From the ride in today:

Burger: I see an alien!

Lovely Wife: An alien?

Burger: Yeah! An alien! It's right there.

Me: They prefer 'undocumented worker'.

Burger: Right there!

Lovely Wife: [Pointing to a vehicle a bit ahead] I think he means that 'ambulance'.

Me: [Pointing to a road crew] He's right either way.

I won't say we made it through yet since it's not quite over and I don't want to tempt fate. I'll just say that the expected power loss from the ice storm hasn't happened yet. The freezing rain from Friday and Saturday is mostly gone now. It left many thousands of Georgians without power (for various lengths of time - some are still down), led to many automobile accidents and caused the closure of major highways.

But it was breathtakingly beautiful too. It encased all of the trees in a sheath of crystalline majesty. Last evening the low lights of our front porch lit these up magnificently. Unfortunately our nighttime picture taking capabilities are almost non-existent and none of the photos came out well. This morning the view was still beautiful as the crystal encrusted trees groaned under their icy burden.

(Click here if you can't see the thumbnail.)

All of the ice is melting now and it sounds like a battleground outside. Chunks of ice fall like the rat-a-tat of a machine gun. The occasional large ice block or failing tree limb is like the crack of a mortar. Our entire yard is covered with broken shards of glass as if the remnants of the world's largest crystal chandelier lay shattered and abandoned there.

(Click here if you can't see the thumbnail.)

At least with this mess we don't have to worry about the cleaning up.

Lovely Wife and I are like anti-nerd and nerd. She's a 16 and I'm a 74. On the positive side our kids should be at least passably good in sports while still being able to figure out mathematical proofs.

Blogdaughter Tiffani's got the skinny.

UPDATE: Stealth points awarded!

Timmer: 2 points for answering the original question
Elyse: 2 points for finding an error in the problem and answering correctly using that info
Victor: 1 point because he's single-handedly kept the stealth points program alive

Here's one for your enjoyment:

Bob the Sailor (a cousin of Bob the Builder, but without the little trademark thingy after his name) needed some rope. He went to Crafty McRippoff, the only boat supply shop in town.

"Hey, Crafty! I need me some rope. Argh!" he said as he entered the shop.

I love cats. They taste just like chicken.

(Click for big size.)

Grand Prize: 5 points
Our special today is pan seared tabby with cheerio confit. Would you like to start with an appetizer?
Jeff

First runner up: 3 points (selected by the world's smallest concience)
[Daffy Duck Voice] It's mine, mine all mine.
Tiffani

Second runner up: 2 points (selected by Ted Kennedy's blown capillaries)
Interestingly, the proposal for remaking the movie _Seven_ with kittens went through several rounds of review before being rejected.
Trey

Third runner up: 1 point (selected by the Romulan Ambassador on Kyrtus 5)
Every year, thousands of kittens such as this one succumb to the horrors of Kitty Kibbles & Krack. Just say "Meow" to drugs.
8ZERO8

Here's a nifty little meme/game/whatever I found at Dragons, Butterflies and Lady Bugs.

1. Pick 13 movies that you enjoy.
2. Pick a line of dialog that you like.
3. As people guess the film, strike out that entry.
4. NO cheating!!! That means NO: Google, IMDb, etc.!

To add a little spice I'm going to give a point to each first correct answer. Some of these are pretty difficult. Any left after 24 hours will go to 2 points each.

Adendum to #4, no searching my archives either.

Quotey bits are in the extended entry:

Frightening news:

There's trouble brewing, guys

You have to hope that this study is flawed, but the evidence seems irrefutable. Several months ago, scientists at Europe's annual human reproduction conference suggested that the results of a recent analysis revealed the presence of female hormones in beer, and suggested that men should take a look at their beer consumption. The theory is that drinking beer makes men turn into women.

To test the theory, 100 men were fed six pints of beer within a one-hour period. It was then observed that 100 percent of the men gained weight, talked excessively without making sense, became overly emotional, couldn't drive, failed to think rationally, argued over nothing, had to sit down while urinating, couldn't perform sexually, and refused to apologize when wrong.

No further testing is planned.

* This title was scientifically designed by a Washington think tank to be irresistable to Harvey.

(Hat tip to Tiffani)

...or does anybody else find it odd that Senator Byrd is stressing that Dr.Rice's qualifications for Secretary of State should be judged primarily by her actions as National Security Advisor? I just think it is a bit hypocritical that the only KKK alumni in the Senate is calling for somebody to be judged strictly by their history instead of their current qualifications.

I'm not calling Byrd a klansman. He was a prominent one over fifty years ago, sure. He's worked against equal opportunity, women's rights and desegregation, sure. But, he said he was sorry that he'd said and done all of those hurtful and evil things while he was running his branch of the KKK and if that's good enough for his apologists then it's good enough for me.

Lovely Wife got one of those anti-Bush spam emails the other day. Part of it explained how Bush is a Nazi because his grandfather had business dealings with a bank that raised money for the Nazi party. I'd be a hypocrite myself if I said that accusing somebody of being a Nazi because of the actions of his grandfather was a load of shit but I still thought of Byrd as a bigoted racist simply because he was instrumental in the reappearance of the Klan in his more mobile years.

