Thursday, October 30, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
I just love those guys at The People's Cube. I can't wait to see what Br'er Bama has in store for those deliciously mischievous little muckrakers.
Obama's WealthSpread™: I Can't Believe It's Not Earned!
By Red Square
While canvassing neighborhoods in Ohio this Sunday, Barack Obama advised a tax-burdened plumber not to worry about money because under his presidency money will disappear since it will no longer have any meaning anyway. Instead, all Americans will be living off Obama's highly nutritive WealthSpread™ formula that is surprisingly low in effort and is being promoted by a group of leading nutritionists known as the Cook Fringe of the Democrat Party under the brand name "I Can't Believe It's Not Earned!"
"Your new tax plan is going to tax me more, isn't it?" the plumber asked, complaining that he was being taxed "more and more for fulfilling the American dream."
"It's not that I want to punish your success," Obama responded. "I just want to make sure that everybody who is behind you, that they've got a chance for success too ... I think when you spread the wealth around, it's good for everybody."
"So instead of cutting taxes with a kitchen knife we'll butter it up with wealth and spread it around like we earned it," the Democratic candidate continued. "It's a patented foreign blend that is guaranteed to help improve my standing in the polls, but it's made with 100% pure American taxpayer sweat, which once again shows how taxes can be patriotic."
When asked to clarify how exactly this plan was going to work, Obama, who is currently ahead in the polls, explained that it was "quite simple: everyone will be contributing according to his abilities and consuming according to his needs, while special observers will be making sure that a worker's contribution does not go above or below the approved list of his abilities. Special distributors will also be making sure that a worker's needs do not exceed the quota based on the availability of the WealthSpread™ formula."
"And, of course, there will also be watchers who will watch these watchers, and the watchers who will watch those watchers, and so on - leading to a full guaranteed employment for everybody."
"What's not to vote for?" Obama finished as he was cheered on by a group of supporters wearing blue pins with the Obama logo and the words "Journalists for Obama."
When the inquiring plumber, in turn, was confronted with a question whether he would like to be in charge of determining his neighbor's needs and WealthSpread™ rations in his community, he lowered his eyes and admitted in a hushed voice that it sounded like an offer he couldn't refuse.
Obama frequently rails against what he calls an immoral Republican concept of tax breaks that somehow "trickle down" to the rest of Americans, contrasting it with the beneficial effects his own low-effort WealthSpread™ formula that he claims has nothing in common with what his opponents label as "wealth redistribution."
Meanwhile, Brother Younger is putting together an End of Days as We Know Them Barbecue, and I was ruminating on what to bring while dining on mediocre fare at Friendly's, tonight. Bleccch. I ordered a scoop of vanilla ice cream with caramel sauce, and then, while the waitress and hubster and Rachel looked on in horror, I grabbed the salt shaker and sprinkled a couple of shakes of salt over it. The waitress walked away, while the husband choked on the question, "Why on earth did you do THAT?" Well, I was taste testing something I saw on Tyler Florence's show, Tyler's Ultimate. This afternoon's Ultimate included a semi-freddo with Salted Caramel Sauce, or as the French who have perfected the recipe say:
Sauce Caramel au Beurre Salé.
And yes, you absolutely must bookmark Smitten Kitchen. And visit her site...often. I have a couple of sites I like, and the top foodies on my blog who rank higher than me are Mermaid's Treasure, Smitten Kitchen, Homesick Texan and Over a Tuscan Stove, whose links are all on the left.
Which brings me back to the salted caramel at Friendly's. The salt was a wonderful complement to the sweetness of the sauce. Just a light seasoning of salt improves the flavor of caramel so much that you can't imagine ever having it without it.
So, I will be bringing to our pre-funerial Monday Night Eve of Destruction Last Supper, the following: Saint Louis Ribs, (forgive me, a Kansas Citian) Vanilla Bean Ice Cream with homemade Salted Caramel Sauce...courtesy of Deb @ Smitten Kitchen. I would kill to find out where I can buy the French salted butter here in Lancaster PA. S.Clyde Weaver sells a lovely New Zealand butter that they use to make Sand Tarts, I may give it a try...or else bring roasted and salted sunflower seeds to sprinkle over the sundaes. (Note: In Lancaster, Sand Tarts are exquisite buttery sugar cookies, rolled as thinly as possible, cut into different shapes, brushed with egg wash with a crushed pecan topping piled in the center....usually. They are typically made at Christmas time. Since cookie making is an individual thing, there are many different recipes for sand tarts, and I tried to look up a Google image of sand tarts....they all look different from each other, and nothing resembled the Sand Tarts I make. They are very labor intensive to make, but worth it. I will write up a Christmas Recipe for them and take my own pics of them, since I saw nothing on Google that resembled a Lancaster County Sand Tart.)
Oh, yes! One More Thing! Congratulations to Matt and Vanessa Huacani on the arrival of their bundle of Joy! Lily Annette Huacani made her appearance on Saturday the 25th of October. Mom is recovering nicely.I can't believe I have known you since you were 9! You are now one of Us....parents, that is!
Monday, October 27, 2008
The last several days have not been very pleasant. My twice a year bout with Bronchitis Death Match was going swimmingly, like drowning goes swimmingly before the actual drowning happens. Luckily, just as I was sitting there in an upright position and not moving unnecessarily, I was introduced to a new level of Hot Baked Fresh Hell with a slice of Where on Earth did I get this Painful Wound With the Purplish Black Sludge Oozing out, and When Will It Stop syndrome. So far, the bronchitis is winning, but the purplish black sludge has stopped, leaving behind an angry looking scab. I thought it was a pimple. Silly me. I haven't had a pimple in nearly 25 years or so. Oh well, I suppose it could be worse. It could be Tuesday November 4th and I could be wheezing and oozing during an Obama celebratory dance of death and constitution burning party. BYOF! (Bring Your Own Flag!) So there's still time to come up with food fit for a Wake.
On a more promising note, Irksome Middle Child was all for voting for Obama, until I told her this story I read, by Citizen Warrior @ Infidel Bloggers Alliance.
A Parable For Our Time
Today on my way to lunch I passed a homeless guy with a sign that read "Vote Obama, I need the money." I laughed.
