Chef Mojo

While preachers preach of evil fates...

I'm hoping something good comes of Live Earth, Al Gore's global revival meeting concert extravaganza.

If it turns out that this is the fitful twitching of the '60s before it shuffles off this mortal coil into the vale of complete irrelevancy, then it will have done a great service.

While cruising the blogosphere this morning (Interesting aside: My automatic spellcheck in Firefox just flagged "blogosphere." Ok. Added to the dictionary...), I'm finding lots of amusing stuff about Live Earth, including one piece in which Reverend Al invokes the prophet Bob:

The Live Earth concerts, which start this Saturday, July 7, are also one last chance for Baby Boomers to relive the “flower power” activism of the ’60s. In a recent interview in Rolling Stone, former Vice President Al Gore invoked music icon Bob Dylan to promote the importance of these concerts. Citing Dylan’s ‘60 anthem “The Times They Are A-Changin’”. Gore rambled: “What’s the old Bob Dylan line? ‘Come senators, congressmen, please heed the call/Rattle your windows’ - what’s the rest of it? - ‘for the times they are a-changin’.”

But there’s just one problem with invoking Dylan to hype the global warming scare. And that is that Dylan himself has expressed skepticism — to the same magazine — to the notion that global warming is a catastrophe. When he was asked by Rolling Stone founder and publisher Jann Wenner in the magazine’s 40th anniversary issue if he worried about global warming, Dylan replied with an unexpected rejoinder. He asked Wenner, “Where’s the global warming? It’s freezing here.” Wenner, who has blanketed Rolling Stone and his other magazine Men’s Journal with doom-and gloom climate change stories (that often bash CEI), quickly moved on to other topics after he received his comeuppance.

Yet Dylan’s latest statement may signal that in the global warming debate, the times are changing. Even independent-minded celebrities are now questioning the establishment media orthodoxy that the debate over global warming and its effects are all but over. In a phrase familiar to those who study pop culture, it appears that the global warming scare may have “jumped the shark.”

(emphasis mine)

I love Dylan. Dylan can say stuff like that, and Jann Wenner, grinding his teeth, has to print it because it's Bob Dylan. Bob is a walking, living, breathing hypocrisy barometer. Needless to say, Bob is not hanging out with Reverend Al today.

Here's hoping that this is the high water mark of Reverend Al's Apocalyse Now. Half filled arenas and stadiums featuring musicians, actors and politicians howling out in mass hysteria the likes of which we haven't seen since the Great Tulip Bubble of 1637. But this isn't an economic phenomenon so much as an attempt to create a religion with all its attendant dogma out of whole cloth, slyly co-opting junk science and false reason to achieve it's aims.

Well, Al, let's throw a little Bob back to you, shall we?

As some warn victory, some downfall
Private reasons great or small
Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
To make all that should be killed to crawl
While others say don't hate nothing at all
Except hatred.

Disillusioned words like bullets bark
As human gods aim for their mark
Made everything from toy guns that spark
To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
It's easy to see without looking too far
That not much
Is really sacred.

While preachers preach of evil fates
Teachers teach that knowledge waits
Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
Goodness hides behind its gates
But even the president of the United States
Sometimes must have
To stand naked.

That's one thing from the 60's that'll never lose relevancy...

(via Malkin and cross posted at Daily Pundit)

The Episcopal Church Is Really Weird...

Via NRO comes this vexing little article about a woman priest of the Episcopal Church who proclaims that she is both Christian and Muslim.

Shortly after noon on Fridays, the Rev. Ann Holmes Redding ties on a black headscarf, preparing to pray with her Muslim group on First Hill.

On Sunday mornings, Redding puts on the white collar of an Episcopal priest.

She does both, she says, because she's Christian and Muslim.

Redding, who until recently was director of faith formation at St. Mark's Episcopal Cathedral, has been a priest for more than 20 years. Now she's ready to tell people that, for the last 15 months, she's also been a Muslim — drawn to the faith after an introduction to Islamic prayers left her profoundly moved.

Her announcement has provoked surprise and bewilderment in many, raising an obvious question: How can someone be both a Christian and a Muslim?

Well, now. Isn't that special?

The article continues, spinning a strange story that's mostly leaving everyone confused. Except the Bishop, of course:

Redding's situation is highly unusual. Officials at the national Episcopal Church headquarters said they are not aware of any other instance in which a priest has also been a believer in another faith. They said it's up to the local bishop to decide whether such a priest could continue in that role.

Redding's bishop, the Rt. Rev. Vincent Warner, says he accepts Redding as an Episcopal priest and a Muslim, and that he finds the interfaith possibilities exciting. Her announcement, first made through a story in her diocese's newspaper, hasn't caused much controversy yet, he said.

And you think the Episcopalians are confused?

Some local Muslim leaders are perplexed.

Being both Muslim and Christian — "I don't know how that works," said Hisham Farajallah, president of the Islamic Center of Washington.

But Redding has been embraced by leaders at the Al-Islam Center of Seattle, the Muslim group she prays with.

"Islam doesn't say if you're a Christian, you're not a Muslim," said programming director Ayesha Anderson. "Islam doesn't lay it out like that."

Islam doesn't say if you're a Christian, you're not a Muslim. Huh? Try telling that to Mahmoud.

Mom, I think it's time to pack your bags and catch the last train before it leaves the station. The Episcopal Church has gone from being charmingly eccentric to being flat out weird, and it's just a thin hair away from being mind bogglingly stupid.

Hell

Hell is having to go to the scary laundromat in Scottsville, and upon arriving, finding out that the AC is shot. On a day when the heat and humidity rivals Panama.

But tomorrow, The Lady and I are picking up Mom and heading to Savannah for John and Michelle's wedding, so laundry must be done.

However, since I was last there, they've installed a video game for the tykes. It's in constant demo mode and it's extremely annoying. X-Men vs. Street Fighter. Oh, how I hate it.

Hot, humid and noisy. Very noisy. One of the washers I was using sounds like a 737 on takeoff during the final spin cycle.

