You Say Potato, I Say Hyperbole

I think it fair to say that Dean Mundy, author of the blog Musings of a Thoughtful Conservative, and a part-time community columnist for the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel is widely respected on both the left and right sides of the cheddarsphere. I know I have appreciated his approach to issues, if not agreeing with them always.

But recently, Dean decided to become involved in comments over at The Xoff Files regarding a piece titled "A tax-exempt GOP rally and hate fest." I suspect the real reason Dean became so upset was because the event targeted by Xoff was one that Dean attended. Maybe not. But the exchange occurred over this portion of an article written by an insider at the event.

Vicki McKenna, conservative radio host at WIBA-AM 1310 in Madison, urged the audience to challenge the "left-ended world view" of the mainstream media "until we kill them," she said, "until they are deader than dead."

A blogger/commenter named George Roberts responded to this.

And such a frustration with the media, Owen, that the audience was called upon to kill them? Would that include Ms. McBride, still a newspaper columnist in the MSM? Or just how many hours a week does one have to be in journalistic employment to merit murder? Do you require an 8-hour workday? Or is one a prorated target if working part-time in the MSM? That kind of talk would get Ms. McKenna hauled away at airport security, I would hope, but it was okay at your convention? So much for the kinder, gentler country brought to us by the conservative revolution.

At this point, Dean intervened.

I attended it also, saw and visited the Libertarian party booth, heard one panel led by Sheriff David Clarke, who, in spite of protestations from the Left, is still a Democrat, and listened to another one which Mikel Holt, a self-confessed independent, sat on. A conservative convention, perhaps, but certainly not a Republican one.

I'm surprised the left takes the phrases about killing so literally. Must never have played sports where killing is mentioned with no one contemplating homicide.

One of the "nuts," I guess.

Aside from the silliness regarding Sheriff Clarke, whom we all know could not win if he ran as a Republican, and Mikel Holt, who is a creation of Charlie Sykes if there ever was one, this was too much … associating threats of murder with sports. So I responded.

There's a heck of a difference between yelling as a team (for example) ... "Let's kill'em, go Tigers" ... and pointing out individuals or groups of individuals for murder.

I would have thought you knew that difference, Dean. Not very thoughtful in this case.

Dean retaliated with this.

Well, let's see, Tim, the writer described it as a "pep rally". Do you really think they were calling for murder?

I would have to question your literary skills, then.

Oh, come on, I thought. Needing to respond, I said:

No need to get snippy.It was the author's decision to use those words. I think Ms. McKenna's phrasing was a little more ominous. Big difference!

My literary skills are fine, thank you.

Dean came right back:

It was hyperbole. Good grief, in a public place, someone is going to call for someone's murder? I can't believe you guys would take that literally. I can't wait for the next time a liberal speaks in hyperbole.

At which point I decided to quit. But only briefly, so I could comment in length here. First of all, a description of the word hyperbole from the Merriam-Webster Online dictionary.

Etymology: Latin, from Greek hyperbolE excess, hyperbole, hyperbola, from hyperballein to exceed, from hyper- + ballein to throw -- more at DEVIL: extravagant exaggeration (as "mile-high ice-cream cones")

Exaggeration ... as in mile-high ice cream cones, or sleeping for a year, or a book weighing a ton … you, know, nasty stuff. Stuff that kids do all the time. I’ve even told my kids a million times not to exaggerate.

THESE are samples of hyperbole. Notice that these samples really couldn’t, wouldn’t happen. Now, check this one out.

"Anyone who sees and paints a sky green and fields blue ought to be sterilized."

Sterilized? My children like to draw. Are they bound to be sterilized for this? Well, of course not, because as Dean would say, "It’s hyperbole. "

The author of that hyperbole was Adolf Hitler. Ach, that Fuhrer, he’s such a kidder.

I do not know if the previous quote was ever said in public, which seems to define a true hyperbole for Dean. But the following were said in public by Adolf.

I believe today that I am acting in the sense of the Almighty Creator. By warding off the Jews I am fighting for the Lord's work. (speech in PUBLIC before the Reichstag in 1933)

My feelings as a Christian points me to my Lord and Saviour as a fighter. It points me to the man who once in loneliness, surrounded by a few followers, recognised these Jews for what they were and summoned men to fight against them and who, God’s truth! was greatest not as a sufferer but as a fighter. In boundless love as a Christian and as a man I read through the passage which tells us how the Lord at last rose in His might and seized the scourge to drive out of the Temple the brood of vipers and adders. How terrific was His fight for the world against the Jewish poison. Today, after two thousand years, with deepest emotion I recognise more profoundly than ever before the fact that it was for this that He had to shed His blood upon the Cross. As a Christian I have no duty to allow my self to be cheated, but I have the duty to be a fighter for truth and justice...and if there is anything which could demonstrate that we are acting rightly it is the distress that daily grows. For as a Christian I have also a duty to my own people. (Speech in PUBLIC Munich (12 April 1922)

We all know what happened to the Jews in Europe. Just hyperbole, right?

I’ve only chosen to use Adolf Hitler as a source of refutation. I’m sure that the works of Josef Stalin, Mao, etc. would provide more fodder. Still not convinced that anyone in their right mind would say such “hyperbole” in public?

"I'm thinking about killing Michael Moore, and I'm wondering if I could kill him myself, or if I would need to hire somebody to do it. No, I think I could. I think he could be looking me in the eye, you know, and I could just be choking the life out -- is this wrong?" (Glenn Beck)

In this recurring nightmare of a presidency, we have a national debate about whether he "did it," even though all sentient people know he did. Otherwise there would be debates only about whether to impeach or assassinate. (Ann Coulter, regarding Bill Clinton)

If a liberal were to say something like this – and I have no doubt some fool has – the conservative media would be all over it, as would legion of liberals. However, a conservative says it and the response from their media and their partisans is, “It’s hyperbole.”

I still have much respect for Dean. But, IT IS NEVER HYPERBOLE WHEN LIVES ARE THREATENED.

So, Osama Walks into This Bar, See?

So, Osama Walks into This Bar, See? and Bush says, "Whad'l'ya have, pardner?" and Osama says...

But wait a minute. I'd better shut my mouth. The sign here in the airport says, "Security is no joking matter." But if security's no joking matter, why does this guy dressed in a high-school marching band outfit tell me to dump my Frappuccino and take off my shoes? All I can say is, Thank the Lord the "shoe bomber" didn't carry Semtex in his underpants.

Today's a RED and ORANGE ALERT day. How odd. They just caught the British guys with the chemistry sets. But when these guys were about to blow up airliners, the USA was on YELLOW alert. That's a "lowered" threat notice.

According to the press office from the Department of Homeland Security, lowered-threat Yellow means that there were no special inspections of passengers or cargo. Isn't it nice of Mr. Bush to alert Osama when half our security forces are given the day off? Hmm. I asked an Israeli security expert why his nation doesn't use these pretty color codes.

He asked me if, when I woke up, I checked the day's terror color. "I can't say I ever have. I mean, who would?"

He smiled. "The terrorists."

America is the only nation on the planet that kindly informs bombers, hijackers and berserkers the days on which they won't be monitored. You've got to get up pretty early in the morning to get a jump on George Bush's team.

There are three possible explanations for the Administration's publishing a good-day-for-bombing color guidebook.

1. God is on Osama's side.
2. George is on Osama's side.
3. Fear sells better than sex.

A gold star if you picked #3.

I'm going to tell you something which is straight-up heresy: America is not under attack by terrorists. There is no WAR on terror because, except for one day five years ago, al Qaeda has pretty much left us alone.

That's because Osama got what he wanted. There's no mystery about what Al Qaeda was after. Like everyone from the Girl Scouts to Bono, Osama put his wish on his web site. He had a single demand: "Crusaders out of the land of the two Holy Places." To translate: get US troops out of Saudi Arabia.

And George Bush gave it to him. On April 29, 2003, two days before landing on the aircraft carrier Lincoln, our self-described "War President" quietly put out a notice that he was withdrawing our troops from Saudi soil. In other words, our cowering cowboy gave in whimpering to Osama's demand.

The press took no note. They were all wiggie over Bush's waddling around the carrier deck in a disco-aged jump suit announcing, "MISSION ACCOMPLISHED." But it wasn't America's mission that was accomplished, it was Osama's.

Am I saying there's no danger, no threat? Sure there is: 46 million Americans don't have health insurance. IBM is legally stealing from its employees' pension plan and United Airlines has dumped its pensions altogether. Four-million three-hundred thousand Americans were injured, made sick or killed by their jobs last year. TXU Corporation is right now building four monster-sized power plants in Texas that will burn skuzzy gunk called "lignite." The filth it will pour into the sky will snuff a heck of a lot more Americans than some goofy group of fanatics with bottles of hydrogen peroxide.

But Americans don't ask for real protection from what's killing us. The War on Terror is the Weapon of Mass Distraction. Instead of demanding health insurance, we have 59 million of our fellow citizens pooping in their pants with fear of Al Qaeda, waddling to the polls, crying, "Georgie save us!"

And what does he give us? In my own small town, the federal government has paid for loading an SUV with .50 caliber machine guns to watch for an Al Qaeda attack at the dock of the ferry that takes tourists to the Indian casino in Connecticut. The casino dock is my town's officially designated "Critical Asset and Vulnerability Infrastructure Point (CAVIP)." (To find the most vulnerable points to attack in the USA, Al Qaeda can download a list from the Department of Homeland Security -- no kidding.)

But that's not all. Bush is protecting us from English hijackers with a fearsome anti-terrorist tool: the Virginia-class submarine. The V-boat was originally meant to hunt Soviet subs. But there are no more Soviet subs. So, General Dynamics and Lockheed Martin have "refitted" these Cold War dinosaurs with new torpedoes redesigned to carry counter-terror commandoes. That's right: when we find Osama's beach house, we can shoot our boys right up under his picnic table and take him out. These Marines-in-a-tube injector boats cost $2.5 billion each -- and our President's ordered half a dozen new ones.

