Tuesday, August 20, 2002
If anyone were to ask me what the absolute worst home-improvement store is, I would have to say that it is Lowe's. The Lowe's in Westland, Michigan, at least is the most poorly-managed, poorly-stocked home-improvement store I've ever been in. I think there's been maybe one time in the past three years when I haven't walked out of there in a mind-numbing blind rage because they either didn't have something, I couldn't find it, or the lines were too long (and then, the thing I bought that time was broken so I had to go back and wait in line for 20 minutes to exchange it). We usually go to The Home Depot (that lone, shining beacon of hope for our home), but Lowe's is the only store that sells Valspar paint. Anyway, I drove all the way over to Westland today for some paint and they were -- guess what -- out of it. So that's my morning; thank you, Lowe's.
Thanks to TheresaMF for signing my GuestMap (and thanks to everyone else who's signed it, too!). Check out her virutal notebook for many reasons why, for a kid, homeschooling must just rock. WE never got any Medieval Feast in the Ann Arbor Public Schools. All we ever got was a "multi-cultural," feast with also sorts of outdated civil rights activists who taught us how to flash power signs and read poetry about why Jim Crow laws were bad (I think they were bad, I don't actually recall ever being taught what they were). Anyway, check out the Virtual Notebook, especialy the Medieval Feast page.
You're an American superstar, you need money, but you can't risk your image... what do you do?
If you're one of the over fifty celebrities to be found at this site, you go to Japan and make some commercials!!!
Japander.com
For sheer Japanese-advertising lunacy you just can't beat Arnold Schwartzenegger's genki-drink ad. And what have they done to The Simpsons (aside from taken away all of their clothing)?! No one is safe. Dennis Hopper selling herbal bath additives? Nicholas Cage selling his soul to a pachinko-machine manufacturer (as befits an actor of Cage's abilities, he makes a very convincing pachinko-addict)? They're all here in QuickTime format. They even got Kate Beckinsale (Nooooooooooooooo!).
All is not lost, though. Aardman Animation fans will want to check out the Wallace and Gromit ad (for some sort of pudding, much desired, or so it seems, by one of those Counting Sheep from the domestic Serta Mattress commercials) and ANYTHING -- and I do mean ANYTHING -- that Stevie Wonder is selling (ESPECIALLY if it's coffee drinks) I am buying.
Special thanks to SuperFriend Britain for this site.
If you're one of the over fifty celebrities to be found at this site, you go to Japan and make some commercials!!!
Japander.com
- Japander:n.,& v.t. 1. a western star who uses his or her fame to make large sums of money in a short time by advertising products in Japan that they would probably never use. ~er (see synecure, prostitute) 2. to make an ass of oneself in Japanese media.
For sheer Japanese-advertising lunacy you just can't beat Arnold Schwartzenegger's genki-drink ad. And what have they done to The Simpsons (aside from taken away all of their clothing)?! No one is safe. Dennis Hopper selling herbal bath additives? Nicholas Cage selling his soul to a pachinko-machine manufacturer (as befits an actor of Cage's abilities, he makes a very convincing pachinko-addict)? They're all here in QuickTime format. They even got Kate Beckinsale (Nooooooooooooooo!).
All is not lost, though. Aardman Animation fans will want to check out the Wallace and Gromit ad (for some sort of pudding, much desired, or so it seems, by one of those Counting Sheep from the domestic Serta Mattress commercials) and ANYTHING -- and I do mean ANYTHING -- that Stevie Wonder is selling (ESPECIALLY if it's coffee drinks) I am buying.
Special thanks to SuperFriend Britain for this site.
Monday, August 19, 2002
Zuhanden
Tim Shelarts, er Justin Katz, I mean, blames me, in a post dated August 19, 2002, for introducting him to the 'blog of Little French Girl (see post somewhere below). He adequately justifies his interest in the 'blog by saying that, as a parent of a small child, he will need to know in 18 years or so what is on the minds of 18-year-old women. I have news for Justin, though: in 18 years men and women won't exist. No, siree, not like they do now. Humanity will have become one big sexless soup, reproducing endlessly and joylessly through mitosis (or karyokinesis, if you prefer -- but it doesn't get any more enticing if you call it that). It's not a particularly cheery future, I know, so you better have your fun while you can. Quickly.
