Infinite Monkeys
"...a sparkly blog..." - James Lileks"Read them only with extreme caution."- Hugh Hewitt
Infinite MonkeysI dislike the inside-baseball jockeying two years before the next presidential election. It's boring, and it isn't very useful. Had the 2004 election been held among the nascent Blogosphere in, say, January 2003, George W. Bush would have crushed himself by a 99 percent margin. Had the contest been held a year later, we'd be lamenting the failures of the Dean administration today.
The previous assertions assume two things, weakly, on a Sunday morning with but three cups of coffee: 1) only the Blogosphere votes and 2) nobody except blogger-types really gives a damn who's running for president the day before New Year's 2007.
Does that make sense? No? Good.
Because all of that was really just throat-clearing in advance of slapping around our friend Hugh Hewitt a little bit.
Now, Hugh is a sharp man, a wise man. Hugh has staked his good name on the power of the new media to sway the political debate. And Hugh may be right. He's certainly moved a good bit of traffic our way, God bless 'im. And everyone knows the Monkeys are all about the high-minded political discourse.
But Hugh sometimes says things that are... well, disingenuous. For example:
[T]he [Boston] Globe is trying to push me into the Romney camp, for reasons I cannot understand.
Oh, I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Hugh's next book is titled A Mormon in the White House?: 10 Things Every Conservative Should Know about Mitt Romney. Yes, yes, it's a fairly neutral title. I freely acknowledge it does not say "10 Reasons Every Conservative Should Vote for Mitt Romney." But the book, which I've obviously not read, purports to "explain Romney, his faith, and the importance of that debate in a headline-making and election-shaping opening shot in the campaign before the campaign."
Sounds interesting, no? Such a book might not put Hugh squarely in "the Romney camp," but it sure puts him in the campaign's near orbit.
Of course, I may be wrong. I usually am. In that case, I eagerly await Hugh's follow-up, A Megalomaniac in the White House? 10 Things Every Conservative Should Know About John McCain, Rudy Giuliani and Newt Gingrich.
The great Josh Trevino rounds up the lunatic left's reaction to a tyrant's hanging. The gist: Saddam bad, Bush worse.
Quoth Trevino:
They don't think the real tyrant is the man who (hanged) today. That is their peculiar madness: an inability to see a fundamental good done without the reflexive, 'Yes, but....' They think it a function of their power of perspicacity, but it is nothing more than the very thing that drove the dead man himself: the marriage of persistent paranoia, and enduring hate.
I for one raised my glass last night to the memory of the untold hundreds of thousands who perished under Saddam Hussein's reign of terror. May they rest in peace. May he roast in Hell.
Iraq may or may not be better off without Saddam Hussein, but the world is most certainly a better place.
He may have been a Ford, not a Lincoln, but he was a great man (his brief presidency and poor presidential campaign against someone who will never be great are but a fraction of his life, though it will be the most remembered fraction). Gerald Ford, dead at 93. It's a cliche, but we hardly knew him.
I was going to post on James Brown's illness last night, but it did not seem so important. Now I wake to learn that Mr. Dynamite is no more. What a performer! And what a terribly flawed man. He had soul. He was super bad. And he truly was the hardest working man in show business. May he rest in peace.
Merry Christmas, movie house! Merry Christmas, Emporium! Merry Christmas, you wonderful old Building and Loan!
Seems like we lost a lot of the great ones this year.
Who knew Ethiopia had jet fighters?
...there seems to be a jihad afoot. And one of its more prominent spokesmen believes the recent elections had rather large implications. But it's all King George propaganda, I'm sure.
Daily Bleat readers are aware that Lileks bought himself some new wheels a while back. He searched high and low, and eventually settled on one of those goofy-ass Honda Elements.
He appears happy with his decision, as he extols the car's virtues regularly; and though boxy, stupid-looking vehicles are not my personal cup of tea, I can not fault a man simply because his tastes differ from mine, and those of every person who has a nodding acquaintance with basic aesthetics and at least one functioning eye.
Anyway, a few days ago, I ran across one of these hideous things, sullying the streets of my neighborhood with its grotesque presence:
It's from Toyota, and it's called the "FJ Cruiser." "FJ", as in, "Are you Fucking Joking?"
Obviously, this too is not my style. But when I saw it I immediately thought of James. That's partly because it shares its design sensibilities -- or lack thererof -- with his beloved Element. But mostly it's because, when I saw this monstrosity, the first thing that went through my head was, "Oh, it's the Japanese Hummer."
And how do the Japanese pronounce "Hummer"?
That's right. It's a "Hummel". My God, it's the Lileks dream car! If only he'd waited a few extra months before plunking down his down-payment.
Virginia must have a special lab where they artificially grow Republican politicians who are complete and utter morons.
Jody Bottom coins a new epithet as he expounds on "wrapping paper rapture." Enjoy! (HT: Arts and Letters Daily)
The other day I wondered whether somebody would be stupid enough to put a baby through an airport X-ray machine. Stupid question. Maybe the TSA should put its warning in red letters instead of blue.
Walking into a market this evening I am greeted by a Boy Scout troop doing a fundraiser, offering to dispose of your Christmas trees.