Lynn Cheney, the Veep's wife, still takes in compensation from Lockheed as a former board member. I'm sure that has nothing to do with this multi-billion dollar "anti-terror" contract.

Fear sells better than sex. Fear is the sales pitch for many lucrative products: from billion-dollar sailor injectors to one very lucrative war in Mesopotamia (a third of a trillion dollars doled out, no audits, no questions asked).

Better than toothpaste that makes our teeth whiter than white, this stuff will make us safer than safe. It's political junk food, the cheap filling in the flashy tube. What we don't get is safety from the real dangers: a life-threatening health-care system, lung-murdering pollution production and a trade deficit with China that's reducing mid-America to coolie status. Protecting us from these true threats would take a slice of the profits of the Lockheeds, the Exxons and the rest of the owning class.

War on Terror is class war by other means -- to keep you from asking for real protection from true menace, the landlords of our nation give you fake protection from manufactured dangers. And they remind you to be afraid every time you fly to see Aunt Millie and have to give up your hemorrhoid ointment to the underpaid guy in the bell-hop suit with a security badge.

Oh, hey, you never got the punch line.So, Osama Walks into This Bar, See? and Bush says, "Whad'l'ya have, pardner?" and Osama says, "Well, George, what are you serving today?" and Bush says, "Fear," and Osama shouts, "Fear for everybody!" and George pours it on for the crowd. Then the presidential bartender says, "Hey, who's buying?" and Osama points a thumb at the crowd sucking down their brew. "They are," he says. And the two of them share a quiet laugh.

***

-- Greg Palast is the author of the just-released New York Times bestseller, "Armed Madhouse: Who's Afraid of Osama Wolf?, China Floats Bush Sinks, the Scheme to Steal '08, No Child's Behind Left and other Dispatches from the Front Lines of the Class War" from which this is adapted.

The Amish are Coming

I knew there was something sneaky about those Amish. Read this from Molly Ivins …

I personally have been sleeping more soundly at night knowing that Michael Chertoff is secretary of homeland security. Ever since Chertoff's agency brought us the stunning news that there are more terrorist targets in Indiana than in New York or Washington, I've realized this guy could find a terrorist plot anywhere. Watch out for the Amish -- they'll run right over you with those buggies, and they all have pitchforks, too. I hear they're connected to al-Qaida through Saddam Hussein.

Time to invade Pennsylvania. I hear there are lots of Amish there. And with their connections to al-Qaida, I just know that bunches of WMDs (wholesome maple desks) will be found.

Ivins also touches on the fall of Lieberman. Her source is none other than the ever popular veep of whom Jessica McBride says we should not complain. Last I heard, about 20% of the population still cared what he had to say (still higher than McBride’s ratings at night I’d bet).

Well, click here to read her entire column. I have to leave and duck ... I'm sure my friend Clint will have some mud to throw my way. Maybe not. I'll duck anyway.

New Type of Body Armor

The number of large chested women in the Middle East may increase after they hear of or read this story.

JERUSALEM - An Israeli woman's breast implants saved her life when she was wounded in a Hezbollah rocket attack during Israel's war with the Lebanese group, a hospital spokesman said Tuesday.

Doctors found shrapnel embedded in the silicone implants, just inches from the 24-year-old’s heart.

Or, the combatants could just stop bombing each other. Just a thought.

Sunday Evening Good Night

Was watching some movies tonight with the beautiful Kelly. The first was the Odd Couple with Jack Lemmon and Walter Mathau. I had not seen it in its entirety for quite a while. Loved the coo, coo Pigeon sisters.

After it was over, flipped over to see the end of Back to the Future. It was the clock tower scene. Marty and Doc are discussing the future. Marty has tried to give Doc a letter regarding Doc's fate ... at the bottom of the screen, there is a dialogue box and in it there is a discussion of how cold it was during filming and that the wind machine used, which was called a McBride, was so loud that some of the dialogue had to be re-recorded.

The thought crossed my mind that the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Sunday Ruminations

My son's birthday party was a smash hit Saturday. The now 11-year old made out like a bandit. He has enough gift cards to start his own wallet. He also has two lava lamps (Bill, do you remember lava lamps?). He got that from me. Friends, neighbors and family showed up and I didn't even have to beg them to or provide peace offerings (snicker!).

This from a friend of mine. Another of those Internet pieces, but again I'll post it because I like what it says (this is unusual, because I usually just toss these dregs).

***

1. There are at least two people in this world that you would die for.

2. At least 15 people in this world love you in some way.

3. The only reason anyone would ever hate you is because they want to be just like you.

4. A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they don't like you.

5. Every night, SOMEONE thinks about you before they go to sleep.

6. You mean the world to someone.

7. You are special and unique.

8. Someone that you don't even know exists loves you.

9. When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good comes from it.

10. When you think the world has turned its back on you take another look.

11. Always remember the compliments you received. Forget about the rude remarks.

Lizard Logic

My mom sent this to me ... she got it off the Internet so it's probably traveled around the world 15 or 16 times already. But I thought it funny.

***

Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was "something wrong" with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his room. "He's just lying there looking sick," he told me. "I'm serious, dad, can you help?"

I put my best lizard-healer statement on my face and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do.

"Honey," I called, "come look at the lizard!"

"Oh my gosh!," my wife diagnosed after a minute. "She's having babies."

"What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!"

I was equally outraged. "Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to reproduce," I accused my wife.

"Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?" she inquired. (I actually think she said this sarcastically!)

"No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I reminded her, (in my most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth together).

"Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.

"Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know," she informed me. (Again with the sarcasm, you think?)

By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it. "Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience, I announced. "We're about to witness the miracle of birth."

"Oh, gross!" they shrieked.

"Well, isn't THAT just great! What are we going to do with a litter of tiny little lizard babies?" my wife wanted to know. (I really do think she was being snotty here, too. Don't you?)

We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later. "We don't appear to be making much progress," I noted.

"It's breech,"my wife whispered, horrified.

"Do something, Dad!" my son urged.

"Okay, okay." Squeamishly , I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gentle tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.

"Should I call 911," my eldest daughter wanted to know. "Maybe they could talk us through the trauma." (You see a pattern here with the females in my house?)

"Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly. We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap. "Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he urged.

"I don't think lizards do Lamaze," his mother noted to him. (Women can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb, for God's sake.)

The Vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass.

"What do you think, Doc, a C-section?" I suggested scientifically.

"Oh, very interesting," he murmured. "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?" I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.

"Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked.

"Oh, perfectly," the Vet assured us. "This lizard is not in labor. In fact, that isn't EVER going to happen ... Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they um....um....masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back." He blushed, glancing at my wife. "Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr. Cameron."

We were silent, absorbing this. "So Ernie's just...just... excited," my wife offered.

"Exactly," the vet replied, relieved that we understood.

More silence. Then my viscous, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly.

"What's so funny?" I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness.

Tears were now running down her face. Laughing "It's just ... that ... I'm picturing you pulling on its ... its ... teeny little ...." She gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.

"That's enough," I warned.

We thanked the vet and hurriedly bundled the lizards and our son back into the car. He was glad everything was going to be okay.

"I know Ernie's really thankful for what you've done, Dad," he told me.

"Oh, you have NO idea," I said.

Closed mouth, my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.


Moral of the story - finish biology class - lizards lay eggs!

Mindless Automaton Returns

Jessica McBride (McBucher, Bucher, McSykes ... take your pick) reprises her role of Mindless Automaton in the latest from Tom Tomorrow ... and "whallah" here it is below. Click on the picture and "whallah" it will enlarge (h/t to Xoff for inspiration).

Next week, Jessica continues her foreign language lessons for conservatives. Guess what this tranlates to from what language ... Off Weinersane.

Bob Gaastra (Lightning)

As soon as I had finished writing the previous blog post, I went to e-mail and discovered some incredibly bad news. My friend, Bob Gaastra, otherwise known as "Lightning" passed away August 7.

Bob had MS and had been confined to a wheelchair most of his adult life. He had a biting humor; a unique voice that was imitated with affection; was an avid baseball fan (we made numerous trades in our rotisserie league) and was a very good friend. There are friends of mine who were closer and had known Bob longer, and for them I feel especially saddened.

Thanks for being my friend, Bob.

It's a Girl

Ian (my soon to be 11-year old) won't be happy, but we found out today that baby Rock is a girl. It had been recommended that we go to see a specialist because, after a blood test three weeks ago, the chance of Down Syndrome was said to be slightly higher (in part due to our ages ... I am 50 and Kelly to be 39).

The specialist did an hour long exam of Kelly using ultrasound and was able to determine (not with 100 percent certainty) that the baby is healthy and progressing well.

Ultrasound photos to follow on a later blog. For now, got to get outside to weed gardens and cut lawn for the big birthday bash this weekend.

Run, Tom, Run!

An MSNBC article regarding the fight to have Tom DeLay’s name removed from the November ballot is a little confusing. The headline for the articles states “Scalia asked to block DeLay ruling.” The body of the article does not state as such, instead it states that, “Texas Republican Party chairwoman Tina Benkiser requested a delay of the appeals court ruling until Republicans can formally ask the Supreme Court to review the case.”

It’s a big difference. If the GOP has actually gone to Scalia, personally, and asked that the appeals court ruling blocked … well, so much for the Supreme Court retaining any sense of impartiality. It’s obvious the GOP knows they have a friend in Scalia.

Or not, who can really say? I do not know how requests to the Supreme Court are made. Not having the time to delve into this further, I will simply say that I hope the headline is inaccurate … but it’s probably not.