Anyways, this leads to a discussion about pickup lines. Well, I'm here to report that I never actually had any pickup lines, if you can believe it. While I was prone to the occasional long-winded poem (which usually evoked the intended's fire which radiated from her soul, or something -- they were really quite awful) accompanied by flowers or, when that didn't work, bringing a musical instrument to her place of employment (we really don't like to talk about this) I can't say that much of that actually worked. No, the best plan was to be nearby (or zuhanden, "ready-to-hand," as the philosopher says), always. I figured that if anyone ever wanted to out with me badly enough (and why would I want to go out with anyone who didn't?), that they would just ask me. All I needed to be was nearby. And it happened. I got asked out. Infrequently. I didn't date much. But it sometimes happened. Whether or not I accepted, of course, was another dealie-o entirely. Ha. I always accepted. I didn't date much. Anyway.
The lesson to all you Junior Et Ceterae out there is this: Patience and persistence will always pay off where flair and style fail. (Charm helps too, though, so try to cultivate some). Sure, you might have to wait while they go through three or four other boyfriends or girlfriends and, yeah, they may eventually get serious with one of them and then get engaged and then break-up again and at that point become so embittered with the opposite sex that they "switch teams," but, hey -- that's life. The whole point is that if you wait long enough, everyone eventually becomes undesirable and that is when you make your move.
Your mileage, though, may vary.
(And if that title, referencing Heidegger up there, doesn't get Eve Tushnet to finally notice my 'blog and recognize the sheer intellectual force which it has become, then I do not know what will).
Tim Shelarts, er Justin Katz, I mean, blames me, in a post dated August 19, 2002, for introducting him to the 'blog of Little French Girl (see post somewhere below). He adequately justifies his interest in the 'blog by saying that, as a parent of a small child, he will need to know in 18 years or so what is on the minds of 18-year-old women. I have news for Justin, though: in 18 years men and women won't exist. No, siree, not like they do now. Humanity will have become one big sexless soup, reproducing endlessly and joylessly through mitosis (or karyokinesis, if you prefer -- but it doesn't get any more enticing if you call it that). It's not a particularly cheery future, I know, so you better have your fun while you can. Quickly.
Anyways, this leads to a discussion about pickup lines. Well, I'm here to report that I never actually had any pickup lines, if you can believe it. While I was prone to the occasional long-winded poem (which usually evoked the intended's fire which radiated from her soul, or something -- they were really quite awful) accompanied by flowers or, when that didn't work, bringing a musical instrument to her place of employment (we really don't like to talk about this) I can't say that much of that actually worked. No, the best plan was to be nearby (or zuhanden, "ready-to-hand," as the philosopher says), always. I figured that if anyone ever wanted to out with me badly enough (and why would I want to go out with anyone who didn't?), that they would just ask me. All I needed to be was nearby. And it happened. I got asked out. Infrequently. I didn't date much. But it sometimes happened. Whether or not I accepted, of course, was another dealie-o entirely. Ha. I always accepted. I didn't date much. Anyway.
The lesson to all you Junior Et Ceterae out there is this: Patience and persistence will always pay off where flair and style fail. (Charm helps too, though, so try to cultivate some). Sure, you might have to wait while they go through three or four other boyfriends or girlfriends and, yeah, they may eventually get serious with one of them and then get engaged and then break-up again and at that point become so embittered with the opposite sex that they "switch teams," but, hey -- that's life. The whole point is that if you wait long enough, everyone eventually becomes undesirable and that is when you make your move.
Your mileage, though, may vary.
(And if that title, referencing Heidegger up there, doesn't get Eve Tushnet to finally notice my 'blog and recognize the sheer intellectual force which it has become, then I do not know what will).
Edinburgh reports: smug and sanctimonious:Charles Spencer reviews The Guys
Alarm bells start ringing early in the proceedings when Sarandon's journalist tells the audience of the terrible "crisis of marginality" she and other New Yorkers experienced after September 11. This grand phrase actually means that she wanted to help, but couldn't think of anything to do, at least until the fire captain contacted her. The solipsism of this response to the hideous deaths of some 3,000 people strikes me as bordering on the obscene.
Alarm bells start ringing early in the proceedings when Sarandon's journalist tells the audience of the terrible "crisis of marginality" she and other New Yorkers experienced after September 11. This grand phrase actually means that she wanted to help, but couldn't think of anything to do, at least until the fire captain contacted her. The solipsism of this response to the hideous deaths of some 3,000 people strikes me as bordering on the obscene.
U.S. team wins international robot design competition
This would be a nice story if they had actually built robots and then entered them into competition. It sounds, though, like they just built glorified remote-controlled cars and entered them into competition (as per Battlebots). Say it with me: "Remote controlled cars are not robots. Remote controlled cars are not robots."