Incidentally, Byrd has said he was sorry for his Klan activities but I've been unable to find any mention of him ever actually saying that those actions were wrong. Does anybody have knowledge of him ever saying so?

Anybody?

Bueller?

The contest will be open until some time on Friday. Best caption gets 5 points with another handful thrown around to the rest of the best.

(Click for big size.)

(Make your own with the Error Message Generator)

I've been invited to a 'webinar'. This is the term being used because 'web seminar' is far too understandable. Jargon is of ultimate importance in business so a clear and concise phrase like 'web seminar' cannot be permitted to survive. No, a grotesque substitute must be crafted. Something that executives and PR people can say with pride alongside such trite and overused staples as 'paradigm', 'leverage', and 'out of the box'. Proper use of these craptacular phrases causes an executive to achieve a mental woody so great they can actually mentally ejaculate.

"Today's webinar will explore the paradigm shift resulting from our leveraging of out of the box thinking."

SPLURT!!! <--- mental ejaculate

Can I just say no? Can I refuse to use the word 'webinar'? Why can't I just use 'web seminar'?

If I do refuse to use this bullshit word will my coworkers look at me funny? Will they joke about my archaic word choice during project planning sessions? If I send out invitations to my own 'web seminar' will there be no attendees because they don't understand what such a thing is?

Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn. I refuse to use 'webinar'. I am officially adding it to my list of prohibited phrases. I will not add it to my spell checker dictionary so every time I see it it will have the red underlined squiggly of rejection. Call me antiquated, call me conservative, call me Al. Just don't call me a sycophant.

I must go now. I have to engineer visionary metrics in order to deliver seamless convergence with my incentivized best-of-breed partnerships.

This is pretty neat: Private, home school students added to Perdue's virtual school bill.

Home schoolers and private school students would be allowed to take online public school courses under changes a Senate committee made Monday to a bill backed by Gov. Sonny Perdue.

The Senate Education committee approved a plan to create the Georgia Virtual School - giving students in small school systems computer access to advanced placement classes and other courses that may not be available to them locally.

Students not enrolled in public schools would be allowed to take up to 6 courses. I don't like the limit there but this is better than the original proposal that was limited to enrolled students only. Of course not everybody is happy with providing educational opportunities outside of the classroom.

The amendment was opposed by Democrats on the Republican-controlled committee and by representatives of teacher's groups, who said the change would effectively take money away from school systems.

"This is one more step in weakening public schools," said Sen. Vincent Fort, D-Atlanta, a committee member who voted against the amendment. "Public school students should not have to wait in line."

In the words of the great Arlo Guthrie, "Have a nice steaming cup of shut the fuck up". Teachers, teachers' unions and the people who depend on those unions for their kickbacks payola bribe money support will always be against anything that takes away their money. In this case they are working not only against homeschoolers but also against progress. The web is a fantastic tool and the more it is developed for scholastic opportunity the less we will need schools and teachers. You can't fault somebody for working in their own self interests but you surely can call them fucknuts when that puts them directly at odds with our kids.

My interview is up at Jennifer's History & Stuff. Go and find out all about my cow porn and my skill with foreign languages.

We have two cat doors inside our house. One is on the laundry room door. That's so the cats can get in there to do their 'business' without the smell of cat box taking over the house. The other is between the living area and the sleeping area of the house. That door gets closed so we can keep the dogs (and children) in one half of the house or the other, also to save on heating/cooling during sleepy time. The cat door is a necessary there again so the cats can get to their toilet.

Henk and Apple (the grown-up cats) take the doors in a stately fashion, very dignified, very careful. Stitch (the hell spawn kitten) takes them like a panzer division crossing the French border. She'll start by the laundry room and tear ass across the kitchen floor. She'll slowly build up speed as she gains minute amounts of friction on the tiles, much like a cartoon character or dragster. There's a 50/50 chance that she'll make the turn into the dining room otherwise there'll be a loud "thwunk" as she banks off of the oven cabinet. Once she hits carpet the claws come out and she accelerates as if she just turned on the nitrous. The sound of ripping fibers increases until they conclude with a door jarring "THA-WANG" as she dives through the cat door and sends it smacking into the door on its hinges.

The cat doors are pretty good ones and have little switches so they can be set to open both ways, either way alone, or lock closed.

All I can think of every time I hear her assault the door is this.

So far I have resisted my natural urges but I'm unsure how long I can hold out.

I just took the 20 Questions to a Better Personality quiz (found at LeeAnn's place).

Wackiness: 50/100
Rationality: 24/100
Constructiveness: 58/100
Leadership: 72/100

You are a SECL--Sober Emotional Constructive Leader. This makes you a Politician.

Burger: I'm not a baby any more.

Me: No? What are you now?

Burger: I'm a big guy!

And so he is. Happy 3rd birthday, Burger!

(Paul's link)

Many more pictures (including Trey being attacked by a horde of midgets) at Flaptrap.