Update: Ah, the headline is somewhat misleading. Scalia presides over the 5th Circuit, so appeals go to him first. Then, for the case to proceed, four justices have to agree to accept the appeal, or, in an expedited appeal, it could be done on the authority of Chief Justice John Roberts.

This should be interesting. Obviously, the Democrats want to keep DeLay on the ballot. He is just a bit vulnerable. Read the rest here.

The Attack of the Killer McBucher

Oh no! A comment I made on Xoff's blog about the ubiquitous Jessica McBucher made its way into her blog. Of course, she cherry-picked from the comment and suggested we liberals are just a bit sexist. Coming from a racist bully, insensitive to any religion but her own, who writes like a juvenile, and whose only ambition is to accrue power regardless of the cost ... it's really very funny.

War Sucks

h/t to Bob Harris at This Modern World.

Beirut before and after the bombing. Click image to enlarge.














Oh, before anyone gets bent out of shape, if I had pictures of Israeli areas hit by rockets I would show them too. War sucks, regardless of which side you belong.

Rip It Up!

Two can play at this game, though h/t to Fraley’s Daily Takes for the idea. Got to give credit where credit is due.


No lack of conservatives in action at the State Fair this year. Here is a conservative schedule of far-right events at the Republican Party booth..

August 3
Come join the KKK and learn how to cut those eyeholes in the right place so the white hood fits perfectly.

August 4
Corporate welfare. Lend a hand and fork over a few dollars … help our multi-nationals out of some tough times.

August 5
Unsure how to write in an over-the-top fashion. Members of the Badger Blog Alliance will be on hand to help you put those words to screen. Don’t expect spelling help, though.

August 6
This should be frightening. Jessica McBride sings her favorites. Visit the WTMJ booth to hear these classics …from the Boss: ”Born to Run Like my Husband Paul,” a timeless Beatles classic: “Hey Paul, my husband,” Santana: Black Magic Woman Shot in Merton,” and, of course from Elton John: “Saturday Night’s All Right for my husband Paul.”

August 7
Join Scot Jensen and ruminate about the good old days. Tour a mock up of his jail cell to be.

August 8
Steve King autograph session. Run a gauntlet of pistol-whipping thugs to get his autograph. Some fun.

August 9
Be like George W. Lobotomies done for free at the WTMJ booth.

August 10
Watch the action as Paul Bucher tours the grounds rounding up illegal aliens while giving a bull whip demonstration.

August 11
Come see Glenn Grothman and Owen Robinson as they speak to young rape victims, telling them to endeavor to persevere and explaining how Grothman and Robinson’s decision that the young mothers’ should be forced to carry the fruit of their harrowing, painful and disgusting experience really isn’t personal.

August 12
Definition of hate mail to conservatives explained. Hint: Anything written that they disagree with.

August 13
Come watch as James Wigderson, Rick Esenberg, dad29, Clint, Paddy Mac, Charlie Sykes and Owen Robinson kick off the final day of State Fair with a reasonable rendition of the Radio City Rockettes’ kick line. They’ll be hot … and bothered.

No Lack of Media Coverage

It continues to boggle my mind that the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee keeps Jessica McBride on its payroll. One would think the university would want a professional journalist to teach its classes rather than a political hack, one who is especially adept at tooting her own horn and that of her husband, Waukesha County DA Paul Bucher. Witness her recent screed in the Waukesha Freeman. Her piece is titled “Where’s the beef?” And she begins thusly:

Quick pop quiz: What did you think about the big debate in the Waukesha County district attorney’s race the other day?

You know, over that important issue? Oh, that’s right, I forgot. There wasn’t a big debate. And no one’s writing about the issues.

Quick pop quiz: Do you even know who’s running for Waukesha County district attorney?

Answer: No, it’s not my husband.

At this point I began to chuckle, and my chuckling wasn't because the last paragraph contained at least two sentence fragments. Two short paragraphs later we are graced with this gem:

There’s a pretty crucial changing of the guard under way in law enforcement right now and not only in Waukesha County, but you wouldn’t know it from the media coverage. Between them, my husband, Waukesha County District Attorney Paul Bucher ….

And then, in the paragraph, Jessica strikes again with another overdose of unprofessionalism:

Both will be hanging up their hats in November. My husband is running for state attorney general ….

In a piece ostensibly about the lack of media coverage for campaigns in Wisconsin, Jessica manages to wiggle herself and/or her husband's name into nearly every race. Sorry, no lack of media coverage here. McBride manages to plug herself and her hubby enough times in one column for an entire week’s worth of column inches.

From the lack of an identifiable media source, I’m assuming that she is speculating about an alleged lack of coverage from the Journal Sentinel (certainly not the Waukesha Freeman or WTMJ, the paper and radio station she shills for). I did a quick search at JS Online and found that since July 26, there have been at least ten instances where Bucher’s name (her husband, in case anyone was unclear) was mentioned. Additionally, there have been ten instances in which Peg Lautenschlager (the current attorney general) was mentioned and – how unfair is this – only six times that J.P Van Hollen (Bucher’s primary opponent and the husband of Jessica McBride) was mentioned. The dastardly media is overlooking his campaign.

Well, I have heard through the grapevine that Jessica is now going to start writing sports stories … straight reporting … because, you know, there is really not enough media coverage of herself and her husband. Here is an example:

Chris Carpenter failed again, not because of my husband, Paul Bucher who is running for attorney general for the state of Wisconsin, but because of a lack of media coverage and because he didn’t pitch very well. All this led to the St. Louis Cardinals losing to the Milwaukee Brewers, the team from the same state as my husband, 4-3, Friday night.

The 2005 NL Cy Young (who is this Cy Young and why is he getting media coverage?) winner left Friday night's game with an injury to the thumb on his pitching hand that put a scare into a team already on the skids. My husband Paul, on the other hand is healthy. Oh right, I forgot, Carpenter’s right thumb was swollen, although X-rays indicated no break.

"He took that ball right off the top of his thumb and he's got quite a bit of swelling," manager Tony La Russa said. La Russa sounds kind of, you know, Mexican, and my husband has a program for illegal aliens.

Oh, by the way, Prince Fielder, a favorite of Paul, my husband, because we like African-Americans in the Town of Merton, went 3-for-4 with a two-run home run and Tony Graffanino had three hits and an RBI to help the Brewers beat Carpenter, who was on the mound the night the Cardinals stopped their earlier eight-game skid.

The Cardinals have been outscored 54-29 during the slump, and their division lead was shaved to 2½ games over Cincinnati. In the first seven losses, the Cardinals lost only one game off their lead, something Paul, my husband has no knowledge because, you know, like, he leads in the race for attorney general in Wisconsin despite the lack of media coverage.

Saturday Note

What I will not tolerate here is vile and vulgar name-calling. A fellow blogger from the right side of the cheddarsphere left a message earlier today. To his credit, he removed it at 5:53 am. What he doesn't realize is I have my site set up to read all comments as e-mails additionally.

No reason to display who this fellow was but, these types of comments will be removed and the blogger banned. You can rip into me, or my beliefs, all you want as long as you keep a civil tongue.

Last thing: From all accounts this guy is not a bad person. He took offense to a post I made earlier, it wasn't even directed at him. I tried to mollify the effect with a fun story in which he was involved, apparently he couldn't figure out the joke. Others did.

Oh well.

Slow Friday ... No Clint

Another fine day in Brookfield. Went golfing today ... the first time all summer. I have been healing ligaments in both elbows (golfer's elbow the doctor said) for 10 months now. Went out yesterday to the driving range and today for nine holes at Currie. Didn't do too poorly ... a little erratic but birdied number 9 to finish with a first time out 46.

On another note ... saw that the prices for nine and 18 haven't changed much. Mentioned that to the fellow working behind the desk. His response was something we both agreed on ... smart move by [Scott] Walker to keep prices the same. Most golfers are Republican, so it's said (watch out, I have to duck now).

The wife came home early today. She wasn't feeling well. I did the best I could and am now going to put her to bed.

Not feeling so anxious to comment about stuff these days. One gets tired of fending off the idiots.

I have new respect, however, for dad29. Nine kids! Whew. Enough to make anyone crabby and juuust a little authoritative. He wants to meet my Dad and together attempt to reprogram me, but I have to pay the bar tab, he says. I like tequila and Dad likes manhattans.

My old man and I haven't seen eye to eye for quite a few years. I see no reason to change and don't think dad29's efforts will have any effect. But he's thoughtful to try.

Just Rambling ...

A friend suggested the name, Clint, for our baby if it's a boy. No! A man's got to know his limitations. Some don't have a clue and destroy their own arguments while trying to make one. It's so easy to refute neocons. Consequently, nope to Clint.

Kids back on Sunday. Will take them to the zoo or to State Fair. Ian's birthday on the 12th. He turns eleven. He's growing up way too fast.

Just Some Wednesday Thoughts

Now that I've finished painting myself Morning Shade Blue, I'm going to continue the attempt to put some of that paint on the bathroom walls. I appreciate people who do this professionally a lot more than I did yesterday.

My 1994 Ford Tempo (I just can't give it up ... runs like a charm and is paid for) is beginning to feel its age. I was informed by the mechanic at BP on Lilly and Capital that it was likely that the shoulder seatbelt gizmo had probably slipped a gear. He said it would cost $200-300 to have it repaired.

Now, everytime I open or close the door, this awful, loud, gurgling sound crows from the side. Of course, the seat belt doesn't budge.

The sound eventually dies off so I'm not stuck driving down the road. People might think I was listening to a new form of music, or Gregorian Chants (sorry dad29 ... just a joke). Actually, I like Gregorian Chants. My father was in the seminary for five years and brought that love of his along with a severely conservative view of life to our family. He also told the best dinnertime jokes.