This would be a nice story if they had actually built robots and then entered them into competition. It sounds, though, like they just built glorified remote-controlled cars and entered them into competition (as per Battlebots). Say it with me: "Remote controlled cars are not robots. Remote controlled cars are not robots."
Sunday, August 18, 2002
Just in case you missed it the first time because you weren't, like me, glued to the computer all weekend (for work! It was for work!).
Strength, Pride & Strength Radio
One of the advantages to having a shortwave radio capable of picking up broadcasts from both alternate universes and Catholic Radio stations is that occasionally I'll stumble across something I wouldn't hear anyplace else. Such was the last case when I stumbed upon what appears to be an alternate universe version of Gregory Popcak's Heart, Mind & Strength Radio program.
In this version called "Strength, Pride & Strength Radio," (and I only managed to tape the last two or three minutes of it), host Gregory P. Chavez (who bills himself as the "Maxine Waters of the Church Fathers, your Kweisi Mfume of Ecclesia Dei, the Macolm X of the Mediatrix, the MLK of Humanae Vitae,") seems to be some sort of radical Catholic civil-rights activist. Anyway, here's some links to the audio. Netscape users may need to right-click/save-link-as in order to get these to work.
* SPS Radio in .rm format - 16kbs, perfect for streaming over dial-up modems and that authentic Catholic Radio, AM transmission ambience.
* SPS Radio in 128k .mp3 format - CD quality, 2.4MB .mp3 file
* SPS Radio in 64k .mp3 format - seedy quality, 1.2MB .mp3 file
Strength, Pride & Strength Radio
One of the advantages to having a shortwave radio capable of picking up broadcasts from both alternate universes and Catholic Radio stations is that occasionally I'll stumble across something I wouldn't hear anyplace else. Such was the last case when I stumbed upon what appears to be an alternate universe version of Gregory Popcak's Heart, Mind & Strength Radio program.
In this version called "Strength, Pride & Strength Radio," (and I only managed to tape the last two or three minutes of it), host Gregory P. Chavez (who bills himself as the "Maxine Waters of the Church Fathers, your Kweisi Mfume of Ecclesia Dei, the Macolm X of the Mediatrix, the MLK of Humanae Vitae,") seems to be some sort of radical Catholic civil-rights activist. Anyway, here's some links to the audio. Netscape users may need to right-click/save-link-as in order to get these to work.
* SPS Radio in .rm format - 16kbs, perfect for streaming over dial-up modems and that authentic Catholic Radio, AM transmission ambience.
* SPS Radio in 128k .mp3 format - CD quality, 2.4MB .mp3 file
* SPS Radio in 64k .mp3 format - seedy quality, 1.2MB .mp3 file
Tales from the CD collection, long forgotten
In going through some of my older CDs today, I came across McCoy Tyner's Trident album and gave it a listen. My Sophomore year of High School, I thought this record was the bomb (it was still cool to say that back then). Obviously inspired by Thelonius Monk's Brilliant Corners album, Tyner plays celeste and harpsichord in addition to piano on this 1975 record (since there's no multitracking, there's always a couple bars vamp between when he stops on the celeste, for example, and starts up on the piano). The "Trident," in the title, by the way is Tyner, Elvin Jones, and Ron Carter -- that's right: the legendary trio which backed John Coltrane. Anyway, it's a very cool album. I like it even better than The Real McCoy. It's not the McCoy Tyner CD I'd take with me to a desert island, though. That would have to be his 4 x 4 album (four different quartets -- get it?) because it's a double-length album and, let's face it, if you're going to be stuck on a desert island it's probably not going to matter so much the quality of the music you have as how much of it.
Anyway, the interesting little side story about McCoy Tyner is that about six or seven years ago I had the chance to hear him perform in Ann Arbor. This was as part of their Summer Festival so people had to pay like $30 to get in to hear him (not me, though). Anyway, the jazz combo which was supposed to open for him couldn't play for some reason and all the festival organizers could get at the last minute to open for McCoy Tyner was this local comedian/performance-artist. Now, I do have to applaud this guy's courage, whoever he was, since putting any comedian/performance-artist up in front of Ann Arbor and Metro-Detroit's jazz elite (who just payed $30 to hear jazz legend McCoy Tyner) is pretty much a losing proposition. The centerpiece of his act, though, was a prop-filled pantomime to a recording of "My Girl," by the Temptations.
Yeah. It got ugly.
