The revolution will have a sinus infection

I’m not big on conspiracy theories, but it seems pretty much undeniable that the extremely rich are getting extremelyer rich, while the not-extremely-rich are getting, uh, poorer. Also, the number of uninsured people is getting higher and higher, and all Dear Leader can think to say is that people can always go to an emergency room.

We are moving towards a system (if we’re not already there) where the wealthy and powerful elite get all the health care they need while the poor and wretched are forced to fend for themselves in the emergency rooms of the world.

Perhaps when Bush and his cohorts begin to relaize that the cooks and busboys are sneezing in their foie gras because they can’t get any treatment for their colds and flus, then there will be change.

Or not. Perhaps this is all predicated on the idea that the sick will not be able to revolt against the system because they need bed rest.

Full disclosure: I have a PPO plan and still entertain dreams of actually having enough money someday to benefit from the Bush tax cuts. This still pisses me off.


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I see ya won first prize!

By special request, lyrics to the greatest song about freeballin’ Scotsmen ever written:

Well a Scotsman clad in kilt left a bar on evening fair
And one could tell by how we walked that he drunk more than his share
He fumbled round until he could no longer keep his feet
Then he stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
He stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street

About that time two young and lovely girls just happend by
And one says to the other with a twinkle in her eye
See yon sleeping Scotsman so strong and handsome built
I wonder if it’s true what they don’t wear beneath the kilt
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
I wonder if it’s true what they don’t wear beneath the kilt

They crept up on that sleeping Scotsman quiet as could be
Lifted up his kilt about an inch so they could see
And there behold, for them to see, beneath his Scottish skirt
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth

They marveled for a moment, then one said we must be gone
Let’s leave a present for our friend, before we move along
As a gift they left a blue silk ribbon, tied into a bow
Around the bonnie star, the Scots kilt did lift and show
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
Around the bonnie star, the Scots kilt did lift and show

Now the Scotsman woke to nature’s call and stumbled towards a tree
Behind a bush, he lift his kilt and gawks at what he sees
And in a startled voice he says to what’s before his eyes.
O lad I don’t know where you been but I see you won first prize
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
O lad I don’t know where you been but I see you won first prize[!]

 

A cappella with harmony available.

And don’t forget, real men wear kilts.


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Be careful what you wish for

Jill at Brilliant at Breakfast:

The weaselly Democrats are too fucking frightened to take on this lunatic [Bush], even if it means that thousands more American families receive the knock on the door that no one wants to hear. No price in American lives is too much to pay for them to keep their jobs and not have to expend the effort to explain to the Fox Noisebots in their districts what’s really going on. God knows the Republicans won’t do it; they’re too busy getting off — and making money — off of the war effort.

That leaves the military. We know that Congress won’t live up to its Constitutional duty to remove this guy from office before he can do any more harm to the Constitution and to our country. We are now left with only the hope that the military will rise up and say “Enough.”

A military coup — that’s what it’s come to, folks. Because that’s the only thing that will rescue us form the clutches of this monster.

A few minutes later, she posts the ominous news that “[m]embers of the 1st Battalion 265 Air Defense Artillery have mobilized and are on a plane headed first to Ft. Bliss, then for federal active duty in the capital region.” Although it’s probably nothing, I am a bit concerned about calls for a military coup of some sort. They don’t always go well.

Seriously, though, I have generally figured that if anyone has the capability to call Bush on his bullshit, it is the military leaders. I will never advocate any sort of military coup, just based on knowledge of history, but it may not come to that. (Fred Kaplan did offer an interesting argument last year that “a military coup in this country right now would probably have a moderating influence.”) The U.S. may just run out of combat-ready troops soon, anyway, which presumably would force the civilian leadership to pay more attention to the military leadership.


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Thank you, Senator Craig

Just when I thought all the news this week was going to be dour political crap, here comes yet another not-so-shockingly pervy Republican to dominate the headlines (but, really, he’s not gay. I honestly don’t care if he is or not.)