After an hour and a half, I left the scary laundromat wringing wet with sweat. It never felt so good walking into the apartment.

In The Land Of The Blind, The Chef Is The IT Expert...

In my next job incarnation, I will not let on that I have even the slightest clue as to how to work a computer. Because, presently, if some guest at the Inn has a problem hooking up to our wireless network - And the problem is always on our end - then the ownder announces to the guest that she'll have the Chef, her resident IT expert, have a look at it. Of course, my knowledge is completely relative to the fact that I simply know more about computers than the rest of the staff, who know squat. This leads, in one case, to a couple of completely wasted hours after getting my ass slammed in the middle of UVA graduation week.

Of course, it is nice to see the sheepish look on the guest's face when I finally track the problem down the fact that his piece of crap wireless card is not reading on his piece of crap ancient IBM notebook running XP Pro.

Wait. Don't people get paid a lot of damn money to do this sort of work?

Grumble...

Dang

Ok. So gout can attack any joint in the body. Not just the big toe joint. It can actually attack one's right wrist, inflicting the most horrible pain known to man.

It would also explain a certain lack of blogging.

Y'know. Gout sucks. Straight up.

No Thanks

I was glad to come home to the news that 3 hostages had been rescued by US and British forces in Iraq. It's always great to get that sort of news.

But then I linked to the statement released on behalf of Christian Peacemaker Teams. It was pretty predictable. I don't agree with them, but that's ok. Then I got to this bit:

We believe that the illegal occupation of Iraq by Multinational Forces is the root cause of the insecurity which led to this kidnapping and so much pain and suffering in Iraq. The occupation must end.

Well, I guess I expected that. It just descends from there. Given what I had read about this group, I wasn't too suprised. Then I get to the end of the statement and realise that these so-called Christians haven't even bothered to thank the brave men and women who effected the release of their people. Not one stinking word of thanks to the men who risked their lives to rescue these hostages.

After all, in their minds it's the fault of their rescuers that they were kidnapped in the first place. It's the soldier's fault that Tom Fox was brutally tortured, beaten and shot. These petty farking assholes have the gall to call themselves Christians?

Not a single word of thanks to the ones who saved their damned lives.

Disgusting.

Bridezillas

One of the more brutal aspects of being a chef is the production of weddings and wedding related events, like showers and bridesmaids luncheons.

Well, we do quite a few of the latter. I had one today as a matter of fact.

A group of 22 women from North Carolina showed up today. Interesting group. Very upper crust southern gentry, and every damn one of them was a control freak.

Basically a group of past and present Bridezillas, as well as Bridezillas in training. Jeez.

The whole thing was planned down to the second. They brought their presents, and just had to have a sideboard to put them on. Of course, they brought in flowers by the carload, disrupting kitchen operations to get them set up. They moved the whole thing up a half hour. I keep saying "they" for a reason; the whole thing was planned by a committee. This committee has been meeting once a week for five months to get it all just right. They even had freaking games in the form of some sort of "quiz show" during the first course. Since my kitchen is open to the dining room, I kept wanting to shout, "Wait! Wait, don't tell me! I know this one, dammit!" They were all very loud, with the most annoying laughs and giggles you can imagine.

And the funny thing is, this lunch went rather well. Bridezillas they were, but in a tame, waltzing-through-Tokyo fashion as opposed to the more common scream-scream crush-crush trampling-and-razing-Tokyo Bridezilla.

I should be thankful, I guess.

Chef Rant

Here's something to remember, folks...

Don't walk in to the restaurant five minutes before closing with a 2 for 1 entree coupon, order a chicken, apple and brie sandwich, and then ask the Chef to cut off the "white stuff" on the outside of the brie because you don't like the "white stuff." Just don't. Really. Because, I have over a dozen cheeses that you can substitute for the brie and if you don't like the "white stuff" on the outside of the brie, then, goddammit, don't order the f%*king brie on the sandwich.

The Chef's reaction was not pretty. It's a Chef thing. Brie is brie, ok. You may as well ask me to remove the "blue stuff" from the Stilton, you dicksmack.

Now, go f(#k yourself and leave me alone.

Just Post SOMETHING, Dammit...

All right, already. Here's a post. Jeez.

Wow. I feel better for it, too!

I've just been floating along, installing a new OS, setting up a wireless network here at Domaine Mojo, helping The Lady break in her new iBook, which has been tenatively named White Zombie. It's been an interesting week, so far. Very techno-geek.

To sum up, we're wireless here, and The Lady is grooving big time on the laptop, plowing through work and so forth. Everything is working pretty well. The network is working. The Lady is able to transfer data between White Zombie and the iMac without problems.

Life is good here at Domaine Mojo.

John, if you're reading this, send me your last email. It got nuked, along with a bunch of other stuff, in the OS update. I just got the Fair Tax book when we went up this past weekend. Needless to say, I have not had a chance to read it yet...

Toast

I used to live in England. We were stationed there from 1976 to 1979, and I came away from there with a deep and abiding love of the UK and its people. We lived in a quaint little town/village called Chorleywood which was way out there on the Metropolitan line of the Underground. Nice little place. Great pub. Lovely semi-rural lifestyle outside of London.

Now, we traveled all over the country. We stayed in B&Bs and hotels and, in my case, hostels. And never in my wildest dreams would I have showed up at breakfast expecting the innkeepers to have biscuits (y'know, BISCUITS, not cookies...), sausage gravy and grits. Never. Nor would I have asked for them. I settled in and tucked into what was offered, either a continental breakfast or a full tilt English breakfast of really fatty bacon, greasy eggs, kippers and so forth. And of course, a rack of cold toast. I ate it, because that's what THEY ate, and that's part of the experience, right?

So why is it that every Englishman (or woman) who goes abroad expects to get freaking toast everywhere they go?

