Thursday, July 31, 2008

What's grating my cheese right now

When I was pregnant with my third child, I was lectured by the good Dr. May not to warehouse my children in day care centers. Dr. May, a Brit, minced no words with me. Even back in 1990, he was archaic in his paternalism when handing out parenting advice.

"Not to worry," said I. "I did the math, and I would end up penniless after paying other people for the privilege of raising my three children."
"Good," said he. "You don't need a boat."
"We don't want a boat."
"Don't buy new furniture, either."
"What idiot with toddlers has new furniture?"
"Well, good, then. Glad to see that there are real parents left who know what their responsibilities are."

Now I recall this conversation in light of the book that I am currently reading, by Theodore Dalrymple. Our Culture, What's Left of It - The Mandarins and the Masses.

He relates seemingly innocuous things which add up to a disintegrating, degenerated culture - especially in England, where political correct fantasies are the rule, and the resultant chaos that is occurring without any sign of reversing.

From the Frontpage Magazine article (via Orthodoxy Today):

Dalrymple It is clear to me that people often want incompatible things. They want danger and excitement on the one hand, and safety and security on the other, and often simultaneously. Contradictory desires mean that life can never be wholly satisfying or without frustration.

I think it was Dostoyevsky who said that, even if the government were 100 per cent benevolent and arranged everything for our own good, as judged by rational criteria, we should still want to exercise our freedom by going against its dispensations.

One reason for the epidemic of self-destructiveness that has struck British, if not the whole of Western, society, is the avoidance of boredom. For people who have no transcendent purpose to their lives and cannot invent one through contributing to a cultural tradition (for example), in other words who have no religious belief and no intellectual interests to stimulate them, self-destruction and the creation of crises in their life is one way of warding off meaninglessness. I have noticed, for example, that women who frequent bad men - that is to say men who are obviously unreliable, drunken, drug-addicted, criminal, or violent, or all of them together, have often had experience of decent men who treat them well, with respect, and so forth: they are the ones with whom their relationships lasted the shortest time, because they were bored by decency. Without religion or culture (and here I mean high, or high-ish, culture) evil is very attractive. It is not boring.

And so it is with bringing children into the world. Without the safety and benefits of marriage and two parents of opposite sexes. Girls decide they are miserable, and the thrill of deliberately getting knocked up while still living at home with your parents is their way of medicating themselves, and so, like moths they fly into the bug zapper of parenthood. They never calculate the costs to their families, to the children they bring in. It is always them, of course, that Gramma and Grampa will be there to raise the tot. And, of course, Gramma and Grampa are.

No one seems compelled to tell these selfish young people that doing this is a strain on society, on families, etc.

Not that fatherhood is in the hearts of these adolescent procreating boys, mind you. Far from it. Actually raising the brat they inevitably create never dawns on them. They still want to play.
And the girl is no better. She drops the miscreant off at her parents, who feel obliged and guilty over the child's lot in life, and they raise them without criticizing the daughter or son who put them in this predicament.

It is now beyond 21 years since I left a full-time job, in order to raise my kids at home, and I have seen the results, myself on warehoused kids, and kids raised by grandparents. It ain't a pretty sight. Worse, it seems to be the norm, rather than the exception. And no one is allowed to criticize, because that would be intolerant. And phobic of some sort.

Profoundly sad it is to see the demise of our culture, given the onslaught of more barbaric and brutal cultures, Islam, in particular.

It is mentally taxing to think about for any longish period of time, I need some solitude.
Here is a salve for the soul battered by our unlovely, wretched culture:


Es war, als hätt` der Himmel
die Erde still geküßt,
daß sie im Blütenschimmer
von ihm nun träumen müßt.

Die Luft ging durch die Felder,
die Ähren wogten sacht,
es rauschten leis die Wälder,
so sternklar war die Nacht.

Und meine Seele spannte
weit ihre Flügel aus,
flog durch die stillen Lande,
als flöge sie nach Haus.

