QotD: Partisan Warfare Edition

Because it's my blog and I can have as many quotes of the day as I want to so there!, here's Roomie on Lugar's concession speech:

[H]e's also said the victorious Richard Mourdock has embraced a partisan attitude that makes it difficult to get things done.

That was the point, Senator. See, the more Congress "gets things done," the smaller my paycheck, either directly through taxes or indirectly by inflation.

QotD: Eat The Goose, No More Eggs Edition

Adaptive Curmudgeon on everybody's favorite South American strongman:

It looks to me like Chavez has beaten his country like a rented mule and his time is just about up.  His 13 year socialist reign has been, for want of a better word, “craptacular” for his people.  He trashed a nation in less time than most of us take to wear out a Honda Civic.

Wisht I'd wrote that.

Na-na-na-na, na-na-na-na!

It is my pleasure to report that Dick Lugar, six-term US Senator from the state of Indiana, former mayor of Indianapolis, a sort of anti-Cincinnatus who has not held a real job... nay, has been a hog at the public trough ...since the year before I was born, is going to need to move his stuff out of his office and start handing out resumes on K Street come January.

I have to say that this was an upchuck long in coming; rarely have I filled in a circle with a No. 2 pencil with such savage glee. It's long past time that this particular boil on the arse of the body politic was lanced, so good riddance, Dick; couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.

Overheard on I-89 South:

Went with Marko to catch a matinee of The Avengers yesterday. I'm not, on the whole, a big fan of superhero movies but, like both Iron Man movies and the Batman reboots, this one transcended the genre and was really enjoyable. Plus explosions. Driving back to Castle Frostbite, however...

Me: "You know, I had no problems with Asgardian gods, giant gamma-ray mutant dudes, or flying aircraft carriers, but Scarlett Johansson's teacup Weaver really threw me out of the moment for a second, there. It messed with my willing suspension of disbelief..."

I'll also note that I had difficulty wrapping my head around the idea of a Glock 26 in a tactical drop-thigh rig; the sight was jarring like... I dunno... like a space-saver spare on a race car.

Tab Clearing...

• Stupid should hurt.


• Big discussion on chamber-empty carry over at Robb's. I would like to point out that they are called "handguns", and not "handsguns", for a reason.


• That '70s Show. Just as the presence of iridium in geological substrates indicates the "K-T boundary", or the delineating point between Cretaceous and Tertiary layers, so one day will a layer of velour deposits be used to locate the Carter-Reagan boundary.

QotD: Primary Colors Are Black & Blue Edition

Roberta X on Election '12:

Boy, wouldn't it be great if once -- just once! -- somebody made it through the primaries about whom you could say something more positive than "Well, he's better than a severe beating."

Problem with the paradigm.

So another terror plot was allegedly uncovered, despite the War on Terror being more or less kinda sorta over. The president offered the vague reassurances that apparently come with the job description:

U.S. President Barack Obama was told about the plot in April, and the attempt "underscores the necessity of remaining vigilant against terrorism here and abroad," the White House said.

Well, duh. Make sure you lock your doors, and remember to wear your galoshes, kids, because it's raining. This is what people do regarding bad things that may happen to them: remain vigilant. For example, I "remain vigilant" against muggers: This means that I stay alert and wary. I don't declare a "War on Mugging" and run around shooting every shifty-looking character between Broad Ripple Avenue and 49th Street.

Declaring war on a noun is pointless and unproductive. You get folks in the wrong mindset, you can't eradicate it, and you wind up going through ever more pointless and draconian steps to try. A War on Terror is ultimately destined to be as fruitless as would be a war against any other wrong: A War on Murder, say, or a War on Shoplifting, or a War on Telling Your Neighbor That Dress Looks Great On Her When It Really Makes Her Look Like An Avocado In A Flour Sack.

Seriously, if you want to eradicate a noun, don't call the J. Edgar Hoover Building or the Pentagon; call Merriam-Webster.

Random thought...

Measuring interweb advertising effectiveness in terms of "clicks" is like expecting the people sitting in the bleachers of turn three at Daytona to whip out their cell phones and call DuPont every time Jeff Gordon drives past...
.

Tab Clearing...