I had the English couple from hell the other day at breakfast. They wanted eggs, bacon and toast. We do an elaborate continental breakfast with housemade pastries, housemade muesli, fruit, wonderful Shenandoah Valley yogurt and the best quiche around. That morning, I had two quiches; sundried tomato and Smithfield bacon. They turned up their nose at that after lecturing me on the fact that Yanks haven't the faintest idea how to serve tea properly. I get this lecture from damn near every visitor from the UK. It got old years ago. He couldn't have the muesli because he was allergic to nuts (thanks for the heads up, guy!), she wanted scrambled eggs, and both of them wanted toast. I might, repeat might, have done them if they had not been such rude assclowns (and the English have the whole pouty/rude thing down to an art form...) about it and if I actually had eggs in the fridge that morning. I also don't have a toaster and the oven wasn't on, so that was out of the question. I've got a groaning sideboard of pastry and such and all they can think of is freaking toast.

I figure that this "toast" attitude is some sort of evolutionary vestige of the British Empire in the way an appendix is an evolutionary human anachronism; unnecessary and sometimes an extreme annoyance.

Oh. And there is a punchline to all this. They left their tea in a huff and went out to breakfast.

At McDonalds.

Lighten Up, Francis...

Let's see... A cartoon whose intention was to show the true face of radical Islam has actually... Well... Shown the face of radical Islam.

Roger that.

You know, I remember back in the day when Piss Christ was all the rage, so to speak. I recall the Catholics getting all riled up about it. I don't, however, recall them torching embassies, burning flags and issuing fatwas by the truckload. Must be a culture thing...

On the plus side, it's refreshing to see a flag other than the United States' get torched and trampled. Nice to know that, for now, the Danish are more hated and reviled by the Muslim world than Americans.

Think the Eurabians will learn anything from this?

Nah...

Bleah

Another goddamn cold. 4 days running now. Bleah.

Google

So, a few weeks back I was all hot about the government trying to subpoena search records from Google. Google was up there in righteous glory, defending themselves - rightly, in my view - against a serious encroachment of Internet privacy. I was firing off emails to my Senators and Congresscritter and frothing in high dudgeon over this government trampling of Liberty, and...

...then Google blew it. Completely.

Google is allowing the Chinese government set the criteria for Google searches in China.

Check this out:

Google image search for "tiananmen", American style

Google image search for "tiananmen", Chinese style

In the Chinese version, you get shiny happy people. In the American version, you get tanks.

Well, let's try this one out:

Google image search for "hong kong protests", American style.

Google image search for "hong kong protests", Chinese style.

In the Chinese version, you get one single photo in context, and that one is from the China News Daily, an official organ of the state. In the American version... Well. You get the picture. So to speak.

Now, I'm still on Google's side as far as Google v. Oppressive US Government is concerned, but...

Google has completely blown it's credibility on this matter. It's protests seem very shrill now, and more than a bit hypocritical. They're now flipping and flopping like a soon to be gutted fish trying to defend the indefensible. And having Bill Gates defend you in this is probably something I'd be shying away from, given Gates history in this sort of thing.

Well, there's always Teoma...

UPDATE: Via Instapundit, comes this nugget: PAUL BOUTIN discovers that the Chinese Google filter only works if you can spell.

Hmmm. Well, isn't that interesting. If the Internet can find a way around the rules, it will...

Breaking Blogblock

See. That's all I needed. Panda fornication. Does it all the time.

Welcome back!

Mr. Robertson's Neighborhood

Are you a little befuddled about where Pat Robertson's coming from these days? Well, here's a handy little map to help you keep track of Virginia Beach's very own village idiot.

(click to enlarge! It'a a miracle!)

Pat is one of those people who should really take the opportunity to shut the f%#k up every now and then. The whole "God's Wrath" thing is getting old, Pat. Way too Old Testament. You've got God looking like a frickin' thug at this point. Not buying it...

(tip 'o' the hat: The Commissar)

Speechless

In Burlington, Vermont, a man is convicted of raping a child - repeatedly over a four year period starting when she was seven - and receives a sentence of 60 days:

The judge said he no longer believes in punishment and is more concerned about rehabilitation.

Prosecutors argued that confessed child-rapist Mark Hulett, 34, of Williston deserved at least eight years behind bars for repeatedly raping a little girl countless times starting when she was seven.

But Judge Edward Cashman disagreed explaining that he no longer believes that punishment works.

"The one message I want to get through is that anger doesn't solve anything. It just corrodes your soul," said Judge Edward Cashman speaking to a packed Burlington courtroom. Most of the on-lookers were related to a young girl who was repeatedly raped by Mark Hulett who was in court to be sentenced.

Sweet weeping Jesus. The judge says this in the presence of that girls family? That punishment does not work? It's not supposed to work! It's supposed to punish! That's what punishment is for. You put filth like this in the deepest, darkest hole you can find for a very, very long time. Preferably until they are dead and thus no longer a threat to seven year old children. Filth like Mark Hulett have forsaken "rehabilitation."

Another point - This from the prosecution:

Prosecutors were seeking a sentence of eight to twenty years in prison, in part, as punishment.

"Punishment is a valid purpose," Chittenden Deputy Prosecutor Nicole Andreson argued to Judge Edward Cashman. 

"The state recognizes that the court may not agree or subscribe to that method of sentencing but the state does. The state thinks that it is a very important factor for the court to consider," Andreson added.

Geez. The State of Vermont only allows for a sentence of eight to twenty  years in prison, in part, as punishment. In part? What the hell?

The sentence outraged the victim's family who asked not to be identified.
    
"I don't like it," the victim's mother,in tears, told Channel 3. "He should pay for what he did to my baby and stop it here. She's not even home with me and he can be home for all this time, and do what he did in my house," she added.
    
Hulett -- who had been out on bail-- was taken away to start his sentence immediately.

60 days? This is justice?

(tip 'o' the hat: Ace, James Taranto)

With A Whimper...

And that's how the Holiday Season in the cookin' life ends. With a whimper. I'm damn sore and hurt. But today's service was mellow and ended with a bonus. Not the greatest, but more than I expected. Hey; it pays the rent...

So, now it's off to Mom's tomorrow. And time off until the 2nd of January. I'll need the downtime. Think I'll sleep in...

Fire Starter

Jesus. What a shitty day.

