"My beloved Princess, you eat meat. Minks are vicious carnivores and the ones used for fur are raised for no other purpose - not trapped. They are well treated, then killed humanely. If your ancestors had not killed for meat and fur as the last glaciation retreated, you would not be here. Illogical sentiment leads to the sort of tragedy you find in India and Bangladesh."
"Newt knows that before he throws his giant hat into the ring, he has to explain his past positions - specifically, why those positions were so often on top of women who weren't his wife." (Stephen Colbert)
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Iowa roughed little Newtie up pretty good. He better get used to it.
Oh, Blogger! Your formatting is unbelievably FUBAR this afternoon. I have to limit myself to a single paragraph to avoid your incompetency.
Liz and I are cheering for this guy - Paul McDonald on American Idol. There is a lot of talent out there this time around, but Paul has a great voice and even some musical skills - he plays guitar!
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Of course, the fact that we are friends with his aunt and uncle also somewhat influences our choice. A bit. Just a bit. But he really is an outstanding contestant.
One of my FaceBook friends has 775 friends. Jason calls such people FaceBook Whores, and I think that's an apropos term, but that's not my point tonight.
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Said friend does nothing but play games on FaceBook. Okay, games aren't my shtick, but I'm cool with that. If that's what you use FB for, more power to ya.
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No, the real head-scratcher are those 774 other friends. Not one of them ever leaves a post on my friend's wall. Do any of them understand the concept of "social networking"? Guess not. But I find it incredible that ALL of them miss the point of FB.
Liz and I will be making a trip over to the Mesa Public Library tomorrow after work, to sign the "Recall Russell Pearce" petition. Many thanks to the Arizona Democratic Party for the heads-up that they will be set up there until 7:00 PM tomorrow night. I doubt we can bring his highness down, but at least we'll try.
It takes about 2 hours, and is the most interactive and kewlest parade you will ever see. This will be, IIRC, our fourth parade.
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Afterwards, take in the Gay Pride Festival at the park on Indian School & 3rd Street (the terminus of the parade). The festival runs all day Saturday and Sunday, so if you're "sunned out" after the parade, go home, get refreshed, and come back later. 
Mostly because it's the same theme in both. I swear the Tea-Baggers deliberately misspell words cuz they know we'll post their idiocy all over the 'Net. Yeah, they come off looking like morons, but they get free publicity.
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It occurs to me that we'd have a lot more options in Libya if we weren't already illegally and immorally occupying two other Muslim countries. I'm happy the way Obama has handled this current crisis so far - consult beforehand both with our allies in Europe AND the Arab League. But committing US ground troops is frankly out of the question. And this greatly increases the odds of Libya devolving into a bloody stalemate. Neither the rebels nor Ghadhafi being strong enough to vanquish the other side.
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So, thanks again, Dubnutz. You, with your phony "evidence" justifying the invasion of Iraq. You, with absolutely no idea what to do once you brought Saddam down. You, who have us bogged down in Afghanistan - can't stay, can't go home.
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Ah, but that's what happens when we elect an idiot. Twice.
Wilfred Owen. Born 18 March 1893; died 04 November 1918. One of the last casualties of World War One. A dedicated soldier; probably gay long before gayness was acceptable; and (most notably) a fantastic poet who employed something kewl called "consonantal end rhymes" in his poetry and bravely wrote about the horrors of war.
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My review of one of his books of poetry is found here. The Wikipedia article about this fascinating hero is found here. All of his poetry was published posthumously.
March 14 is National Pi Day (because pi = 3.14...), a holiday revered throughout all of geekdom. Albert Einstein was also born this day, but what did he ever accomplish?
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And on the horizon - National Tau Day on June 28 (2x pi) and Pi Approximation Day on 22 July (because in fractions, pi is roughly 22/7). And National Mole Day, but that isn't until October 23.
The winner was Myrna Foster, who thoroughly deserved first place; although in something like this, there are no losers. Last year's winner, Dr. Madeleine Paschal, can be seen in the pink dress in photo above, and she finished First Runner-Up in the national competition.
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It seems to me that in a pageant like this, the competitiveness is downplayed, with all of the ladies encouraging and pulling for each other. They seemed to be enjoying simply the accomplishment of being in front of an audience and epitomizing beauty, grace, and elegance. Congratulations, not only to Myrna, but to each of the other entrants as well.
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This was the second year we attended this affair. It was, as always, superbly staged by Jasel's mom, Marilyn Joyce. Liz and I had a ball.
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This was also the first time I got to use my new, "Canon Rebel"camera, with its telephoto lens and its uber-powerful flash, in a big, indoor auditorium. We had fantastic seats, and the flash and telephoto really made a difference from last year, when I only had my dinky digital camera. I took 153 pics, over the course of about 2½ hours, and which, I discovered, almost completely drained the two AAA batteries in the flash.
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We will almost certainly be making this an annual event. Anyone who wants to go with us to the 2012 pageant is more than welcome.
I bought this album for $2 at the used-record shop a while back, and converted it this past week. Leon Russell's career has been revived by his recent album- and tour-collaboration with Elton John, but back in the day (early 70's), he put out some pretty good music in his own right.
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"Best of Leon" (1976; Shelter Recording Co.) has all his early hits. Most rock, but there are a couple ballads too. Track 12 was pretty scratchy, but the rest of the LP was in great shape.
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Track List (my favorites in pink) :
This is what happens when you read one too many Uncle John's Bathroom Reader articles.
I was in the top academic class in High School. About 85% of our class were voted into the National Honor Society.
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You guessed it. I was in the 15%. My teachers apparently felt I had a crappy attitude. WTF did they know? ;-)
Onomatopeia. What an awesome word! Right up there with Brouhaha and Susurration.
You had lived a rough life. You had at least four other owners, one of which, early on, abused you to where you were now scared of all humans. More recently, you had lost a fight to see who was the alpha-female, and it had cost you an eye. Now, you were confined to a small cage 23 hours each day, for your own protection.
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I hemmed and hawed and gave my very logical arguments to Liz as to why we shouldn't take you in. She listened and smiled, and nodded her head, then did what she had done with each of our other four dogs - just went out and got them. And one afternoon, I came home, opened the door, and there in the hall you were.
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You came as advertised. You fled from us humans. At night you hid somewhere, while Huxley and Jynx slept with us on the bed. But that only lasted about a week. You warmed your way onto the bed, under the covers, and into our hearts.
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Huxley and Mr, Jynx accepted you as one of the group. You quickly learned how to use the doggy door and readily went on our twice-a-day walks, even though your short, Pekinese legs meant you had to jog to keep pace. And before I knew it, you had become Daddy's Little Princess.
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And a princess you truly were. Our other dogs would jump down off the bed, but not you. If we weren't in the bedroom, you woofed for us to come get you down. If you had to get down in the middle of the night to go potty, you'd stomp on my feet until I woke up and put you down. If you thought Momma was a bit tardy in getting you your supper, you'd woof at her. And if your food was too hot or too cold, you wouldn't eat it until she made it "just right".
Time flew by - we had you 5 years I think. And the day came when the two-a-day walks/jogs became too much for you. So when the leashes came out, you'd retire to the bedroom or backyard. That was to let us know you'd be skipping the constitutional. But always when we got back, you were there to greet us at the door and to remind Liz by wagging your tail that it was "treat time".
This is today's B.C. It's bad enough that I don't fully understand the humor (is she lying about how many strokes it took her to get to the green?). But what is even more mysterious is how the hole itself magically shifts over closer to Curls between the first panel and the last.
Tolstoy rockz! But I still have no inclination to read any of his 800-page works. Particularly, War And Peace.