Once in the restaurant my server had on a "Obama 08" button, again I laughed as he had given away his political preference — just imagine the coincidence.
When the bill came I decided not to tip the server and explained to him that I was exploring Obama's "redistribution of wealth" concept. He stood there in disbelief while I told him that I was going to redistribute his tip to someone who I deemed more in need — the homeless guy outside. The server angrily stormed away from me.
I went outside, gave the homeless guy $10 and told him to thank the server inside as I've decided he could use the money more. The homeless guy was grateful.
At the end of my rather unscientific redistribution experiment I realized the homeless guy was grateful for the money he did not earn, but the waiter was pretty angry that I gave away the money he did earn, even though the actual recipient needed the money more.
I guess redistribution of wealth is an easier thing to swallow in concept than in practical application.
My Number 2 daughter discovered the evils of wealth redistribution, when she got her first paycheck of January 2006, that she'd been looking forward to all week..... she was left with .21. Yes. That's right, .21.
How? How could you only get .21 on a paycheck after working for more than 25 hours in the week? Well....our slimebag governor Ed Rendell and his Pennsylvania Kleptocrats passed a law allowing local townships and buroughs to raise the 'local occupational tax' from 10 dollars a year to as much as 52. Do you think Lancaster restrained itself and raised the occupational tax to 20 for the year? Oh No....that would be, you know, restrained, and all. Nope. They went whole hog and raised it to the maximum. And who got hit the hardest? Was it the rich who don't never no how pay their fair share? Uh-uh. It was the working poor. The teen employee working part time and going to school. The unskilled laborer. People like my then teenage daughter, holding a worthless piece of paper with .21 on it all hers to spend, she cried some bitter angry tears.
Now she is in college. What are the chances that Obama's Socialist Worker's Paradise Scheme will persuade her to vote for him? Not a chance in Hell.
Update: The Chowder was a major success! We followed up with a Nice Creamy Coconut Custard Pie.
Infidel Cooking Show
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Last Saturday, when Sarah Palin made her brief appearance on Saturday Night Live, she stopped here in Lancaster, Pretzelvania for a pep rally before heading into the lion's den.
I didn't get to go, but here is a video of that appearance....and my only gripe with La Sarah is that she mangled the pronunciation of Hero Township. It is pronounced LAN-kis-ter in these parts. Most people in the country would say LAN-CAS-ter, since there are plenty of Lancasters in the US of A, but I have never ever heard her say it her own spayshul way. Listen for it.
NOTE: THIS VIDEO WILL NOT APPEAR ON INTERNET EXPLORER 6 OR 7. USE FIREFOX 3, OPERA OR SAFARI. IF IT DOESN'T APPEAR IN CHROME LEAVE A COMMENT TELLING ME. THANK YOU. THE STAFF AND MANAGEMENT.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
No Place To Hide Transcript via the Reality Zone
Watch the videos: embedding is disabled.
What is interesting about this 1980 Public Television special, is that it would probably never be made today. If it were to be produced at all, it would be coming from the Marxist world view that so permeates academia and the press today. The benefits of a university education. Sowing seeds for our future destruction. We are reaping the firestorm of a whirwind created a half century ago. How long will it take to undo the damage? Certainly not in one election cycle.
Posted by Joe Noory @ 'No Pasaran'
Thank You, Europe for all Your Wonderful IdeasFrom the narrator of No Place to Hide:
Change and hope, 60's style: Ayres Weather Underground planned to kill 25 million Americans in re-education camps
"I bought up the subject of what's going to happen after we take over the government. We, we become responsible, then, for administrating, you know, 250 million people.
And there was no answers. No one had given any thought to economics; how are you going to clothe and feed these people.
The only thing that I could get, was that they expected that the Cubans and the North Vietnamese and Chinese and the Russians would all want to occupy different portions of the United States.
They also believed that their immediate responsibility would be to protect against what they called the counter-revolution. And they felt that this counter-revolution could best be guarded against by creating and establishing re-education centers in the southwest, where we would take all the people who needed to be re-educated into the new way of thinking and teach them... how things were going to be.
(I) asked, well, what's going to happen to those people that we can't re-educate; that are die-hard capitalists. And the reply was that they'd have to be eliminated. And when I pursued this further, they estimated that they would have to eliminate 25 million people in these re-education centers. And when I say eliminate, I mean kill. 25 million people.
I want you to imagine sitting in a room with 25 people, most of which have graduate degrees from Columbia and other well known educational centers, and hear them figuring out the logistics for the elimination of 25 million people.
And they were dead serious."
Larry Grathwohl, former member of the Weather Underground.
- Thank you, Stavn Pirana
Griffin: One of the problems with the subject of terrorism is that new events are occurring daily, and it's never possible to remain completely up to date. By the time you see this program, undoubtedly there will have been more bloodshed and more human suffering almost everywhere in the world, but the pattern will not have changed. In the final analysis, the pattern of terrorism is more important than the repetitious details, because, if we can recognize that pattern, we have a chance to anticipate the next development and, then hopefully, to be able to do something about it.
The strategy of terrorism is bizarre, but it works. It has already succeeded in many countries, and it's well into the middle or final stages of development in the rest of the world. It definitely can happen here.
Our defense does not lie in specially trained military units or in new psychological techniques for negotiating with terrorists. The only way to combat terrorism is to prevent it, and that requires an efficient intelligence network. The issue is clear. We must pick up the pieces and re-assemble our internal security system.
The Marxist-Leninists could never succeed if their intended victims were aware of the strategy and tactics being used against them. By the same token, if these ploys remain unknown to the average person, then no amount of intelligence operations or internal security can protect us, because innocent people, particularly among the youth who are being exposed to the theories of Marx and Lenin, will fall into the trap, and new revolutionaries will be created faster than the old ones can even be identified. So the ultimate solution lies in an informed electorate, the rock foundation of any system that hopes to remain free.
These are the people who make up the America-hating organizations that your future president Barack H. Obama calls friends and neighbors.
Hot Air has the most comprehensive case against electing Obama.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
It is getting cold out and time to break out the soup kettle. I live for homemade soup. Nothing comforts like a hot, creamy sea food chowder. My secret to a good chowder base: Hondashi Soup Base. It is a powder made from Bonito, a dried fish flake used in Japanese soup-making.