I mean, what can you say about a day where, just as I'm going into a crazy/busy lunch service, a brain addled homeless man decides to set fire to some books he has on the back stoop of the Inn. Would you not call that "shitty?"

All this on the heels of the previous day, which consisted of 14 hours of unmitigated hell without a break. Literally. The only break was a 4 minute phone call to The Lady to briefly describe how incredibly miserable I was at that point in time. Massive lunch followed by a bunch of prep and a 21st birthday party wherein I cooked my first Lebanese soup (fasoolya) to much acclaim. I stumbled out of the Inn at 9:30 last night and rolled on home to S'ville. The Lady, bless her, had a drink waiting for me. I soon fell into bed.

And then I got up. Damn.

Went in to do breakfast. Got through that in a zombified state of being. Coffee had very little effect on me. Started getting ready for lunch.

Steph, my waiter, had water issues at her house in the sticks and was late getting in. She walks into the kitchen and says, "Hey! Am I seeing things, or is there a guy on the back steps burning some books?"

I says, "Huh? Whaaa?" And I run to the back door, open it, and - lo and behold - there's this guy with an olive rain parka hunched over the fire he's made at the bottom of the steps.

"Hey, man! What the hell are you doing?"

He turns his head. Black man with horribly chapped lips and a vacant stare. He ignores me and turns back to his fire.

Well, hell.

I go back inside and Pat, my pastry chef, asks me what to do. I say dump some water on the sonofabitch while I call the cops.

So, while I'm on 911, Pat douses the guy's fire and calls Candace, the owner, who's next door in the Shop. The guy splits the scene. Candace, being the adventurous sort, decides to follow him.

Fire department arrives. Candace is halfway down Park Street trailing a mentally unbalanced fire starter. The Inn is filling up with lunch guests. Steph is taking orders. The Fire Marshall decides that this would be an excellent time to start citing me with fire code violations because of some broken down boxes under an emergency stairwell out back.

"What if this guy had started the fire there? You'd be in a bunch of trouble then. You gotta get this outta here ASAP!"

"What? Jesus? I don't need this lecture right now, sir. I've got a house full of people to feed."

"Well, where's the person in charge?"

"Goddammit, I am the person in charge at the moment! The owner is down on Park Street chasing down the guy who did this."

"Well, she shouldn't be doing that..."

"Hey, you tell her, ok?"

"Well, you need to get this cardboard taken care of..."

"Whatever, man. I gotta go cook."

Meanwhile, on Park Street, the cops have found Candace (Don't follow him! Stay put!), who is still following this guy. They get the guy. Ask him some questions.

And let him go.

Candace is telling me about this as I'm getting my ass reamed by a house full of diners. I nearly have a stroke. Seems our fire starter is a poor homeless guy who didn't want his books to get cold and so he fired them up.

So, based on this information, C'ville's finest let the guy go. Shit.

Meanwhile, we've gotten reamed by the Fire Department for cardboard.

What the hell did I call 911 for, again?

Ah, hell...

Rant

Nope. I'm finished with my rant. The Lady is a patient woman. I've had a rough day and an even worse tomorrow. I'll deal.

So. C'mon, rant on my bandwidth. Really. What's bugging you? Laura? Denevan? Bueller? Anyone? Let 'er rip in the comments!

Pray For Snow...

The Denevan and I so want it to snow like a mutha for various reasons that I will not go into here.

But suffice to say, a snow day is a snow day and we want one!

Dammit.

After all, I'm already loaded up on food and Adult Beverages from the last snow that we were supposed to get. To no avail. So bring on the snow and ice.

Weatherman, LET YOUR PEOPLE GO!!!

Or something like that...

WTF Is It With California?

Ok. This is freakin' ridiculous.

I was doing a little "window shopping" at the Sur La Table website. I decided to check out some Riedel glassware as possible Christmas presents when I notice the following in bold lettering under the description of the glassware in question:

California Prop. 65 WARNING: Use of this product will expose you to lead, a chemical known to the State of California to cause birth defects or other reproductive harm. You may return this product for a full refund within 30 days of receipt, if you wish. You may also obtain a list of each brand of leaded crystal tableware for which the same warning is given.

Sweet Jesus. What the hell is wrong with California? This is just pathetic. Will they not be satisfied until the entire population of the state is covered head to toe in a protective condom with a straw at the mouth to take in only the state approved but healthy and nutritious "food" slurry and appropriate waste receptacles at the front and back. For recycling, of course.

This protective, nanny state crap has gotten way out of hand. If we abolish anything that is dangerous to humans in any conceivable way, then we just may as well close up shop as a species.

Face it. Life is dangerous. So live dangerously. Buy some lead crystal and drink some wine from it! Go ahead, for the thrill of it all, ok?

Sheesh.

Crushed

It was one of those days. I got absolutely slammed at the Inn. November 30th was the last day everyone could use their 2005 Hospice coupons, and every procrastinator in C'ville decided to show up to use that damn coupon. They were crawling out of the woodwork like you wouldn't believe. We were turning them away and they were getting pissed off. Normally, I dream of days when we turn away people that didn't have the forsight to make a reservation, but sheesh...

So I got crushed. At around 1 o'clock this afternoon, I was thinking how nice it would be to be doing something less stressful, like being homeless in DC or being on the receiving end of prison sex. It was that bad.

Oh, and as a general rule; if you put bacon on the special, they will buy it. Especially if there's goat cheese in the picture. Special today: Roast breast of chicken topped with Smithfield bacon, chives and goat cheese and served over greens with a port wine vinaigrette. Sold 12 of them yesterday. Sold 18 today. Sweet Jesus.

Tim, my man; you did the right thing to get out of cooking for a living. It's rough and brutal. It's hell on the knees and joints in general.

Ah, well. Mammas, don't let your babies grow up to be... chefs.

November Spawned A Monster...

...And it's name is "Christmas."

That's right. It has begun.

On the way back home to S'ville last night from a perfectly wonderful long weekend, The Lady and I were subjected to countless cars with Christmas trees lashed to their roofs. It's not even December. Folks seem determined to have dry, flash-tinder trees by Christmas Day.