A reader over at Ilyka's place had a question in the comments. Specifically, is it possible to survive this type of set-up question with scrotum and relationship intact. The happy answer is yes, though it is often not easy.

The absolute first response to this question is to run screaming from the room. Barring that (for example, if the door is barred) you may be able to defuse the situation by ignoring the question with a compliment.

Her: Honey, does this dress make me look fat?

Him: Baby, you look gorgeous.

Note the compliment and the complete avoidance of the question.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Do not, under any circumstances, add the words "to me" at the end of the compliment.

If the avoidance/compliment doesn't work you can try a distraction technique.

Her: I know I look beautiful to you [notice she used the "to you" even though he specifically avoided that trap. This is known as a trap within a trap or more commonly "The Bundy Offense".], but I really want your opinion. Does this dress make me look fat?

Him: What that dress really needs is a new set of diamond earrings. Do we have time to stop at the jewelers?

Note again the critical and skillful avoidance of the actual question. Dodge and weave, dodge and weave.

If both of these techniques fail there is still one method left to preserve your manhood and relationship.

Her: Will you knock it off and just answer the question? Do I look fat in this dress or not?

Him: [clutches chest] ARGGGGGHHH!!!

The fake heart attack will only work two or three times before she catches on so use it sparingly.

It's food time! The Carnival of the Recipes is up Caltechgirl's World. Lovely Wife's pea soup is in this one.

Mmmmmm... pea soup...

I'm doubly thankful for the Carnival today. Looking at some of those yummy-food recipes has finally gotten my mind off of that pancake sandwich I had for breakfast.

No, I'm not suggesting we serve up reindeer fillets. Rudy's still my number one cervidae. The red-nosed freak I'm speaking of is none other than Ronald McDonald.

What in the name of all that is holy were the McDonald's food developers thinking of with this culinary travesty?

Sausage? Yeah, that's a good start. It's a breakfast staple. A thin patty of greasy sausage with an assortment of impregnated unchewable bits is a fine beginning for a breakfast sandwich. Scrambled egg patty? Right on! If it's got eggs in it, it's breakfast. You can add eggs to any normal food and instantly transform it to a proper morning repast. Steak? That's dinner. Steak and eggs? Breakfast! Eggs are just dandy for the breakfast sandwich.

But then they went for a 'unique' change. Something different. Something never tried before. Something that would complement the sausage and eggs in a way never before attempted.

Pancakes.

Yes, pancakes. Pancakes instead of a bagel (good), biscuit (good) or muffin (good). Pancakes with a layer of maple syrup inside them. Cause, you know, nothing goes with greasy sausage and dry eggs quite like the taste of sugary maple syrup.

Oh, the humanity.

You might have guessed by now that I had a sausage and egg sandwich on pancake for breakfast. You'd be correct if you did. Oh, I didn't get it at the clown house - mine was purchased at the breakfast hot plate at QT (gas station / convenience store). I still blame Ronald though because he started it.

Incidentally, when one section of the breakfast hot plate is completely full it is not because they just finished making those particular sandwiches and they are fresh. No, it is because every other customer has already had their own vomit inducing experience with that particular sandwich type and is now avoiding it like the plague.

The aftertaste is exceptional and has proven to be resistant to coffee, water and soda. My mouth tastes like maple grease.

I envy the fellow who was ahead of me in line at QT. His breakfast selection was:

1. A selection of snack-sized packages of pretzels and chips.
2. A large coffee. (Starbucks translator: "venti")
3. A gallon of green generic Kool-Aid style beverage.
4. A pack of cigarettes.
5. A Corona big boy.

Now THAT is a breakfast of champions.

In a hostage situation the victims will tend to become appreciative of their captor. He is God-like in his ability to take life away and the hostage is grateful that their life is being spared. The hostage comes to see it, emotionally, as the captor granting them life and is appreciative of this gift. I see this very same mentality in our society today. America has Stockholm Syndrome with our government playing the part of the captor.

It boils down to one statement. This is the truth: The Government Does Not Grant You Rights

How often do you hear or read phrases about rights granted by the Constitution or Bill of Rights? How many times have you heard somebody say that this or that country should grant their citizens certain rights like our government grants us? These sentiments are exactly wrong and directly contrary to the documents and ideals that founded our country. Just as the hostage taker is not granting life by not taking it, neither is our government granting us the rights that it does not remove.

Excerpt from the Declaration of Independence:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. --That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,

In simple language this is saying that you are born with the right to do anything and that the purpose of government is to protect your rights. This is a powerful and often forgotten sentiment. Government is not here to grant you rights. You already have them. Government is here to stop other people from taking away your rights.

The core concepts to remember are that you begin with every right, the Constitution protects certain of your rights, and laws restrict or remove your rights. This is a heady concept, and frightening as well for many people. Taken literally this means that a critical component of the job of every Congressman and Senator is to pare away your rights.

