Whaddya think? Are they going to make Hillary! walk the plank for the Wikileaks scandal?
Boy, Hill’s life didn’t turn out the way she imagined, huh?
(You think this is grotesque? My first idea was nailing her to a cross. That’s when a little voice in my ear said, “what are you, fucking retarded?!”).
November 30, 2010 — 11:50 pm
They’ve only released about one-thousandth of the purloined documents, so I’ll have many opportunities to eat these words, but so far, the most surprising thing about the Wikileaks cable dump is — no surprises. Nothing released so far that I haven’t heard before, at least as a rumor.
And that’s stunning. Because I’m an extreme right wing nutcase who gets all her news from my fellow wingnuts on the internet. Shouldn’t a huge dose of raw diplomatic data have dashed at least a few of my cherished assumptions by now?
The wildest revelations — things like Iran buying long-range missiles off of North Korea, Arab leaders hotter to stop Iran’s nuke program than Israel is, the Red Crescent moving weapons with ambulances — have been chatter around the dextrosphere for ages.
Would Wikileaks lead with its most boring material? Would the lefty journalists helping them sort through it cherrypick facts that support the winger worldview? I guess we’ll find out.
Anyhow, the most shocking thing — by far — that I’ve learned is that three million people had access to these diplomatic cables, including some very junior staffers. Our utter boneheaded incompetence will be the most serious revelation to the world.
p.s. Despite the picture — I’m lazy. I recycle illustrations. Sue me — I wonder how upset Obama is about this, really. None of his own words have leaked. The whole thing reflects more on Hillary. He won’t like the building loseriness of his presidency, but I don’t see him as the kind of guy who takes other people’s mistakes upon himself.
p.p.s. Do we know how far back the cables go? He could get some bonus Blame Bush out of it. He can’t get enough of that shit.
November 29, 2010 — 10:34 pm
See, this is what happens when I try to do everything all nice and proper and churchy.
The Church of England’s Book of Common Prayer, which sets out all the proper church rituals and magic spells, went merrily unchanged for three hundred something years. In 1980, modern busybodies decided to tweak it — i.e. throw out all the wherefores and whosomevers and replaced the lovely old language with words suitable for primary school remedial readers (I believe this was the point they decreed all hymns be sung to the tune of Kumbaya).
Problem is, the Marriage Act of 1949 specifies the exact language to be used. Which is the old version. This is just coming to light, for some reason.
And it’s not even the flipping vows. It’s the flipping banns that are read out in the flipping church weeks before the flipping ceremony.
Minor tweak. From “cause, or just impediment” to “reason in law.”
Considering this affect everyone who got married in the C of E for the last thirty years — including a royal or two — you can imagine the Church is poo-pooing the significance. But what do you want to bet somebody tries to wriggle out on the basis of.
Oh, I liked this bit:
Leading secular divorce lawyer Jeremy Abraham said: “Technically, many marriages are invalid. However, if both parties believe they are married, then they are protected.”
Nice. Puts the strength of our marriage contract in the same league as the existence of Tinkerbell.
November 26, 2010 — 10:06 pm
My Hallowe’en pumpkin looked MUCH eviller after a few weeks of neglect. (Note to self: wear glasses in the house more often).
This is not the pumpkin implicated in the making of pies. That was a nice, fresh one and it turned out very well, thankee. Though the recipe I used was a bit loose. And one tiny pumpkin made enough for, like, THREE pies.
Don’t know if it’s true, but while I was researching recipes, I read that the stuff they sell as pumpkin in cans in the States is actually butternut squash. Believe it or don’t.
Happy Thanksgiving, Americans! Much to be thankful for. Start with the fact you ain’t dead yet and move outwards.
You ain’t, air ye?
p.s. November 25, 2008, I arrived at Gatwick airport strung-out, jet-lagged, with one suitcase and a box with my terrified cat in. Hard to believe I haven’t touched ‘Merican soil for two years, but there you go. I’ve forgotten what decent pizza and Whoppers taste like, but I haven’t started to talk all retarded yet. So there’s that to be thankful for.
