third world county

[bump] Who needs the pressure whenthere’s so much good stuff to choose from?

But really, now, when presented something like this comment to a post on Jackson’s Junction
about Dan Blather’s signoff as C–B.S. “News” anchor, I’m tempted to label it “quote of the day”—

“O’l Dan Looked tighter than a long-necked wombat wearing a hat full of cranberries.”–’Ken’

It’s great art like that that convinced me to stop attempting poetry. That sentence just begs to be set to music… Where, oh where, is a Marty Robbins when you need one?

Ahh! Found Marty Robbins’ backup guys…

[Not!] Apparently they’re underwater or something, but maybe it’ll give Dan Blather’s Last Standâ„¢ a lil background music… (see below)

Would someone please set this liar’s pants on fire?

Here’s the car that Italian commie “journalist” Giuliana Sgrena claims had “300 and 400 bullets [fired] at if from an armoured vehicle” (quoting her lying mouth in an article in Il Manifesto). As one wag noted, great marksmanship to fit all those bullets into 3-4 holes…

Pic from The Jawa Report. See more at the link. (Thx to Glenn Reynolds for the link to The Jawa Report)

Oh, and a h.t. to The Jawa Report for the link to Jeff Goldstien’s droll take on Giuliana Sgrena.

Addendum: Austin Bay, writing at Strategy Page, has a trenchant observation (read the whole thing, would you?):

“…one rule never changes at a roadblock: Even escorted military convoys slow down as they approach a roadblock. As for a single civilian auto approaching at high speed? If a driver doesn’t hit the brakes, the troops will shoot.”

Of course. Nearly everyone is bemoaning the “tragic mistake” that led to the death of the security agent Nicola Calipari. But one has to ask, who made the mistake of approaching, without even slowing, a military checkpoint? The expert security agent in the car (said Nicola Calipari) had been in Iraq before, delivering another ranson in the Italian terrorist funding program. he knew the rules of engagement and the rules ofthe road. The barriers and checkpoints are not only clearly marked, they are, by now, well-known traffic choke points.

Sounds like the expert security agent, as noble as his act of throwing himself on top of the commie journalist he was there to take back to Italy, also provided a wee lesson in evolution in action.

It’s that, or run around in a mad rage breaking things…

Sometimes it’s good to break things. Frank J. at IMAO has another sardonic editorial up. This one mocks the Dems push to give convicted felons the vote. An excerpt for flavor:

…conservatives have been making statement against the effectiveness gun control for a while in the form of “If someone is planning on killing someone, he won’t have any compunction about breaking gun laws.” Democrats must have finally taken that to heart and expanded the logic to “If someone is capable of murder, he probably won’t have any compunction about voting for a Democrat.”

Indeed.

A Visit to the Weird World of Dreamland

OK, get this. I was dreaming this morning (yes, it was in color, and yes, I remember—some of—my dreams) and in my dream, I met my wife for the first time in a Chinese restaurant (not where we really met, of course). From that point on, fate took a hand (it was a dream). We continued to meet at the Chinese restaurant, fell in love and became engaged—all in that Chinese restaurant.

Mama-san (how I knew her name is a mystery, of course), the owner, was delighted and counseled us on which day was most fortuitous for us to tie the knot. She, of course, was not only a J.P but also a Methodist minister and would perform the ceremony. (Why Methodist? I dunno. Analyze that.)

Came the day and I’m waiting for my bride to appear. Naturally, I notice at the very last instant that I do not have on the socks my lovely bride chose for me. Oops. Not a good omen. I find them in my coat pocket and change in the blink of an eye. (Did I mention that I’m Superman—in my dreams… )

Another oops: pants have a spot. Another Supernman moment and I’m still waiting for my bride to walk down the aisle (in the Chinese restaurant).

It was a wonderful ceremony. The honeymoon was just starting when… “Time to get up, sweetheart.”

*sigh* Sleep over.