That causes me to recall sitting at the dinner table one evening when Dad suddenly asked everyone to be quiet, and then asked if someone could explain why there were apple peelings stuck to the wall at its juncture with the ceiling. No one had a clue.

Well ... I did. It was a result of the one and only party that I ever held when the parents were gone. My friend Craig thought it would be funny to toss the pot of cold coffee my way, so I started pelting him with apples. Soon everyone joined in.

That was 30 years ago approximately. Damn.

Baby is still cooking well in the mommy tummy. Heard some news that due to Kelly's advanced age (for having children) a recent blood test said that the chance for a Down Syndrome child was slightly higher. We had already made the decision that regardless of what genetic tests might reveal, we would continue the pregnancy ... unless, of course, harm would come to Kelly.

Still, for the child's sake, we continue to hope for the best. We will love the child regardless.

Oh, I really enjoy reading other blogs and finding new ways to say things. Rick Esenberg, at Shark and Shepherd, has come up with one ... Gumpian ... referring to someone imitating Forrest Gump's ability to be where the action is. Good one!

The Dark and Stormy Night Happened Thursday

I couldn't sleep very well last night because of a dream I was having. My wife woke me up because of my tossing and turning and asked what the matter was. I told her my dream.

I woke up in the middle of the night because I heard strange noises. Not the same kind of strange noises our goofy dogs make, but different ... faint screaming noises.

I looked over to you. You apparently couldn't hear a thing over your snoring ... sorry. Anyway, you were sound asleep. I quietly got out of bed, opened and closed the door softly and walked into the living room. Max and Molly were nowhere to be seen.

I went into the bathroom, where Max usually sleeps (by the ac duct). He wasn't there either. I softly called to them and heard both of them shuffle into the living room from the kitchen. Both were whimpering softly, which if you know our dogs, is quite a feat. Neither is normally able to speak at anything less than the decibel level of a jet taking off from Mitchell Field.

I patted their heads and walked to the kitchen. I saw that there was a light coming up from the basement. Hmmm, I thought. I know I turned the light off earlier. I listened at the top of the stairs, and heard a chorus of squeaks. It sounded like Ian's gerbils.

You know how two of the five gerbils will get into a little tussle and some complaints will be heard. But the noise was nothing like that. I walked downstairs, turned the corner and peered into the gerbil cages.

The gerbils were thrashing about, not fighting, on their woodchip floor. I took off the cover and reached in to grab one to see what the matter was and it bit me. I looked closer and I saw the reason why ....

Each gerbil had a black “W” branded on its back.

“Oh my god, " I said to myself. "What happened here?”

I looked around and saw nobody, but I noticed that a light was peeking under the door to the laundry room. Leaving the wounded gerbils for a moment, I reached over and grabbed my 4-wood from the golf bag sitting behind the bar, walked to the door and slowly opened it.

I heard some noise ... some grunting. I peeked around the door and over on the other side of the room I saw four shadows thrown up against the wall.

"Who are you?" I asked.

The four figures turned around. They were hideous. They had sloping foreheads, a prominent ridge above their eyebrows and they were very hairy. They looked like what I would suppose neandertals would look like. The scariest thing was each had a "W" seared into their foreheads.

I took a step toward them. I don't know why. I'm really not that brave, especially with just a 4-wood ... now if I had grabbed my 3-iron ....

Anyway, they turned and somehow found a way up the wall and out what I had thought were locked basement windows. In fact, when I ran to the windows, I found they were locked.

I was baffled by their escape, why they were in my basement and why my son's gerbils were branded. I was also baffled by the bags of George W. Bush Quick-Grow Grass Seeds ... Just What Every Liberal Home Owner Needs.

"Where the hell did these come from?" I looked closer at the bags ... three were empty ... and read more of the print: Just plant the day before a heat wave and the grass will grow like magic. Watch in amusement as the liberal has to cut the grass in 95 degree heat.

"Ok. This is very strange."

I walked back upstairs and went back into the bedroom. At this point, you woke me up.

"How did the seeds get there," Kelly asked.

“I don't know. It's funny, though. Just the other day … I’m probably just getting paranoid, I thought I saw one of the local conservative bloggers, his name is Clint, drive by in a truck with a big W painted on its side.”

“Did he have a chubby face with a beard?”

“Yeah.”

As my wife gets out of bed and walks to the windows to open them, she says, “I saw him too. He drove by the meat market across the street a few times. Some guy in a white coat was out there too. He looked like a scientist."

"I can't imagine why a scientist and a conservative would be seen together ... a meat market? That’s weird. There's no meat market across the street."

“Uh. There is now. And, by the way, I think you need to cut the grass again.”

Give it a Rest

This has been an interesting couple of days. I wrote a post about this blockhead driver who kicked up some stones and dust around Muslim friends of mine, and speculated about his conservatism because he had a “W” sticker. I called him vulgar. I equated him with comments made by Jessica McBride. And suddenly, my cup runneth over in the form of comments from the right side of the blogosphere.

These comments range from the direct response of one a bit brighter than the others (dad29), to one who comments before reading the entire post and consequently is somewhat disingenuous in his response (Clint), then to Michael J. Cheaney who asks whether he can be equated with the aforementioned Jessica McBride (I guess so), and finally the inimitable Chris … nuff said there.

So, I guess my speculation hit a nerve.

It’s never nice to have your inner workings revealed. My personal feeling is each and every one of the responders should probably look deep inside and see whether their protestations may not be masking some deeper illness.

I looked deep down myself and decided that I could really care less. You see, after years of taking it on the chin and listening to these clowns hee haw up and down the street about liberals, I don’t feel like apologizing. Not a one of my posts in which I exaggerate (yes, I admit it, I am exaggerating) the vileness of conservatives do I ever make any violent threats of any kind. But this type of “humor” is apparently just all right (emphasis on right).

Anyway, I have dinner to make and a lovely wife to feed and so, to my responders, you are boring. Cry your crocodile tears, take two aspirin and get some sleep. I’ll be back tomorrow with some more for you.

Incautious Driving

Our street, Fiebrantz Drive, is currently under re-construction. They are raising the road four inches and it is a few days short of being paved. Orange cones stand guard everywhere over raised manholes, which has turned our drive into a motocross zone. Consequently, as my wife Kelly, our two young children, the goofy dogs and I were taking a walk earlier tonight, we were very cautious about cars driving by and hoping the drivers were cautious too.

I heard something behind us, turned, and saw a blue SUV-type vehicle making its way toward us. It slowed down and carefully drove around. We moved over to the side for good measure. No problem there. A good neighbor! It was moving so slowly I noticed the "W 2004" sticker on its back bumper. Hmmm. Even conservatives, I thought humorously to myself, have good manners.

I looked up and saw our neighbors, Aysha, Amir and their four-year and one-year old sons about a quarter mile ahead. They are from Pakistan, are Muslim, and are our very good friends.

I watched as the SUV approached them, suddenly sped up, kicked up a cloud of dust, and whipped around an orange cone near the family. I saw Amir look at the passing SUV.

When we met by our driveways, I asked what had happened. Amir acknowledged that the car had sped up for no reason. It did frighten his little ones somewhat, but no one was the worse for wear.

I know exactly why the driver of the SUV sped up. He a racist thug who thinks that every Muslim is better dead and anyone who doesn't agree is a traitor to his country. His attitude is no different from that of Jessica McBride, or any of the other neocon thugs who travel the blogosphere, or make their homes on Fox News and spout their banalities to the nodding sheep in their audience.

One local blogger brags about a friend of his who recently got married. He brags that his friend is so brave because he says stuff this local blogger only dreams of saying. I linked over to that site. The person is a vulgar bully. Every other word is a cuss word and his brave actions include paving over the Middle East, and killing liberal traitors simply because they disagree with his twisted ideas about America.

I am not indicting conservatives. There are many thoughtful ones out there. But the ugly ones ... not much difference between their actions and those of Fred Phelps, in my opinion.

I'm so tired of them.

Carlos Lee Trade Unsatisfactory

A good write up at ESPN by Keith Law regarding the Milwaukee Brewers’ trade of Carlos Lee to Texas. He says ...

… The Brewers' haul is more quantity than quality. The club now has an option on Francisco Cordero for 2007 at $5 million, and could install him as their closer for the next year and a half, pushing the ineffectively wild Derrick Turnbow out of that role and perhaps into middle relief or on to another club. Cordero lost his job as Texas' closer with a rough April, but has pitched very well as the set-up man to Akinori Otsuka (who blew the save on Wednesday against the Yanks). Cordero is a free agent after 2007.

Mench has good raw power, but his results in the games haven't been good. His practical power isn't enough for a corner outfielder, and he's hit for more power at Ameriquest Field (generally a good park for home runs) than on the road. He's also never shown any ability to get on base. On the plus side, he has very good range in a corner outfield spot and is fringe-average in center. He's under Milwaukee's control through the end of 2008. Laynce Nix is an excellent defensive center fielder who can't hit a lick, and Julian Cordero is a 21-year-old lefty with a hard, sinking fastball and no idea what he's doing on the mound.

Read the entire article here (if you have Insider access).

I have to agree. It seems to me the Brewers are using mirrors if they say this is a good deal. I think GM Doug Melvin panicked. Melvin says the Brewers have not given up on this year and the acquisition of players who can play now proves that. I don’t agree. Especially when we give up our top-rated outfielder, Nelson Cruz, in the trade. Heck, the Rangers think so highly of him he’s starting in right field tonight.

And now we've added a $5M closer. I don’t know what other teams were offering. It seems that with two days to go before the deadline, the Brewers could have waited, played a few contenders off against the other and come away with something better.

Melvin has been good so far, so I guess he deserves the benefit of the doubt. But if this deal was made purely to sugarcoat losing Lee and give the impression the Brewers are still hopeful this year, then they failed miserably.