In going through some of my older CDs today, I came across McCoy Tyner's Trident album and gave it a listen. My Sophomore year of High School, I thought this record was the bomb (it was still cool to say that back then). Obviously inspired by Thelonius Monk's Brilliant Corners album, Tyner plays celeste and harpsichord in addition to piano on this 1975 record (since there's no multitracking, there's always a couple bars vamp between when he stops on the celeste, for example, and starts up on the piano). The "Trident," in the title, by the way is Tyner, Elvin Jones, and Ron Carter -- that's right: the legendary trio which backed John Coltrane. Anyway, it's a very cool album. I like it even better than The Real McCoy. It's not the McCoy Tyner CD I'd take with me to a desert island, though. That would have to be his 4 x 4 album (four different quartets -- get it?) because it's a double-length album and, let's face it, if you're going to be stuck on a desert island it's probably not going to matter so much the quality of the music you have as how much of it.
Anyway, the interesting little side story about McCoy Tyner is that about six or seven years ago I had the chance to hear him perform in Ann Arbor. This was as part of their Summer Festival so people had to pay like $30 to get in to hear him (not me, though). Anyway, the jazz combo which was supposed to open for him couldn't play for some reason and all the festival organizers could get at the last minute to open for McCoy Tyner was this local comedian/performance-artist. Now, I do have to applaud this guy's courage, whoever he was, since putting any comedian/performance-artist up in front of Ann Arbor and Metro-Detroit's jazz elite (who just payed $30 to hear jazz legend McCoy Tyner) is pretty much a losing proposition. The centerpiece of his act, though, was a prop-filled pantomime to a recording of "My Girl," by the Temptations.
Yeah. It got ugly.
'Blogs you've probably never seen before, Part I
B'anne really likes Allen Iverson. And she also has some really compelling reasons for making her LiveJournal private, from now on (lower-lefthand box -- warning: contains some explicit language).
The Kolkata Libertarian actually highlights passages of his own 'blog posts, but links to the U.S.S. Clueless, so his 'blog can't be all that bad.
He also links to someone who calls herself Jane Galt. Her "about me," page is a little coy so we never really learn the answer to "Who is Jane Galt?" (Question: why is it that people will go into very specific detail about their various physical attributes -- I have auburn chestnut hair with flax highlights and am 6-feet, 3-inches, and 2 microns tall -- but will never divulge their weight? I of course, am more than happy to divulge my weight but, since I haven't been weighed in over four years, I can't gaurantee that it would be an accurate divulgence). She does, however, dispute that Melissa Gilbert is really 35, like she says. I would have to agree with this. If John Linnell and John Flansburg of They Might Be Giants (you just knew I would bring them in at some point) are in their mid-forties, Melissa Gilbert has got to be at least that old. Anyway, I think "Jane Galt's," blog has more comments-per-post than just about any other 'blog I've seen. (It's kind of crazy. There'll be like a short, little "is that a rain cloud?" post and it'll have like three-dozen comments).
And just because this is a St. Blog's blog, I thought I'd point out that the coolest-named 'blog I've seen in a while, SPQR, may be misnamed. I don't know yet. I don't actually read these things. I just look at all the pretty pictures and MT layouts. It does remind me, though, of the time I was in Brugge (you francophiles may know it as "Bruges,"), Belgium, and they had this huge statue with the letters "SPQB," carved into its pedestal. I forget who the guy was. It wasn't a statue of Pieter de Coninck, though, I don't think. I'm still really, really, really, REALLY bummed that I missed celebrating the 700th anniversary of The Battle of the Golden Spurs. It was on July 11th, right as the whole "$3.8 billion? I am shocked," scandal was unfolding which, come to think of it, may have been the perfect time to celebrate an uprising, led by a weaver, which drove the French from Flanders. Perhaps this is only because there is no bad time to celebrate the routing of a French occupying force, though (especially since the country in question here, Belgium, has over 600 unique ways -- and by ways I mean beers -- with which to celebrate).
Well, I'll celebrate it now. The Flemish Lion says "GRRRR!!!"
But the good news is...
...as a result of this stupid waste of time, I learned that the TolkeinCollector site now actually seems to have the FULL-LENGTH Ballad of Bilbo Baggins music video up on their site (in Quicktime format)! Leonard Nimoy is just so precious in this particular video (are the ears the go-go dancers -- and Leonard Nimoy, for that matter -- are wearing supposed to be hobbit ears or vulcan ears? This I can't figure out). "What's a Leonard Nimoy," indeed.
B'anne really likes Allen Iverson. And she also has some really compelling reasons for making her LiveJournal private, from now on (lower-lefthand box -- warning: contains some explicit language).
The Kolkata Libertarian actually highlights passages of his own 'blog posts, but links to the U.S.S. Clueless, so his 'blog can't be all that bad.
