By Tam, and cogent even beyond her usual standards, explaining again that the Bill of Rights is not a technicality designed to let known criminals go free.
It should be required memorization work in every high school civics class in America, and if that ain't the solid gold truth I'll kiss your arse at high noon on the Supreme Court steps and let you engage Bill O'Reilly to do live commentary with B-roll closeups.
Jul 8, 2011
Jul 7, 2011
Into the lutefisk jungle
I face the future with fear, not for Camp J which will be under the care of an armed house-sitter whose only failings are a short temper, a surly disposition, and a lamentable territoriality. It's the best I could do for next week's short venture into the jungle of government-free Minnesota.
As always, I prepare for the northern safari with extreme care. Sidearm; check. Another sidearm; check. Body armor; check. Case of survival food; check. Most importantly, the precautions include 16-ounce disposable cups in the face of locked-down public pissoirs.
---
My intel always includes poring over the Star-Tribune, Minnesota's second most important newspaper*, for the latest danger, and I discover my peril if some happenstance should require emergency admittance to a geriatric facility.
Under a headline shouting, "Care for elderly, disabled starting to show strain," it reports that a storm blew the roof from a Belleview nursing home.
The facility needs state approval to rebuild. But administrator Jim Broich can't get the safety checks required by state law because the engineers who review plans were laid off.
I see. The rain will fall into the old folks' little bed chambers because it is illegal to rebuild a roof without a public inspector on hand to inspect. After careful reflection, I deem this a splendid law. The highly experimental state of roof-building technology requires such marvels as rafters, sheathing, and shingles -- all installed with inter-fibrous friction fasteners. No private citizen (such as, say, a journeyman carpenter) can be trusted with the job, and certainly no owner is qualified to say, "yep, it looks like it won't fall down, so I probably won't need to sue your ass off. Here's your check."
---
I'll also need to avoid camping in the state parks. However could I make it without a ranger to guide me to the showers?
Anarchy is such a horror.
---
*After the St. Cloud Times, in case you forgot.
As always, I prepare for the northern safari with extreme care. Sidearm; check. Another sidearm; check. Body armor; check. Case of survival food; check. Most importantly, the precautions include 16-ounce disposable cups in the face of locked-down public pissoirs.
---
My intel always includes poring over the Star-Tribune, Minnesota's second most important newspaper*, for the latest danger, and I discover my peril if some happenstance should require emergency admittance to a geriatric facility.
Under a headline shouting, "Care for elderly, disabled starting to show strain," it reports that a storm blew the roof from a Belleview nursing home.
The facility needs state approval to rebuild. But administrator Jim Broich can't get the safety checks required by state law because the engineers who review plans were laid off.
I see. The rain will fall into the old folks' little bed chambers because it is illegal to rebuild a roof without a public inspector on hand to inspect. After careful reflection, I deem this a splendid law. The highly experimental state of roof-building technology requires such marvels as rafters, sheathing, and shingles -- all installed with inter-fibrous friction fasteners. No private citizen (such as, say, a journeyman carpenter) can be trusted with the job, and certainly no owner is qualified to say, "yep, it looks like it won't fall down, so I probably won't need to sue your ass off. Here's your check."
---
I'll also need to avoid camping in the state parks. However could I make it without a ranger to guide me to the showers?
Anarchy is such a horror.
---
*After the St. Cloud Times, in case you forgot.
Jul 6, 2011
Where's my sledge?
I don't know whether Casey Anthony killed her baby or not, but from more than a thousand miles away, I am inclined to give the jury the benefit of whatever doubt exists. (I think I read in Blackstone that I'm supposed to.)
As to the teevee personages, I find them guilty, en masse, of felonious overuse of the terms "stun," stunned" and "stunning" and sentence them to a non-methaphorical stunning.
.
As to the teevee personages, I find them guilty, en masse, of felonious overuse of the terms "stun," stunned" and "stunning" and sentence them to a non-methaphorical stunning.
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Jul 3, 2011
Independence Day, 1776 and 2011
John Adams wants you to have a good time tomorrow. To Abbie he wrote:
"The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more.
See? You have a Founder's permission to go to the range.
Never mind his "second day." It's just part of history's ambiguity which keeps otherwise unemployable academics off the streets, harmlessly picking nits.
.
"The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more.
See? You have a Founder's permission to go to the range.
Never mind his "second day." It's just part of history's ambiguity which keeps otherwise unemployable academics off the streets, harmlessly picking nits.
.
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