November 25, 2010 — 9:18 pm
Can anybody explain the hunger strike to me? Why they ever work, I mean.
You’re in prison, say. A political dissident. Your government would like to be rid of you, but doesn’t dare execute you. So you announce you’re going to starve yourself to death.
I’m thinking that’s a win for everybody.
Oh, well. Bunch of students in Texas are hunger striking in favor of the DREAM act, AKA the petite amnesty. L’amnestita.
Thanksgiving week, and a bunch of kids 18-20-something will go entirely without food. Uh-huh. My experience of that demographic is, they’re an assortment of insatiable appetites on legs.
Anyhow, travel safe. Don’t let Janet Napolitano mess with your bikini area. Hug Grandma for me.
I’ve got a pumpkin pie to make. I have to tell you, the stuff I scraped out of that pumpkin doesn’t smell ANYthing like familiar old pumpkin pie.
I suspect the chickens’ll have it.
November 24, 2010 — 9:24 pm
Yeah. I’m not really going anywhere with this. I got this image stuck in my head and I had to get it out. It’s like an itch. An art itch.
I’m fascinated by the train wreck that is North Korea. I’ve read a bit about it, but I don’t pretend any special insights. This is more of the same old posturing, at a guess. Kim always gets such fabulous prizes when he behaves badly.
I don’t for a minute imagine it’ll be any different this time.
November 23, 2010 — 10:01 pm
I had problems with airport security long before 2001. I wasn’t exactly a frequent flyer, but I did several domestic and several international flights a year for a goodly number of years and found US security staff seemed to go out of their way to be unreasonable and unpleasant. I’m not feeling a lot of sympathy.
Granted, I have carried some odd things onto planes. Like a few jars of pond scum. Or that time I just totally lost track of just how much small change had accumulated in the bottom of my purse, and what that would look like on x-ray (I’ll never forget the look on my boss’ face when they upended that sucker and all those pennies tinkled out).
Oddly, airline staff didn’t bat an eye when I checked a fifty-pound bronze sculpture of a tiger in my luggage. It would have made a hell of a good bomb, too. Go figure.
Anyhow, the TSA has to be very low paid work, as it definitely seems to attract a certain type. And I don’t mean Rhodes scholars.
We’re still chasing the last terrorist scheme. Usually, a failed one. Millions of people feed shoes to an x-ray machine every day because of Richard Reid’s failed bomb nine years ago. Folks, they’ll never do shoes again. Next time, it’ll be a belt buckle or a laptop computer or a rectum. Short of stripping us down, feeling us up and giving us hospital johnnies to wear on the flight, we aren’t going to cover every possible hidey hole.
Would this have worked even for the plots we know about? Both the shoe bomber and the panty bomber used the same stuff — a powder that is mixed with a liquid to make a plastic explosive. That ain’t going to show up on these clever new x-ray machines. Carefully sewn into a garment, would it be obvious even to a good, hard grope?
The TSA only screens US-to-US flights. Chances are, threats from here on out will be coming from outside the US. Very likely going through Heathrow (or Gatwick). I’ve flown out of both many times. They don’t just wave you through, but they seem to have an eye-roll view of American security procedures. No junk-groping for the Brits, ta.
We do too profile, sometimes. I got pulled out of line just as I was getting on a plane (Boston to London) and gently questioned. It was one of those Christmases with the heightened alerts. I don’t know who the questioner was, but he was brief, pleasant and professional. I’m convinced he picked on me because I was wearing dark aviator sunglasses and looking harried. Okay, maybe middle-aged American women aren’t the most insightful demographic to give second glances too, but paying extra attention to people who look stressed out…is a start.