He also links to someone who calls herself Jane Galt. Her "about me," page is a little coy so we never really learn the answer to "Who is Jane Galt?" (Question: why is it that people will go into very specific detail about their various physical attributes -- I have auburn chestnut hair with flax highlights and am 6-feet, 3-inches, and 2 microns tall -- but will never divulge their weight? I of course, am more than happy to divulge my weight but, since I haven't been weighed in over four years, I can't gaurantee that it would be an accurate divulgence). She does, however, dispute that Melissa Gilbert is really 35, like she says. I would have to agree with this. If John Linnell and John Flansburg of They Might Be Giants (you just knew I would bring them in at some point) are in their mid-forties, Melissa Gilbert has got to be at least that old. Anyway, I think "Jane Galt's," blog has more comments-per-post than just about any other 'blog I've seen. (It's kind of crazy. There'll be like a short, little "is that a rain cloud?" post and it'll have like three-dozen comments).
And just because this is a St. Blog's blog, I thought I'd point out that the coolest-named 'blog I've seen in a while, SPQR, may be misnamed. I don't know yet. I don't actually read these things. I just look at all the pretty pictures and MT layouts. It does remind me, though, of the time I was in Brugge (you francophiles may know it as "Bruges,"), Belgium, and they had this huge statue with the letters "SPQB," carved into its pedestal. I forget who the guy was. It wasn't a statue of Pieter de Coninck, though, I don't think. I'm still really, really, really, REALLY bummed that I missed celebrating the 700th anniversary of The Battle of the Golden Spurs. It was on July 11th, right as the whole "$3.8 billion? I am shocked," scandal was unfolding which, come to think of it, may have been the perfect time to celebrate an uprising, led by a weaver, which drove the French from Flanders. Perhaps this is only because there is no bad time to celebrate the routing of a French occupying force, though (especially since the country in question here, Belgium, has over 600 unique ways -- and by ways I mean beers -- with which to celebrate).
Well, I'll celebrate it now. The Flemish Lion says "GRRRR!!!"
But the good news is...
...as a result of this stupid waste of time, I learned that the TolkeinCollector site now actually seems to have the FULL-LENGTH Ballad of Bilbo Baggins music video up on their site (in Quicktime format)! Leonard Nimoy is just so precious in this particular video (are the ears the go-go dancers -- and Leonard Nimoy, for that matter -- are wearing supposed to be hobbit ears or vulcan ears? This I can't figure out). "What's a Leonard Nimoy," indeed.
Yes, they actually made a movie called Slap Her... She's French. That link takes you to the trailer of the fairly-typical-looking teen revenge comedy. This one, though (and if you knew how much I hate "teen," movies, you wouldn't believe I'm saying this) looks pretty funny -- judging by the trailer. The neat thing about the trailer, though, is that after you've seen it, you don't need to see the movie (not even on cable) because I'm faily certain it shows you all the funny bits. At least it tells you the whole story. It's good to finally see those foreign-exchange students getting what they deserve for upsetting the delicate social balance present in every high school. Er, that's what someone a lot less sensitive than myself might say. Anyway, I think the Bush girls will really get a kick out of it.
Oh, in case you're wondering, I didn't go to Apple's movie trailer page for Slap Her.... I went to check out the trailer for Matrix Reloaded which looks like it's going to rock -- just one big kung-fu, shoot-em-up, explosion-filled battle royale (slap me, I'm speaking French) in which, Morpheus says, also lies the meaning of our lives.
Oh, in case you're wondering, I didn't go to Apple's movie trailer page for Slap Her.... I went to check out the trailer for Matrix Reloaded which looks like it's going to rock -- just one big kung-fu, shoot-em-up, explosion-filled battle royale (slap me, I'm speaking French) in which, Morpheus says, also lies the meaning of our lives.
Having worked at that particular orchard for several years once, Victor is all too aware of the bitter fruits of infatuation and knows a crush when he sees one. Since the archive links are acting a little spotty, go to the entry from Sunday, August 18th, entitled "N.B. to N.O."
Saturday, August 17, 2002
Strength, Pride & Strength Radio
One of the advantages to having a shortwave radio capable of picking up broadcasts from both alternate universes and Catholic Radio stations is that occasionally I'll stumble across something I wouldn't hear anyplace else. Such was the last case when I stumbed upon what appears to be an alternate universe version of Gregory Popcak's Heart, Mind & Strength Radio program.
