Could you put ANY more spin on that??

"Today, John McCain put the former mayor of a town of 9,000 with zero foreign policy experience a heartbeat away from the presidency," Adrianne Marsh, a spokeswoman for Obama, said in a written statement.

Yeah, because being governor of the largest and second-most isolated state in the Union gets you nothing. Low population, you say? I would respond that the execution of services for such a vast state gives one very little in the way of benefit from its lack of population density.

Furthermore, exactly what is the executive record of the Obama / Biden ticket? Well, it would appear that Obama has the lion's share of experience as the executive of anything:

• three years as director of Developing Communities Project, a "a church-based community organization" with a staff of a whopping 13 and a maximum budget of $400k. (That wouldn't run most towns of 9,ooo people for more than 6 months.)
• Editor of the Harvard Law Review, based on grades and a writing contest.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Palin is the governor of a state that is not only larger in size than Sweden, Norway, Finland, Denmark, and the United Kingdom combined, but has a population of 683,478, and total revenues of $12.3 Billion in 2007.

Oh, and that town that Mrs. Palin was mayor of for two terms? It was proposed to become the state capital in 1994, a move which only lost in a 1 : .83 ratio. (96,398 for, 116,277 against.) That would tend to indicate that her little hamlet was of more importance than one might think.

To quote my pal LabRat: "...While Obama technically has more experience in government, he has zero executive experience, whereas even a small-town mayor has to make more decisions and be surer of them than someone who can vote “present” and take off for lunch." I submit that Palin has more executive experience in government than Barry O, and that a Boy Scout patrol leader has more executive experience than Joe Biden.

A heartbeat away? I'm okay with that. WAY more so than I would be, with Joseph Biden waiting in the wings.

And Ms. Adrianne Marsh, please keep in mind that that "former" stuff works both ways, m'kay? Because if we play it that way, you're shilling for a former editor of a school newspaper who worked as paid director for a very small charity agency.

Seems like the running mates came out a little later, this election.

And, frankly, they're pretty damned significant choices, to me.

Barrack Obama, a well-spoken man who refuses to be pinned down on specifics about most any position, has chosen one of the most anti-2nd Amendment running mates that this nation has ever seen.

John McCain, a man who has made a living speaking out on what he thought was important even if it irritates his party, has chosen a pro-gun-rights governor to be his running mate.



Vote for this ticket. Vote McCain / Palin for 2008.

(H/T to Breda.)

101: Buy a helmet.

It sucks when the Irony Gods put their crosshairs on you.

Louisiana's going to get some rain, looks like.

This tropical storm Gustav is about to enter the Gulf of Mexico, which is known for supercharging summer rain showers into Category Eleventeen Hurry-canes. We figure that, since it's already about to go all cyclonic before it hits Cuba, it's bound to be a bad mamma-jamma by the time it makes continental landfall. Looks kinda likely that N'Awlins is about to see some of that.


Let the over-reactions and under-reactions begin!

After a lot of thought, I've decided to throw my hat in the ring.

Making A race about race

The Republicans are playing a rather nuanced game, right now, in that they're cheering Obama for his history-making nomination* because he's black. (Well, sort of. Okay, he's black enough.)

"We can all share in how far we've come," said CNN conservative political analyst Amy Holmes, who is African-American.

Nice. Gotta qualify that the GOP type making the comment is black. (My South-African-by-way-of-Louisiana friend Bayou Renaissance Man is "African-American," and he seriously needs SPF 45 or better on a cloudy day. Why use terms that don't mean anything?) Ever noticed that we're focusing on the middle name of a presidential candidate now more than ever? Anybody got a clue what Al Gore's middle name is? **

Why does a terribly offensive (but damned funny) scene from Clerks II ** come to mind?
____________________________________________________
*This is news? Hillary threw in the towel about 2.5 months ago. I don't think that, at any time in my life, the DNC has actually meant anything except as a pep rally. Roger Mudd says that during the postwar years it was sumpin' to see.

**It's Arnold. And our current prez, who was a former part owner of the Texas Rangers baseball team, has the middle name of Walker. But all you hear is "W."

***Seriously-- don't click on this link. It includes a LOT of cursing, and some offensive racial terms. This is not safe for work.

Today's earworm.

All damned day, and most of yesterday, the earworm has been none other than "Waterloo" by frickin' ABBA. I'm so ashamed.

Even my 6 year-old's favorite morning wake-up song doesn't get it out of my head.

Even a successful Wikipedia safari find doesn't drive it out of my head.

Damn. Shoot me now.