To be clear: I feel no sympathy for this guy’s plight at all. People who make a career out of trying to control other people’s lives behind closed doors generally don’t get my sympathy. But, really, what exactly did he do that was illegal? (h/t to Volkh Conspiracy)

It’s hard to work up much sympathy for Sen. Larry Craig (R-Idaho). He had a perfect legislative score from traditional-values groups, a zero rating from gay civil-rights groups, supported the Federal Marriage Amendment, and refused even to commit to non-discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation in hiring for his own Senate staff. But what exactly was criminal about his conduct in that Minneapolis airport bathroom?

From the arrest report, here’s what Craig allegedly did: (1) put a duffel bag at the front of his stall; (2) peered through a crack into an adjoining stall; (3) tapped his foot; (4) moved his shoe over until it touched an officer’s; and (4) ran his fingers along the underside of the stall divider. That’s it.

Given the long history of police fabrication of evidence and entrapment of gay men in these sting operations, there should be no presumption that the officer’s version of events is correct. But assuming for the sake of argument that Craig did everything the officer alleged, how was it the basis for a criminal charge that could get him a $1,000 fine and/or ten days in jail?

I don’t get it–what exactly was the crime here? Sure it was lacking in panache (I think that word fits here), but how exactly is that a crime? If he’d run something other than his fingers along the stall divider, sure, but give me a break. The officer should have said thanks but no thanks and marveled at how effective his shoes must be at getting dudes’ attention. No harm done.

Honestly, my libertarian concerns here even seem to trump my Schadenfreude over the poor Senator.

Anyway, thanks for taking my mind off things for a bit.

UPDATE – Lawyers, Guns & Money has some good commentary & links.

UPDATE II – From Whiskey Fire, sweet, sweet hypocrisy. And insanity.


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A little more on Sir Shits-a-Lot

First off, thanks to Mikey for his contribution to my earlier Ted Nugent post.

I also have to share these thoughts from Gordon at Alternate Brain:

I’m forced by way of disclaimer to say that I used to kind of like Ted Nugent. I knew he was a wingnut, but I liked his stand on the 2d Amendment and the fact that he eats what he kills. I don’t do it myself, but I think hunting is fine.

That said, fuck him.

Newshounds has the story (via the Rutland Herald) of how Sir Shits-a-Lot repeatedly crapped himself to avoid service:

(Nugent claims) that 30 days before his Draft Board Physical, he stopped all forms of personal hygiene. The last 10 days he ingested nothing but junk food and Pepsi, and a week before his physical, he stopped using the bathroom altogether, virtually living inside his pants caked with excrement and urine. That spectacle won Nugent a deferment.

It’s probably worth a quick review of what Herr Nugent said and did.

I concur: fuck him.


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Drunken terrorist joggers, oh my!

I haven’t posted all week, partly because I’ve been really busy, partly because I’ve actually been in a good mood, and partly because my daily scan of the liberal pinko blogosphere hasn’t yielded much to raise my ire.

Until now.

I will take the liberty of posting the sordid tale in its entirety:

NEW HAVEN, Conn. — Two people who sprinkled flour in a parking lot to mark a trail for their offbeat running club inadvertently caused a bioterrorism scare and now face a felony charge.

The sprinkled powder forced hundreds to evacuate an IKEA furniture store Thursday.

New Haven ophthalmologist Daniel Salchow, 36, and his sister, Dorothee, 31, who is visiting from Hamburg, Germany, were both charged with first-degree breach of peace, a felony.

The siblings set off the scare while organizing a run for a local chapter of the Hash House Harriers, a worldwide group that bills itself as a “drinking club with a running problem.”

“Hares” are given the task of marking a trail to direct runners, throwing in some dead ends and forks as challenges. On Thursday, the Salchows decided to route runners through the massive IKEA parking lot.