This mistaken groupthink is pervasive. In the Presidential debates one of Bush's criticisms of Kerry was the relatively low number of laws he has authored during his tenure as Senator. Kerry disputed this, claiming to have been instrumental in a very large number of bills. I was horrified by this exchange. Both men were making it clear that they considered the removal of my rights to be not only a just goal but the lack of such efforts to be a considerable failing. They were both saying that a good Senator is one who makes a lot of laws.

Wrong. Very, very wrong. A good Senator or Congressman should be a terrible legislator. A good Senator should be primarily concerned with protecting the Constitution, not increasing the bulk of the Code of Law. Anything else is a direct contradiction of their oath of office.

Oath of Office, Congress:

I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter: So help me God.

Note that there is absolutely nothing in the oath regarding the crafting of laws. The entire focus of the oath that every Senator and Congressman takes is that they will protect the Constitution.

The same thing goes for the President.

Oath of Office, President:

I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.

The documents are so clear. The sentiments are impossible to misunderstand. Even so, later today George Bush will repeat that oath of office. A short time later in a speech he will completely ignore it as he talks about forming a cooperative coalition of legislators to craft new laws and further snip away at the Constitution he has just sworn to protect.

It is frightening that this Stockholm Syndrome is so widespread that even the President of the United States is a victim of it. It is absolutely terrifying that it is so pervasive that this perfidy is not only accepted but actually lauded by the populace at large.

They're doing electrical work in the building and we were without heat until about 20 minutes ago. It's about 25 degrees outside. It's about 55 degrees inside.

I'm the only person who wasn't bitching about it. You might assume that this is because I'm from Little Antarctica* but you'd be wrong. It's because my Lovely Wife bought me one of those massage/heat chair pads for our anniversary and I've been toasty warm and laughing on the inside* all day long.

* Also known as Buffalo.
** Okay, occasionally I laughed out loud too. There are some pretty efficient bitchers here with some fairly eloquent vocabulary.

Defeating Nazi Germany

Do: Invade Germany.

Don't bother: Turning off Hitler's speech with a very forceful twist of the radio's knob.

Ending segregated busing

Do: Sit in the front of the bus.

Don't bother: Sending a 'strongly worded letter' to the CEO of the bus company.

Getting your own holiday

Do: Dedicate your life to a worthy goal, motivate and move your people toward it, live as an example of it, die in the pursuit of it.

Don't bother: Bitching at the TV set.

Send a man to the moon

Do: Put a guy in a big ass rocket and launch it.

Don't bother: Blasting loud music at the neighborhood Luddite.

Change the world for the better

Do: Put on your Birkenstocks and your best hemp shirt, get out of your house and actually fucking do something constructive that works toward the goals you profess to have.

Don't bother: Protesting against a welcome back party.

Bitching and whining will never change a thing. Jesse Jackson will never make the world a better place because he doesn't actually DO. Bill Gates made the world a better place because he does things in the real physical world to support and promote his ideals.

These protesters are the worst sort of hypocrite. They want only to scream their disillusionment in the hopes that somebody else will do something about their problems.

(Tip credit to DCeit)

There's a new short story up at Protomonkey. This one is a corroboration between Paul and myself.

Go. Read. Enjoy!

The coolest thing about caption contests is that even when you have nothing to blog about you have something to blog about.

(Click here if you are Paul)

Grand Prize: 5 points
Objects in mirror are closer than they appear
Frick

First runner up: 3 points (selected by President Bush, confirmed by the Senate)
Forgetting that the reindeer were still attached, Santa threw it in reverse and floored it.
Machele

Second runner up: 2 points (selected by 17 rats while Victor was out)
The local deer craze known as 'Overpass Diving' came to an abrupt end Thursday night when, following a near-perfect 3 1/4 rotation dive, tragedy struck.
Ryan

Third runner up: 1 point (selected by a duckbilled platypus)
How come I don't see any picture?
Paul

Special bonus section

I came up with a couple myself:

"Bob thanked his lucky stars that he'd had the foresight to get his truck sighted in." (This will only amuse hunters.)

"Ram tough? Sure. Deer tough? Not quite."

Egads this weekend went fast. It must me Monday though since I'm at work and there are lots of grumpy people all around.

What to do to dispel that fine case of the Mondays? Get a cup of coffee and look over the Bestofme Symphony. It beats the hell out of working and today's a holiday so you don't even have to feel guilty about it.

Ask VW. She's this week's host for the Carnival of the Recipes.

And you can add the briquettes. I'll be interviewed by Jen, Queen of History and Stuff, and the questions get supplied by y'all. And the one or two readers she has that don't read this blog, I guess. And maybe a few folks who just follow the interviews. And the occasional flightless bird.

Anyway, send your questions to her by noon central next Thursday (1/20/05). She'll put them all together and give them to me in anonymous fashion. Not that she'll be anonymous. I mean, when somebody comes up and says "Yo! Here's the interview questions" and hands you the interview questions that's not really anonymous at all. I mean she collects them and gives them to me without telling who asked what question. So ask away in the knowledge that you will be free from my diabolic retribution.

I will of course naturally assume that boob related questions come from Harvey.

Contest will be open to sometime next week. Don't wait to the last day because nobody but me knows when it'll be. And to tell you the truth I don't know either. Woo hoo!!

