A man on C-Span is named Cesar Purisma. He is telling us how to end goverrnment corruption. He is minister of finance for the Philippines.
Dec 22, 2013
Sunday Symphony
1. I have been forced to speak sharply to Tam for negativity about weapons favored by patriotic old Luddites everywhere. A sad duty here in this season of charity and love, but some offenses must not go unchallenged.
2. I have created a war zone in my back yard. When I cook, I cook too much and freeze leftovers. I accumulate too much nearly stale bread. From time to time, including last evening, space limitations make me bag it all up for the wild bunch. I generally spread it out atop the propane tank, a place which, despite valiant efforts, New Dog Libby can not reach. This morning I was entertained by a pair of quarrelome blue jays fighting for the orts as, below, a red squirrel smugly fattened himself on the stuff they scattered. Both jays and squirrel suffered a strategic reverse when my current feral cat, a big long-haired grey, arrived to take charge.
3. In days gone by, Christmas was time for intense creative energy trying to find just the right gift. Time passes. Patience fades. I now judge the appropriateness of a present by how easy it is to wrap. If my family cares to consider this a warning, so be it.
4. You don't know much about the history of the Russian River, do you? Me either, so I was glad to pick up the paperback The Russian River (ISBN 0-553-28844 x) and get the general drift painlessly, along with what might have been a few entertaiing and credible tales from the far western branch of the 1820s fur trade. I muddled through, although an early reference to a six-foot diameter Indian tent being comfortable for six or seven people pretty well destroyed its credibility. (Sketch it out.) This is part of a "Rivers of America" series which is supposed to be a set of novels with a useful background of geographic and cultural truth. The other one I read, about the Powder River, wasn't much better. Too bad, a great idea poorly executed, I would guess because adequate writers were forced to work hastily.
5. The monkey balls are rolling loose. It's been tens of degrees below average for a long time, but I'm getting weary of Gore jibes. So Happy Holidays, Al, and I hope you can find a way to live with all that cheap natural gas coming out of North Dakota. If not, do us a favor and freeze in the dark.
2. I have created a war zone in my back yard. When I cook, I cook too much and freeze leftovers. I accumulate too much nearly stale bread. From time to time, including last evening, space limitations make me bag it all up for the wild bunch. I generally spread it out atop the propane tank, a place which, despite valiant efforts, New Dog Libby can not reach. This morning I was entertained by a pair of quarrelome blue jays fighting for the orts as, below, a red squirrel smugly fattened himself on the stuff they scattered. Both jays and squirrel suffered a strategic reverse when my current feral cat, a big long-haired grey, arrived to take charge.
3. In days gone by, Christmas was time for intense creative energy trying to find just the right gift. Time passes. Patience fades. I now judge the appropriateness of a present by how easy it is to wrap. If my family cares to consider this a warning, so be it.
4. You don't know much about the history of the Russian River, do you? Me either, so I was glad to pick up the paperback The Russian River (ISBN 0-553-28844 x) and get the general drift painlessly, along with what might have been a few entertaiing and credible tales from the far western branch of the 1820s fur trade. I muddled through, although an early reference to a six-foot diameter Indian tent being comfortable for six or seven people pretty well destroyed its credibility. (Sketch it out.) This is part of a "Rivers of America" series which is supposed to be a set of novels with a useful background of geographic and cultural truth. The other one I read, about the Powder River, wasn't much better. Too bad, a great idea poorly executed, I would guess because adequate writers were forced to work hastily.
5. The monkey balls are rolling loose. It's been tens of degrees below average for a long time, but I'm getting weary of Gore jibes. So Happy Holidays, Al, and I hope you can find a way to live with all that cheap natural gas coming out of North Dakota. If not, do us a favor and freeze in the dark.
Dec 19, 2013
Annoying Seasonal Lies
"Every kiss begins with a Kay."
Bullshit. A kiss begins with her sudden realization that he can build serviceable shelves.
Bullshit. A kiss begins with her sudden realization that he can build serviceable shelves.
Dec 18, 2013
Woof! Speaking of great ideas...
As previously reported in these pages, Federal Reserve Board Chairman Ben Bernanke is retiring soon. Traditionally, we present gifts to fellows and gals who hang up their Armanis.
It is a fine tradition, and I think we should take up a collection and buy Ben a Weimariner.
.
It is a fine tradition, and I think we should take up a collection and buy Ben a Weimariner.
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