In this version called "Strength, Pride & Strength Radio," (and I only managed to tape the last two or three minutes of it), host Gregory P. Chavez (who bills himself as the "Maxine Waters of the Church Fathers, your Kweisi Mfume of Ecclesia Dei, the Macolm X of the Mediatrix, the MLK of Humanae Vitae,") seems to be some sort of radical Catholic civil-rights activist. Anyway, here's some links to the audio. Netscape users may need to right-click/save-link-as in order to get these to work.
* SPS Radio in .rm format - 16kbs, perfect for streaming over dial-up modems and that authentic Catholic Radio, AM transmission ambience.
* SPS Radio in 128k .mp3 format - CD quality, 2.4MB .mp3 file
* SPS Radio in 64k .mp3 format - seedy quality, 1.2MB .mp3 file
Anyways, I think I better get over to Church for confession now....
One of the advantages to having a shortwave radio capable of picking up broadcasts from both alternate universes and Catholic Radio stations is that occasionally I'll stumble across something I wouldn't hear anyplace else. Such was the last case when I stumbed upon what appears to be an alternate universe version of Gregory Popcak's Heart, Mind & Strength Radio program.
In this version called "Strength, Pride & Strength Radio," (and I only managed to tape the last two or three minutes of it), host Gregory P. Chavez (who bills himself as the "Maxine Waters of the Church Fathers, your Kweisi Mfume of Ecclesia Dei, the Macolm X of the Mediatrix, the MLK of Humanae Vitae,") seems to be some sort of radical Catholic civil-rights activist. Anyway, here's some links to the audio. Netscape users may need to right-click/save-link-as in order to get these to work.
* SPS Radio in .rm format - 16kbs, perfect for streaming over dial-up modems and that authentic Catholic Radio, AM transmission ambience.
* SPS Radio in 128k .mp3 format - CD quality, 2.4MB .mp3 file
* SPS Radio in 64k .mp3 format - seedy quality, 1.2MB .mp3 file
Anyways, I think I better get over to Church for confession now....
My Favorite Trill
Just got through watching an episode of The Dead Zone on USA. It's a show starring Anthony Michael Hall and Nicole DeBoer (great even without the purple spots). The episode we watched tonight (our first) a bank robbery gone awry (yawn) thwarted by the protagonist's ability to see possible futures (kinda cool) and the actions and decency of the bank robber himself (more cool). I don't know if all the episodes will be as nice as this one but it stars Anthony Michael Hall and Nicole DeBoer (did I mention that Ezri Dax is just way more cooler than Jadzia Dax?).
Don't get too excited.... The King still needs his three miracles.
Elvis Bust 'Weeps' in Dutch Town
Thanks to regular reader RC for passing this one along:
"Everybody is thinking about Elvis today. He's been dead for 25 years. This is my special room," he said, pointing out a trickle of moisture running from the eye-socket of the bust he has owned for 15 years.
"The tears you can see started at 10 o'clock. When you taste it, it's salty. It's a miracle," he said.
"Special room." Quite.
Just got through watching an episode of The Dead Zone on USA. It's a show starring Anthony Michael Hall and Nicole DeBoer (great even without the purple spots). The episode we watched tonight (our first) a bank robbery gone awry (yawn) thwarted by the protagonist's ability to see possible futures (kinda cool) and the actions and decency of the bank robber himself (more cool). I don't know if all the episodes will be as nice as this one but it stars Anthony Michael Hall and Nicole DeBoer (did I mention that Ezri Dax is just way more cooler than Jadzia Dax?).
Don't get too excited.... The King still needs his three miracles.
Elvis Bust 'Weeps' in Dutch Town
Thanks to regular reader RC for passing this one along:
"Everybody is thinking about Elvis today. He's been dead for 25 years. This is my special room," he said, pointing out a trickle of moisture running from the eye-socket of the bust he has owned for 15 years.
"The tears you can see started at 10 o'clock. When you taste it, it's salty. It's a miracle," he said.
"Special room." Quite.
Friday, August 16, 2002
Our Lady Of Good Council saga backstory: "Oh, you mean that First Amendment."
Last Sunday when I made that mega-super-post with all the pretty pictures I mentioned, offhand, that the protesters had, previously, had their signs confiscated by the police and had to actually file a restraining order to get them back. Well, we finally have independent, secular press confirmation of this.
Of course it's not in Plymouth's "real," paper, the Plymouth Observer, the one with the classifieds and the editorials about how the public schools need more money. It's not in that paper. It's in the little Your Plymouth Community Crier, the paper owned and run by Dr. Prose who is apparently very rich, has a penchant for writing, well, prose, and who (I have heard) is suing the city of Plymouth (or the Township, I forget which) for like $100 million dollars because of some verbal assault or something. Anyway, it's the same paper which recently ran a thrilling article about the haunted real-estate office (which was not nearly as fatuous as story as it sounds).