And I, being a Chef, am now subjected to the Season of Holiday Partying. The first one is for a brokerage firm on the 1st of December, and thereafter in a slow, inevitable stream of Good Cheer.

They all want my crab cakes.

I'd like you to take a moment this Holiday Season to remember the people who will suffer the torture of a thousand cuts to make it all merry for you; people in the retail and service (that's me!) sectors of this booming economy.

When you go out to a restaurant, and your server gives you good service, tip phat. And by phat, I mean 20+% like the pros do. It will bring a smile and good cheer to the recipient for a fleeting moment before he or she wades back into the chaotic, cold, miserable flood.

When you finally reach the checkout to pay for that Special Gift, give the person behind the register a smile and a bright "Thank you!" to shine a little light into the desperate gloom of their souls. They'll probably give you a deer-in-the-headlights look before smiling back. A deep breath and on to the next in an endless stream of Special Gifts until they get laid off on Christmas Eve. They may be temporary, but they're making it real for you.

If you're out late at a bar and see some cooks huddled around a table in the corner nursing shots of tequila in their calloused, knife and burn scarred hands, consider offering to buy them another round. It'll give them a little hope that what they do is actually more than a form of firefight without the benefit of weapons; that perhaps it is an art, a craft nobly pursued.

Nah. They'll just be interested in the free shot, but that's not the point.

The point is this. Be kind. Show some consideration and patience. Some grace. Some class. Somehow, it'll come back to you.

Further Thoughts On The Decline Of Western Civilization

I'm now getting Vi@gr@ spam in Spanish.

John Edwards Is A Liar

In an arrogant, blathering OpEd in the Washington Post today, John Edwards once again proves why he never was worthy to be Vice President. We came very close to having this idiot in office.

He starts off thusly:

I was wrong.

Almost three years ago we went into Iraq to remove what we were told -- and what many of us believed and argued -- was a threat to America. But in fact we now know that Iraq did not have weapons of mass destruction when our forces invaded Iraq in 2003. The intelligence was deeply flawed and, in some cases, manipulated to fit a political agenda.

Once again, the Democrats are doing what they do so well, and that is staying on message, even if the message is a lie. No matter. The idea is to Get Bush, even at the cost of the troops in Iraq.

It was a mistake to vote for this war in 2002. I take responsibility for that mistake. It has been hard to say these words because those who didn't make a mistake -- the men and women of our armed forces and their families -- have performed heroically and paid a dear price.

Bullshit, John. Your Iraq vote was the only principled vote you ever cast in the Senate and it was based on what was known at the time, not only in this country, but other countries like France, Germany, Russia and China; obvious lackeys of American Imperialism, I'm sure. Everyone was on the same page, John, and you know it. By saying otherwise, like many of those in your party, you are flat out lying.

No WMDs, huh? So what the hell is this? I guess Saddam was using 1.7 metric tons of enriched uranium to heat his prisons, right? Or how about this? Nope. Absolutely no reason to believe that Saddam was WMD free. Look, if you go around invading countries, using poison gas, importing uranium and the means to enrich it, don't you think it's reasonable to assume that you have someone out there who's - at the very least - running with scissors?

Anyway, the rest of Edward's screed is the usual litany of Bush Lied!, We've Lost Our Global Goodwill (sob), Democracy In Iraq Is Not Worth The Price And It's Not Really Our Kind Of Democracy Anyway So Let's "Redeploy" The Troops Home! Oh, And Don't Forget HALIBURTON! His recommendations consist of training Iraqis to take charge of their own defense and such. You know. Things we're already doing without the esteemed former senator's assistance.

The Bush Administration has plenty to answer for in the conduct of this war, but it is a war that is being won as each day progresses. John Edwards lies in the service of rewriting history for his political advancement are what I've come to expect from his party.

Needs Some Work, I Think...

Ok, so I just noticed that the iTunes Music Store has a new feature called "Just For You," which seems to be based on the Amazon recomendations feature.

However...

How do they figure that because I purchased Angola Prisoner's Blues, I would want The Joshua Tree, by U2?

Or that I downloaded The Collected Works, by blotto and therefore would be interested in Don't Believe The Truth from Oasis?

I dunno. I think it needs some work.

What's Not Good: TJ Edition

What's not good? Right now, just about everything related to Thomas Jefferson and Monticello. It all has to do with stuff that I can't relate here, but The Lady is not a very happy camper this evening. In fact, I'd venture to say that she's more than a little pissed off at a certain Foundation that does not seem to appreciate what she has to offer them.

So.

Screw 'em. Time to move on. Two years of asshole tourists and screaming babies and getting slapped in the face is enough.

On the plus side, The Lady has a clear slate for the holidays, so I'm very psyched.

Kofi and the Internet

Kofi Annan has an OpEd in today's Washington Post which seeks to reassure people like me that the UN has absolutely no designs on control of the Internet. Besides being a masterful piece of bureaucratic doublespeak, it leaves me trying to figure out what the hell he's trying to say.

On the one hand, we have:

One mistaken notion is that the United Nations wants to "take over," police or otherwise control the Internet. Nothing could be farther from the truth.

And in the very next sentence we get:

The United Nations wants only to ensure the Internet's global reach, and that effort is at the heart of this summit.

Kerthump. In a singe, small paragraph, Kofi, or rather Kofi's ghostwriter, manages to distill the the essence of the UN's ineffectiveness in matters such as this.

Later:

The United States deserves our thanks for having developed the Internet and made it available to the world. For historical reasons, the United States has the ultimate authority over some of the Internet's core resources. It is an authority that many say should be shared with the international community. The United States, which has exercised its oversight responsibilities fairly and honorably, recognizes that other governments have legitimate public policy and sovereignty concerns, and that efforts to make the governance arrangements more international should continue.

