ship red and decorate it with the dead bodies of all the people Obama has thrown under the bus:

Spread it around.

Oh yeah, Pamibe is misbehavin', too!

Mark Steyn is seriously misbehavin'. God help us, "educators" defending Ayers.

Jimbo is taking Misbehavin' to the House. Gonna leave a mark.

Sissy Willis is swooping in like a leaf in the wind.

MPWilson has pried himself away from the stock slide long enough to get busy with the truth.

*****

I know you all think I'm just over-the-top but here ya go, via Gateway Pundit:

Obama’s education bill, S.2111, significantly redesigns and amends the Elementary and Secondary Education Act to allow, in part, for “State…local educational agencies, and schools to increase implementation of early intervention services, particularly school-wide positive behavior supports.”

According to Section 3, “the term `positive behavior support’ means a systematic approach to embed proven practices for early intervening services, including a range of systemic and individualized strategies to reinforce desired behaviors and eliminate reinforcement for problem behaviors, in order to achieve important social outcomes (emphasis added)…”

You gonna vote for that?

Obama: As Authentic as Kwanzaa.

He's a manufactured political holiday from responsibility. And just as phony. He's a political Kwanzaa.

You need proof?

For somehow his journey had led him to Trinity Church, surrounded by the people from his neighborhood including many he had helped. And there, swept up in the waves of their singing with tears on his cheeks he knew why he was there. He knew who he was, and where he belonged."

Good thing he disassociated himself from that church, huh? Good grief, just go look at the pics and review there. And there's more at Gateway Pundit.

More proof? Here ya go. Didn't Kwanzaa begin as a school curriculum? You think these books aren't being read aloud to school children?

The Obamacons may want to quiz the FBI/CIA on this.

It would be just like them to invent Obama. I'll leave it to you to discuss why.

A Better Fannie Investment

It's just begging for a caption.

Don't let me down, Slackers.

A Pirate Doubloon to the winner!


(Yes, it farts when you, er, em, make a deposit. It's perfect.)


h/t Book Of Joe.

Community Organizers: Sedition in a Suit

I can't apologize for the another political post. I'm too old to want to move and start life over in a new country. I like this one. I've grown quite fond of freedom. Hopefully, you have, too.

Jimbo points to a long-forgotten item from the days when our National Nightmare began.

Go read it and remember, or read it for the first time. It's not about a difference of opinion. It's not a disagreement about approach. It's about murder, anarchy, and destruction perpetrated by members of Obama's Mentor Club.

Overthrowing the United States Government was the goal then. It is the goal now. They are very near their success.

You gonna vote for that? Or just keep closing your eyes and pretending it really is silly to believe anyone wants to destroy our country?

"Give us Barackkas!" may well be the will of 51% of our populace. October is the calm before the coming storm, no matter what happens.

Actually, Barabbas Was the Community Organizer

Just sayin'...

Bail Out Bill: Reparations

Rush said it. Sneaked it into his 3rd hour.

I didn't imagine it.

What do you think of such a statement?

Here's food for thought about that word, because after watching this video, I found it creeping into my thinking, too:

Update: Just heard back from my Congressman, John Mica, who twice voted against this bill. In his lengthy reply, he also cited the above video. Heh. I wrote him earlier to thank him after the first vote. Glad to hear he upheld his standards and the interests of his constituency today as well.

Blogging Under the Influence

This is a post for my son, who has a serious case of arachnophobia.

Here's a spider to play with, Mr. Waugh. You can make him fat, skinny, jumpy, feed him insects (hit the space bar) and pivot the plane of the table. Click and drag him around and generally just waste precious time you could better spend watching mushrooms grow in your apartment ceiling, son. I dunno. Seemed like fun to me, but I'm easily amused right now. Click to launch:

More silliness can be found at OneMotion.

Too bad you don't have a cat to torment:

Yoinked from haha.nu

Good Catholic Girls Don't Do Drugs

So, yeah, I'm no good at this, "wow, my head is so huge, and so far away from my hands," type of stuff too well. Freaking me out. Drugs are wasted on the wrong people I guess, cuz this stuff is not fun. I shoulda practiced more when I was younger, but, as the title of this post suggests, I never was a part of that scene. Thank God.

Of course, the JR being raised a Good Baptist Boy, means we became Episcopalians.

At the hospital they asked me what faith I preferred, and I told them, Catholic. Hey, when it's serious enough for a hospital stay, I don't want some woman-priest spouting New Age Deepak at me.

Wow, my ears are really ringing. Seriously, how do people enjoy drugs? I can barely tpye.

I must be hallucinating because I just heard that the No Banker Left Behind Act (I read that somewhere this morning, somewhere, heh) has provisions for wooden arrows and firewater. Are they expecting another uprising?

Percocet. Stat!

Home. Hurts like a sumbitch. Imagine getting stabbed three times, and then sliced open after the laproscopic stabbings failed to perform. Oh, and then imagine having a Moulinex blender-stick just shred your innards. All finished up with a spa-like seaweed wrap for the stumpy parts inside, so they don't adhere. And beautiful technicolor pictures of my innards! Blergh.

I even have a picture of my liver, which was just a bonus shot, a side trip, if you will. I'm sure I've seen a miraculous manifestation of Captain Morgan's visage in that photo. Argghh!

And now I'm held together with super-glue. Seriously.

Thanks for all your well-wishes, thoughts and prayers. Thankee thankee! I just wanted ya'll to know that blogging will be... weird.