Anyway, here's the Reader's Digest excerpt of that article (emphasis in bold and comments in brackets are mine. Typos are all theirs... like I said, it's a pretty laid-back newspaper):
On [July 6th and 7th], Plantiffs and several others displayed signs depicting aborted fetuses as well as written messages that included "Granholm wants abortion. Does God?," "Look Up! Granholm Above Church," [that one is my favorite] "Abortion Stops a Beating Heart," and "Judging Abortion - Granholm: 1 Cor 5:12."
The Plantiffs asser that, at all times, the remained on the public sidewalk and on the public right away in front of the Parish and that the protests were peaceful. [As you can tell from my post, the protests were far away from the Church and very peaceful.] Police reports written at the time do not dispute this claim. Nevertheless, on July 7th, Plantiff Anderson was approached by Officer Eric Anderson-Smith and Ryan Krebs. The officers advised that there had been one complaint by a passerby about the signs. Officer Anderson asked Plantiff Anderson to voluntarily put away the signs, although he acknowledged they were proteced speech. Officer Anderson offered that they were in bad taste and that children could see them. In reponse to Plantiff Anderson's refusal to put away the signs, the officer left but advised if the department received any additional complaints they would have "to do something, whether it's right or wrong," and "whether it's a violation of [Plaintiff's] first Amendment rights or not."
Approximately two hours later, Officers Anderson and Krebs returned. The officers' supervisor, Sergeant Antal appeared shortly after. The officers and sergeant advised Plaintiffs that after receiving additional complaints from passing motorists, they had to confiscate the signs if they refused to put them away. When Plaintiff Anderson asserted her First Amendment right display the signs, Segreant Antal asserted that there were limits to the First Amendment and drew an analogy to prohibitions on similar displays of pornography. Sergeant Antal asserted that they were confiscating the signs because they were "visual," and too "close to the line of pornography." Ultimately, the officers confiscated three signs depicting aborted fetuses. The protestors were allowed to keep and continue to display signs with only written text.
Then the article goes on to say that after filing a 13-count complaint against the Po-Po and the township in the U.S. District court, the protesters got their signs (and constitutional rights) back.
Okay, just a couple of short things: Who here gets the impression that we've found the one person in America who can't really define what pornography is and actually wouldn't be able to identify it if he saw it? ("Uh, I had some pornography once, but I didn't have a pornograph to play it on,"). And is the only surprising thing about a cop saying I'm going to do "something, whether it's right or wrong," and "whether it's a violation of [your] first Amendment rights or not," (after only two complaints, mind you, though that is beside the point) is not so much that he went ahead and did it but that he actually announced, out loud, that he was getting ready to poop all over the U.S. Constitution?
Plymouth Township is not some backwater inbred hick community (at least not by Michigan standards). This is where, if you'll recall, all the $400,000 - $2 million homes are built -- being built for all the lawyers and doctors in the area! The Police really should know better than to try that sort of "I'm the law 'round these parts," nonsense. As James Traficant might have said: "Beam me up! Unbelievable. I yield back all the fascist police officers in this country."
Last Sunday when I made that mega-super-post with all the pretty pictures I mentioned, offhand, that the protesters had, previously, had their signs confiscated by the police and had to actually file a restraining order to get them back. Well, we finally have independent, secular press confirmation of this.
Of course it's not in Plymouth's "real," paper, the Plymouth Observer, the one with the classifieds and the editorials about how the public schools need more money. It's not in that paper. It's in the little Your Plymouth Community Crier, the paper owned and run by Dr. Prose who is apparently very rich, has a penchant for writing, well, prose, and who (I have heard) is suing the city of Plymouth (or the Township, I forget which) for like $100 million dollars because of some verbal assault or something. Anyway, it's the same paper which recently ran a thrilling article about the haunted real-estate office (which was not nearly as fatuous as story as it sounds).
Anyway, here's the Reader's Digest excerpt of that article (emphasis in bold and comments in brackets are mine. Typos are all theirs... like I said, it's a pretty laid-back newspaper):
On [July 6th and 7th], Plantiffs and several others displayed signs depicting aborted fetuses as well as written messages that included "Granholm wants abortion. Does God?," "Look Up! Granholm Above Church," [that one is my favorite] "Abortion Stops a Beating Heart," and "Judging Abortion - Granholm: 1 Cor 5:12."