As usual, 5 points to the winner and a handful to the also-rans.

Victor asked for Lovely Wife's split pea soup recipe. She gave it in the comments but I'm putting it up here where everybody will notice it. It's my good deed for the day - spreading goodwill and yummy food, not to mention AssWar ammunition.

Just to warn y'all, this isn't quite so much a recipe as it is a force of nature. Lovely Wife cooks her soups the old fashioned way, by love and intuition.

I know that you are efficiency minded but sometimes corners should not be cut and procedures should not be rushed. This could be for any number of reasons including quality, performance or, in this particular case, etiquette.

What I am specifically referring to is your behavior in the men's room this morning. You may recall that when you entered said bathroom I was already occupying the first urinal. You quickly analyzed the situation and correctly (according to the tenets of the Big Book of Men's Room Etiquette) proceeded to the last urinal. My concern is with your actions while traveling to your post.

It was particularly unnerving to be in the semi-compromised position mandated when urinating to hear your zipper open when you were directly behind me. Furthermore your motions and mannerisms, as well as your speed off the blocks, showed that you had already taken the tool in hand before arriving at your destination.

To reiterate, these two actions (unzipping behind another man and walking through the bathroom with your cock in hand) are both egregious violations of the BBMRE. I trust that merely bringing these errors to your attention will suffice to correct these deficiencies but I must warn you that I am prepared to retaliate if this behavior continues. I have homemade pea soup in storage and I am not afraid to use it.

Regards,
Jim Peacock

...before the Islamic terrorists start killing relief workers in Indonesia?

Relief and aid workers are a favorite target of Muslim extremists and there are shitloads of Muslim extremists in Indonesia. Right now the whole country is a target rich environment for these murderers. Chaos, unknown people everywhere, lots and lots of westerners with limited security.

In fact the Indonesian government is now setting up American forces for murder by these monsters. In an effort to remain in country to continue providing assistance our Marines will now be unarmed.

In a major compromise, the Marines agreed not to carry guns while on Indonesian soil and for the vast majority of troops to return to ships stationed off the coast after each day's operations.

I do not see good things coming out of this compromise.

(Hat tip to e-claire)

We had Lovely Wife's homemade pea soup for dinner last night. Mmmmmmmm. Most of you have probably never had homemade pea soup; it's a vanishing art here in the States. Lovely Wife makes her soups old school style. She starts with a big pork butt bone, does some magic thing to get the flavor out of it, strips the meat, slow cooks the dried split peas, hand mashes the stuff and oh my Lord is it good stuff.

But it's more than just a fantastic dinner. You see peas, like their cousin beans, are a musical fruit. Pea soup for dinner means more than just a delightful repast. For a person like me it means ammo.

My strike runs are already planned. There'll be some cubical bombs dropped today.

Oh, yeah!

Carnival of the Vanities - Mucho reading material. Check out the blog too.

[This area reserved for space aliens.]

Google photo montage - Dirty words work too! And check out the blog - very funny.

100th review celebration giveaway - From one of my newest constant reads. If you sign up to win the prize without reading some of the reviews (which are hillarious) then you are a skeezer.

Happy Birthday Girl Child - Happy Daddy has a very sweet post remembering the event.

[The scene: The boys are in the tub. Lovely Wife and I are having a conversation while they are relatively quiet. ]

Me: [To Lovely Wife] So I'm going to be involved in setting up KPIs for the company as well as metrics for Development.

Bear: [Interrupts] What's that?

Lovely Wife: What? Metrics?

Bear: No, kaypeeayes.

Me: It's an acronym. KPI stands for "key process indicator".

Lovely Wife: Do you know what that means?

Bear: No.

Lovely Wife: Can you figure it out?

Bear: Well, an indicator is like a light or something so it's probably a light to help you find your keys.

Lovely Wife: You're pretty good at figuring stuff out bear but...

Bear: [Interrupts] I know. I'm brilliant.

Lovely Wife: You're brilliant?

Bear: Yeah. I'm even smarter than you.

Random Penseur has another installment of his Behind the Curtain series where he shines the spotlight on history's supporting players. Claudius Smith was a swashbuckling cowboy, jailbreaker, and "a bold, handsome man, around whom secretly clustered all those unprincipled and daring men". He was also a murderer and villain, an American who terrorized New York and New Jersey in support of the Crown of England.

Go read. It's a good 'un.

There's some controversy about perennial favorite band Nickelback. Mikey Smith noticed a disturbing similarity between their older hit How You Remind Me and a newer hit Someday. He synched the songs up to play together and found that they do indeed share a baseline. That really pissed him off.

Nickelback, you lazy, talentless bunch of wankers. What, did you think nobody would notice that you're recycling your hideous dirge and selling it all over again to your deluded fan base? You bastards, you're taking advantage of those tone deaf MTV brainwashed twats who are too thick to notice you're releasing songs that are EXACTLY THE SAME as ones you recorded earlier. And here's the proof, people. Listen to their first godawful hit, played through the left speaker. At the same time, an equally shite single (released two years later) will be played through the right speaker. Can you spot the difference?