Follow the directions, if you have them in English. It doesn't have any salt in it, so you will have to season it well. Hondashi adds a depth of flavor to chowder. I am always asked, "Hmm...what IS that flavor?" Well, don't tell anyone, but it's the hondashi.
For exquisite seafood chowder, select several kinds of shell fish and fish. Clams, oysters, canned or fresh, shrimp, scallops....it really matters only if you are on a budget. Save all the liquids from the canned stuff. I add a good hearty meaty white fish, that won't fall apart in the soup.
Here is what I use to make a hearty seafood chowder:
4 Tbsp Hondashi to 2 quarts of water, mix and let it simmer on low while you do everything else. Add a pinch of salt to the soup base.
1 onion, large roughly cut
3 stalks of celery, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
3 carrots, cut into chunks
4 rashers of bacon, fried, crumbled and reserve the drippings.
5 red potatoes (not russets) not peeled, diced
2 Tablespoons of white flour
1 package of frozen corn
parsley and dill weed
Assorted fish and seafood.
(oysters, clams, mussels, crab or lobster meat, fresh white fish cut into chunks, at least 2 lbs.)
salt and pepper, to taste.
1 quart of heavy cream.
...supplemented with a loaf of hot crusty sour dough bread.
First, dice 3 stalks of celery and a very large yellow onion and 2 cloves of garlic.
Cook off 4 rashers of bacon and saute the chopped veggies in the fat. Or you can skip the bacon and use butter. Sometimes I add chopped leftover ham to the soup in addition to all the other goodies I put in.
After sauteeing onions, celery and garlic, add carrots, potatoes and corn. Saute for a few minutes more, seasoning with salt and pepper, and a couple of dashes of nutmeg, too, if you like. Sprinkle the flour into the vegetable mix and let it begin to thicken as a roux. Pour everything into the pot of simmering hondashi stock. Stir til the flour is dissolved and there are no flour lumps.
Begin layering the clams and oysters in, followed by scallops and shrimp, and then lastly by the white fish. Do this in increments of 5 minutes. I prefer the cheaper canned oysters and clams, for convenience' sake, as well as price.
When things look almost cooked through, add the cream, scallions, dill weed and parsley. Sometimes, just to brighten things up, before I add the cream, I add the zest and juice of one lemon.
Serve with the bread and crumbled bacon. Swig a hot mug of spiced cider and curl up with a good book and your favorite music.
It was at that point I had to ask myself, "What kind of low life am I to be betting on something so horrible as this? Even casually?" And I realized, pretty horrible. And I was only the librarian. My job was never to write opinions or pontificate on the world around me. It was to file and categorize stories we'd written and published for our databases. It was to do research for the reporters, and help folks who were looking into their genealogies and kids who needed help on their essays and term papers. I enjoyed doing this. I liked being a catalog of instant information. It came easy to me and I always felt great helping others with their facts.
I considered myself well-read, and informed, and yet, because I was a conservative, I had to put up with a lot of snobbish bile. Back in 1993 it was no big deal, I just considered it part of the job. I developed a sense of humor about it, and often made fun of their sensitivities, saying, "The motto of journalists is Tolerance through Intimidation." I said that back in '94. It is even more true now.
Here we are 14 years later and it has gotten nastier. I quit in 95 because I didn't like being part of the slime festival that I believe journalism had become. Even a few of the librarians had that holier than thou attitude. But even before I quit, I encountered this in places normally considered quite conservative, like Billings Montana, where I worked in the composing room of the newspaper with editors all night long. You wouldn't have believed the insane meltdown they had collectively when Reagan was reelected in 1984. Their anger was just beginning to manifest itself. Back then, I just thought it hilarious, but now, not so much.
For your consideration: Samuel Joseph Wurzelbacher, plumber, Holland, Ohio. He owes back taxes and he's divorced, and he would like to buy his boss' plumbing business one day. He asked The One how that could be possible with the kind of punitive taxation He proposed. The One reassured him, saying that they just wanted to spread the wealth around, and Mr. Wurzelbacher correctly pointed out that this was Socialism, not the American Way. WELL! The press and the leftist douche-tards blogosphere have been investigating everything this poor man has ever done in his life and vilified him in the process.
So now it has come down to this: If you deign to ask your elected officials a genuine, heartfelt question about a policy, and they answer in a way that troubles you, and you say "Hey, that doesn't sound like a good idea at all!", will you be given the 'Plumber's Treatment'? What's an ordinary citizen to do, cowed and fearful of an attack by a press that has finally shed all pretense to objectivity and gladly lends itself to being the cudgel that silences EVERYONE ELSE'S free speech? Here are some ideas:
First, a pre-emptive apology for the intentional non-humor to follow. I promise that all future non-humor will be strictly unintentional.A lot of style without actually hoping for a change in press behavior. Still, his heart is in the right place. He's much more deliciously dangerous when he's funny. Seriously.
We've all witnessed a lot of insanity in American politics over the last few years. Up until the last few days, none of it has seriously bothered me; hey, just more grist for the satire mill. But after witnessing the media's blitzkreig on Joe 'the Plumber' Wurzelbacher, I can only muster anger, and no small amount of fear.
Politicians -- Sarah Palin, Bill Clinton, et al. -- obviously have to put up with some rude, nasty shit, but it's right there in the jobs description. Joe the Plumber is different. He was a guy tossing a football with his kid in the front yard of his $125,000 house when a politician picked him out as a prop for a 30 second newsbite for the cable news cameras. Joe simply had the temerity to speak truth (or, if you prefer, an uninformed opinion) to power, for which the politico-media axis apparently determined that he must be humiliated, harassed, smashed, destroyed. The viciousness and glee with which they set about the task ought to concern anyone who still cares about citizen participation, and freedom of speech, and all that old crap they taught in Civics class before politics turned into Narrative Deathrace 3000, and Web 2.0 turned into Berlin 1932.0.
Godwin's Law! you say? if the jackboot fits, wear it.