It would have been better to acknowledge this year was done, and get quality instead of quantity.

Right-Wing Nonsense

It really is pathetic that some righties have the audacity to claim they are god-fearing Christians and then call for the flattening of a section of the Middle East and turning it into a parking lot.

And for the clueless righties out there, that statement does not mean a love for or support of the terrorists. It merely states that issuers of statements like the one above are thugs … as thuggish as the terrorists they claim to so despise.

Conservative Hate Speech

Does anyone honestly think that conservative hate speakers such as Ann Coulter, Michele Malkin, Glenn Beck, Neil Boortz , Rush Limbaugh, etc. have nothing to do with the increase in threats made to federal judges? Or is it just a wild coincidence?

WASHINGTON - Threats against federal judges are on a record-setting pace this year, nearly 18 months after the family of a federal judge was killed in Chicago.

… Threats and inappropriate communications have quadrupled over 10 years ago. There were 201 reported such incidents in the 1996 government spending year and 943 in the year that ended Sept. 30, the Marshals Service said.

... Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg revealed in February that she and former Justice Sandra Day O’Connor were threatened a year ago by someone who called on the Internet for the immediate “patriotic” killing of the justices.

Read the entire article.

George the Magician

by Stephanie McMillan

In Support of Bryan Kennedy

An Evening with Senator Russ Feingold in support of Bryan Kennedy’s Campaign for Congress.

When: August 9th, 6pm-9:30pm
Where: BARROW & JUAREZ Gallery
207 E. Buffalo Street – Suite 14 – Lower Level
Historic Third Ward, Milwaukee

Suggested donation: $50 – all donations graciously accepted!

For more information, please contact Bridget Dooley at (414) 431-3693 or bridget@bk2006.org
Bryan is a democratic candidate running against Jim Sensenbrenner in Wisconsin's fifth district.

Duh # 2,346

"I think -- tide turning -- see, as I remember --I was raised in the desert, but tides kind of -- it's easy to see a tide turn -- did I say those words?"

-- George W. Bush

Two Sides to Every Story

Your heart just has to break to see these Shiite children in Lebanon smiling and writing “messages” on the rockets that soon will devastate Israeli homes. What kind of sick society produces little girls who exult in the infliction of pain against people they’ve never met?














And look at the woman in the background, presumably their mother—clearly she approves! Sadly, until the Arabs let go of their culture of incitement and rage, I’m afraid there’s no concession Israel can ever make that will bring peace with these people.

Oops. Sorry. Faster than Jessica McBride nodding her head in agreement at the previous statement, let me just say that these were not Arab children. They were Israeli children.

It's sad, really, that any child, from any culture, be introduced to this kind of sadism. Kids should be allowed to be kids. There are too many who have had to grow up way too fast. And, unfortunately, some not given that opportunity at all.

h/t Jonathon Schwarz (the piece in italics is his)

Virgins With Guns

A true story.

In the war against terrorism, right-wing bloggers soon determined they needed their version of heavenly virgin(s) to incite their followers to fight harder. They thought and thought. Fred Phelps' women-folk were rejected. Shrill harpies with no chance for some action.

Ann Coulter was considered. But she's a man so that wouldn't work.

Michele Malkin was considered, too. But exiting this world to escape the mind-numbing screeching of their current partners was half the reason they were considering this course of action. Why ask for more trouble.

So they thought harder. Blood began oozing from ears everywhere on the right side of the cheaddarsphere.

Finally, these ideas were formed.

1) They must be virgins.
2) We like guns.

Heaven has been determined. Right-wing bloggers will soon be leaping, armageddon-like, into the spiritual realm to reap their reward for knuckleheadedness. See below ...














Thanks to my friends at The Original Above the Border Line (Chris' favorite blog).

I Drink, I Fall Down, I Get Up ... No Problem

Nothing to add to this. It speaks for itself.

--by William Rivers Pitt

George W. Bush is a good man, word has it. He's plain-spoken, they say. A regular fella. A good guy to have a beer with, except he supposedly doesn't drink anymore.

I wish, more than anything, that he were drinking. I wish he were drinking all the time. I wish, oh how I wish, that he were stand-up-fall-down-ralphing-down-his-shirt loaded every minute of every day. It would be a comfort, simply because it would explain a great many things.

Having a drunk for a president is, after all, a fixable situation. Put him to bed at Camp David for a few weeks and surround him with Secret Service agents. Let his body clean itself out. Problem solved, and really, would anyone actually notice his absence?

I don't believe Bush has gotten off the sauce, if truth be told. I know more than a few boozers who, like George, periodically show up with odd wounds on their faces they got from falling over or running into walls. The injuries that appear on George's mien from time to time can perhaps be explained away - maybe Dick Cheney is stalking the halls with a shotgun loaded with rock salt and blasting anyone, even the boss, who gets in his way - but if "George still drinks" were up on the big board at the MGM Grand sports book, I'd take the bet no matter what the oddsmakers had to say.

Having a drunk for a president is manageable. Having a stone bozo for a president, on the other hand, is a calamity of global proportions.

Let's take a walk through the last few days. George winged off to Russia for trade talks at the G-8 summit, and managed in the course of 100 hours to embarrass himself and our entire country. Russian President Vladimir Putin, who is smarter than Bush by several orders of magnitude, insulted George in front of the international press corps with a tight quip about "democracy" in Iraq. No trade deal got done. The whole thing was a humiliating waste of time, captured best by all the photos of Bush and Putin together. In each and every one of them, Putin is looking at George with an expression that somehow conveyed disgust, disdain and awe simultaneously.

Putin's disgust and disdain are easily understood - the poor guy was trapped in a room with our knucklehead president for hours, after all - but the awe requires notice. What, Putin must have thought, is this fool doing running a country?

After that came the much-noted open-mike gaffe, during which George dropped an s-bomb while discussing the Middle East crisis with British Prime Minister Tony Blair. The cussing doesn't trouble me - those who know say that John F. Kennedy swore like a sailor whenever he talked shop - but the rest of the scene was like something out of a high school cafeteria. Bush sat there, talking with what looked like seventeen doughnuts stuffed into his gob, while poor Tony tried to discuss matters of life and death.

You have to listen to the audio to get a full grasp of what transpired. It wasn't just the dialogue. It was the tone in Blair's voice. He sounded for all the world like a teacher attempting to explain something to an exceptionally dull student. His tone suggested infinite patience and a touch of true sadness, as if he could not quite believe he was speaking this way to an American president.

"It takes him eight hours to fly home," said George at one point during the open-mike massacre. "Eight hours. Russia's big and so is China." He was, presumably, speaking to someone about Chinese President Hu Jintao's travel requirements, but really now. Huffington Post writer Cenk Uygur captured the unbelievable vapidity of the discourse.

"Russia's big and so is China?" exclaimed Uygur. "This guys sounds like a third grader. Do you know anyone who would have a conversation like this with their neighbor, let alone a business associate, let alone a world leader? Who's proud to know that Russia is big and so is China? If someone is this ignorant, they're usually embarrassed and try not to talk much. But this guy is so dumb he has no idea how dumb he is. This sounds like a conversation you might have with a child, a mentally challenged child. Johnny, do you know how big Russia is? How about China? This would all be unfortunate if George were your dentist, or worse yet, your accountant. But he is the leader of the free world. This man makes life or death decisions every day. If you say you're not scared about that, you're lying."

Then came the pig-roast thing. Newsday described it best: "As Israeli warplanes were preparing an attack on Lebanon Thursday afternoon, and a Lebanese militia was aiming a rocket at the ancient Israeli city of Safed, President George W. Bush was bantering with reporters in Germany about a pig. Bush kept bringing up the roast wild boar he was about to dine on at a banquet that night, even when asked about the swelling crisis in the Middle East, where pig meat is forbidden to religious Jews and Muslims. 'Does it concern you that the Beirut airport has been bombed?' a reporter asked. 'And do you see a risk of triggering a wider war?' 'I thought you were going to ask me about the pig,' Bush replied blithely. Then he brought the pig up again - for the fifth time - before giving a long answer that ended with his saying Israel needed to protect itself."

After this came the moment when George tried to give German Chancellor Angela Merkel a back massage while she was speaking to someone at the summit table. He sidled up behind her and just started rubbing. Merkel's reaction was instantaneous and dramatic: she flinched, flailed her arms up and basically waved the president of the United States away from her. Her reaction would have been no different if Bush had dropped a live catfish down the back of her shirt.

What's next? Will George go to the United Nations, sit on Kofi Annan's head, and fart like some bratty brother tormenting a sibling? Will the cameras catch him playing penny hockey during Middle East peace negotiations? You can't say it'll never happen. It reminds me of the scene from "Caddyshack" where the golfers are hiding in the bushes and betting on whether the Smails kid picks his nose. It is not too farfetched a concept to believe that the other G-8 leaders were doing something very similar while watching Bush.

There were, by my count, no less than twenty different moments in the last few days where George brought shame and disgrace upon this country. He did not do this by being too tough, or too soft, or too strident. He did this simply by being himself. His head is an echo chamber where very stupid bats roost. He has the intellect of a bag of rocks. Maybe it's impolite to say this, but it has to be said.

And yeah, Mr. Uygur, it is really, really scary. I wish the man were a drunk. I'd sleep better, and so would the world.

Comedy Relief

One more thing before I go out to enjoy the day. This from Molly Ivins regarding SCOTUS (Supreme Comic of the United States).

AUSTIN, Texas -- Never let it never be said our president does not provide laughs, even as we wobble on the rim of war in the Middle East.

Look what a good time Vladimir Putin had with him. Bush, responding to questions from the international press corps on his conversation with Putin the previous evening, said, "I talked about my desire to promote institutional change in parts of the world like Iraq, where there is a free press and free religion, and I told him that a lot of people in our country, you know, would
hope that Russia would do the same thing."