One of the reasons the Internet works is that it is a uniquely American institution. Kofi seems to think that something that works as brilliantly as the Internet is in need of change. Yet, he can't quite seem to put into words exactly what needs to be changed and how he wants to go about it, other than setting up yet another UN works project for underused and overpaid bureaucrats, also known as a World Summit or Working Group or Forum. That there are governments out there "concerned" with US control of the Internet is understandable. After all, it was designed originally by the Defense Department as a means to preserve military communications in the event of a nuclear decapitation strike. We control the core of the 'Net, therefore we can shut it off. Not that we would do so. As an American, I want control over that technology. Sure, I'll share the 'Net - I can play nice - but I want to be able to flip the switch when some idiot government out there decides to get a little rambunctious with my toy. And the very fact of that matter drives other governments nuts and therefore Kofi is firing off further bits of snarky crap like this:

Everyone acknowledges the need for more international participation in discussions of Internet governance. The disagreement is over how to achieve it. So let's set aside fears of U.N. "designs" on the Internet. Much as some would like to open up another front of attack on the United Nations, this dog of an argument won't bark. I urge all stakeholders to come to Tunis ready to bridge the digital divide and ready to build an open, inclusive information society that enriches and empowers all people.

When a UN Secretary General starts using American colloquialisms to denigrate concerns over the UN being in control of something like the Internet, then you know there's trouble ahead.

How about this little American saying, Kofi: If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

Sultan Charles ibn Windsor

When I read stuff like this, I really understand why my ancestors left England:

It is understood that Prince Charles did not - and does not - believe that the actions of 19 hijackers should tarnish the reputation of hundreds of millions of law-abiding Muslims around the world.

Khalid Mahmood, the Labour MP for Birmingham Perry Bar, was also at the meeting at St James's Palace. "His criticism of America was a general one of the Americans not having the appreciation we have for Islam and its culture," he said.

I'd say we have more than enough appreciation for Islam and it's culture after 9/11, Afganistan and Iraq. I'm all for religious tolerance and cultural understanding, especially towards those who do not wish me dead either because of my religion or lack thereof. I don't think the problem is our lack of understanding towards Islam. I think the problem is that Islam does not appreciate our culture and pretty much will not tolerate the presence of other religions in it's midst.

The Prince also spoke of his sympathy for America after the terrorist attacks that claimed the lives of almost 3,000 people.

Gosh, your Highness. That's damn white of you to say so. I'm sure the Israelis will have your sympathy when a nuclear armed Iran tries to wipe them off the map, right? Because it's all about peace, love and understanding.

Remember, this man is going to be the next King of England. I truly pity the British. They've all but joined the new Caliphate.

UPDATE: More here. And this from a commentor at Captain's Quarters:

England, since the conquest, hath known some few good monarchs, but groaned beneath a much larger number of bad ones, yet no man in his senses can say that their claim under William the Conqueror is a very honorable one. A French bastard landing with an armed banditti, and establishing himself king of England against the consent of the natives, is in plain terms a very paltry rascally original. It certainly hath no divinity in it. However, it is needless to spend much time in exposing the folly of hereditary right, if there are any so weak as to believe it, let them promiscuously worship the ass and lion, and welcome. I shall neither copy their humility, nor disturb their devotion.

Thomas Paine
Of Monarchy and Hereditary Succession
Common Sense  1776

What's Not Good

Going into work on your day off because there's no one else around to do the job for various reasons to do a job that you normally don't do based on continuous reassurances that everything will be fine and that everything is taken care of. I volunteered for the good of all.

Uh huh. Right.

And then everything goes wrong from the moment you walk in and what should have been a pretty laid back 8 hour day ("Oh, bring a book so you won't be bored!") turns into a 10 - 12 hour hell fest.

Of which I'm still in the midst of even as we speak.

And to top it off, there's a barbershop quartet outside the door of the Inn participating in the annual Spirit Walk.

And they are irritating me.

I'm still waiting on late check-ins because there is only room for one set of keys in our after hours lockbox and all the rooms are late. The Innkeeper is still an hour out of C'ville on her way back from NC.

Breakfast was utter chaos. Everyone down at once and wanting to check out at the same time. And the elderly Israeli couple could not understand that I do not deliver a bill for their stay to their room.

Did I mention that I was getting irritated by the barbershop quartet? They're at it again.

I'm Doomed...

Why. Does. Apple. Keep. Doing. This. To. Me?

It's the new iPod. 30 or 60 gig. White or black. In addition to everything else, it plays video on it's 2.5 inch color screen. The 60 gig version is 10% smaller than my 4th gen 20 gig. I thought that the Nano was pretty cool, but I've never been able to get over the pricing. A 4 gig Nano is $249.00. A 30 gig iPod is $299.00. The 60 gig clocks in at $399.00.

I want one.

UPDATE: Of course, James Lileks says it better:

You know what it’s like to have the Kool-Aid not only going in via feeding tube and IV, but shot through a catheter at volumes normally associated with pressure-washers?

It Bogles The Mind

Yesterday, I was having a little fun with Bono getting a Nobel Peace Prize, never suspecting that the eventual winner would turn into an exercise in Orwellian Newspeak:

OSLO, Norway -- The International Atomic Energy Agency and its chief, Mohamed ElBaradei, have won the 2005 Nobel Peace Prize and will share the world's most prestigious prize.

The prize, announced Friday, went to the two "for their efforts to prevent nuclear energy from being used for military purposes and to ensure that nuclear energy for peaceful purposes is used in the safest possible way."

Wow. North Korea. Iran. Who knows who else? The Nobel committee makes my brain melt when it goes and does this. I would have taken a dozen Bonos in stride compared to this joke of a Peace Prize.

The Rolling Stones

The Rolling Stones have hit Charlottesville, where they are playing UVA's Scott Stadium this evening.

The Lady and I decided to sit this one out. Cheapest tickets were $99.00 (why not just round it up, guys?), and I didn't like the idea of shelling out that kind of money to watch Mick and the boys on the Scott Stadium Jumbotron. I'll wait for the DVD.

And it's raining. I mean, it's really coming down. We've been having a drought for most of the summer and early fall, and the Stones arrive and we're getting the deluge. It could turn out being a real mess this evening.