-Joseph von Eichendorff

Translation (also by Joseph von Eichendorff)

Moonlit Night

It was as if heaven had quietly kissed the earth,
So that she dreamt of him
In the shimmer of blossoms.

The breeze blew through the fields,
the ears of grain waved gently,
the woods whispered softly,
so starry-clear was the night.

And my soul
stretched its wings out wide,
and flew over the silent countryside
as if it were flying home.

-Joseph von Eichendorff

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Crucial Miley Cyrus News Parody with This Week's Haramfestivities

Yeah, the next time your best friend Leslie says that YOU'RE just being Miley, smack her back to reality with the bleakest forecast of Miley Cyrus Entertainment Depletion. EVER.
This week has been a homerun for cuisine at our house. First up, on Monday:

A tangy roasted chicken smothered in lemon juice, herbs, green olives and artichoke hearts. I have had a craving for Mediterranean food all summer. This fit the bill, nicely and was a breeze to make.

Set oven to 325 degrees.

1 cut up chicken
1 jar of green olives, not cocktail. I used dry cured olives in garlic.
1 small jar of artichoke hearts
1 tablespoon of Italian herbs
1 chopped shallot
3 cloves chopped garlic
1 whole lemon, zested and juiced
1/2 cup of extra virgin olive oil
Mix extra virgin olive oil, lemon juice, olives, artichoke hearts, Italian herbs, garlic, shallot salt, and pepper lightly together in a small bowl and pour over chicken pieces.
Bake in a shallow roasting pan for 1 hour, and if not thoroughly browned on the top, broil for 5 minutes more, until lightly browned.

And this is now officially my favorite potato dish.

Lemon Butter New Potatoes with Dill and Parsley

Boil 1 to 1 and 1/2 lbs. new potatoes til tender, in salty water for about 20-25 minutes. While draining in a strainer, melt one stick of unsweetened butter with the juice and zest of one lemon, 1/2 tablespoon of dill weed, and 1/4 cup of freshly chopped parsley. Cut new potatoes in half and add back to pan with the melted butter and lemon juice mixture and toss with kosher salt and black pepper till completely coated with herbal joy.
You will never eat potatoes the same old way you have usually eaten them, I promise.

Tonight's delight: Chicken Enchiladas in a creamy salsa verde

I think I have finally perfected this recipe. It takes some time, but it is worth it.

2 lbs of boneless, skinless chicken breast
1 can cream of chicken soup
1 can green sauce for enchiladas
1 8 oz tub of sour cream
1 8 oz brick of cream cheese, room temperature
1 small can of cream corn
2 tablespoons of recaito (cilantro salsa, made by GOYA)
1 tablespoon jalapeño relish
1 8 oz block of pepper jack cheese, grated
1 cup of shredded cheddar cheese.
2 packs of corn tortillas (20)

Cook chicken in a little oil til just done. Shred with two forks and put the meat aside.
In one bowl, combine soup, enchilada sauce and sour cream and whisk together til creamy.
In another bowl, mix creamed corn and cream cheese until fluffy. Add pepper jack cheese with shredded chicken and thoroughly mix.
Fill a large pot with water and boil. When water begins to boil, cover with a screened lid, the kind used for frying, and place tortillas over the steam, until they become malleable enough to roll up without breaking. If you use flour tortillas, you can skip this process, but I think the corn tastes better. Place a spoonful of the chicken mixture at the lower edge of the tortilla and roll up, flattening out the tortilla as you roll it up, in order to spread the mixture to the edges of the tortilla.
Ladle some of the green sauce into the bottom of a lasagna pan, and place filled enchiladas tightly together. When pan is full, spread the enchilada sauce over them, and cover completely. Sprinkle with cheddar cheese shreds and bake in a 350 degree oven uncovered, for 25 minutes.
Remove from oven and let rest, otherwise, you'll burn your face off, and goop will dribble all over the place. You can serve this with beans and rice, but this was enough on its own. And the best part is the leftovers. Lots of lovely leftovers. Mmmmmmm.