Have you seen their recruits? There were eight quiet years between the failed shoe bomber and the failed panty bomber. And those two guys should’ve rung all kinds of alarm bells. So, yeah, I’m sure al Qaeda would love to enlist a few Midwestern grannies to fly under our security radar, but they’re having a hard time getting desperate losers from the third-world shit-holes to sign on at the moment.
They’re reduced to recruiting inkjet printers, mailing them from suspicious addresses to suspicious addresses, and bragging that it only cost $4,200 to assemble their latest FAIL.
I’m thinking a leeeetle teeny tiny bit of profiling should be plenty.
November 22, 2010 — 8:11 pm
I woke up with Uncle B’s cold this morning, so it’s as good a time as any to resort to an Important Chicken Update.
They’re fine. They even handled Bonfire Night and the attendant fireworks, no problemo.
It’s still just Lucia laying, though. Ten weeks, forty-eight eggs — pretty good going for a bantam. We call them luciafruit. I have one hard boiled most mornings.
I feel a little bad about it. Not least because I suspect it hurts squeezing one out. It usually takes her several trips to the nest box. And if you stand outside, you can hear her make a faint, high-pitched “eeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE” sound.
I rose from my sickbed, tiptoed out and took this picture for you. Note the difference. They’re exactly the same age, but Lucia’s comb and wattles are big and floppy (and, you can’t see, bright red). She also had a complete change of personality, from shy to restless and friendly and extroverted.
I don’t know what the hell is wrong with Mapp. I went out yesterday, and Lucia was sitting on the nest, all serious and business-y, and Mapp was sitting on Lucia, like, “HEY THIS IS FUN BUT NEXT TIME I GET TO PLAY BUS DRIVER.”
Good weekend, everyone!
November 19, 2010 — 7:24 pm
Most people probably know this movie from the MST3K version. It was the first episode hosted by Mike Nelson, and featured a cameo at the end featuring Mary Jo Pehl as The Head (or “Jan in the Pan” as they called her).
But me, I first saw this movie on the afternoon Creature Feature when I was a kid and it scared the hell out of me. I totally empathized with Jan in the Pan. What did all that stuff sound like splooshing around in the tubes? What if her nose itched?
The Ick Factor was enhanced by a very convincing imitation severed-head-in-a-pan at the state fair the next year, done using a variation of the Pepper’s ghost illusion.
Anyhow, at first I thought it was high-larious that Nancy wouldn’t step down and the remaining Dem caucus was all, like, “oh no — we weren’t liberal enough.” But my LULs are giving way to a pervading uneasiness. They either psychotically missed the world’s most obvious message, or they heard us loud and clear and just don’t give a shit. Not good, either way.
In a two-party system, it’s dangerously bad mojo if either party gets too crazy.
November 18, 2010 — 7:50 pm
God, politics is weird these days. I never thought I’d be so angry at a Republican win, nor so delighted at a Democrat win. I speak, of course, of Murkowski and Pelosi.
Oh, well. Two ugly, selfish old broads. The illustrator in me should be delighted. (Speaking of dessicated old illustrations, that’s my Zombie-Santa-in-progress for this year. Also, don’t touch my junk, imagery shamelessly stolen from Iowahawk).
Oh, and I’ve been test-driving Rockmelt, a new browser that integrates Twitter and Facebook. If I know my clientele, I’d guess you guys are mostly dyed-in-the-wool Twitter/FB resisters, but it does have a few interesting features.
It’s built around Chrome, so it’s VERY nimble and quick. I’ve got FireFox going at the same time, and the difference is striking. Whatever you happened to be reading, you can click a button to Tweet it or put it into your status on FB. And it’s got a neat little translation program — land on a page in another language (happens to me a lot) and it’ll offer to translate it for you. Does a pretty good job, too.
Invitation only. You can probably wangle an invite out of them directly (it’s nowt more than a marketing gimmick, after all). If not, I have a couple to share. Drop me a line.
November 17, 2010 — 10:32 pm