If it's meta-memes and meta-meta-narratives these media headlice want, so be it. I hope you will join me in expressing a simple bit of solidarity with this guy, Spartacus style. I AM JOE. I am a Wal Mart schlub in flyover country who changes my own oil and unclogs drains without a license. I smoke and drink beer and toss the football in the front yard with my kid, and I figure I can fend my way without handouts from some Magic Messiah's candy bags. Most everyone in my family and most everyone I grew up with is another Joe, and if you screw with them, you screw with me.
Are you a Joe? Say it proud. Leave it on every goddamn newspaper comment section and online forum. Let these pressroom and online thugs know you won't stay silent when they try to destroy the life of a private citizen for speaking his mind -- because for every one of them, there are a million Joe Wurzelbachers. And for that we should all be thankful.
and from Ace of Spades
Re: Vetting the MediaI liked this comment from 'someone':
A lot of people want to know why we shouldn't begin "vetting" the media -- and by "vetting," I do in fact mean vetting. I mean starting a fund to put fucking detectives on them and begin outing them, one by one:
In the closet.
Hits his wife.
Fucking her editor.
Stoned out of his mind on coke half the time.
And to reduce costs, I'm sure some budding citizen journalists-detectives would be wiling to take a night a week following these bastards around, taking pictures.
The media's position that Joe the Plumber who merely asked a question must be "vetted" out of existence certainly supports the full-blown "vetting" of them.
After all, far more turns on the questions they ask and... refuse to ask, more importantly.
Will we do this?
I've had angry phases where I was within inches of proposing just this. Even starting a corporation with limited liability protections to do so.
It may be time.
But not now. There are only two weeks left. The media isn't changing. They are in the tank for Obama; this is the full-court press. If we "got" one or two of these bastards by election day, what effect? None.
However, I have been loathe to even post such a notion in the past. It's too ugly, too vicious.
It is their own "rule" -- those who ask questions that harm one's preferred candidate must be hounded and harassed and humiliated until they are silenced.
If this is the rule they impose on everyday citizens, it's time for everyday citizens to impose it on them.
Yes, this is where we're headed. And while I used to greet the prospect with disgust, now I'm comfortable with it.
It is their own "rule."
They will have to live by it, same as all of us.
Joe the Plumber was the last straw.
He was the last "freebie."
"What the media doesn't understand is that once they unleash Anonymous on them, they're fucked.
"None of us is as cruel as all of us."
(And yes, it won't necessarily be *that* Anonymous, but same thing.)"
It is going to be a long cruel, asymmetrical war against ourselves. That much is for sure. No use thinking that we can pretend that all is well in America. Many festering wounds are going to be lanced, and soon. (For what it's worth, I don't see many yard signs or bumper stickers this time, although I have seen plenty of this one:
Friday, October 17, 2008
Hat Tip to Evariste for turning me on to Sabra Hummus. It has been the only thing I want for lunch these days. It packs more joy and happiness on a toasted flat bread than fused chicken parts and cheap toys in a McDonald's Crappy Meal.
Some music for my Sabra Hummus Fest
Light, creamy, packed with protein, it's a well-blended marriage of tahini, garlic, lemon, with a li'l sump-sump special only the Sabranites know about, and aaaaaah... you simply become a willing addict and proselytizer of the food and the brand.
(Warning: if you click on the Sabra link, you will go directly to their website, be greeted by the sunny and dance motivating sounds of Greek music, and I won't be responsible for any money you happily part company with, either.)
So now it comes down to this: Who would find fault with Sabra and for what reason?
Just all the usual suspects.
From Elder of Ziyon:
Israel Haters Document Themselves Breaking Federal LawWell, it only gets more interesting from that point on. Face it. The Left, for all its bristling with umbragey angst, insanity and tolerance is anything but. Fortunately for us, that makes the unhinged and idle segment of our country all that more entertaining. Where would we be without Mrs. Rodham Clinton calling her detractors "The Vast Right Wing Conspiracy"? Damn, I'd wish I'd thought of it first, because that is the best name for a group of people who conspire together and just happen to be vast AND right wing. I'm so joining, AND I will be the one who brings the Rice Krispies Treats for the next VRWC gathering. All the conspiring we'll get done!
Thursday, October 16th, 2008
San Francisco-based terrorist supporters have started a campaign to stick labels on foods on market shelves that they perceive as being Israeli.
As Dusty points out in the comments, this breaks a Federal law:
" Product Packaging Protection Act of 2002 - Amends the Federal criminal code to prohibit intentionally tampering with a consumer product that is sold in interstate or foreign commerce by knowingly placing or inserting any writing in the product or in its container before its sale to any consumer without the consent of the product manufacturer, retailer, or distributor. Defines "writing" as any form of representation or communication, including graphic or pictorial representations.
Subjects violators to a fine and imprisonment of up to one year, or up to three years for a second or subsequent violation."
Luckily, on Indybay they documented themselves breaking this law at a Safeway supermarket (and pretending that they were "random Jewish customers" with names like "Moshe Cohen.")
The commenters helpfully point out that small Arab markets in Berkeley also sell Israeli goods. h/t dusty
And here we are, ten years later, Rice Krispie treats in hand CONSPIRING! Thank you Samizdat Media! But let us continue with the Elder's absurdist subverters:
Ya Gotta Love the Left
Thursday, October 16th, 2008
This morning I posted about an article in a San Francisco Indymedia site about far-left rabid Israel haters proudly damaging consumer goods.
One commenter here mentioned that his comment at Indymedia was deleted, so I checked out what else was going on at that page.
Indymedia has a published policy of what sort of articles and comments it deletes (or "hides.") The policy is:
"SF Bay Area IMC is founded on the principle of open publishing. Reality dictates that the editorial collective will at times decide to hide posts and comments. This is not a decision that is taken lightly, however, and the editorial collective does its best refrain from hiding. Our vision for the function of the newswire, and the general framework in which all decisions to hide will be made, are as follows:
* The newswire is intended to be a community media resource, a space free from spam and abuse in general; and
* That space will not contribute to the oppression of traditionally oppressed and marginalized groups.
Members of the Editorial Collective are permitted to hide posts or comments as long as that person's decision is based on at least one of the following three points:
* The post or comment constitutes abuse of the newswire (see note below);
* The post or comment undermines the Principles of Unity of the SF Bay Area IMC; e.g., right-wing propaganda or hate speech; or
* The post or comment constitutes a spam attack (see below) on the newswire.