Putin, with a fairly straight face, replied, "We certainly would not like to have the same of kind of democracy they have in Iraq, I'll tell you that quite honestly." Don't you hate it when the international press corps laughs at what a stoop Bush is? Bush, who fancies himself something of a fast-reply artist, said, "Just wait." Heh, heh.

The rest is hilarious.

What isn't so funny is that Bush represents our country. Can't wait for 2008.

Missing Link

This from Associated Press:

BERLIN - U.S. and German scientists on Thursday launched a two-year project to decipher the genetic code of the Neanderthal, a feat they hope will help deepen understanding of how modern humans' brains evolved.

Previous studies have “… suggested that Neanderthals and humans split from a common ancestor a half-million years ago.” And some have concluded, based on that evidence, that Neanderthals were an evolutionary dead end.

However, other scientists now believe that Neanderthals may not have died off. With the decoding of the Neanderthal genome, scientists hope to determine why evolution seemed to take a step backward with the mutation of the modern conservative.

Bloggers Everywhere

Meanwhile, here’s a link to a great article by Jack Shafer over at Slate. He asks the question: “Who Are All These Bloggers? And What Do They Want?” Shafer notes that 57 million Americans now claim to blog. That’s incredible.

I have 200+ links to other sites that I mean to install on mine, just haven’t gotten around to it (I like to collect links). Anyway, I hope the two or three readers of my site will find the article interesting.

No More Intimidation

A little over a week ago, I had a short blog conversation with my erstwhile friend dad29. He was responding to my post titled “Payback,” in which I bemoaned the classless actions of conservative bloggers who published names and other personal information of their liberal foes and suggested that a little visit might be in order. To be succinct: Intimidation tactics.

Dad29 responded by stating that Jim McGuigan of Milwaukee Watchdog had once published dad’s personal information … apparently in response to a comment that he made. Knowing dad29 all too briefly, I’m guessing the comment was dark and poisonous (well, maybe not but the line sounded good). Nonetheless, I agreed that if this was indeed true (I see no reason to disbelieve dad29, he does not appear to be as thuggish as some of his mates) then McGuigan had crossed the line.

Dad29 then provided a link to an article that reported on some purported intimidation tactics by a gay group called KnowThyNeighbor in Massachusetts. Apparently, this group published the names and zip codes of people who had signed petitions for the right’s latest gimmick, a protection of marriage amendment. One person who signed was confronted and called a “bigot” while others reported being called “breeders.” Both sides of this issue are now engaging in discussions about “hate speech” and the townspeople are discussing how to live peacefully with each other.

The point is that emotions are running high. While it was not illegal for KnowThyNeighbor to publish the names and addresses (the petitions are public record), it is deplorable that people be confronted in such a disrespectful manner, though I think dad29 would be hard pressed to find this sort of intimidation tactic used by leftys.

In the end it is not acceptable for anyone to put anyone at risk, just because you don’t like what they have to say.

Don’t shoot, dad.

The March of the Mindless Automatons

Inspired by Jessica McBride, thousands of like-minded and self-professed Christian women have declared their intent to follow their fearless leader where bloggers have not gone before. Determined to mangle sentence structure; defy grammar; refuse to read books, but comment on them nonetheless; malign other peoples’ faiths; imply reverse racism where there is none; refuse to separate fact from fiction, ignore the strictures of journalism and provide humorous fodder for liberals everywhere, these women have formed their own army … the Jessica Brigade of Mindless Automatons. Beware, the hair brigade is looking for you.


H/t to Xoff and Brew City Brawler, and special acknowledgement to Tom Tomorrow.

















PS: Ever notice that profession of one's Christian faith seems to give these people leave to say the most un-Christian things?

Baby News

This from my lovely wife, the beautiful Ms. Kelly ...

We had a baby appointment on Friday and listened to the baby's heart beat. It definitely sounded like a galloping horse! Is that a sign of things to come? Still a fast heart beat at over 150. All else is fine. I'm a lot less tired, not sick at all, and not big yet, though my waistline is definitely gone.

I now think we're having a girl. Tim (just to argue with me) says it's a boy. We will make the appointment soon to find out. It'll be part of the genetic testing done in August. We still have to decide just how many tests we want done. We continue to weigh the risks of the tests against the value of the information they could provide.

Ian and Abby are having a great summer. My friend Draga took us out on their new pontoon boat last weekend. Even the new baby, Elijah, came with us and husband Steve, with his broken leg (don't ask!). Eli is 2 months old now and a very good baby. We had a lot of fun. I thought Ian might never come back on board the boat once he got in the water. Draga even let him drive - he was thrilled!

Ian had 4 weeks of individual cello lessons this summer. It was with a different instructor than during the school year and he really liked him. And he's now taking 4 weeks of a summer math class. Apparently (from Tim's account), his math teach is "very cute". That should help keep him motivated. And he never tires of playing with Evan across the street. They are best buddies.

Abby and I were out shopping yesterday and she picked out her first toy for the baby. She was very excited! She's been playing with Rayan (the little boy next door) and Alex (Evan's sister) all summer. If she doesn't play with a friend during the day, she gets very sad. She loves using Rayan's scooter and bike with training wheels (maybe it's time we get her one of those?!?!). Alex slept over for the first time this weekend. They played make-up and watched movies and giggled and giggled and giggled... I didn't even know what they were giggling about and I started giggling!

The addition will start soon. The contract is signed, the loan is closed and the building permit will be ready next week (if we actually are able to make the final decision about tile or fiberglass for the shower!). So many decisions yet to be made and so many choices yet to be seen.

Tim continues to do most of the work around here. He doesn't let me climb on ladders or stools or lift heavy things. Although he does like it when I cook occasionally. He's busy today with the photo show from Larchfest and the 50th birthday bash. It's going to turn out great!

The dogs... somehow we have to get Max settled down before the baby comes. Even though I'm not big yet, I have a hard time controlling both of them by myself when we meet another dog on our walks. Tim and I have been doing a lot more dog walking together. I wonder how it will work when we add a stroller (and baby!) to the mix.

I still can't believe we're going to have a baby this winter. And I can't believe my little sister is probably going to get married before the baby gets here. That and the addition seem like a lot to have happen in the next 6 months!

Oh, and the latest girl name is 'Megan'. 'Connor' has come up most recent as a boy's name. We're still taking ideas.

Hope all is well with you and yours. Please pass along our hellos and hugs to your families.

Love,
Kelly, Tim, Ian, Abby, Molly, Max and Baby Rock


Note to Jessica McBride: Rayan's parents are Muslim. I guess you wouldn't let your kids play with them, would you.

No Energy for Blogging

Too busy and too hot to blog today. Tomorrow, maybe.

Ignoring the Tears

This is priceless from Shana at From Behind the Cheddar Curtain. Regarding Indians and their “sovereignty” she says:

That “sovereignty” as you call it has caused more harm than good. Most of the people on the reservations are in horrible condition, often drunk and poor, living off of government checks. Those that have been ambitious enough to leave the reservations have done well for themselves, living mostly like the rest of us. Not perfect, but far better off than those living on the reservations. It probably wouldn’t hurt to take away some of that “sovereignty” and convince them to support themselves. They’d be far better off.

Unbelievable. This from a self-professed Christian. Do you think, Shana, that their ancestors for just one minute wouldn’t have preferred to give up that “sovereignty” and to have lived as they had on their own lands? Instead, forced to accept patches of land in return for peace (and the promise not to kill them off), they lived in a fashion totally foreign to what they were accustomed to, with no means for fending for themselves (do you think industry just miraculously popped up around them), and denigrated and hated by the surrounding whites.

You and many of your conservative brethren think it so easy for someone to just pull themselves up by their bootstraps and make themselves into something more like you. You, Shana, do not have the weight of centuries of abuse on your shoulders. You do not see the hate in other people’s eyes.

Shana, did you ever hear of or read about the “Trail of Tears?” Here is an example of Indians endeavoring to be more like us and what happened to them for their efforts.

The Cherokees in 1828 were not nomadic savages. In fact, they had assimilated many European-style customs, including the wearing of gowns by Cherokee women. They built roads, schools and churches, had a system of representational government, and were farmers and cattle ranchers. A Cherokee alphabet, the “Talking Leaves” was perfected by Sequoyah.

In 1830 the Congress of the United States passed the "Indian Removal Act." Although many
Americans were against the act, most notably Tennessee Congressman Davy Crockett, it passed anyway. President Jackson quickly signed the bill into law. The Cherokees attempted to fight removal legally by challenging the removal laws in the Supreme Court and by establishing an independent Cherokee Nation. At first the court seemed to rule against the Indians. In Cherokee Nation v. Georgia, the Court refused to hear a case extending Georgia's laws on the Cherokee because they did not represent a sovereign nation. In 1832, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in favor of the Cherokee on the same issue in Worcester v. Georgia. In this case Chief Justice John Marshall ruled that the Cherokee Nation was sovereign [emphasis mine], making the removal laws invalid. The Cherokee would have to agree to removal in a treaty. The treaty then would have to be ratified by the Senate.

By 1835 the Cherokee were divided and despondent. Most supported Principal Chief John Ross, who fought the encroachment of whites starting with the 1832 land lottery. However, a minority(less than 500 out of 17,000 Cherokee in North Georgia) followed Major Ridge, his son John, and Elias Boudinot, who advocated removal. The Treaty of New Echota, signed by Ridge and
members of the Treaty Party in 1835, gave Jackson the legal document he needed to remove the First Americans. Ratification of the treaty by the United States Senate sealed the fate of the Cherokee. Among the few who spoke out against the ratification were Daniel Webster and Henry Clay, but it passed by a single vote. In 1838 the United States began the removal to Oklahoma, fulfilling a promise the government made to Georgia in 1802. Ordered to move on the Cherokee, General John Wool resigned his command in protest, delaying the action. His replacement, General Winfield Scott, arrived at New Echota on May 17, 1838 with 7000 men. Early that summer General Scott and the United States Army began the invasion of the Cherokee Nation.