Police fielded a call just before 5 p.m. that someone was sprinkling powder on the ground. The store was evacuated and remained closed the rest of the night. The incident prompted a massive response from police in New Haven and surrounding towns.

Daniel Salchow biked back to IKEA when he heard there was a problem and told officers the powder was just harmless flour, which he said he and his sister have sprinkled everywhere from New York to California without incident.

“Not in my wildest dreams did I ever anticipate anything like that,” he said.

Mayoral spokeswoman Jessica Mayorga said the city plans to seek restitution from the Salchows, who are due in court Sept. 14.

“You see powder connected by arrows and chalk, you never know,” she said. “It could be a terrorist, it could be something more serious. We’re thankful it wasn’t, but there were a lot of resources that went into figuring that out.”

Have we as a society become so fucking paranoid that the first thing you think of when you see “powder connected by arrows and chalk” is that it just must be terrorist-related? I’m willing to give the average terrorist the benefit of the doubt and presuppose that he would not want to draw lines on the ground directing everyone to his bioterror materials. Of course, I’m not a terrorist, so what the hell do I know?

I am also flummoxed by the comment “It could be a terrorist, it could be something more serious.” What, uh, exactly would be more serious than a terrorist???

Besides, if you’ve ever been to a Hasher party (which I have), you would know that they are generally far too drunk to be a danger to anyone in a GWOT sense.

I suppose we should thank Karl Rove and his ilk for making everyone so damned paranoid that I am afraid to use baking soda in my own fridge anymore for fear the maintenance guy will call Homeland Security on me.


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Haiku to Celis

There is a backstory here. See below.

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Sitting on my porch
Since early spring, 2000.
Why are you still here?

Rancid, rancid beer.
Who will ever drink you now?
Stupid law students?

Your box is rotted,
Your brewery has closed down,
Yet still you live on.

Farewell, sweet Celis!
I fear I hardly knew your
Sweet, fruity flavor.

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Backstory: In the spring of 2000, during my first year of law school, I attended an after party for the law school theater group, Assault & Flattery, at a house on Avenue G in Austin’s Hyde Park neighborhood (lovingly nicknamed “the G-Spot“). Our theater production was generously sponsored by Celis, the then-Austin-based brewery, which provided innumerable cases of its many varieties of beer for our drunken enjoyment. Among these varieties was Celis Raspberry, which to this day I can still honestly say I have never tasted.

Fast forward to the late summer of 2001. Thanks to good connections and just the right amount of popularity, the singular honor of living at the G-Spot has passed to me and a friend, who took occupancy in August of that year. We were astounded to discover that a single case of Celis Raspberry had survived not only the many Assault & Flattery and other G-Spot parties, but was in fact still sitting on the back porch, having endured two Texas summers and one winter. Needless to say, we left the case undisturbed in honor of the fact that, uh, it was there.

At some point, during a party hosted for idiotic drunken first-year students, somebody got a mind to actually drink some of the beers in the obviously-rotting-and-decaying cardboard box full of above-room-temperature beer. I only wish I could have seen what happened to that person.

We moved out of the G-Spot in August 2002, after the bar exam. I can only hope that the Celis case has found happiness somewhere. Here’s to you, my skunky pal.


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Hmmm…does this mean someone can take out a mortgage on their implants?

I haven’t actually read this article about “plastic surgery loans,” so I don’t know all the details of the financing options. My question is this: if you default on the loan, can the bank repo your new breasts?

Seriously, think about it.


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Hey, hey, Rudy G, you’re no firefighter, you’re a damn Yankee!

Okay, that was my lame attempt to come up with a protest cheer. This was after reading this bemusing piece on how Rudy G spent about twice as much time in the months after 9/11 attending and travelling to and from Yankees’ games instead of at ground zero, somewhat undercutting his claim that he was at ground zero more than almost anyone else. Like we needed any further proof that he’s a scrub.


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