Some Roumanian Dances: Béla Bartók

Bring on the shortage, Miley. We are all survivors here.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Take a Ride on the Taqiyyah Train

Hi keeds, since Ramadan, oh, sorry Hugh, the HOLY month of Ramadan will soon be upon us, (Mark yer calendars for September 1th to September 31th!) I thought I would offer up some lovely gift ideas for that special ass-holian taxi driver who might not be a 'dog' person. And of course, what wine to get, right?

Here are some of the toys the boys might like for Eid. And of course, we mustn't forget the girls!

Oh, I am so very sorry! You do not know what to get your favorite St. Paul taxi driver? Well, it is because you are an ignorant, filthy infidel, and as such, it behooves me, yes, really, really behooves me to educate you about the festivities.

And to help me do that is the Preacher of Peace, hisself, Siraj Wahhaj.

Understanding Islam, with the help of Madison Avenue, gentle subway riders!

And since The Holy Month of Ramadan™ is in full swing on the most depressing day of the year, September 11th, (wtf, right?) it would be such a nice distraction from all the pity parties that usually take place in the New York area on the 11th.

Here are some of the ads to look for on your Ramadan ride through New York, come September:
From Snapped Shot and TNOYF:

I like this one advertising the availability and plenitude of Jews in New York. You can never have enough Jews for your Ramadan needs.

I think this one in particular really hits the mark, understandingwise.

And the tots are all into the whole Batman, caped crusader thing...oops, did I say that, really?
My bad.

I know I will be pigging out come September....I always pack on the pounds during the holidays.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Yes, some things ARE too good to be true, and we like them.

Domino's Scientists Test Limits Of What Humans Will Eat

I couldn't resist. H/T ALLAHPUNDIT at

Hot days and light fare

Aaaah, the pleasures of Western Civilization.

It is a hot, humid dog day today. Too hot to be outside grilling steak. Last night, a refreshing breeze caught our nice umbrella'd patio table with its mottled glass table top and blew it over, smashing it to countless bits of tiny fragments in the yard. It would have been more thoughtful of the wind to topple the table on the patio itself, relieving my husband the arduous task of picking up tiny, iddy biddy bits of glass, but nature is capricious, and he spent two hours picking up all the fragments.

Now the patio has its grill and assembled chairs, but no shady umbrella and table. It looks like a funeral out there. Oh well, we eat in tonight, under the fan.
And no grilling for the man. Now that it is summer, he is outdoors most of the days, painting, which means being out in the hot sun, on high ladders, upsetting the wasp nest under the shudder he didn't realize was there, and not falling to his death trying to avoid it. Yes, something he doesn't need is grilling.

Here is a simple meal, consisting of sauteed boneless, skinless chicken breasts, sliced thinly, with capers, olives, penne and pesto sauce.

While I can make my own pesto, the cost is prohibitive since I don't have an herb garden. Fresh herbs in the quantity I would need are very expensive at the store, so I buy either the fresh refridgerated kind or Classico brand. Classico is superior, in my humble opinion, because it is the least expensive, and I have tried Buitoni and other brands....all quite good. But for price, and taste, Classico is best and it is right next to the spaghetti sauces.

Just saute the chicken in olive oil, add olives, any kind you like, a good hand full of capers with the brine, and the entire jar of pesto sauce. Ladle a couple of spoons full of the hot pasta water into the empty jar and swish it around, in order to get all the yummy bits out. Pour the water into the sauce and stir. The starchy water adds a creamy quality to the sauce. Drain your pasta, sprinkle with the zest of one lemon and some parmesan, and there's yer no grill dinner, mam'selle. And as always, garlic bread. (Okay, it was Texas toast with garlicky cheese on it.)


The last post was by my liberal alter ego Tonya Greipenweiner, or Every Undergraduate You Ever Met, Who, Like, Totally Knows More than You, You Racist Beeyotches.... and here she is.
(Actually, I have no idea who this fine, upstanding anarchist is. I found her at Flickr, and she looked like she needed to be pwn3d. I am merely fulfilling my need to pwn her, is all.)