In one of the saddest episodes of our brief history, men, women, and children were taken from their land, herded into makeshift forts with minimal facilities and food, and then forced to march a thousand miles (Some made part of the trip by boat in equally horrible conditions). Under the generally indifferent army commanders, human losses for the first groups of Cherokee removed were extremely high. John Ross made an urgent appeal to Scott, requesting that the general let his people lead the tribe west. General Scott agreed. Ross organized the Cherokee into smaller groups and let them move separately through the wilderness so they could forage for food. Although the parties under Ross left in early fall and arrived in Oklahoma during the brutal winter of 1838-39, he significantly reduced the loss of life among his people. About 4,000 Cherokee died as a result of the removal. The route they traversed and the journey itself became known as "The Trail of Tears" or, as a direct translation from Cherokee, "The Trail Where They Cried" ("Nunna daul Tsuny").

It is said that President Andrew Jackson met with leaders of the Cherokee Nation. They did not plead or beg, but asked that he reconsider. His answer was “Endeavor to persevere.”

Shana, by one estimate, almost 15,000,000 Native American Indians were killed during the years white America occupied their lands. It's a fairly significant price don't you think?

Busy Busy Busy

Wow. Lots of action over here. Like the debate and appreciate dad29 (I've said some harsh things, but hey he's got pretty thick skin ... and so do I, bring it on), Clint and Billiam joining the fray.

However, more important things to do. Just got back from baby doctor visit with the lovely Mrs. Rock. The little one's heart is strong and racing like a horse. Too small for a run at Belmont.

Everything continues to go well. Mrs. Rock is beaming.

Kids coming over for a sleepover tonight. Gotta go to clean up the basement and buy the prerequisite junk food (pizza, soda and ice cream). It's just for one night so why not indulge them a little, especially at the ages of five and six.

Wisconsin: Second Most in Danger

Oh my, Jessica McBride has been right all along.

The National Asset Database was released Tuesday and little old Wisconsin is number two on the list by Homeland Security. Yes, Wisconsin has been identified to have more than twice the number of terrorist targets as the most populous state in the Union, California. The state that comes in first? Why, Indiana of course. Read on:

It reads like a tally of terrorist targets that a child might have written: Old MacDonald’s Petting Zoo, the Amish Country Popcorn factory, the Mule Day Parade, the Sweetwater Flea Market and an unspecified “Beach at End of a Street.

... In addition to the petting zoo, in Woodville, Ala., and the Mule Day Parade in Columbia, Tenn., the auditors questioned many entries, including “Nix’s Check Cashing,” “Mall at Sears,” “Ice Cream Parlor,” “Tackle Shop,” “Donut Shop,” “Anti-Cruelty Society” and “Bean Fest.” Even people connected to some of those businesses or events are baffled at their inclusion as possible terrorist targets.

“Seems like someone has gone overboard,” said Larry Buss, who helps organize the Apple and Pork Festival in Clinton, Ill. “Their time could be spent better doing other things, like providing security for the country.”

Angela McNabb, manager of the Sweetwater Flea Market, which is 50 miles from Knoxville, Tenn., said: “I don’t know where they get their information. We are talking about a flea market here.”

Anyway, someone let Jessica know. Please.

In the meanwhile, I have a suggestion to make us more secure. Perhaps our conservative blogger brethren (and Jessica) could line up along the borders with those terrorist havens of Minnesota, Illinois, and Michigan. You know, like the wall F.(at) James is recommending along the southern border of the U.S.

We then can drive by and wave, secure in the fact that conservatives have got our back.

A Proud Sister's Kiddies Take the Field

by Kate Rock

The evening of Tuesday, July 11, 2006 in Bay View, Wisconsin at the now infamous Lewis Field played host to the much anticipated baseball game, where the two Rock boys would play a game of baseball against each other.

My 9 year old son, Kiefer Rock, catcher, first basemen and pitcher for the 9/10 year old Nationals team, and also -- because of a player shortage -- center fielder for the 11/12 year old Padres team, has become a very productive hitter. My youngest son, Keaton Rock, 7 years old, pitcher, catcher, and third baseman for the 7/8 year old Bats, and newly acquired right fielder for the 9/10 year old Marlins, is also hitting the ball like a pro. Keaton has a solo home run this season with the Bats.

A couple of weeks ago, I learned that the Marlins needed a ball player. Gus, who is Keaton’s coach on the Bats, and the manager of the entire Bay View Area Redcats baseball program thought that Keaton would be ready to play with the older ball players in the 9/10 division. Gus asked what I thought about Keaton helping out the Marlins. I was concerned, but agreed with Gus that Keaton was a good ball player with a swift swing. Not to mention a great throwing arm. Afterwards, I joked with the boys that they may soon be playing against each other. The stage is set…

I worried all day long at work that the rain and thunderstorms predicted would cancel the big game. It was sprinkling as I picked up the boys at daycare. No messages left from any coaches that the games were cancelled on the answering machine at home.

The boys and I arrived at Lewis Field for the Bats/Timber Rattlers game, the first game of the double header. Kiefer and I played catch while we waited for the rest of the Bats team to arrive. The entire Timber Rattlers team were already to play. Unfortunately, only 4 Bats arrived. The coaches decided it would be just a practice game. Keaton was the starting pitcher for the Bats. Uncle Kevin arrived just before the practice game began and Keaton's mentors, Lynn and Greg (mentors through Big Brothers and Big Sisters) arrived around 6:45 p.m. and planned to stay for the much hyped Nationals/Marlins game which was to begin at the opposite field at 7:30 p.m.

Since the Bats/Timber Rattlers practice game started late, they were still playing when 7:30 p.m. rolled around. Across the field you could see the players assembling for the Nationals/Marlins game. One of the Marlin players ran onto the Bats field and asked Gus if Keaton could come to the other field and begin playing for the Marlins right away, because they were one player short. Gus told the Marlin player no. I believe this was the right decision, because Keaton has a commitment to the Bats team.

After the Bats/Timber Rattlers practice game was over, I quickly helped Keaton get his Marlin's shirt on (He asked me to put the blanket around him for privacy). I walked over to the other field and Keaton ran over to the Marlin bench. I looked over and I noticed that Kiefer was pitching. Kiefer has only pitched a couple of games for the Nationals and he was hoping to pitch tonight. His coach had promised Kiefer that he would be pitching again. I got to see Kiefer strike out a batter, which was their third out. I later learned that Kiefer had walked a couple batters, but no runs were scored.

Now the Nationals were up to bat for the first time. It started raining lightly about this time, and I was glad I brought the rain ponchos. When Kiefer was up to bat, he hit a double and two runs were scored. I believe that three runs were scored by the Nationals in that inning. The next inning Kiefer is pitching again and, who should come up to bat second, but my little Keaton guy. Keaton has a grin a mile long, and we are all cheering madly for him. The coaches on Kiefer's team finally realize that Kiefer is pitching to his little brother. Lots of buzzing in the stands and on the benches about the two Rock brothers playing against each other…someone quick call ESPN.

I don't recall the count, but the third pitch Kiefer throws it inside and hits Keaton in the shin and he starts hopping and tears start to flow. The coaches rush to Keaton’s side. Aunt Lisa who had arrived shortly after me with her daughter Kara and Kara’s friend Raoul, yelled out jokingly to Kiefer that he was grounded. Kiefer kinda grins in his own nervous way, and finally at our urging, checks on Keaton. Keaton says he is okay, and wipes his tears and trots off to first base.

The next batter is up and Keaton steals second, and on the following pitch steals third. He is a little antsy on third, I can tell he wants to steal home. He is not allowed to steal with his 7/8 year old Bats team. Kiefer throws a pitch and the catcher misses it and it rolls behind the catcher. I yell to Keaton to steal home, not thinking that there are two outs. He runs with all his might and has a perfect slide, but the catcher had picked up the ball quickly and throws the ball to Kiefer, who tags his little brother, and the ump calls Keaton out. (I realized right then I was wrong and I should not have urged Keaton to steal home.)

Now the Nationals are up to bat again and their own Damian Miller (who has met the Brewer's player of the same name) has a solo home run and the score is 4-1. The Marlins are able to get out of the inning without another run being scored. The Marlins are up to bat and now Damian is pitching for the Nationals. Several Marlins were walked and now the bases are loaded with two outs. Keaton gets up to bat, he hits several foul balls and it is a full count. Keaton has only been walked in his three games playing for the Marlins. I know that he can hit the ball, and he is anxious to get his first hit. Keaton’s coach tells him to hold the bat higher, so that he will swing the bat faster, and Keaton does as he is told. The pitch comes in and Keaton hits the ball and it bounces between first and second base and it rolls into the outfield. Keaton is safe at first base.

Kiefer is now playing first base and Keaton just smiles at Kiefer. Kiefer turns and looks at him and sticks out his tongue. Two more runs are scored and the game is tied 4-4. Keaton however, was stranded at third base when the third out was made. I contained myself this time and did not yell for Keaton to steal home.

The Nationals, being the home team, have the last at bat. Kiefer is the first batter. I discussed with family and friends around me that Kiefer generally hits the ball to left field. Kevin said that he has a hunch that Kiefer will hit it to his little brother in right field. One of Keaton's coaches tells Keaton to back up.