Flourescent Simian Ensemble

I don't recall if it was over Mexican food, catfish, or barbecue (my money's on the first), when LawDog first related to our company of friends and family the story of the Pink Gorilla Suit. And since he first laid out a little teaser of the tale a couple of years ago or so, his Faithful Readers have been hounding him for the Rest Of The Story.

But he's stalwartly held out, because the 'Dog, you see, is nothing if not the consumate showman.

But he's finally caved, and now, possibly for A Limited Time Only, you can go read the full story of LawDog And The Pink Gorilla Suit.

Enjoy.

A comment on marriage that I'll listen to.

Online pal Sabra posted a comment that's too damned profound to be lost in the comments section of my last blog post:

I think most of the "we grew apart" divorces could be prevented, if the people want to.I agree with love and respect, but I have to point out that both genders want both things.

In hindsight, a LOT of what went wrong in my marriage boiled down to: I was so hurt and so lonely that I ignored my husband's pain and loneliness in favor of my own, as he ignored mine in favor of his. Which came first? Doesn't really matter in the long run. But if we'd been as nice to each other during our marriage as we learned to be during our separation, things probably would've been different.

Verklempt

Think of the coolest married couple you know.

Now make one of them your best friend of a quarter century.

Now have your best friend come tell you that he doesn't know why his marriage is suddenly at the brink of divorce.

There is no answer. There's no "reason," in the traditional sense.

There's no advice to give.

These two wonderful people are together so much greater than the sum of their wholes. Yet here they are, and they don't know why. I sure as hell don't.

Damn it.

I don't surf Craig's List much...

...and if I did, I wouldn't put any time into the "Casual Encounters" section.

But since I've had this post brought to my attention, I have to ask:

Wouldn't that be a little off-topic? Nothing about it sounds casual. It sounds quite formal, I should say.
_____________________
(Yes, I note that the linked posting is not hosted by Craig's List. I suppose that it's possible that someone else just decided to host it, since it likely would have been deleted by now. In fact, don't we all pray, and fervently so, that this is a hoax?)

No surprise, there.

Hong Kong doesn't want Gary Glitter, either.

But the U.K. does:

"It's important that Glitter comes back here and that he's carefullyrisk-assessed here in the UK, where we can do that," said Zoe Hilton. "It's important that we stop him traveling overseas again where he is a known risk of abusing children."

Why? So y'all can give him another whopping four months in jail? I mean, I admire that the U.K. is willing to take on their own responsibility to the extent that they'll allow a frickin' child molester back into their nations, but good Lord; the man has been risk-assessed, but you won't do what needs doing over there, beyond letting your citizens spork him to death mild irritation.

Hell, if he came to the U.S., we have Cranky lady literature professors who will do what needs doing, even.

Shocked. Shocked!

Comes now promoter of the BigFoot find, who just figured out that the BFIF (Big Foot In the Freezer) was rubber. He just wants to set the record straight, and clear the air.

Seems the two LE types who brought it to him might've fibbed, a tad.

Anybody else sense a promotion to Detective?

Heh.

EDIT:
The two law enforcement types (a cop and a jail medic) have absconded with the money. The cop's been fired. No word on the medic. Fraud charges and civil suits are pending.

What the hell good is it, being one of the last Communist nations...

...if you can't shoot convicted child-molesters on sight, after they've been convicted by your government?!???

The last grain of sand

Imagine starting a daily blog on the day that the doctor told you that you've got a bad case of cancer. Leroy Siever did that. That blog ended, after 2 years, on August 16, 2008.

Death is a curious thing. I think about it a little bit, these days, when I didn't, before. My children ask me about it, and I don't have answers, beyond the fact (I pray) that I will preceed them.

Dial 911. Make a cop come.

I feel compelled, yet again, to beseech all of y'all to help remind our fellow citizens that, if your concern is worth waking up an off-duty officer whom you don't know at his house, then it's worth dialing 911 to summon an officer to your location. By way of illustration, I give you the following interaction, which has occurred at some point in the fairly recent past:

Stranger woman: [Banging on the door] Hello?

Me: [Sleepily answering the door] Do wha? Huh? Whaza? How kin ah he'p you?

SW: I saw the police car parked out front. Are you a police man?

Me: Uh huh. Whaza... What's going on?

SW: Well, I was at the park, and these dogs attacked me, and, and I feel silly not having called before-- this is the third time this has happened.

Me: Uh, did you call 911? [Gesturing to her iPhone in her hand.]

SW: Well, no, I didn't know the number to the police department. So I went to the police department, and no one was there, and...