Christmas tree, the Boy Scout kid says.
Followed by his saying "Happy Holidays."
Kid. You're a Boy Scout troop. You're offering a Christmas tree pick-up service.
It's okay to say "Merry Christmas."
Honestly.
Turns out, I am Time Magazine's Person of the Year. Seriously.
But, then again, so are you.
And so is Monkey Robb.
Man, what a rip.
No way I'm subscribing now. Up yours, ghost of Henry Luce!
My favorite holiday song this year: "Reindeer Games," by Pat Godwin.
We've been pulling this sleigh
Under your rein
On your big day
But it's us who know where to go
Who know what to do
Getting you through.
So tonight we party away the pain,
Curse the fat man's fortune and fame
And play our reindeer games.
We talk behind your back
Slurs and wisecracks
While you're packing the sack.
And the elves are no better than us
They all discuss
You on the bus.
Every year we curse and lay the blame
But the boss remains the same
So we play our reindeer games
Reindeer games after work
Comet, cut the cards, don't be a jerk
Rudolph with your nose so bright
Won't you just kiss my ass tonight!
It's not that we're smarter than you
Hands rule the world
Hooves just won't do.
All through time slaves hated the king
The post office clerk
Shot everything.
So tonight we'll burn out like the flame
Of the fire we can't tame
and play our reindeer
Lay the blame
and play our reindeer
Curse his name
and play our reindeer games.
Oh for crying out loud!
The Heart Attack Grill has Sponge Bath Saturdays!
A quadruple Bypass Burger. A sponge bath, and Nurse Caterina . . .
and no Monkey reviews?
Good Gawd, what is going on in Arizona?
Is it any wonder I cannot support McCain?
David?
Brad?
RobbL??
Beuller?
Anyone?
And not for something completely different . . .
The Barack Obama boomlet really is a fascinating phenomena, for a variety of reasons.
Why is he suddenly the "it girl"? A rookie Senator with little experience and big ears? What is it about him? Honestly, his background it not particularly compelling. He has no experience to speak of, yet he is slowly emerging as the chief rival to HRC.
Do the Democrats really fear the inevitability (and unelectability) of Hillary?
Why the sudden Obama Love?
I have a theory, but it would only get me in trouble.
From Powerline Blog:
Most of our readers know the story of Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain at Gettysburg. Ordered to hold Little Round Top at all costs, Chamberlain's 20th Maine fended off one attack after another. Finally, Chamberlain's men were nearly out of ammunition and it was clear they would not be able to withstand another assault. Prudence counseled retreat, but Chamberlain's orders forbade it. The Maine regiment could neither fall back nor stay where it was, so Chamberlain took the only course open to him: he told his men to fix bayonets and prepare to charge.
Yep. And 54 seconds left in the game, Matty Koalksa scored the game tying goal and Grant Potulnty the game winning goal in overtime to beat Maine 4-3.
God I hate Maine.
What? That's not what they're talking about? Well then who cares?
The boys at Fraters seem to be all a twitter over the prospect of a Mitt Romney candidacy for president, with Chad the Old Guy holding out for Newt "More Baggage than Clinton" Gingrich and St. Peter, Paul or Mary having a knee-jerk reaction to all things Mitt.
Dudes.
I like Newt. I don't know Newt. And Newt is not a friend of mine.
Newt will never, ever get elected President. Ever. Period. Get over it. Democrats can have baggage. Republicans cannot. Newt it excess baggage.
McCain? Please. I prefer my Republicans loyal. You remember Reagan's Eleventh Commandment, don't you? How about the First Amendment? You know, the whole freedom of expression bullshit? Oh, wait. I know. Judges. The Gang of Whatever.
Rudy?
I'll give ya Rudy. Rudy is all about leadership, and that counts for a buttload in my feeble, fevered little brain.
But Rudy also stands for gun control. And partial birth abortion. And gay marriage. And other wussy liberal stuff (how's that for deep political commentary?) If that's okay, he's your guy.
Oh, Old Guy? Nate Raduns, forward for the #6 ranked St. Cloud State University Huskies, and actor Sean Bean are an awesome Seperated at Birth. Not my fault you have no respect for one of King's econ boys.
In case there was any doubt, I am horribly immature. Seriously. I mean that.
I'm checking into a hotel in Visalia, California (home of the fantabulous Double LL Steakhouse and the world's best server, Debbie), and a couple of raging Native Americans walk up to the desk while I am checking in.
Beads. Casino logos. Beaded wallets. All the trappings.
What does one of them say?
"I have a reservation."
Sorry. That cracked me up.
Yes, I know. I'm five years old. But at least I don't laugh at juvenile planetary humor.
And honestly, life is a series of Seinfeld episodes.
So, the 2006 Weblog Awards are underway. Where is Infinite Monkeys? In the crapper, that's where. And why? Why? Are you not entertained? Is this not why you are here?
Oh, sure. There are some worthy candidates to vote for. But it's a cheap popularity contest, nothing more.
Ah, to hell with it. As another H.L. once wrote: "Awards are for jackasses." Or words to that effect.