The Inn is completely booked. It was booked withing 20 minutes of the tickets going on sale. So, I get to look forward to going in to feed breakfast to a bunch of hung over and mind warped concert goers.

Huzzah!

UPDATE: Wow! Rain and bomb threats! The fun just never ends in C'ville!

As Bono Proceeds With His Plans For World Domination...

Can his ego contain this?

U2 frontman Bono and singer/activist Bob Geldof are among the favorites to win the 2005 Nobel Peace Prize. Bono and Geldof are favored by United Kingdom bookmakers and third on the Australian bookies' list with 7-1 odds, according to published reports. The two musicians are nominated for their work to relieve poverty and hunger in Africa, including the organization of this year's massive series of Live 8 concerts. The Nobel Peace Prize is selected in secret by a five-person committee and will be announced tomorrow.

If Bono and Sir Bob get the Peace Prize, then Bono's Path to World Domination will be swept clear of resistance. He will be unstoppable as we mere mortals are mesmerized by the light emanating from his perfect being. Sir Bob, on the other hand returns to being merely a pawn used to further Bono's Great Game.

U2 begins a five-night stand at Madison Square Garden tomorrow.

First he takes Manhattan...

Quote Of The Day

Richard Brookhiser on the Harriet Miers SCOTUS nomination:

It's not as bad as Caligula putting his horse in the Senate.

Neighbors

As long as I'm in a good mood politically, I may as well say that this really cheered me up. The Benifer is coming to my neck of the woods, and he's got ambitions.

Folks who have run into him in C'ville say he seems nice enough. Fine. Cool. As long as he doesn't sprout wings, pull out a sword and start wreaking vengeance on humanity over a dogmatic technicality. Or something like that.

That is SO 18th Century!

Bummer. I have freakin' gout. Well it's nice to know what it is that's been giving me so much pain in the joint of my left big toe.

On the other hand, Vicodin rocks.

Enough Already. Please.

Look. Can we agree that there are enough things in the DC area named after Ronald Reagan? Is naming 16th Street Ronald Reagan Boulevard really that necessary? Other than to show folks around the nation what a shallow little grandstanding prick a congressman from south Texas can be?

Once you understand the concept of the naming of streets in DC, it's one of the easiest cities to navigate. L'Enfant designed DC with north/south streets numbered, east/west streets alphabetized and diagonal streets named for states. Add to that the feature that the original DC was a big square of land with the points aligned to the compass, so you could divide the city into directional quadrants. It's a good system. Why screw with it?

Four little words: Avenue of the Americas. One of the truly great laughingstocks of city planning.

Wish I'd Said That...

Stephen Green over at Vodkapundit wraps it all up in a nice, neat package:

Abortion.  I support a woman's right to choose, for whatever reason, right up until the natural viability of the fetus. That's a variable, but generally around the start of the third trimester. After that point, I am still pro-choice, but only if the mother's life or health is endangered. End of rant, end of debate. You will not change my mind, so don't even try.

Gun Control. "Gun control" means having the skill required to put steel on target. The Founders wanted an armed populous, and they got one. Cool. My position, naturally, extends to issues like must-issue laws for concealed weapons permits. End of rant, end of debate. You will not change my mind, so don't even try.

Evolution.  Evolution is a fact – species change over time.  The fossil record demonstrates this beyond debate.  Evolutionary theories attempt to explain how the fact of evolution occurs. Like all theories, they are subject to scrutiny, falsification, and peer review. No "theory" requiring a god or invisible intelligence or burning sage or nineteen-teated mythical bear can be falsified – and is therefore not science. It also therefore has no place in a science class. End of rant, end of debate. You will not change my mind, so don't even try.

Eight ball in the corner pocket.

(tip 'o' the hat: Daily Pundit)

Hot

According to my little weather station, it's 101.5°F outside at 80% humidity. That's in the shade, mind you. Near a river. Earlier, I was buying various liquids at the grocery, where they had just finished repaving the parking lot. The lot was sticky. Everyone was leaving tire tracks. They're going to have to repave the repaving.

I'm at home now, and I'm cranking down electricity like a smack starved Lexington Avenue junkie, circa 1965. Because I will stay cool. Damn the strip mining in West Virginia and all the coal trains rumbling through S'ville in the middle of the night on the way to the power plant. Do I wand a nuke plant in Fluvana County? You bet! Bring it on, as long as I'm getting my AC. I've got Red Stripe and Kirin Ichiban in the fridge. I'm not cooking anything that does not require a microwave. The Lady is up on the mountain, and I'm sure it's hot up there, too. She's got everything she needs for G&Ts.

We're set.

Did You Know...

...that Lee Harvey Oswald was not killed by Jack Ruby? Yeah! No, that was a double that Ruby shot! And besides, Oswald didn't shoot Kennedy! That was LBJ, the CIA and the Military Industrial Complex that waxed ole Jack! But, anyway. See, Oswald went to Vietnam where he worked for the CIA. The CIA trained him to fly planes, see? Well, Oswald sorta globetrotted for years, doing odd jobs for the Company and living the good life. Back in the 80's, he ended up in Afghanistan, where he hooked up with - You seeing where this is going? - Osama Bin Laden! Yeah! Way! Osama and Oswald hung out fighting the Russians and shit and eventually Oswald converted to Islam and took the name Abu Mohammed! Really! So, then Osama turns to Abu and says, "Hey, brother! I need someone to train some brothers to fly airplanes into tall buildings out in the Dar al-Harb. You interested?" Oswald is like, "For sure, brother!" You see where this is going, dude?

Oliver Stone is going to direct a 9/11 movie. I'm not sure this is such a hot idea, but I'm not really suprised that it's going to happen. There's a serious disconnect between the powers that be in Hollywood and the rest of the country. Having Oliver Stone helm this project will be like throwing red meat to tigers. But you know? In the end it's going to make a bundle. Bill Quick and Roger L. Simon have more on this.

