Background: The feds are covering their asses for, shall we say, a medieval approach to CIA police work when the shit hit the fan after 9/11.
Say what you like about Barack Obama, but hit-and-run writers looking for a gag line will miss that man. As in this Associated Press scoop about CIA brutality after the 911 debacle.
"...the document, which was circulating this week among White House officials and which the White House accidentally emailed to an Associated Press reporter... "
No one -- not Mark Twain, nor Will Rogers, nor P.J. O'Rourke -- could improve on that, so I'll be damned if I'll try.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 30, 2014
The Thousand-Dollar Morning
There aren't many days when I blow through $1,000 before breakfast.
It all started with New Dog Libby whose food supply was down to 48 hours. Meaning Walmart. Where I discovered Sam's heirs were out of .22 Long Rifle and Sodastream replacement cartridges. So I settled for
--a month's worth of Purina in an Ol' Roy bag
--a week's worth of milk and bread
--and one medium-grade party's worth of beer.
Elsewhere in the great commercial centers of the Smugleye-on-Lake SMSA I acquired four gallons of non-ethanated gasoline for the small engines required to maintain the parade fields of Camp Jiggleview, of which I am Commandant.
Math whizzes will note that even at Ben Bernanke/Janet Yellin prices I am not within spitting distance of a grand, but wait. There's more.
While among the barbarians anyway, I thought, "What the Hell. The van is already warmed up and there will be a winter this year, Al Gore to the contrary notwithstanding." So I turned into the local grain elevator which also sells propane, waded through the early-morning farmers and agricultural poseurs loafing over free coffee, and bought
--one year's worth of icky fossil fuel.
Honesty requires admission that even the earth-smarming LP didn't quite get me to the four-figure threshold which justifies a whining blog entry, so I waffled a hair and have just -- still before breakfast -- transferred the remainder of the balance due the fine (if dilatory) Caspian folks for
--what I hope is a life time's supply of slide for the Commanderish project in .45 ACP. (The promised delivery time, more than 13 weeks ago, was "about 8-10 weeks." At least they're being honest in their pledge not to bill my plastic company until it is shipped.)
That did it, and so to breakfast before seeing if there is air in the bicycle tires so I can once again go can collecting in the country air.
---
Side observations include.
1. The critical shortage of Sodastream cartridges rivals that of .22s. One suspects a conspiracy between Bloomberg and Holder. Each knows compressed carbon dioxide can readily be converted into a weapon of mass destruction with the addition of a few other chemicals commonly found around any well-supplied home -- propane (UH Ohhh), ammonia, Clorox, and/or Ffffg. Among others. This terrorist threat would certainly make make women, children, and minorities hardest hit.
2. Since women are supposed to be nicer and more truthful than men, I had hoped to find Janet's dictated "2 per cent" inflation was truth rather than an echo of Ben's long lie. It was saddening, therefore, to find smoked picnics (the cheap parts of pigs) at $2.38 a pound against against an historical (c. 2009) under a buck. Perhaps worse, Smucker's all-natural peanut butter has advanced from $2.49 to $2.98 in just a few months, a clear inflationary rate of 19.67 per cent.
And if all that ain't as true and sincere as a Jimmy Swaggert apology I'll kiss your picnic on the steps of the Federal Reserve Board and pay you to hire Hillary Clinton's booking agent for the running commentary.
It all started with New Dog Libby whose food supply was down to 48 hours. Meaning Walmart. Where I discovered Sam's heirs were out of .22 Long Rifle and Sodastream replacement cartridges. So I settled for
--a month's worth of Purina in an Ol' Roy bag
--a week's worth of milk and bread
--and one medium-grade party's worth of beer.
Elsewhere in the great commercial centers of the Smugleye-on-Lake SMSA I acquired four gallons of non-ethanated gasoline for the small engines required to maintain the parade fields of Camp Jiggleview, of which I am Commandant.
Math whizzes will note that even at Ben Bernanke/Janet Yellin prices I am not within spitting distance of a grand, but wait. There's more.
While among the barbarians anyway, I thought, "What the Hell. The van is already warmed up and there will be a winter this year, Al Gore to the contrary notwithstanding." So I turned into the local grain elevator which also sells propane, waded through the early-morning farmers and agricultural poseurs loafing over free coffee, and bought
--one year's worth of icky fossil fuel.
Honesty requires admission that even the earth-smarming LP didn't quite get me to the four-figure threshold which justifies a whining blog entry, so I waffled a hair and have just -- still before breakfast -- transferred the remainder of the balance due the fine (if dilatory) Caspian folks for
--what I hope is a life time's supply of slide for the Commanderish project in .45 ACP. (The promised delivery time, more than 13 weeks ago, was "about 8-10 weeks." At least they're being honest in their pledge not to bill my plastic company until it is shipped.)