Anyway, screw you, Webbies. This is just the kind of philistine pig-ignorance we monkeys have come to expect from you non-creative garbage.
God bless Peter Boyle, one of the great ones. He was a Wizard and a Monster and the immortal Frank Barone. "Things got you down? It happens to the best of us. I envy you, your youth. Go on, get laid. Get drunk, do anything. You got no choice. ... It’s not Bertrand Russell, but what do you want? I’m a cabby."
We'll miss him. Okay? Okay. Let's dance...
Senator Tim Johnson is reported to have suffered a stroke today. There's a lot of talk about Senate control (South Dakota has a Republican governor) but there will be time for that talk in the future, if it is even needed.
For now, I'll be praying for the Senator. He was taken to George Washington University Hospital, one of the best stroke treatment centers.
An important PSA: if someone starts slurring their words, or seems to be "drooping" on one side, or having difficulty doing something simple (like putting on his shoes), then call 911. There's been an effort to rename strokes "brain attacks" to emphasize the urgency of quick care. There are some treatments available that are only effective in the first few hours after the stroke. A friend of mine suffered a stroke a couple of years ago, and found out something he hadn't noticed: the hospital a few blocks away was home to one of the world's best neurological institutes. He's dong great.
I hope the Senator made it there on time, and will have a strong recovery.
Update: Not a stroke, but bleeding in the brain. Which is...different. As for the politics...well, let's let that wait a while longer.
Goodbye to a great actor and a funny man: Peter Boyle.
No, really. This is just filler.
What do you give the 75-year-old retired engineer who has everything? How the hell should I know? That's why I'm asking. So, in a fit of desperation, I Googled "gifts for engineers." Lo and behold, I discovered this site. I guess I should have been more specific. How about gifts for crusty old engineers who don't give a crap about Thomas Edison ties or circuit board coasters? Any suggestions? No?
Nuts.
Worst. Christmas movies. Ever.
Update: Crap. Registration required. Thank goodness for Bugmenot!
Thank god for politically correct, over-sensitive grievance mongering organizations like the Arizona Board of Nursing, otherwise I would not know about my new favorite burger (which I've never had): The Quadruple Bypass Burger at Tempe, Arizona's Heart Attack Grill. Two pounds of heart-stopping goodness. Plus bacon. Mmmmmm, bacon.
And the fries. Cooked in pure lard. And for the health fanatics? Cigarettes!
And no, notwithstanding the massive coronary awaiting you on the menu, the girls at the Nursing Board are not concerned about your health. They're pissed about Cyndi, Kimmi, and Kortnie.
Good move, girls of the nursing board. Two college bowl games coming to town in Phoenix/Tempe (same thing), and your protest is giving a burger and beer joint with sexy waitresses ("nurses"?) free publicity? Yeah, that'll help.
And if "Nurse" Caterina can eat a Quadruple Bypass Burger, so can you.
Mmmm, Caterina.
Lisa Schmeiser offers some sensible advice for what not to give this holiday season. Amazon is a beautiful thing.
I love this: "San Francisco Fights Over Its Character". Seems there is a fight brewing in the City between the Freaks and the Man. Quoth the Associated Press: "Residents of the Tenderloin district and Haight-Ashbury contend a crackdown would rob their neighborhoods of their identity and violate everything San Francisco stands for." Oh, I wouldn't worry too much. The hippie stink will never really go away, no matter how much non-toxic, bio-degradable, ozone-building air freshener the city managers uncork.
Don't these people ever shut up? Only when their terms expire.
While unfinished legislation stacked up, retiring and defeated lawmakers consumed hours each day in the House of Representatives and the Senate saying their goodbyes before relinquishing the spotlight.Their farewell speeches ranged from funny to angry, from weird to poignant, and sometimes a little of each.
So long, gentlemen, and farewell. May you find more honor at home than you did in the putrid marshes of Washington D.C.
Courtesy of our friends at the Transportation Security Administration:
NEVER leave babies in an infant carrier while it goes through the X-ray machine.
No kidding. Has anyone ever tried to put a baby through an airport X-ray? Seriously?
In addition to staying vigilant about who and what gets through airport security, screeners have to keep a close eye on the X-ray machines. A surprising number of people try to run their pets — whose skeletons have appeared on the X-rays — and even their children through them, unnecessarily exposing them to its radiation and other dangers.Parents with sleeping babies often insist on running the car seat with the child through the X-ray machine rather than waking the slumbering child. That won't fly with screeners.
"I got into a real disagreement with a woman who wanted to put her baby in a car seat and try to put her through," security director Beecroft said.
Some people are just half-baked.
Sixty-five years later, the surprise attack remains vivid for many and has much to teach about the war we're in now.
The world's sole superpower is hardly omnipotent. So Garry Kasparov makes the case that America's focus on Iraq has diverted our attention from the advance of tyranny across the globe. Writes the chess great: "This dire situation is a result of the only thing worse than a failed strategy: the inability to recognize, or to admit, that a strategy has failed." It's tough to disagree. Though acknowledging a failure of strategy and embracing defeatism are two very different things.