Me: Why not call 911?

SW: Well, I just didn't think it would be that important....

Me: Ma'am, I can assure you that there is nothing more important than the safety of our citizens. If you're attacked, please call 911 immediately. As it's now passed, please call the non-emergency number (posted on the door to the police department) to make a report to the on-duty officer.

SW: But I didn't think it would be important enough to call 911 about.

Me: But you felt it was important enough to wake up a sleeping off-duty cop to report it, even after the fact, at his house...?

SW: Well, I hadn't thought about that.

Me: [Yawning.] Lemme give you that non-emergency number.

Big Foot = Big fake.

Okay, that's kind of a let-down.

I mean, I was thinking "they got an old chimp from a collector, or from a zoo or a failing circus. Or maybe they got a bear. Yeah, a black bear."

But a 'possum?!?

Strange that my wife and I were just talking tonight about how amazing it is, that in this world of about 7 billion people, we still occasionally find new species. Sure, most of 'em are from under water. Or really, really small. But there are new species to be found, it seems. They just aren't 7 feet tall, wandering undetected through the shrinking wilderness in a state of 9.3 million people.

All about the ratings.

Overheard between Olympic officials at the end of the 1992 Olympics:

Official #1: Well that was good. The ratings could have been better, but I thought it turned out okay...

Official #2: Yeah, about those ratings... have you seen our precious metal costs lately? They've gone right through the roof!

Official #1: Well, part of the problem is that we've got so many events. Maybe if we cut some...
Official #2: Actually, I was thinking of adding one, and using the popularity of it to charge more for the franchise bennies.

Official #1: Add an event!?! Are you frickin' crazy!?? Which event?

Official #2: Actually, it's two events: Men's and Women's Beach Volleyball.

Official #1: How the hell will that help?!? We've already got Men's and Women's Volleyball.

Official #2: Uh, have you seen the uniforms?

Official #1: Make it so. Make it so right-the-hell-now.

Official #2: Already got it slated for '96.

Where does the brink lie?

The evidence seems to support my long-held conclusion that, if one's bank account increases, there is a point at which the average person will become so insulated from the real world that they will lose contact with reality. This is akin to insanity, but is actually kind of understandable, inasmuch as the person's bearings shift so that they don't actually have good benchmarks on what reality is.

Sadly, it is typically those who have so completely passed that brink who have the most access to mainstream media sources, to sound their opinions on what is right and proper.

So where does the brink lie, for an average person, in today's economy?

I would have to say that a person is independently wealthy if he has $3 million. Invested wisely, it would be no trick to bring in 7.5% interest, which would give that person $225,000 a year to live on without touching the principal. If you can't live comfortably off of that a year, you have a problem. Frankly, making half that ($112,500) in a year would be almost unimaginably wealthy for me, given my current financial status. Yet I don't think that would be enough to properly insulate one from the world he lives in.

So tell me, in comments: at what numerical point does the crayzee kick in, for the average person?

Sometimes I wonder...

What is the meaning behind the lyrics of the Manfred Man song "Blinded By The Light"?

I mean, even when you understand the word is "deuce," it doesn't make much sense.

Am I to understand that, in the seventies, all of you adults who weren't my parents were on drugs?

Dayum.

I'm not much of a sports person, but I'm astonished that the sports broadcasts aren't plastering Dara Torres' story all over the airwaves.

The first U.S. swimmer to compete in her FIFTH Olympics, Dara Torres yesterday earned a silver medal for anchoring the 4×100 meters women's relay swimming event, at 41 years of age.

But she's not just a team event competitor; she's still got her chops on her own. Last year, she broke her own U.S. record in 50 m freestyle, a cool 26 years after she set the damn record. Then she did it again, on the same day.

Nine Olympic medals, and counting.

Oh yeah... and she's hawt.

Tell me again why the felonious football players get all the airtime on the sports broadcasts?

50 Years Ago This Month...

...a mad scientist/gunsmith inventor obtained a patent for a new kind of gun, which was basically a double action revolver with open cylinders, which were fed by a magazine. The empty cases were ejected like a semi-automatic. Later that year, he also obtained a patent for the ammunition to feed his bizarre hybrid gun, introducing the word "tround" to the esoteric vocabulary of gunny folk everywhere.



The inventor was named Dardick, as was his new gun.

When In Rome...

...don't rape and kill the Roman children.

And hey! Look! The U.N. has found a new way to express its irrelevance.

Good for them.

Use this pink AR-15 to fight breast cancer.