He maintains that this is effectively theft by deception. While I agree with some of his points ("deluded fan base" and "tone deaf MTV brainwashed twats" to be precise) my overall impression of his argument is "So what?".

In order to be popular a group must produce an identifiable sound. Think of any band that has had more than a single hit and you should have no trouble finding similarities in their songs. In this particular case they are recycling a base line. In three chord rock. How do you not recycle a baseline when you've only got a handful of them to work with?

They aren't talentless wankers, they are wankers of limited talent. Successful wankers of limited talent. Rich successful wankers of limited talent. Rich successful wankers of limited talent that get a whole lot more pussy than Mikey Smith.

And they deserve it. They made a sound that people like. They're smart enough to keep making the sound that people like. Eventually people will get bored with that sound and they will either come up with a new sound that people like or they will descend into obscurity like almost every other band in the history of music to resurface only as guests on Hollywood Squares or the occasional Trivial Pursuit question.

That's me. Bloody sick and bloody tired. Sick enough that I'm going home shortly. Tired enough that my eyes keep going unfocused. This is despite enough drugs to keep Snoop Dog flying and about 24 hours of sleep in the past 2 days. Bleh.

Damned flu!

Anyway, here's a thought for the day:

Some people are like Slinkies . . . not really good for anything, but you still can't help but smile when you see one tumble down the stairs.

The quality of Nigerian scams has degraded so much over the past couple of years. Just look at this piece of garbage I got today:

Hello,

My greetings.

I got your email address from a casual enquiry wherein I sought for trustworthy potential partners with whom to go into business with in the investment of some contact funds ( $ 8,500,000.00 U.S ) currently trapped. It is my hope that you will be of assistance in helping me free the trapped funds, transfer it, and put it to investment purpose. 10% of the funds will accrue to you for your assistance.

The source of the funds are as follows: During the last military regime in my country,government officials awarded contracts that were grossly over-invoiced to Contractors. The present civilian government set up the Contract Review Panel, and mandated it to use the instruments of payments made available to it by the decree setting up the panel, to review those contracts and if necessary pay those who are being owed outstanding amounts.I have identified the above mentioned sum which have been lying unclaimed for years and would like to transfer and invest it.My position as a current serving Civil servant forbids me from operating foreign Bank accounts, this is why I need your assistance.

Here is where you come in : I need you to furnish me with the following information :
1. YOUR FULL NAMES
2. BUSINESS NAMES
3. ADDRESS
4. TELEPHONE AND FAX NUMBERS

With these information, I will forward an application for payment in your busines's favour and ensure that it is approved. Upon the transfer of the funds, I will meet with you in your country so that we can go into investment after sharing in the agreed percentages ( 10% for you ).

Please do reply,

Olawale

I mean - that is truly pathetic. It breaks my heart to see the fine tradition of Nigerian scamming headed straight into the shit heap. Being me, I could not let this go without expressing myself. My reply is in the extended entry.

Oh, the traffic wasn't any worse than usual so it was a relatively fast 45 minutes to drive in. Getting up to my office was the hard part.

I hit the button for the elevator and after a minute or so the right side elevator car (there are two elevators) arrived. The doors opened and I was greeted by darkness. The lights were out in the car and the little back-up light was on casting a feeble glow about. I figured what the heck and got on. I pushed the button for the second floor. Nothing happened.

I pushed the button numerous times but nothing continued to happen. After a little bit I realized I was acting like a lab rat clicking the lever even when it was obvious no food pellets were arriving. I exited the non-functioning elevator and pushed the call elevator button again. It didn't light up. Since there was an elevator already arrived on the floor it wasn't calling the other elevator.

This presented a problem. You may recall from previous posts that the stairwell doors are locked on the first floor so people are forced to go by the security desk to get to the upper floors. The security desk was currently unoccupied.

No elevator. Can't use the stairs. Nobody to report the problem to.

I was going to have to wait until somebody came down to the first floor on the elevator.

I waited several minutes and suddenly the defunct elevator closed its doors and headed upwards, no doubt to confound and irritate somebody on another floor by sitting idle and dark while they did their own lab rat routine. I pressed the call elevator button again and was rewarded with its cheery familiar glow.

The left elevator arrived momentarily and I was able to proceed to my offices without further mishap.

If anybody asks why I was late I'll just tell them I had trouble getting up this morning.

I had the weirdest thing happen to me yesterday. While preparing the plates for dinner I started getting a nauseous feeling and a pain in my gut. No, it was not a biological commentary on Lovely Wife's cooking - the food was excellent as always.

I ignored it and we sat down and began to eat. The pain got worse. Quickly. Within a minute or two it was so bad I couldn't sit up straight and I was breaking out in a cold sweat. It felt like somebody had smashed me in the belly with a mattock.

I excused myself and laid down on the couch. Within a few minutes it had passed. I went back to the table where Lovely Wife, after making sure I was indeed okay, told me about this weird thing that had happened to her earlier in the day. She had an episode with nausea and intense gut pain that hit her and left within a couple of minutes.