• Everybody wants to save Bengal tigers and pandas and nobody wants to save the anopheles mosquito or the shortheaded hagfish.


• JayG has photos from blogmeet.


• The real life of Julia.

Primary sources...

If you are a Hoosier going to vote in tomorrow's primaries, Roomie has a link to a place where you can find out who will be on your ballot.

While everybody is yammering about who gets the White House, the smart voter will be looking at elections that actually matter to them, and that they have a chance of influencing: county commissioners, tax assessors, sheriffs, prosecutors, et cetera.

It's taken years of neglect of the farm teams to bring things to their current sorry pass in DC, and it's very likely, even probable, that this is all an isometric exercise anyway; ain't no way we're pulling out of this tailspin. But I figure there are people voting at me, so I may as well vote right back at 'em and, besides, it's something to do 'til the lights go out.

No nukes.

So the Japanese powered down the last reactor in their country, and the whole grid is humming along without a single volt originated by splitting a uranium atom.

Environmentalists are probably decorating their cupcakes over this; a major economy forswearing that icky nuclear energy and moving forward into a greener future of unicorns farting luminescent rainbows across solar panels and through wind turbines.

Not so fast, Alex Steffen; we're talking about powering one of the Earth's largest industrial economies, not the Vegan Women's Flax Weaving Cooperative:

Prior to the Fukushima disaster, Japan relied on nuclear for approximately 30% of its energy. As reactors have come off-line, the country has increased its imports of fossil fuels.


Japan's government predicts it won't be able to keep up that pace, and the void will result in an energy crunch this summer, possibly leading to rolling blackouts.

All those Priuses and Leafs aren't hand-crafted using organic materials by elves in trees, you know.

Was there ever a recorded hula hoop death?

Fads come and go, especially with kids. I'm pretty sure however, neither pogs, parachute pants, the Material Girl look, nor friendship bracelets contained the inherent danger of leaving the participant a greasy red smear on the sidewalk.

I'm sure that after a few kids crater in, the fad will fizzle and they'll be on to something saner and safer, like driving the wrong way 'round the МКАД half a bottle of Stoli in the bag and blindfolded.

___________s Suck!

Apparently, the thing to do these days, especially if you're a bald shooting instructor with a Brand Name®©™ and a goatee, is to release a YouTube video declaring that _______s Suck!

By using "sucks" in the title, everyone will know that you're hip and edgy. You'll increase attention to your Brand Name®©™ as hundreds of owners of ________ flock to your FaceBook/YouTube/MySpace/LiveJournal/Geocities page to rebut your slanderous accusations against their beloved _______.

The best part? Your nuthuggers will be inspired to buy more tee shirts and ball caps, all the clicking will drive up your ad rates, and the pièce de résistance is that none of those people who own _______ were likely to come to your class, anyway, so you don't risk any damage to your own bottom line!

Brilliant!

Output, Lack Of, Excuse For, 1 each.

I feel like a zom... wait, don't shoot! Tired! I mean I feel tired!

By the time I arrived back at home-away-from-home, it was crowding midnight, and by the time I finally got to bed, it was nearest thing to one AM. And the morning started at 5:00, taking care of the dogs and the baby juvenile chickens.

Compound this with the fact that I am trying to fight off some wretched bug that has the whole right side of my head stopped up like a Reagan Supreme Court nomination and my nose running like the Italian army, and I's miserable, right?

The generic Dayquil knockoff has my mind all... well, whatever would be the word for "awhirl, but in a sluggish and unfocused fashion." Physically, I'm exhausted, but my choices are either lying down and staring at the ceiling, or sitting up and staring at a book, so I chose the latter.

And thus I have done all day. That, and some half-hearted WoW-ing. Other than that? Nada.

I'll tell you this, though: I will sleep the sleep of the just tonight.

Pro Tip:

If you go out to a sports bar with a bunch of friends on Cinco de Mayo (which, as our esteemed president can tell you, is the day after Cinco de Quatro,) and already feel the beginnings of a sore throat coming on, you're going to want to chain-swallow some kind of lemon & honey throat lozenges on the drive home, or the next morning you'll hardly be able to yell "No!" at the puppy when he piddles in an inappropriate spot.

Sunday Morning Stuff...