(tip 'o' the hat: Little Green Footballs)

Idiot Teacher

In addition to the story below, The Lady had another story. It was not as serious, but it was tragic in its own way. Anyway, I'll turn Chef Mojo over to The Lady and let her tell the story:

Another one of the historical interpreters (tour guides) had a story to tell regarding a teacher/chaperone on one of his tours yesterday morning.  A teacher with a group of students asked this guide whether Jefferson knew Lincoln.  She said that since there are copies of the Declaration of Independence in the house, was Jefferson a fan of Lincoln?  The guide was perplexed, and asked what she meant.  She said, well, Lincoln wrote the Declaration of Independence, and there are copies of the Declaration here, so did Jefferson know Lincoln?  The guide responded, ever so diplomatically, that Lincoln was born after Jefferson had died, and that it was Jefferson who wrote the Declaration of Independence.  The teacher replied, "Well, I'm a science teacher, so I don't need to know things like that."

What can you say after hearing a story like that?  And this is hardly the first time that we guides have heard things like this coming from schoolteachers and the public in general.  I really should be creating  a "Wall of Shame," a list of stupid questions and comments overheard at Monticello.  I did that for exam essay questions while teaching at the University of Maryland, College Park.  Of course, at Monticello, with close to 500,000 visitors a year, keeping track of the many stupid mutterings would be an impossible task.

Tragedy on the Mountain

Yesterday, The Lady and I got home at about the same time. We settled down in the kitchen with our first cocktails of the evening and shared the day's events. I went first; pretty uneventful. No problems.

The Lady, on the other hand, had a couple of stories, one of them downright tragic, from our point of view. To refresh, The Lady, among other things, works at Monticello, Thomas Jefferson's home. We refer to it as "the Mountain."

On one of the tours up on the Mountain today, a teenage girl fainted. This is a pretty common occurrence, especially in the summer, and tends to happen mostly to teenage girls. This fainting spell had disastrous consequences, however.

In the House on the tour, one passes from Jefferson's Book Room to his bedroom by going past his Cabinet, or office. In this office are a number of fascinating objects, many of them original to Jefferson. One of the neatest things there is a revolving book stand, probably designed by Jefferson and built at the Monticello joinery by a slave, possibly John Hemings. It's an ingenious, yet simple device. This is what it looks like:

The one in the picture is actually a repro available through the Monticello gift shop. As you can see, it allows a prolific reader to keep a number of open books close at hand.

So, this girl faints, pitches headlong into the Cabinet, hitting Jefferson's desk, which sends the book stand flying into the air. It lands with a crash on the floor, breaking.

The Lady is not sure of the extent of the damage to this priceless historical object, but any damage cannot be good.

Both The Lady and I were horrified by this. It really bought home how easily things like this can happen up at Monticello. Monticello is a very open place; there are only ropes to keep you out of spaces which the Foundation does not want the general public to have access to. Granted, a number of the spaces are alarmed, but what good is that? By the time anyone can respond to the alarm, the damage is done. And this was an accident (although The Lady and I are really down on teenage girls starving themselves into fainting spells at this point in time...). What if some nut job decides to sneak a hammer into the house and go after the Houdon bust of Jefferson, valued at $15 million? There is really nothing to stop such a person, and that really worries me. There are a large number of historically significant objects at Monticello, many of them within arm's reach. The famous Gilbert Stuart portrait of Jefferson (co-owned by Monticello and the National Portrait Gallery) is displayed in a way that if you lean over to look at it, it's only a few feet away. This is just not right. I believe the original objects should be in a museum environment built somewhere on the Mountain and the House should be stocked with very good reproductions. Why take the risk of having priceless, historical and irreplaceable objects within reach of the public? Especially a modern public with little or no appreciation of the significance of what they are viewing.

Sieve

Sweet Jesus. I feel so much more secure knowing that the Border Patrol is on the case!

BOSTON (AP) -- On April 25, Gregory Despres arrived at the U.S.-Canadian border crossing at Calais, Maine, carrying a homemade sword, a hatchet, a knife, brass knuckles and a chain saw stained with what appeared to be blood. U.S. customs agents confiscated the weapons and fingerprinted Despres.

Then they let him into the United States.

The following day, a gruesome scene was discovered in Despres' hometown of Minto, New Brunswick: The decapitated body of a 74-year-old country musician named Frederick Fulton was found on his kitchen floor. The man's head was in a pillow case under a kitchen table. His common-law wife was discovered stabbed to death in a bedroom.

Read the whole thing. The Border Patrol guys make a few fair points, but in the end, they let this bull-necked freak

back into the United States. He looks like the love child of Charles Manson and Henry Rollins, for crissakes. It sends shivers up and down my spine just looking at those eyes..

Those Of You Who Drink Decaf...

...and order it in restaurants, do me a favor, willya? Order more than one, ok? After all, the waitress probably had to brew a whole pot so you could have that one cup of decaf. I mean, why not have more? It's not like another cup is going to keep you up all night.

So, go ahead! Have another! Live dangerously, I say!

Whatever...

Live 8.

Sorry, but this is just going to seem tacky by comparison to LiveAid. I mean, what the hell.

Here's Sir Bob:

The G8 leaders have it within their power to alter history. They will only have the will to do so if millions of people show them that enough is enough. We understand precisely what must be done to free the weak, the hungry and the sick from the awful, needless condition of their lives. Now is the time to do it. This isn't about charity, it's about justice."

Right. Don't get me wrong. I'm actually for debt forgiveness in the Third World. But I'm also for backing it up with popping a cap into the skulls of corrupt Third World dictators and their legions of corrupt bureaucrats who took all that cash we threw at their countries and used it in some not so charitable ways. When you're a corrupt Third World dicatator spending the World Bank's loans on secret police units, weapons, unstable political systems, bribes and lining your numbered Swiss bank account with the big bucks, there's just not a whole hell of a lot left over for developement, food and medicine, is there?

We understand precisely what must be done to free the weak, the hungry and the sick from the awful, needless condition of their lives.

Actually, Sir Bob, I don't think you, or anybody for that matter, has a fucking clue.

So, y'all have fun on July 2nd. And think of Sudan. And Burma. And Somalia. And Zimbabwe. Think about how much better these countries will be with debt forgiveness.