Online pal Larry Correia watched his mother in-law go through the treatment for the cancer. Cancer of the breast.

Guys, think about how unhappy you would be if a certain symbol of your manhood were in danger of being removed. Now picture how unhappy you'd be if that was an outwardly visible (in shape) symbol of your masculinity, and it were threatened. Over half a million people a year die from breast cancer, and a whole lot more are cut on or poisoned to survive it.

So Larry, good guy that he is, says, "I have to do something." So he commissioned this very nice rifle to be built. It's a Stag 15, and if Larry says the work is good, then it's good.

Larry and his guys are auctioning this pretty off for $5 a ticket. $5 clams. 499 pennies plus the one you snag from the Give-A-Penny-Take-A-Penny tray at the grocery store. A sawbuck. 1/4 of the most typical denomination given you by the ATM. Well under the price of a McNastyburger Meal with large fries and large coke.

If you don't have an AR, you should buy a raffle ticket.

If you don't have a pink AR, you should buy a raffle ticket.

If you have a pink AR, but you know someone in your life who really needs a pink AR, then you should buy a raffle ticket.

If you HATE GUNS, and believe that no one should have an AR of any kind, then you should buy a LOT of raffle tickets, to take this Evil Pink Rifle Of Death out of the hands of those who would willingly... uh, shoot it or sumpin'.

As a matter of fact, without regard to your gun situation, you really need to buy several raffle tickets, because it goes toward breast cancer research. And it will. Larry is the type of man who will donate everything, and then empty his pockets to add more. And he'll send it all in.

Go HERE to find out more.

The raffle winner will be announced in October, but don't, don't, DON'T let it go 'til then, because it will be too late. And you won't get your pink rifle, and will miss your funnest chance to Nip Breast Cancer In The Bud.*

_______________________________

*(I really should be writing tag lines.)

Sadly, this isn't worthy of national news.

When I went to iGoogle this morning, I found that one of the three top stories that they put up as being newsworthy was this one, about the bond revocation of a convicted child molester.

Last year, Aaron Mohanlal, a Florida school teacher, was convicted of having spent the previous two years sexually assaulting one of his students.

Mohanlal, of course, appealed. While the case was on appeal, he put up some property as collateral for bond, to assure that he would not abscond. In order to assure that Due Process Of Law is served, he can avoid serving his convicted punishment by posting sufficient bond.

The appellate process is a worthy thing to have in our criminal justice system. It assures that improper court decisions do not stand. Courts do need oversight, to be sure. They are composed of humans, and humans make mistakes. Exculpatory evidence might have been ignored. Clear violations of rights may have gone unchallenged. Due process might not have been followed. Convictions in such instances might be thrown out.

In this instance, the teacher brought his student home to have sex. He sexually assaulted the student in a supply closet in the classroom. He bought the young student a cell phone so that he could have phone sex with the child. He was convicted of thirteen counts.

If his appeal --which might last up to two years-- failed, he would serve a 43 year prison sentence. As he is 41 now, that would amount to a life sentence if he served it all. He put up family land as collateral for the $610,000 bond set.

There's been some furor. The victim and his family are upset that he's out, even while wearing a GPS tracking device and surrendering his passport. Understandably, they are upset.

The judge, acting on evidence (a pending forclosure) that the property put up as collatoral does not (and did not) have the value represented to secure the bond, revoked Mohanlal's bond and ordered Mohanlal incarcerated in lieu of bond, pending his appeal. Mohanlal's spirited defense attorney challenged the trial judge's jurisdiction to do that, apparently claiming that it would now be the appellate court's venue to revoke bond. That challenge has thus far borne no fruit.

All of this is a real-life drama for the victim and his family, and for the convicted actor and his family, and for the community of Port St. Lucie, FL. The repercussions are serious.

But it's not national news. It's business as usual.

Like politics and sausage, you may appreciate criminal justice, but you don't want to see it made.

Friends, I've tried.

I've tried so hard to keep my online pal StingRay from straying from the path of righteousness.

"Go play with science," I say. "Do something constructive," I beg. In response, I get venal heading straight to carnal.

"Okay, take up a hobby," I say. He starts making beer, and annoying his wife.

"Uh, take up social activism. Or better yet, try shooting for a hobby," I suggest.

He comes up with a plan to be vulgar and piss off hippies while simultaneously turning it into a shooting event. I outright vetoed that one.

Well, now he comes up with this theorem of the Holy Trinity Of What Makes For A Good Guy.

Has he got enough credits for his PhD in Lunacy, yet?

How LabRat must suffer.