The editorial collective may remove copyrighted material on request of the copyright owner. At any time another Editorial Collective member may dispute the hiding of a post or comment, based on our Principles of Unity or this policy.
Comments, questions, and feedback regarding this policy are highly encouraged. Please write us at email@example.com."
Here are two comments that were made that Indymedia, that bastion of free speech, felt went over the line:
"Why I am posting a comment
Thursday Oct 16th, 2008 11:10 AM
I discovered your site when I visited Elderofziyon, where it was pointed out that whoever is putting these stickers on products is breaking Federal Law. I wanted to see for myself the kind of people who flout the laws of the country they live in and feel morally, ethically obliged to improve the behavior of people in other countries.
I discover that the people who call for support a boycott of hummus lack the integrity to boycott Israeli products like cell phone and computer technology or pharmaceuticals - presumably because it would inconvenience them.
And, when I returned to this site, I discovered that comments offering opposing opinions are soon deleted.
So I am writing to suggest you are a bunch of criminal hypocrites who cannot tolerate criticism, naively hoping that I will touch your conscience and you will let this comment stand."
"Boycott the racist, apartheid states of the Arab world!
by Yehudi Hazak
Thursday Oct 16th, 2008 11:11 AM
For the mother of all racism, xenophobia, sexism, and homophobia in the Middle East look at the "Arab" states many of which have large non-Arab minorities suffering under systematic discrimination and racist policies that keep them suppresed, such as the Kurds in Syria and Iraq, the Berbers in Morocco (where they actually outnumber Arabs) and Algeria, or the Assyrians in Iraq, or the black African and Christian southern Sudanese who suffered genocide at he hands of the the Arab Musims of northern Sudan over a horrific 20 year war that killed 2 million people. And where is indybay' conern about the genocide of non-arabs in Darfur? Oh, I forgot, taking the side of Arab nationalists in that one, too. And indybay's concern for the plight of LGBT in Arab and Muslim lands? Non-existent. Indybay's concern for gender equality, freedom of choice for women in the Arab and Muslim worlds? once again, non-existent.
You are all a bunch of moral hypocrites, obsessed about Israel, & willfully blind to the horrendous human rights disasters in the Arab and Muslim worlds, and as such your silence aids and abets the oppressors of the Middle East's non-Arab and non-Muslim minorities, women and LGBT.
BTW, you don't have to worry about the Jewish minorities in the Arab world: the Arab already ethnically cleansed 99% of the "their Jews" since 1948. Any concern by indybayers for this massive human rights crime? Likely not."
Both these comments were silently deleted.
So, which Indymedia rule did they break?
Does mentioning Arab bigotry against their minorities contribute to the oppression of a billion Arabs, whom Indymedia apparently feels is a "traditionally oppressed or marginalized group?"
Or is mentioning that gays are oppressed in Arab countries considered "right wing propaganda" or "hate speech"?"
Meanwhile, other articles at that site darkly hint at a conspiracy of a small number of manipulative evil Jews controlling America. But that's fine, because Indymedia doesn't consider the Jewish 0.2% of the world's population to be an oppressed minority - obviously Jews can walk freely in most places in the world without a problem, while a billion Muslims are huddled in fear, relying on their communist heroes to make the world a safer place for them.
As usual, those who scream the loudest about free speech are the ones who are in the forefront of quashing it.
UPDATE: One more comment posted and gone:
Both these comments were silently deleted.
"Putting your own labels on commercial packaged food is a crime...
Thursday Oct 16th, 2008 12:07 PM
Punishable by up to 3 yrs in prison. Enjoy!
But seriously, you bring up the 'don't let the evil Zionists distract you with their talk of other problems in the world!', but the truth is, the international 'left' is sick with a virus that has Jew-hatred at its core. Your obsessive focus on perceived injustice in Israel does definitely come at the expense of all the people who are suffering in other conflicts around the world. And on top of that, your understanding of the history of the conflict in the Middle East is hopelessly ignorant and filled with the evil lies that have been propagated by others before you.
But that's just my opinion, so carry on."
As usual, the good Elder shows far more class and wit than the Tolerance Pimps of the Human Rights Industrial Complex. Let us do all we can to battle the idiots of indymedia by rallying to the defense of Sabra. Please watch the following Public Service Announcement:
I know that if we come together in a vastish, right-wingy, conspiratorial way, we can end the war against Sabra by buying as much of their products as we can, and I'm betting I can make a savory Rice Krispie treat without the marshmallows that would be absolutely mahvelous with hummus or any of their other fine products. Buy Buy Buy!
Thursday, October 16, 2008
This is a photograph my friend Angela took from her house. It pretty much sums up what I feel about the near future of our country. Lost in a mist, and unsure of the path's direction, or even if we are on the correct path. While there is a little light, it feels like the light is waning, and darkness is impending. Here is a truly depressing look at the Marxist future that may be ours, selected by Imaginary-Americans:
From James@Parkway Rest Stop:
Letters from The Camp. (Vol. 1)
April 22, 2009
(Note: Around here, we are not permitted to say “2009;” we must say, “0001, in the Year of The One”)
I’ve been here for about a week now. Communication of any type with the outside is forbidden, but I managed to give this note to a sympathetic produce delivery man. I didn’t think I could print so small.
Here’s the story.
When I heard the knock on the door, I peeked through the window and saw the same two young, twenty-somethings outside my door. They call themselves “The Messiah’s Witnesses.” They had been coming to my house about every two weeks since the election last year and even more often since January, each time wanting to discuss my “aberrant” politics and to explain to me the wisdom of The Change.
The first few times they showed up I politely told them I was not interested in talking with them, but more recently, I had become more adamant in my refusal. Since their most recent visit, I had resolved that the next time they came knocking, I was going to tell them for once and for all to stay the hell off my property.
I opened the door, prepared to tell them to get lost, but before I could say a word, two men, each the size of an NFL lineman, leaped from the bushes on either side of the door, pinning my arms behind me and placing me in handcuffs. Once I was cuffed, another man, well-dressed and appearing to be in his forties, appeared from behind one of the bushes.
“Who the hell are you, and what the hell is going on here?” I screamed.