Drove down to Jillian's in Manchestah last night for the totally awesome Northeast Blogger Dinner Thingie, organized by the inimitable Jay G.

You know how you meet some people in real life after knowing them on the internet and they're not like you expected? Well, Jay's not like that; turns out he's just like he is on the internet, only more so. And life-size. And in 3D. Totally recommend you catch this one on the big screen if you haven't already, because your laptop just doesn't do it justice.

As a special bonus treat, friend Jenn, who I've only seen, like, once since moving to Indy, drove up from the Cradle (and Grave) of Liberty with Travis of TJIC fame, a man now forever doomed to feed straight lines at blogmeets:

"Hi, I'm Travis. TJIC?"

"No, I am TJIC!"

"I am TJIC!"

"We're all TJIC!"

Food was et, drinks were drunked, jokes were told, and pool was more or less played. (I was the Less, Mrs. SCI-FI was the More.) I had a grand time and enjoyed good humor and the kind of conversation you can only get with really smart, really cool people.

It was all too soon that I had to saddle up the Subaru and return to Castle Frostbite before the dachshunds turned into pumpkins. (...and to get to bed at a quasi-decent hour in preparation for the Morning Group Howl, which kicks off at precisely You've Got To Be Kidding Me Thirty.)

Luftverboten...

A list of things normally carried in my pockets and purse that went into checked baggage:

CRKT M16SF pocket knife from my jeans pocket and my keychain with steel-cored paracord monkey fist and Simonich Bitter Root from my coat pocket.

And from the turse, a Victorinox SAK, CRKT Eat N Tool and Get-A-Way Driver, Leatherman Juice CS4 and MUT (plus bit set), and last but not least, the dreaded nail clippers, scourge of the friendly skies.

I truthfully have no idea how half that stuff wound up in the turse; it just accumulated over time, but it all gets used fairly frequently, so there you go. And if I left it at home, I'd surely find myself someplace with a loose screw in a piece of furniture that was driving me nuts, and then what do you do? Ergo: checked bags.

"If you blink, you'll die in the dark."

Bob Vogel absolutely smokes the P-T.com FAST Test:



That is almost exactly one third of the time it took me to do my best run yet at an AFHF class.

Watching these really fast guys, the thing that always impresses me is their incredible economy of motion; there's not a bit of extraneous herky-jerky to their movements.

QotD: Lifeless Man Edition

Caleb, writing on knives:

Aside from my Crackberry, my knife is the most useful thing I carry with me on a daily basis. When I have to fly and can’t carry a knife, I feel like half a man. There’s nothing more annoying that sitting on a plane trying to open one of those little deli-airplane lunches you can buy on United without a knife. What am I supposed to do, tear at this packaging with my teeth like some kind of animal?

When we left the Manchester airport and threw my luggage in the back of the Munchkin Bus, the first thing I did (after bribing Marko's kids giving the kids their trinkets) was pop open my poor man's Pelican and holster up my gat.

Riding out the royal turnpike to the Duchy of Upper Cryogenica, from the rear of the vehicle, Lyra requested assistance in extracting her new plush baby seal (With Real Tail Wagging Action!) from its packaging. I nonchalantly extended a hand towards her and, with that implicit trust children have that adults can solve all their problems, she placed the toy in my hand.

I confidently examined the packaging, reached down to my right jeans pocket, and... uh-oh. I found myself forced to whimper "Uh, Marko, do you have a knife?" Which in itself is an inane question to me; what kind of adult goes about their business without a knife on their person?

I will never forgive the TSA for that moment.

Slow start...

Can't brain yet this morning. Have the dumbs. Possibly because I was up 'til midnight playing this great new game I discovered. I don't know if y'all have heard of it; it's called World of Warcraft.

Thanks a lot, Marko; you're a real pal. If I ever get a heroin habit or something, I'll be sure to share.

WX in NH still bleh. I've run through the entire list of sun gods at Wikipedia, twice even, but still bupkis.

Young pup Henry, sensing my weakness, has been like a "No!"-seeking missile since he was freed from the durance vile of his crate at 0MG30. I am going to go perform the coffee ritual and see if the world looks better when viewed through caffeine-colored glasses.