What the hell was this? I've heard of the 24 hour flu. Is there some freaky 5 minute flu going around?

My New Years resolutions are a bit different from most people's. Like I explained last year I don't have a lot of interest in them. If something needs changing I change it when I recognize the problem. Plus, my inner reflection cycle tends to hit at around my birthday and not the end of the year (yet more proof of my inherent egocentricity).

Last year I made resolutions that were guaranteed winners. If I kept them that meant I had succeeded in keeping a resolution. If I broke them it meant I was actually better off personally. I like to play with a fixed deck don't ya know.

This year I'm stacking the deck in a different manner and my resolutions are absolutely genuine. They're just easier to reach than most others.

Baby steps. Baby steps.

In 2005 I resolve to:

1. Dance like a whirling dervish on crack when Osama gets his multiple 5.56 mm plumbum injections.


2. Laugh from deep in my belly when Michael Moore's next propaganda film crashes and dies at the box office.


3. Repeat #1 but with an Irish jig.


4. Say "I told you so" repeatedly and with conviction.


5. Assume a glassy eyed stare whenever a wingnut or moonbat opens his gob to emit vomitous rhetoric.


6. Maybe a little more #1 with a dash of extra #2.


7. Stop making numbered lists.


8. Change my mind about #7.


9. Eventually make those damned cookies!


10. Lots and lots of sleeping.

There. That's a healthy list of 10 resolutions. I am on the road to personal success and satisfaction now.

Feel free to chime in with your own in the comments. I must warn you though - if I get the impression that they are serious attempts at self improvement I will heckle you mercilessly.

I bet epileptics are the freaking kings of masturbation.

Druggies going through DTs might give them a run for the money but they're probably just not as 'into it'.

This is probably going to bother me until I find an epileptic and a druggy and have them compare notes.

Koffi Annan:

"Our response to this unprecedented catastrophe must be equally unprecedented."

Since the tsunami deaths and displacement are more than assuredly precedented in numbers he must mean that the genocide in Sudan does not qualify as a catastrophe. Doesn't the systematic murder and forced displacement of the black populace of Sudan by the ruling Islamic power seem catastrophic to you?

There are some serious differences between these two catastrophes though. One was an unpredictable natural disaster, the other is an ongoing disaster perpetrated by man against man. One has garnered massive international aid, the other has been largely ignored. One has Koffi Annan calling for a billion dollars for assistance, the other is a UN budget item. One has the full backing of the UN, the other is a footnote to partisan byblows.

Most importantly, one has absolutely nothing to do with the UN charter while the other is precisely what the UN was formed to deal with.

The UN is dead in all but name. They function adequately as a substitute and support mechanism for international humanitarian aid but this is not their purpose. For the crises they were created to deal with they have the same success and authority as a crackpot in the woods writing letters to the editor.

When they need life-saving prescription medication they are a kid, therefore not permitted to carry prescription medication.

When they want a tan they are a kid, therefore not permitted to use a tanning bed.

When they want an abortion they are not a kid. They can leave class with the school's blessing, escorted by a non-guardian and unrelated adult, and go get an abortion.

In California (and too many other states), a kid is a kid when a special interest group has bullied or bargained their narrow focus into law.

Stop legislating morality. Let kids be kids and let their parents raise them.

(Inspired by an excellent post at Different River. Go there for links to all of those news items.)

It was a beautiful sunny day. One of those superior Saturdays in July with eighty something degree temperature and a delightful little breeze. We took the boys down the the town green in Duluth. There is a big open fountain that the kids love to play in and a ready supply of water for the numerous squirt guns that anti-social folk like us keep ready to hand.

We had a blast with only a few threats of death by strangulation for our aquatic mischief. There was a minor issue when we discovered a lack of dry clothing to change into. A bag had been forgotten when we packed up the van. We solved the problem by enjoying some ice cream cones while we waited for our clothes to dry. Not having a new pull-up for Burger was a concern but we sat him down on a few towels in case there was an accident in the van.

On the way home we decided to stop at Blockbuster. There was a new GameCube in the house and the Bear was dying to get something to play. This turned out to be a less than ideal decision. You see, the children were almost completely re-energized by the rest at the end of play and were now highly fueled by the sugar rich ice cream snack. We were not so much looking for things to rent as we were herding cats.

We split up in an attempt to cover more territory. The boys seemed to be gravitating toward the tower of games display where every console system is set up with demo games. I was stationed in this area keeping an eye on Bear and Bacon as Lovely Wife tried to quickly find a rental so we could escape.

Paul lost a big-ass post. Don't you just hate it when that happens? I don't. That is, I would hate it if it happened but I learned long ago to protect my sanity and will to live by typing my posts in Notepad. There's an even better way now!

Rob found this nifty little utility called SharpMT. Offline post creation integrated with your Moveable Type blog! Holy sweetness, Batman!

It's got spellcheck, auto book lookup, some music thing I haven't figured out yet, formatting, URL and formatting doohickeys, multiple categories, extended entry and excerpt support, all those doohickeys at the bottom of the MT entry screen that you never use but just might want to check out some day ... hot damn!