“My name is not important. My purpose is to advise you that, by order of Secretary of Education, William Ayers, effective immediately, you are directed to report to the Education Center in your Sector. We are here to transport you there.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I believe I spoke clearly. We are here to transport you to the Education Center in your Sector.”
“And what if I refuse?”
“Refusal is not an option.”
“Precisely, what have I done wrong?”
“You have done much wrong, starting with your failure to vote for The One, and, worse yet, your writing and saying things that question the wisdom of The One, not to mention your obvious resistance to The Change.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“I assure you that my mind is sound. It is your mind that needs work. You are to come with us now, and I mean right now. There is no need to gather any belongings, as The One will provide everything you need.”
“What about my family?” I asked. “Do you plan on kidnapping them too?”
“Your family will be permitted to remain in place, provided you cooperate with those who will guide you through your Learning Program. And, I must say that your use of the term ‘kidnapping’ is not a good start.”
“Well then, how about ‘Kiss my ass’ for a start.”
“Your attitude will not serve you or your family well. Let’s get moving.”
With that, I was hustled across my lawn to a school bus that seemed to appear from nowhere. The only thing that distinguished it from a regular school bus was the blackened windows. Upon being shoved into the bus, I saw other people I recognized, several of whom I knew to be veterans. When I tried to speak to them, the driver shouted that talking was not permitted. Everyone looked as dazed and confused as I felt.
The trip took a bit longer than an hour, but because of the blackened windows and my generally bad sense of direction, I had no idea where we were headed. Only when the bus arrived at its destination and we were herded off, did I recognize where I was. I remembered the place from 1968. It was the Fort Dix Reception Center, only now there was a sign over the entrance that said, “Camp Alinsky,” under which was written, “Embrace The Change.” Yes, this is the very same Fort Dix that Secretary of Education Ayers conspired to bomb in 1970, only now it was surrounded by razor wire and guard towers every two-hundred yards.
After our names were checked, we were led into a large auditorium for our “Initial Orientation.” In each corner of the large room stood men who were built like the goons who handcuffed me at my home. I later learned that they were called “Order Keepers” or “Ordners.” They looked menacing as they glared at the audience with their muscled arms folded over their massive chests. One of them broke his silence long enough to admonish the audience that speaking was not permitted.
Once the room was silent, a man in his fifties took the stage to address us. He said, “My name is Kwame Ondinga, and I am the Principal of Camp Alinsky. I would like to welcome you to your Education Program. I trust that you’ll find your initial orientation to be helpful.
“Each of you has been identified by Secretary of Education William Ayers as persons requiring education in order for you to fully embrace The Change.”
A few people, myself included, grumbled at such a notion, but the Ordners lowered their arms from their chests, signaling that grumbling was unacceptable.
“Your course of studies here is eight weeks long, and we encourage your active and enthusiastic participation.”
At that point, Ondinga instructed us in the proper method of recognition and and greeting. “You are to hold your arms chest-high, parallel to the ground, make two fists and press your knuckles together. You then separate your hands, thrust them forward and then bring them smartly to your sides. The proper and only acceptable form of greeting while executing this movement is to say, ‘Praise The One.’”
A few of us snickered, only to result in the Ordners screaming, “Silence!”
Ondinga continued, “I know that you all are anxious to know what is in store for you here, so let me briefly hit some of the high points. First, we will be spending a lot of time teaching you to deal with your racism.”
The room erupted in objections that even glares from the Orders couldn’t quell. Cries of “You’re crazy!” and “Bullshit!” filled the room.
One guy who was wearing a Marine Corps tee shirt stood and said to Ondinga, “I’ve about had it with this shit! I fought and bled with Marines who are black, and your claiming that just because I didn’t vote for, as you call him, ‘The One’ makes me a racist is pure bullshit, and I’m not about to sit here and put up with it.” The Ordners sprung into action and removed the guy from the room. I haven’t seen him since.
Another voice from the audience shouted, “What about the African Americans who also didn’t vote for ‘The One?’ Are they racists too?”
Ondinga, clearly annoyed by the question, replied, “We deal with them in a separate section of the camp.”
That remark dispelled any lingering doubt I might have had about how this was all going to work.
Ondinga continued, “Once you have come to terms with your racism, we will educate you in the wisdom of The Change. You will learn that we constantly strive to achieve what is best for the Common Good. Most of you will also be instructed on the subject of Global Warming and why it is counter to The Change to continue to be Deniers. That is basically the Core Curriculum here an Camp Alinsky. I’ll take some questions now, but, rest assured, most of your questions will be addressed in the next few days.”
One man stood up, and began to ask a question.
Ondinga cut him off saying, “I thought I just instructed you on the subject of the proper greeting.”
The man sat down, but Ondinga commanded him to stand and preface his question with the proper greeting. The man remained seated. Ondinga gave a signal to two of the Ordners, who ran to the man’s seat and dragged him to his feet.
“You will execute the proper greeting!” Ondinga said.
The room was silent, as everyone stared at the questioner, who was staring at the floor. Finally, the man looked up, raised his arms, placed his knuckles together and said, ‘Praise The One.’”
Ondinga returned the greeting. “Very good. Now, ask your question.”
“I was told when I was arrested that my family would be left alone. Can you confirm that?”
Ondinga replied, “First, we don’t use the term ‘arrested’ for helping you with transportation to the Education Center. As for your question, the answer is yes, as long as you successfully complete your Education Program, your family will be left alone.”
“What happens if at the end of the eight weeks you don’t think I successfully completed your Education Program?”
“In such cases, we give everyone a chance to repeat the program.”
“And what happens if, at the end of the repeat program, you still don’t think I’ve been successful.”
Ondinga answered, “We are confident that you will be successful.”
After a few more questions, about letters and telephone calls to the outside (None permitted), food (You’ll get what you need) and healthcare (We have a State Clinic on the premises), we were lead to another room to be issued our uniforms.
Each person was issued underwear, three grey shirts, three pairs of grey trousers, socks and black shoes. The shirts bore a name tag and the “O’ logo on the left sleeve. I noticed that my shirts all had a one-inch red “B” sewn on the front in the region of my chest.
I asked the person issuing the shirts why mine bore the letter “B.” He responded, “You must have been a Blogger.”
I said that I was indeed a blogger.