The Plantiffs asser that, at all times, the remained on the public sidewalk and on the public right away in front of the Parish and that the protests were peaceful. [As you can tell from my post, the protests were far away from the Church and very peaceful.] Police reports written at the time do not dispute this claim. Nevertheless, on July 7th, Plantiff Anderson was approached by Officer Eric Anderson-Smith and Ryan Krebs. The officers advised that there had been one complaint by a passerby about the signs. Officer Anderson asked Plantiff Anderson to voluntarily put away the signs, although he acknowledged they were proteced speech. Officer Anderson offered that they were in bad taste and that children could see them. In reponse to Plantiff Anderson's refusal to put away the signs, the officer left but advised if the department received any additional complaints they would have "to do something, whether it's right or wrong," and "whether it's a violation of [Plaintiff's] first Amendment rights or not."
Approximately two hours later, Officers Anderson and Krebs returned. The officers' supervisor, Sergeant Antal appeared shortly after. The officers and sergeant advised Plaintiffs that after receiving additional complaints from passing motorists, they had to confiscate the signs if they refused to put them away. When Plaintiff Anderson asserted her First Amendment right display the signs, Segreant Antal asserted that there were limits to the First Amendment and drew an analogy to prohibitions on similar displays of pornography. Sergeant Antal asserted that they were confiscating the signs because they were "visual," and too "close to the line of pornography." Ultimately, the officers confiscated three signs depicting aborted fetuses. The protestors were allowed to keep and continue to display signs with only written text.
Then the article goes on to say that after filing a 13-count complaint against the Po-Po and the township in the U.S. District court, the protesters got their signs (and constitutional rights) back.
Okay, just a couple of short things: Who here gets the impression that we've found the one person in America who can't really define what pornography is and actually wouldn't be able to identify it if he saw it? ("Uh, I had some pornography once, but I didn't have a pornograph to play it on,"). And is the only surprising thing about a cop saying I'm going to do "something, whether it's right or wrong," and "whether it's a violation of [your] first Amendment rights or not," (after only two complaints, mind you, though that is beside the point) is not so much that he went ahead and did it but that he actually announced, out loud, that he was getting ready to poop all over the U.S. Constitution?
Plymouth Township is not some backwater inbred hick community (at least not by Michigan standards). This is where, if you'll recall, all the $400,000 - $2 million homes are built -- being built for all the lawyers and doctors in the area! The Police really should know better than to try that sort of "I'm the law 'round these parts," nonsense. As James Traficant might have said: "Beam me up! Unbelievable. I yield back all the fascist police officers in this country."
'Blogwatch: Micro-update
Tim Drake some some excellent (previously published!) observations on androgeny as well as a rebuff to this post by David Alexander wherein he (David) doesn't see what the big deal is with the whole Our Lady of Hollywood thing and thinks that we should all just get out a lot more to see all the (and I'm only talking about the statue here! I have no prejudices either way! Everything and everyone must be judged purely on its own merits!) collagen-lipped, flat-chested, narrow-hipped, androgenous, zydeco-dancing women that the world has to offer. (Note to David: the whole reason I got the internet in the first place was so that I'd never have to leave my house again).
Anyway, I'm just trying to wake up here before lunch with Zach, soon to be expatriate wannabe (who has a rather nice comparison of the various religions' respective chapels at the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs up on his blog). As you may have guessed, he's leaving the country soon for a place called Oxford University which, if I understand correctly, is in Britishland, somewheres, and which is best known as Bill Clinton's alma mater. I wonder: if Bill Clinton were a college student today, would he be the guy who hides those tiny, wireless webcams all around his dorm room for when he entertains the co-eds? Just a thought....
Tim Drake some some excellent (previously published!) observations on androgeny as well as a rebuff to this post by David Alexander wherein he (David) doesn't see what the big deal is with the whole Our Lady of Hollywood thing and thinks that we should all just get out a lot more to see all the (and I'm only talking about the statue here! I have no prejudices either way! Everything and everyone must be judged purely on its own merits!) collagen-lipped, flat-chested, narrow-hipped, androgenous, zydeco-dancing women that the world has to offer. (Note to David: the whole reason I got the internet in the first place was so that I'd never have to leave my house again).
Anyway, I'm just trying to wake up here before lunch with Zach, soon to be expatriate wannabe (who has a rather nice comparison of the various religions' respective chapels at the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs up on his blog). As you may have guessed, he's leaving the country soon for a place called Oxford University which, if I understand correctly, is in Britishland, somewheres, and which is best known as Bill Clinton's alma mater. I wonder: if Bill Clinton were a college student today, would he be the guy who hides those tiny, wireless webcams all around his dorm room for when he entertains the co-eds? Just a thought....
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