At least I woke to see my bride.

Happy thought, that.

The hallmark of tyranny

The central characteristic of tyrannical rule is this: the citizen is replaced by the subject and rights are replaced by priviledges allowed by the tyrant. And so we see the tyrant displayed in McCain-Feingold, where a right once specifically ennumerated by the Constitution (free political speech) has now become a regulated priviledge. The blogstorm this last week over the proposal to apply McCain-Feingold to blogs by re-defining political speech on a blog as a “contribution in kind” to some politician/political party or other political entity so that it can be regulated (controlled, stiffled, etc.) by our political masters indicates that the pols’ goal of complete subjugation of what was once the American citizenry is not quite yet complete (except in airports, where the Thousands Standing Around can command complete servility from us all).

Despite (or perhaps in part because) of his lapse into vulgarity, Kim du Toit sums up a very proper response to such action here.

I suspect that attempting to enforce “consequences” for practicing what the First Amendment guarantees against such as Kim might well carry consequences of its own for those petty tyrants stupid enough to try it.

Good.

More (and a bump): Since all most people hear about the First Amendment to the Constitution is what the Mass Medua Podpeople choose to represent, I think that every time I discuss a First Amendment issue in any way, I ought to post the thing. Heck, any time I mention anything regarding the Constitution, I suppose I ought to include whatever relevant clause applies. Of course, if I happen to be commenting on any recent Supreme Court decisions, I might just have to post a blank, since so many seem to have revolved recently around ruminations over goat entrails rather than the Constitution…

Herewith, Amendment I

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

There. It’s written in plain language in a vocabulary easily accessible to sixth-graders of my generation (which means most college graduates today can grasp its plain text. Most. I do not count people with advanced degrees in English majoring in textual criticism. Those so blessed generally can’t parse their way out of an oatmeal carton.)

Now, tell me: what part of “Congress shall make no law… abridging the freedom of speech…” did our congresscritters, President Bush (he signed the damned thing—and I’m speaking theologically when I say “damned”—and the Supreme Idiots not understand when McCain-Feingold was passed, signed and affirmed? (The one dishonorable thing Bush did in his first term was sign thisabortion of a bill, thinking the Supreme idiots would surely knock the pins out from under it. Shoulda vetoed the thing… It’s one honest answer he could have given when asked what mistakes he has made, apart from trusting apointees to be honorable, that is.)

In more ways than just in the voting booth

Still over at Reihl World View… Dan notes that Chris Matthews, apparently reporting from the SciFi channel, breaks the astonishing “news” that Algore won’t be running in ’08 with all the breathless wonder that one might “break” the story that Arafat no longer heads the P-L-O.

Chris Matthews/Algore: a perfect match. One has all the flaming, empty emotion necessary to animate the other’s cold, dead corpse (though someone really ought to have pried the potential keys to public office from the cold dead hands of Algore long ago. You know, back when it was first noted that his natural constituency, those of his own “kind” populated only B-movie “Night of the Living Dead” horror flicks. He’s still as cold and dead as ever, but apparently no one has the nerve to nail his coffin shut. You do have to kinda wonder when/how Tipper decided that necrophilia wasn’t as bad as rock and rap… I still have nightmares every now and then featuring the corpse and tongue play at the 2000 Democon… scary stuff, that.).

(Shades of Blazing Saddles) “I’m tired…”

Getting just a wee tad tired of Blogger problems. Check, double-check and triple-check html and… blogger keeps inserting its own errors and insisting I fix them!

*sigh* It’s getting a wee tad old.

Can it be true???

Read Riehl World View‘s shocking exposé:

“Dean Survives [Brain] Transplant”

(Of course we know this is a spoof. Dean can’t have a brain transplant. It’d have to be an implant. And of course, Hillarystein is too well-endowed, umm, mentally, to attempt a brain transplant on Algore. The Collective would assimilate any such transplanted brain… )