He smiled and said, “Bloggers get special attention.”
I knew I was in deep shit.
I’ll write again when I can.
I really hope our future isn't this grim, but I am not sure. If McCain wins, it may be the beginning of an urban guerilla war the likes of which we haven't seen since the mid-sixties, and he may prove to be even more vacillating than Bush the Younger. I will be posting an Election Day Mental Health Strategy which may prove both helpful and comforting, at least for a few days.
From Dr. Helen: The John Galt Option:
Going John Galt
Do you ever wonder after dealing with all that is going on with the economy and the upcoming election if it's getting to be time to "go John Galt." For those of you who have never read Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged, the basic theme is that John Galt and his allies take actions that include withdrawing their talents, 'stopping the motor of the world', and leading the 'strikers' (those who refuse to be exploited) against the 'looters' (the exploiters, backed by the government).
Perhaps the partisian politics we are dealing with now is really just a struggle between those of us who believe in productivity, personal responsibility, and keeping government interference to a minimum, and those who believe in the socialistic policies of taking from others, using the government as a watchdog, and rewarding those who overspend, underwork, or are just plain unproductive.
Obama talks about taking from those who are productive and redistributing to those who are not -- or who are not as successful. If success and productivity is to be punished, why bother? Perhaps it is time for those of us who make the money and pay the taxes to take it easy, live on less and let the looters of the world find their own way.
My question to readers is, what are some ways to "go John Galt" (legally, of course)--that is, should productive people cut back on what they need, make less money, and take it easy so that the government is starved for funds, or is there some other way of making a statement?
I will be voting, or maybe not. I haven't decided. I really don't know what I will do. But I know this: It will involve a good book, a hot cup of home made cocoa with peppermint and whipped cream, and orange scones.
Rent this movie tonight. I think it is one of the best movies I have seen in a long time. Visually, it is a feast for the eyes. Tarsem Singh has revived the art of storytelling, which these days has largely been replaced with a lot of anti-American and global baloney propagandizing. I haven't liked the movies for a very long time.
Here is possibly the best review of what I wish I could say.
Written by Chris Pandolfi:
I remember the days when I had stories read to me. I remember how it made me feel. Me and about twenty other kids would gather at the teacher's feet, and I would actually imagine the story unfolding as she read aloud. I think we all have those memories buried somewhere within, those wonderful moments when the spoken word transcends mere speech and becomes a definite vision. Tarsem's "The Fall" works in much the same way, not only for the characters, but also for the audience; reality and fantasy are interchangeable, not separate. People from our world appear in the story, and characters in the story are broadly drawn from the people in our world. It's much like the whimsical dreamscape of "The Wizard of Oz," in which Dorothy awakens in Kansas and realizes that the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, the Lion, and the Wizard were actually people she knew, therefore with her the entire journey.
But the dreamscape of "The Fall" is much more compelling than anything conjured out of whimsy. It's a character-driven fantasy that uses both its brain and its heart, with a story so compelling it doesn't let us escape. We don't much want to, especially if we hold true to the power of imagination and the hope of redemption. Paradoxically, it takes the imperfections of human existence to reach these perfect ideas; the characters of this film are flawed and vulnerable, far from a series of walking clichés. Many are manipulative and selfish. The main character is innocent, but at age five, she's also incredibly naïve. She sees and hears everything going on around her, and while she doesn't understand most of it, you can tell that she's trying to. Her name is Alexandria, and she's played by Catinca Untaru--she was so receptive to the material that I never once believed she was acting. She was living it.
Taking place in 1920s-era Los Angeles, "The Fall" actually opens with the aftermath of a bad fall, and we see a man and a horse pulled from a lake, having tumbled off a railroad bridge. Soon after, we meet little Alexandria, an immigrant worker hospitalized after breaking her arm picking oranges. Always with a box full of things she likes, she travels the hallways and wings of the hospital, mentally gathering the sights and sounds. One day, she wanders onto a lower floor and meets Roy Walker (Lee Pace), a bedridden, emotionally broken Hollywood stuntman; after some initial banter, Roy begins telling Alexandria an epic story of five men seeking revenge.
Over the course of the film, we see that the characters of Roy's story are reflections of the people in or around the hospital: a one-legged actor becomes Luigi (Robin Smith), a master of explosives; an orderly becomes Charles Darwin (Leo Bill), a naturalist who travels with a monkey, searching for an elusive breed of butterfly; the hospital's ice delivery man becomes Otta Benga (Marcus Wesley), a former slave; an orange picker becomes the Indian (Jeetu Verma), who lost his intended so horribly, he vowed to never stare at another woman; Alexandria's dead father (Emil Hostina) initially becomes the Masked Bandit, but he's replaced by Roy when Alexandria says her father shouldn't be in the story. With the help of a tree-dwelling mystic (Julian Bleech), the five bandits journey across exotic lands to find the ruthless Governor Odious (Daniel Caltagirone), drawn from the hospital's Dr. Sinclair.
As the story progresses, we quickly realize that the characters aren't the only things mirrored from reality--the entire plot is a stylized reinterpretation of Roy's recent life. To say more would give too much away, but here are a few things to consider: (1) Roy periodically pauses the story and has Alexandria steal medicine for him; (2) he closes his eyes at one point and tries to guess which of his toes she's holding on to, and we're not sure if she tells him a lie; (3) he gets increasingly unwilling to see the story through to the end. Even when Roy's situation is finally explained, we still wonder what would possess him to do the things he does. For him, telling Alexandria a story is not his way of escaping into fantasy, but of gaining the upper hand. And yet we deeply care for him; we believe that a decent soul lies beneath the anguish, waiting for the right time to emerge.
At the same time, we're taken aback when Alexandria wishes to never get better. She seems to have formed a special bond with Roy, most likely because she doesn't know she's being manipulated. She probably doesn't even know what manipulation is; she does what she's asked without stopping to consider why she's doing it. With her, it's not about being sneaky but about experiencing life, and this is despite the limitations of young age and the confines of hospital walls. Keep in mind that we never see her playing with the other children in the pediatric ward; we suspect that she imagines things at a much more mature level, considering how well developed her communication skills are. She doesn't always have the words, but she somehow finds a way to get her point across. This kind of character development is rarely seen in today's movies; most are bogged down by predictable plotlines and mass-produced special effects. "The Fall" is a refreshing exception to the rule--a visual masterstroke with an engrossing character-driven plot. It's definitely one of the year's best films.