I wrote this post in it, by the way.

Update: And I updated it in SharpMT too! Damn, I love toys. Especially useful ones!

Update: Okay, editing seems to just make a new post so don't do that.

The boys are illin'. It started on Sunday with Bear. A 103 degree fever, listless apathy and miserability. Sore throat, no appetite, unquenchable thirst. All you parents out there are thinking "strep", right? So were we.

Sunday night featured Burger getting it. He was up the entire night crying and whining, just totally miserable. Monday morning brought Bacon into the mix with symptoms even more severe than the others.

A look down the throats Monday eve showed severe red irritation and white spots. Strep. Egad! After a relatively unsuccessful dinner of Jim's super-fluffy scrambled eggs (traditional sicko comfort food) we packed up the miserable lot and headed to the urgent care center.

I just finished an excellent article on Evil SQA Practices that would bore the vast majority of you into a stupor the envy of major drug manufacturers. But one bit of it rang a big ol' bell in my noggin:

There was a small Polynesian island in a remote part of the Pacific Rim where the inhabitants lived in grass huts and raised pigs for their skins. One night, during an intense tropical storm, lightening struck a hut with a pig inside. The hut burned to the ground, and the next day, as the locals were sifting through the charred remains of the hut, they came across the burned up and still smoldering pig. It smelled pretty good, so a young boy broke off a piece and tasted it. It tasted good. This is how the islanders discovered roasted pig. A week or so went by and the islanders got hungry for roast pig. So they put a pig inside another hut and burnt that hut to the ground.

So the practice was to burn down huts. The principle was wanting to satisfy their hunger, specifically for roasted pig. If the islanders would have continued to focus on practices, they would eventually become homeless. To, instead, focus on principles could have lead the islanders to the invention of the barbeque and have spared their huts.

So terrorism is a practice. Do they even remember their principles?

Ilyka made the 5,000th* comment on Snooze Button Dreams. It was a Happy New Year wish too, so that makes it extra special.

Ilyka, you win a year's supply of air and all the toilet paper in your house. Congratulations!

* Not counting the 10 or 11 thousand spam comments that have been deleted.

There is sickness running rampant in the house. No baking until I've passed the incubation period and know I'm not communicable.

The microphone purchase will need to wait until next paycheck. It comes down to mic or haircut and my hair is touching my ears. This causes obsessive compulsive hair management so must be corrected with extreme prejudice.

Counties are much smaller down here. Atlanta proper is in five of them and there are a good dozen in the Atlanta Metro area. Watch what counties you're house hunting in - some have a much higher property tax system than others.

Yay! Like a belated Christmas gift the sixth installment of The Great Dismal has arrived.

Oh, and Mr.Fielek? If I have to wait the better part of a quarter year for part VII after the way you ended VI, I will go bat-shit nutso. No pressure now but I thought you should know about the possible ramifications.

I never thought it could happen - a caption contest that returns not a single sexual innuendo. I'm speechless. And I'm buying a lottery ticket today.

Victor, I don't have the story behind this picture but if I had to hazard a guess I'd say it was along the lines of "Combine meets Cessna. Cessna loses."

Grand Prize: 5 points
Heard minutes before: "Hey guys! Watch this!"
Kev

First runner up: 3 points (selected by a homeless puppy with big sad eyes)
And that's why boxcutters aren't allowed on SMALL planes, either.
Harvey

Second runner up: 2 points (selected by all the rice in China)
You think THAT'S tight formation flying? You ain't seen nuthin'... watch THIS...
Mike the Marine

Third runner up: 1 point (selected by Dan Rather, on an IBM Selectrix)
Sissors beats paper.
Susie

It's 70 degrees and sunny. On January 1. Global warming kicks ass!

We've procured a stash of fire wood for some burnin' this evening. Trey's coming over and I'm making my world famous spinach stuffed portabella mushrooms with butter sauce.

I have no hangover. I can't remember the last time I had a January 1 without a hangover. I think I was 9.

The new year is starting out smashingly well.

And, as I look back on the year in review it doesn't seem nearly as bad as it did when we were going through it. True, I lost my job. But then again I got a better job. True also that I got very ill. I'm mostly better now. The only thing that's still bothering me much about that is my feet and they're on the way to getting fixed now.

Add into that our menagerie. Sure I bitch about hosting the Peacock Zoo but the truth is I love animals and as long as I'm not cleaning litter boxes they get a net positive balance.

We've got a new house in a neighborhood that we love. The firework displays around the neighborhood last night might have been a shade less dramatic that professional shows but they more than made up for it with enthusiasm and variety. That's the kind of neighborhood I want my kids growing up in.

Friends - I've made loads of them through this weblog this year. I've greatly strengthened other ones. We rediscovered friends we'd sort of lost over distance since we moved. It was a great year for friendships.

So even though there were some very dark roads to walk down this year we not only made it through the dangerous parts, we ended up in a much better place. 2004 was a very good year.

Here's hoping that 2005 is even better (which it will be, with a bit of work) and wishing the same for all of you.

Happy New Year!