Mr. Chairman, I ask unanimous consent to suspend the rules.

Quite properly, most writers in this corner of blogville consider it gauche to prattle on about personal good fortune. But we can make an exception when a man's grandson becomes a National Merit Scholarship finalist, can't we?

Well done, Son.

Populating my island

Dorothy would meet my standards of anarcho-capitalist nubility. She was quite a homemaker to boot and could easily whip out a black-and-gold sarong.

Oh it's brother Jimmy's turn to throw the bomb

Well, heck. I've thought of myself all these years as a simple libertarian, friendly, not too bullheaded about my ideas,  just a regular live-and-let-live guy who would shoot you only as a last resort.

Rigorous testing by the authoritative Christian Science Monitor reveals the black truth. 

You are an anarcho-capitalist.

You have sailed right past Paul's hard-nosed libertarianism and off into the uncharted waters of right-wing anarchism. You would be most happy living on a private island that you have declared a sovereign state, which, needless to say, won't be seeking to join the UN anytime soon..

---

So be it. (The warmer the island and its nubility, the better.)

The Wisdom of Leonard Nimoy

Heather Mc Hugh, poet, writes:

"Once, on meeting Leonard Nimoy and his wife, I was gratified to find out...how literate they are. He advised me on the pronunciation of some words in the expression Alle Kunst ist umsunst Wenn ein Engel auf das Zundloch brunzet (which covers a multitude of sins and means something like: all skill is in vain if an angel pisses down the touch-hole of your musket."

(Via snail mail from my old pal Janna.)