"In a democracy (‘rule by mob’), those who refuse to learn from history will be the majority and will dictate that everyone else suffer for their ignorance."
I suggest that all right-thinking people raise their voices and assert that the “Ground Zero Mosque,” A/K/A/ “Cordoba House,” SHOULD be built… as soon as a similar-sized Christian church and a Jewish synagogue are built here:
Sauce for the goose, friends. Of course, as soon as Islam shows one scintilla of genuine tolerance for other religious views it will cease to exist, for intolerance, hate, and violence against “unbelievers” are the bedrock of Islam.
If we are to believe the Mass MEdia Podpeople Hivemind characterization of the “Restoring Honor Rally” last Saturday in D.C., we’d come away with something like the See B.S. report of a “mere” 87,000, as opposed to some other, grudging, reports of better than 300,000 (reluctantly noted by NBC, with hints of 300,000 KKK hoods just waiting in the wings for all the fat, white crackers to don).
Pictures, though…
A Tea Party face if ever there was one. Little girl from Arlington, VA, holding an American flag while attending the the “Restoring Honor” rally, organized by Glenn Beck, in Washington, on Saturday, Aug. 28, 2010. How many lil white kids did the media find welcome at the Al Sharpton rally? *crickets chirping* Nope, no racism on the Left…
87,000? Well, there’s no B.S. like CBS.
And for a lil black humor *heh* here’s a screencap of CNN’s captioning gaffe, found at Michelle Malkin’s place:
As Malkin points out, three factual errors in one caption. A hat trick. WTG CNN! (Dumbasses)
Nothing earth-shattering (Kaboom!), but of passing interest to me…
Like Marat, I like to use a nice long soak for other things besides just “bathing”–notably reading and sometimes writing. Unfortunately, I don’t have a nice lil “bath desk” like he apparently did (according to the artist, at least), so reading eBooks–unless I wanted to do so on my Palm, which is on its last legs and so could be sacrificed to an accidental dunking–or writing a blogpost Is Not a Good Idea. Fortunately,though, no one’s assassinated me during a nice long soak… yet.
But I may have cause for a bit of paranoia in that department (is it paranoia if someone really is out to get you?). Let me back up a bit…
When Lovely Daughter moved back in for a short while in order to save money and retire a few debts (a Very Good Thing!), she brought with her a cat that has proven to be the most boring cat I’ve ever known. Most cats I’ve known or “had” (the jury’s out on who was the “haver” in those relationships) have been real… characters. Our current chosen (again, who really did the choosing, I sometimes wonder, as he wandered up one day and decided he belonged here) feline “roommate” is a very interesting character who sometimes wanders around carrying on conversations with his invisible friends and who plays ball with himself, when he doesn’t manage to finagle me into playing fetch with him. Yes, he really does return his balls to me and watch expectantly for me to toss them for him again.
But Lovely Daughter’s cat? Just “Food, now!” and “Pet me!” Boring.
Recently, though, he’s taken to pushing open the bathroom door while I’m doing a soak/read, if the door’s not been latched well enough. Then? He perches on the rim of the tub and stares (glares?) at me in a threatening manner. *heh* Even more recently, he’s begun stepping onto my chest and pushing himself in my face with a big “Pet me, or else!” demand.
I have begun wondering if Marat’s fate awaits me if I were to refuse.
Then again, I’ve started contemplating some sort of retaliation for the harassment. Perhaps a quick sweeping motion dumping him into a full bath…
Well, at least he’s finally showing some sort of character.
Seen the Geiko commercial featuring the “Little Piggy Who Cried ‘Wee!’ All the Way Home”?
One word: bacon.
I really wish I had time to fit this into my Fall schedule. Really I do…
*heh*
Doug Wilson reminds us what we get when we place our attentions on the wrong things and listen to the wrong people:
We do not look to the modernists for anything but stainless steel despair. Bigger, faster, shinier! And we do not look to the pomos* for anything but bootless confusions. When you finally get that quorum of clowns, you are going to have a circus. What did you expect?
*”pomos” are, of course, postmodernists, that gaggle of geese to whom meaning is “just semantics“. *gag-spit*
What it lacks in rhythm and rhyme–simple craftsmanship–the original is well known for, it makes up for–somewhat–in content:
Mel has issued a challenge: post a photo of oneself in “early morning glory”as it were. While I’m not fond of breaking cameras (ask at the license bureau about their camera), I decided to go ahead and risk the webcam in my lil toy notebook.
Note the hat and shades. (Need protection from early morning sun through front window.) Note also the primary reason to get up in the a.m. *heh*
There. Happy now, Mel? 😉
I’m baffled by self-described libertarians who defend the idea of a “culture center” celebrating jihad’s most visible victory being installed a few hundred feet from round Zero in NYC. The “Cordoba House” (and doesn’t the very name say it all?) would be a celebration of everything libertarian thought supposedly despises: a hate cult that has for a millennium and a half expanded by means of violent imposition of its philosophy, offering only death, slavery, rape and pillage to those who refuse to submit to its hate cult.
But then, in my experience of the breed, most self-described libertarians are just wimpy crybabies anyway, concerned only when they see such tyranny attempt to impose itself on them. Watching a hate cult begin its campaign to impose itself on others is just fine and dandy by them. Every tyrannical cult in history has depended on people who say, “I am not my brother’s keeper.”
The bane of having read voraciously since an early age: bad writing stands out like a sore thumb. Now, don’t take that as an assertion that I can readily emulate good writing. No, I’m simply critical of others’ bad writing. *heh*
What spurred me to comment once again? Raymond Khoury. I picked up his first novel at the library yesterday while I was there checking my email and performing other “essential” connectivity tasks (because service had not yet been restored here at twc central). What a waste of time. Cardboard cutouts for characters, straight from central casting–no surprise since Khoury apparently cut his teeth on television production–combined with stock “footage” of scenes from all the really boring cops shows that’ve come down the pike are bad enough, but his presentation is worse.
Example: a car chase (near New York City’s Central Park, no less), complete with driving through a chain link fence and vacant lot (where?!?) and this little gem of stupidity:
“Reilly jinked the Chrysler through a chicane-like cluster of cars and trucks… “
OK, setting aside the Irish Catholic “cop” (OK, in order to make him BIGGER, Khoury’s “promoted” the cop to FBI agent *feh*) as the primary in a novel about a stolen Vatican artifact *sigh*, what’s with “chicane-like cluster of cars and trucks”? Really stupid. Better, if one is going to have the boring car chase at all, would be “through a chicane of cars and trucks”. Much better imagery, much tighter reading. (Assuming the subliterate boobs reading the book were to know what a chicane is. Or how to use a dictionary to find out.)
But everything in the first 70 pages of this book has persuaded me that this is as good as it gets. The best is pedestrian stock “footage” from bad cop shows. This is one of those rare books I have no desire or motivation whatsoever to read to its predictably boring conclusion.
I suppose it’s a truism for a reason, but the good writers just don’t write fast enough. *heh* And writers like Khoury (and Dan Brown, for that matter–a few of the worst-wasted hours of my life were forcing myself to finish a Dan Brown best-seller) flourish–and even make best seller lists–because their readers are subliterate boobs who would’t recognize good writing if someone slapped them between the eyes with it. OK, OK, I’d not recognize good writing if it were presented to me in that fashion either, but you get my intent, eh? 🙂