I don't recall seeing this movie which came out in May of this year, advertised, or even seeing it in my theater. Which is a shame, since we went to see City of Ember....another pretty good family film...and we were the only people in the theater for the final matinee.
I think Catnica Untaru should receive an Oscar for her lovely, honest performance. She has a definite future in the movies.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Is my blog f*rqd up. Indeed it is. I am not happy with Blogspot of late. I am trying new layouts and themes, but I screwed up in saving the links and widgets. So yeah, we are all effed up and no place to go. I tried to make sense of some of the article wrap instructions but bonehead that I am, I couldn't make heads nor tails of the wonkspeak. I know that WordPress has a wrap widget, but lousy templates, still I may wander over there and check them out. I saved myself an address, just in case. Seethe. Damn my incompetence. But thanks, Vanderleun for letting me steal the graphic, and good luck on your election. I might just vote for ya, if you make Saracuda your veep.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Download it from here.
Michell Malkin has a motherlode of linkage and, of course always the best.
Long Live the Internet!
Update: Rush Limbaugh is yakking about having the link to the video, only he has cut the first part of the video.. Dude. If you're going to pwn someone for banning their own material, don't frickin' bowdlerize it just because you don't like part of it.
Monday, October 6, 2008
A nice way to say farewell to summertime, courtesy of Jackie Ryan. This is one of the best versions of this song I have heard. Toots Thielemans and the
It has been a very busy two weeks for the hubster. Apparently, he is the only house painter some people want to hire, and they're willing to go to ridiculous lengths to get them to come to their house to paint it....even if it means flying the man out from Baltimore to Kansas City. THAT'S how good he is. Plus, it's just generous of my sister to hire him and fly him out and pay him well. Thank yous all around.
When he wasn't painting, he was going to the Kansas City Renaissance Festival, where in my Number Two Daughter is playing "The Hag", which I described in this post here. Her dad had a good time watching her at work, and really, the actors work quite hard for more than ten hours a day, and they earned their pittance. In this particular RenFaire, there are two hags. You already met one of them. Here's the other:
The indignities he must suffer! Well, the poor lad didn't have a single home cooked meal the whole time he was in KC, and I have had to make it up to him by providing extra delicious home cooked obligations for him as a result. Not that I mind, heh. The youngest, Rachel, not having seen her dad in TWO WHOLE WEEKS took advantage of the rare fine weather and guess where they went? Yep. The Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire in Mount Hope PA. Strangely, there were no hags at this particular faire, but there was a hypmotiss there, and as we were eating our wine braised shortribs, in between the oohing and aaaahing, he managed to talk about their very entertaining day.
UPDATE: Additional picture from the KC Renaissance Festival from Julia....NOT PICTURED! So don't ask!
Please don't toss your cookies....at them. They look like they've had enough cookies, already!
Rachel with a nice face tattoo.
And her new gussied up friend.
So last night, it was Pesto 4 cheese ravioli and Eggplant Parmigiana, and tonight it is Braised Short Ribs on Jasmine rice.
I like slow cooked meals. They are the easiest to make. The ribs were lightly floured, seared in oil, and placed in a large roasting pan with a tight fitting lid. Over the ribs I poured a can of beef stock, and a bottle of Burgundy, some of which I left in the bottle and had with dinner. Mmmmmm. Likker. After they are done cooking in a 350 oven, for three hours, just add a flour slurry to the drippings to make gravy. Simple.
While the husband was telling me about the hypnotist and the fun that was had by all, he kept pausing, looking up at me with a startled look every so often, and would say, "Wow." That's all he could say about the food. Any other cook would demand a fully detailed definition of wow, but the fact that he could barely say it without either laughing or crying was good enough for me! All I can remember about the hypnotist is that he managed to get half of the hypnotees to forget the number six and the other half to forget their names. Dear Gaia, what if your name happened to be SIX?
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Time for a new avatar. This is one I stole from Gerard Vanderleun, and from whom he stole it, I know not. But his writing is original, fresh and a mental libation every day. There isn't a spot on his blog that isn't funny or enlightening or both.
I know you'll miss the flaming oven avatrix, but since we got a new stove, there haven't been any flaming dinners in quite a while. Here is the history of my avatars, and I hope you like the new me.
Lovely, aren't I. That's the great thing about teh intarwebs, you can just about be anything or anyone and still be yourselves.
Next, I went for a more attractive, but less middle-aged look:
Well, I was getting the wrong kinds of attention from all the wrong kinds of Ahmeds. So I changed it, and kept this one for a period of many moons, and the Ahmeds all went away.
After awhile, I changed the name of the blog and kicked Judith up there out, that's her name, and went with Sra. Scherzophrenic and her flaming oven, which pretty much summed up my life. Putting on a good face while the house is burning down. The house is still burning down, but I am better dressed for the occasion.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Wasn't that just awful! Bad, bad, bad. Spankably bad, at that, Oleg!
Well, tonight the hubster is coming home after 10 days in Kansas City painting for my sister. Would you believe that in Kansas City there is a guy named David Atkins, and he is also a house painter. My sister tried to hire him, but like all the other painters out there, he is booked for months in advance. Damn this economy! Will the depression among hypersterical journalists EVER end, I ask rhetorically.
The answer is: They can all go jump in the lake as far as I am concerned. I am making a comfort food dinner tonight, based upon the Pork Roast with Sauerkraut and Apples recipe I wrote about a few posts down. So I won't write it up here. Dessert will be a lovely yellow cake with chocolate ganache. Happiness will continue to rule the roost, in spite of the middle child's efforts. (She has actually been well-behaved since I cut all sustenance off. She comes home for dinner and eats with us, and watching her beg for cigarette money is a pleasure I can hardly deny myself. Poor thing. Keep hoping, girl. You might actually kick the habit!)
Ahhh! Here is our beloved Mr. Rachel pressing home real hope and the kind of change that can only come from a clean and redeemed heart. This is the true free man. Emulate him, young squablings:
I feel better, now, thank you, Alfonzo!