The first pitch is low and Kiefer swings and misses. The second pitch is high and Kiefer again swings and misses. The third pitch comes in and Kiefer hits a rocket out to right field over Keaton's head. Kiefer is running around the bases and we are enthusiastically cheering for him to go home. Keaton throws it to his cut off man, who then throws it home, but Kiefer is safe. It is Kiefer’s first official home run of the season and the Nationals win it 5-4. Their fourth straight win of the season.

It was an exciting game for the two Rock brothers and I will never forget it. Kiefer received his team's game ball, his second game ball of the season. Keaton was so happy that he got his first hit playing with the 9-10 year olds. There was no indication in Keaton’s demeanor that his team had lost.

With Friends Like These

Bob Dohnut, er, Dohnal, is a funny guy. Here is what he had to say about Glenn Grothman's decision not to run against Herb Kohl (spelling errors corrected).

There is nothing like an indecisive leader.

I like Glenn personally …

Glenn has a fabulous intellect, but can’t seem to figure out how to add 2 and 2.

Another wing-nut who is full of himself, and not very bright to boot.

Payback

Glenn Greenwald, a constitutional law attorney and chief blogger at Unclaimed Territory, paints a frightening picture of right-wing bloggers gone berserk. In similar fashion to local blogger Peter DiGaudio of Texas Hold’em Blogger (who thought it appropriate to publish e-mail addresses of people that he disagreed with), these whackos:

… find the home address and telephone number of the latest enemy and then publish it on the Internet, accompanied by impassioned condemnations of that person as a Grave Enemy, a race traitor, someone who threatens all that is good in the world. A handful of the most extremist pro-life groups have used the same tactic. It has happened in the past that those who were the target of these sorts of demonization campaigns that included publication of their home address were attacked and even killed.

There is no law against this sort of thuggish behavior. One hopes that local bloggers will condemn DiGaudio and these others who threaten the lives of people for no reason more than payback.

More Syd Barrett

Here's a link to an excellent obit written about the recently deceased, Syd Barrett.

My Tree of Liberty is Alive and Well

Master Metaphorist, Owen Robinson at Boots and Sabers, is at it again. And this time he seems to be advocating revolution. His latest column in the West Bend News is titled “The Withering Tree of Liberty,” and he waxes poetic about the demise of everything he believes in (because he and his group of true believers cannot convince others to vote en masse in similar fashion). Well, here’s some of what he says …

I can’t recall a good rebellion for the cause of liberty in any of the great Western democracies in the past century or more. I don’t mean a trifling riot here or there that telegraphs a healthy love of liberty. I mean a true insurrection with all of the blood and mayhem that such a societal upheaval entails.

We have not seen a 1688 or a 1776 or a 1793 in a great while. This void of revolutionary vigor in the historical timeline exists despite the fact that it could be easily argued and substantiated that the citizens of these democracies enjoy less liberty than they did in the age of Bossuetian Divine Rule.

In the United States, we have seen a steady erosion of liberty over the past several decades. For example, oppressive government restrictions on political activity, politely referred to as "campaign finance reform," have become the norm.

The government restricts how much and how often you or I can give money to a political candidate whom we support.

This is a bit disengenuous. Bi-partisan campaign reform was rammed through, but against the wishes of the most ardently conservative Republicans (like Robinson). Its major provisions had to do mostly with accountability, but they also were a brake on the big corporations who have in the past tried to buy elections and legislation.

It is now against federal law for a group of us to get together and run advertisements against an elected official within 60 days of an election. Wisconsin Right to Life went to the Supreme Court when they were forbidden from running a television ad that mentioned Sen. Feingold, and lost.

The regulations on why, how, when and what we say during political debates shows that we have abdicated any pretense of freedom when it comes to political speech.

Well, we agree here (somewhat, though I wouldn't go so far to say we've abdicated any pretense of freedom, that's really a bit extreme) and surprise, the ACLU does too.

The level of taxation in our nation would have brought the serfs of medieval Europe to revolt, yet we endure it - nay, we rejoice in it and christen it "progress."

Huh? For a moment there I saw a Shakespearean actor reciting his lines, hand raised to the firmament. A Dohnal moment (ask me another time).

Taxation consumes about 30 percent of the Gross Domestic Product (GDP) in America today. In Europe, that percentage hovers nearer to 50 percent. As recently as 1900, taxation in America only comprised about 10 percent of the GDP. Even 10 percent would have been intolerable for our colonial forefathers, who rebelled when they paid less than 5 percent.

Although taxation is a necessary evil which is collectively paid to protect our individual liberty, every dollar spent in excess of what is necessary for the protection of liberty leads to a reduction of liberty because each dollar is one less dollar that you or I, who earned that dollar, can spend for our own necessities or niceties.

I won't even speak about how misleading it is to compare taxation levels 100, 150 and 200 years ago. Currently though, the United States spends more on military than the next nine nations combined plus an additional $100 billion. Since, other than China and Japan, those other nations are European, just who the hell are we defending our liberty against. In fact, the government spends almost seven times more on defense than education. But, according to Robinson and his crew, all in opposition to public education, that would be fine. An uneducated population is less likely to care.

And who is going to pay for the upkeep of roads, hospitals, schools, etc.? Guess what, these were all necessary evils to which the public in majority fashion agreed. Robinson can spin it any way he wants, but it’s true.

If taxes are deemed too high, the remedy is the ballot box. But therein lies the rub, the public does not agree with Robinson … hence the end around effort called TABOR in which the public was left out of the process. IT STILL failed.

He continues …

No tyrant is as powerful or as unmerciful as the one who is elected.

And yet, that redoubt of democracy, Winston Churchill, laid naked the truth: no matter how repressive a representative government becomes, mankind has not yet devised a better system with which to govern ourselves.

It seems that our tree of liberty is withering without the blood of patriots.

This is ridiculous drivel from a man who thinks he is the second coming of Thomas Payne. The fact is that in everything Robinson dislikes he sees the evil machinations of government. If his conservatives ran the government, however, Robinson would gleefully goosestep in time to the martial music he so admires. Their disdain for the voting public is spectacular.

If words such as these were spouted from the pen of a liberal writer, Robinson and his ilk would loudly proclaim treason. But when one of their own drips poison from his pen, he gets a round of “well dones.”

Actually, one can’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Robinson. He and his followers have managed to fool some of the populace through the use of loathsome gimmicks like gay marriage. But the real problem is that Robinson and his group haven’t convinced enough people. Somehow, it reminds me of Vladimir Lenin in exile. One then cannot but be just a little worried over these sentences …

But there is a tipping point where a representative government loses its legitimacy and insurrection threatens. It is the point at which the people no longer feel that elections are credible enough to legitimately embody the will of the people. It is the point at which fraud, corruption, suppression, incumbency, gerrymandering and ignorance overwhelm the true will of the people and elect a counterfeit government. At that point, the will of the people no longer rules and the seeds of revolution are rightfully sown.

Is Robinson waiting for the Germans to help him and his followers to power, brought to Washington or wherever by shielded carriage?

Actually the truth is that the revolution is occurring already and the fraud, corruption, suppression, gerrymandering and ignorance of the Republican party, and of Robinson and his followers, has already sown the seeds. He rightly fears that.

We Had Lots of Paperclips

Having signed the closing papers yesterday for the second floor addition to our home, I can't help but be asking myself: Why didn't I think of this?

Metaphorically Speaking

Buoyed by the promise of endless and contradictory metaphors from Owen at Boots and Sabers, Glenn Grothman today donned his body armor and walked out of his office ready to do battle with the forces of common sense. The first victim was a little old lady. She approached him to ask a question and a withering crossfire mowed her down.

The Grothman campaign later issued a press release regarding the incident and blamed her death on "... The forces of liberalism against which we issue forth from our citadel of righteousness, with cannon blazing, aircraft strafing, UFOs raining phasor blasts and with any other romantic or applicable metaphors applied as we see fit. If that fails, there's always Kevin Barrett."

UPDATE: Nevermind.

This is What Marriage is Really All About

The old man ordered one hamburger, one order of french fries and one drink. He took the food back to his table, where his wife waited for him. Then, the old man unwrapped the plain hamburger and carefully cut it in half. He placed one half in front of his wife. He then carefully counted out the French fries, dividing them into two piles and neatly placed one pile in front of his wife.

He took a sip of the drink, his wife took a sip and then set the cup down between them. As he began to eat his few bites of hamburger, the people around them kept looking over and whispering. You could tell they were thinking, "That poor old couple, all they can afford is one meal for the two of them."

As the man began to eat his fries a young man came to the table. He politely offered to buy another meal for the old couple. The old man said they were just fine, they were used to sharing everything.

The surrounding people noticed the little old lady hadn't eaten a bite. She sat there watching her husband eat and occasionally taking turns sipping the drink.

Again the young man came over and begged them to let him buy another meal for them. This time the old woman said "No, thank you, we are used to sharing everything."

As the old man finished and was wiping his face neatly with the napkin, the young man again came over to the little old lady who had yet to eat a single bite of food and asked "What is it you are waiting for?" She answered ...

"THE TEETH."

Run Glenn Run

Surprise. Surprise. I disagree with something Chris at spottedhorse 2 is saying. He states in a post today that Glenn Grothman running against Herb Kohl is a mistake. He says that Grothman running is just a cover for the inept leadership of the Republican Party in Wisconsin.

Chris is right about one thing. The RPW is inept.

But he is wrong about Grothman. Grothman running is another great opportunity for Wisconsin to see the real face of conservatism in Wisconsin. Along with Paul Bucher, Grothman represents the anti-gay, anti-woman, anti-responsible gun laws, anti-freedom of speech, and the anti-freedom of the press forces in Wisconsin.

Grothman is so extreme that if he lived in South Dakota, their Republican lawmakers would be considered liberal.

Grothman is so extreme that he makes State Senator Tom Reynolds seem almost palatable and sane.

I'm surprised his mom will let him come out and play. Nonetheless ... run Glenn run!