Lovely, ain't? Why is it that everyone who sports that ugly Rag of Palesimian Self-Destruction either looks like a terrorist or a Terrorist Cheerleader? Why not lighten up a bit and chill. It is quite hot out. Have some dinner. It's even halaal!

Of course, the Israelis have their own Scarf Counter protest going on. And the Pallies aren't too happy about it, either.

Here is the Israeli version of the keffiyeh:

As usual, the Israelis always do things bestiest, and manage to look quite happy besting their sullen, resentful neighbors. Just another reason to love Western Civilization all the more!

Thursday, July 17, 2008

And now, a message from Our Sponsered Sock Puppet

Hello, again, Spencer FitzLemmings.

I, Tonya Greipenweiner, authority in Arab Hubris Studies and expert in Middle Eastern Histrionics, see that you all have your panties in a major intellectual wedgie over *ahem* a CALENDAR? Wow. So mature of you all. Too bad none of you seemed to have graduated to actual READING levels of any kind, because, if you did, you would have read the article instead of foaming at the mouth over Mosque pr0n.
In celebration of Ramadan, Global Publishing Solutions (GPS) is offering a limited edition of the 2009 Mosques in America Wall Calendar. This 12-month calendar is perfect for Muslim outreach efforts, as well as office and event giveaways.

Like, DUH and all that entails, right? It's just a MUSLIM OUTREACH tool, to educate all you schtoopid and frightened little Christians about, drum roll, please, MUSLIM OUTREACH! I mean, it's in honor of RAMADAN, which is like Christmas, but without the baby Jebus.
Clearly, you are all nothing but a bunch of ISLAMOPHOBES, quaking in your own fear. You are all so, so very, very sad. Get over it, already.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Drek Fest!

Sorry to Haid and all the folks who visit. I haven't had the time to post a full thought. I have been able to put down some ideas in the Hyperventillating File. Here are some thoughts I want to write about:

"Racism is What you Won't Eat"
"On Language and Music and why the hell can't Die Hard Evolutionists explain Beauty and Deep sh!t like that, to me. Try and convince me it all crawled outta the primordial ooze."
"More fun with the Brits. (An ongoing series of mockery and derision at their self-inflicted demise)"
"Apostates and the Jaish al-Murtadin (Army of Murtads)

I have been working without benefit of much sleep. Which causes me to say dumb things that my middle child, Mary remembers and parrots back to me at unexpected moments. My daughter and I are substituting for a friend, doing her early morning route....this in addition to my night job as a baker, and my thankfully sporadic day job as piano teacher and translator. I get about 3 hours of sleep a day, with a nap here and there. What's eight hours of sleep? HaH! We had over 500 papers to deliver today alone, and usually its about 200 a day.

During which, I have listened to " I kissed a Girl" for the last time. I started singing with the radio whenever it came on, and finally, my voice gave out, and now I sing it like Marge Simpson. No kidding.

it used to be that musical lyrics used to be lovely, broad themes pertaining to universal human experiences in love and life and death, but now, thanks to Miley Cyrus, I get to hear Mary singing, "My best friend Leslie said, "Oh, she's just being Miley." Whatever the hell that means!

Not that I'm complaining, mind you. You have to do whatever you must in order to keep awake! So trust me, when I say, making up new lyrics to "I kissed a Girl" and other songs is one of the funner aspects of absurd early morning work hours.

What I really hope is that a bunch of fat, pimple faced, untalented American Idol contestants try out singing "I kissed a girl" badly as only deluded American Idol contestants can sing it...just to finally be the death knell of that infernal song.
I will tell you that this little side job has brought me and the irksome middle child closer. She has had a devil of a time getting work, and this route will bring her over 250 smackers for just 6 days of 2 and a half hours a morning. Her probation officer will be thrilled!

So, Jaujau is very tired, and that is why I haven't been blogging. And egads! I have been making barely edible food...much to the enjoyment of my youngest, who simply doesn't appreciate my eggplant parmesan. And do NOT ask her about chicken livers. Such a delicacy. Sigh.

So. Very, very Tired. So tired, in fact, that the following video makes me cry, too.