That did it, and so to breakfast before seeing if there is air in the bicycle tires so I can once again go can collecting in the country air.
---
Side observations include.
1. The critical shortage of Sodastream cartridges rivals that of .22s. One suspects a conspiracy between Bloomberg and Holder. Each knows compressed carbon dioxide can readily be converted into a weapon of mass destruction with the addition of a few other chemicals commonly found around any well-supplied home -- propane (UH Ohhh), ammonia, Clorox, and/or Ffffg. Among others. This terrorist threat would certainly make make women, children, and minorities hardest hit.
2. Since women are supposed to be nicer and more truthful than men, I had hoped to find Janet's dictated "2 per cent" inflation was truth rather than an echo of Ben's long lie. It was saddening, therefore, to find smoked picnics (the cheap parts of pigs) at $2.38 a pound against against an historical (c. 2009) under a buck. Perhaps worse, Smucker's all-natural peanut butter has advanced from $2.49 to $2.98 in just a few months, a clear inflationary rate of 19.67 per cent.
And if all that ain't as true and sincere as a Jimmy Swaggert apology I'll kiss your picnic on the steps of the Federal Reserve Board and pay you to hire Hillary Clinton's booking agent for the running commentary.
Jul 26, 2014
Let us remark the centenary of a watershed event in human evolutionary possibilities. In 1914, one hundred years ago, the brassiere was patented.
This lead to the first known master's thesis containing a title colon, to wit:
Dexterity in Manipulation of Small Fasteners Under Tension: A New Determinant of Reproductive Success?
This lead to the first known master's thesis containing a title colon, to wit:
Dexterity in Manipulation of Small Fasteners Under Tension: A New Determinant of Reproductive Success?
Jul 25, 2014
Klem Kadiddlehopper gets a new car.
And he doesn't even have to drive it when he's takin' Alice out to see the submarine races in her frilly blue gown.
My native state is pretty well known for over-reaching, but historically that has been mostly by Klem and his fellow agrarians over-reaching for green government checks.*
Lately we have expanded our ambition and decided to lead the world in high-tech endeavor, and Johnson County wants to be in the forefront. It is Iowa City, the University of Iowa, the place that gave one Barack Obama his start back in '08 and turned out 67 per cent for him in 2012.
I mean, that is one progressive cow-pasture, so in a way I endorse its lust to be home to the driverless car. Any populace that loony should be relieved of all possible adult-like responsibility.
The cheerleaders, however, overstate their case. Here's a guy named Nolte:
“We as humans overestimate our competency for safety behind the wheel,” according to Nolte. “When you compare us to these (driver-free) systems — we are going to have 360 degree vision, they’ll never get tired, they’ll never get distracted, they’ll be able to communicate with other vehicles with the infrastructure — they are vastly superior from a safety standpoint than humans ever will be.”
Okay, maybe it is more like hyperventilation than simple overstatement.
And I wonder if Johnson County will invite General Motors to plunk its miracle cars down on campus streets. If it does, I wonder if it will be before or after GM learns how to build an ignition switch that doesn't kill you.
Just, y'know, to sort of demonstrate that the company is really getting the hang of this electrical computer thing.
---
*I'm going to try it myself. The horseradish out back is flourishing. So I'm gonna go see the county extension agent to see how much the gummint will pay me to grow less next year. It he says no I'll have to settle for you guys paying for my horseradish crop insurance.
My native state is pretty well known for over-reaching, but historically that has been mostly by Klem and his fellow agrarians over-reaching for green government checks.*
Lately we have expanded our ambition and decided to lead the world in high-tech endeavor, and Johnson County wants to be in the forefront. It is Iowa City, the University of Iowa, the place that gave one Barack Obama his start back in '08 and turned out 67 per cent for him in 2012.
I mean, that is one progressive cow-pasture, so in a way I endorse its lust to be home to the driverless car. Any populace that loony should be relieved of all possible adult-like responsibility.
The cheerleaders, however, overstate their case. Here's a guy named Nolte:
“We as humans overestimate our competency for safety behind the wheel,” according to Nolte. “When you compare us to these (driver-free) systems — we are going to have 360 degree vision, they’ll never get tired, they’ll never get distracted, they’ll be able to communicate with other vehicles with the infrastructure — they are vastly superior from a safety standpoint than humans ever will be.”
Okay, maybe it is more like hyperventilation than simple overstatement.
And I wonder if Johnson County will invite General Motors to plunk its miracle cars down on campus streets. If it does, I wonder if it will be before or after GM learns how to build an ignition switch that doesn't kill you.
Just, y'know, to sort of demonstrate that the company is really getting the hang of this electrical computer thing.
---
*I'm going to try it myself. The horseradish out back is flourishing. So I'm gonna go see the county extension agent to see how much the gummint will pay me to grow less next year. It he says no I'll have to settle for you guys paying for my horseradish crop insurance.
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