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Sunday, December 31, 2006


Ashram Giant



Come on down to Ashram Giant, where we have 50% off Holy Aphid Ashram this week.

I love the idea of a business named Ashram Giant. I see that I have invented it, since it is unknown to Google.

Begin your spiritual journey here.

Or procede to next year.

Saturday, December 30, 2006


Reading, Interrupted


This morning I picked up the front page of the newspaper to read these words:

Clutching a Quran, Saddam Hussein went to the gallows before sunrise Saturday, executed by vengeful countrymen

And there I stopped.

Vengeful.

You know, if the US had turned Saddam immediately over to the Iraqis, who then turned him loose in a Shia or Kurdish area, and the inhabitants had attacked him with stones, bricks, kitchen knives, their bare hands -- that would have been vengeful.

But the Iraqis didn't do that. They gave him a trial. It's difficult to judge the fairness of the trial because there was no doubt as to his guilt. But they went through the motions, at least, and let him have a phalanx of the most deranged lawyers stolen money could buy, and let him occasionally point his finger and shout that the proceedings were illegal because he was still president, dammit.

And still, it's "vengeful". And the lesson here, children, is that it doesn't pay to do things by the book, because the right-thinking "civilized" people will still think of you as barbarians as long as there isn't forgiveness and a big group hug at the end.

Niles suggests that "vengeful" is not necessarily meant as a criticism. He's wrong, of course, but I mention it as a gesture to the Deluded-American community.

Now, you'll notice that there is no link to the article. That's because the Houston Chronicle's online article bears no resemblance to the one in the paper, despite being written by the same two authors. There is some overlap in information between the two, but only a handful of paragraphs.

Protein Wisdom designated-blogger Darleen comments on this story too, finding the Chronicle's dead-trees version at Forbes. The Forbes story is time-stamped 1:10am Eastern, whereas the online Chronicle story is time-stamped 10:50am. (Although, as we learned during the Qana photo-staging controversy, apparently time stamps on photos mean bupkis. Is it any different for stories?)

Charles Johnson also finds a vengeful photograph caption.

In other Saddam execution news, apparently some of his last words were, God is great. The nation will be victorious and Palestine is Arab. I have to wonder at this report, since I find it hard to believe that Saddam found his mind concentrated on the Palestinians at that moment. They sure appreciated the thought, though. Aside from his family and some Kos Kidz, the Palestinians are really the only ones sorry to see him go.

However, Hot Air brings us an execution round-up in which multiple witnesses report multiple last words, including a contemptuous "Muqtada" [al-Sadr].

Returning to our theme of interrupted reading: that Hot Air post also noted this [London] Times obituary, which I abandoned in the middle of the fourth paragraph:

[Saddam] clearly felt that the international community did not have the stomach for a fight. He may have been right in that. But a new American President, George W Bush, determined to find a scapegoat for the Muslim terrorist attacks on the US in September 2001, was in no mood to abide by the niceties of international law.

It goes on for fifty-seven more paragraphs. But after inaccuracies on that scale, what's the point of reading the rest of the piece?



Main Tsar Hag



OK, now the petits fours are calling someone else's name. I'm certainly not the posh lady. Petits fours are so fickle, such little tortes. I mean, tarts. Ha, I malign the tarts. A humble pie would never be so faithless. Next year, apple pies for everyone.

My mental illness began here.

Friday, December 29, 2006


Foto Friday: Church of the Holy Apostles



Church of the Holy Apostles Athens, June, 1990


This church looks terribly small -- not big enough to hold a dozen lumpy American tourists -- but it's not as small as it looks. This page has a photo at the top of the ancient Agora; the Church of the Holy Apostles is at the bottom of the picture, slightly to the left of center.

I was going to go in and look around, as this fellow did, but there was a sign at the front of the church reminding us that it was still a church, and that we should enter respectfully, not clomping in loudly in our hot pants and photographing everything willy-nilly[1]. A few black-robed Greek women slipping in for prayers highlighted this message.

I couldn't find out a lot about the church, except that it was built in the 11th century over an ancient nymphaion. Apparently it was restored in the last century, so the building you see did not survive ten centuries as it is.

[1]It's possible that I am misremembering this. Michael Lima -- he of the first link on the page -- says that the church was deconsecrated 50 years ago. Perhaps I saw a similar sign somewhere else, or I may be confusing the Church of the Holy Apostles with some other tiny polygonal church in Athens. But wherever they were, the black-robed women were real.


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Anti-Mars Hag




I hear the pastries call my name.

Begin at the beginning.

Thursday, December 28, 2006


Ham Air Angst



David Mamet's Swedish Pancake

Series starts here.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006


A Shaming Art





Start here, scroll up.

Tuesday, December 26, 2006


A Mashing Tar




Hellooooo, Sailor!


See here for the beginning of the series.

Monday, December 25, 2006


Anagram This



These are some petits fours we ordered from the Swiss Colony.

You'll see them again.

Muahahahaha.



Mele Kalikimaka!



Mele Kalikimaka, Kaunakakai, Molokai, Jan. 2002Mele Kalikimaka, Kaunakakai, Molokai, Jan. 2002



Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii's way to say Merry Christmas to you!

Friday, December 22, 2006


Foto Friday: Warrumbungles



Sunset at Warrumbungles National Park, Australia, July 2000Sunset at Warrumbungles National Park
Australia, July 2000



Warrumbungles N.P. is in central New South Wales. It takes eight hours to get there from Sydney by car (less if you're a lead-footed Indian, but I digress), and looking at the map you see there's still plenty more NSW where that came from.

As you can see, the landscape there is stunning. Off to the left of the picture the land flattens, and, I was told, remains flat until you get to the other side of the continent. A Google image search on "Warrumbungles" leads you to many beautiful photographs, most better than any I have. I was unable to do the actual hiking required to get those pictures while I was there, but I did play "Astrogulf" at the Skywatch Observatory in nearby Coonabarabran. I have pictures of that, too, but they're less than stunning.

This Coonabarabran page has a nice close-up of the same view. The layered hill in the center of that picture (and to the right in mine) is called the "Wedding Cake".

I had forgotten exactly when this picture was taken, so I was surprised to find that it was on the same roll as the Tasman Bridge photo from two weeks ago. That means that was the time I left Hobart before dawn, flew to Sydney, and drove straight to Coonabarabran, arriving in time for dinner. This itinerary is not recommended.

Got a good picture out of it, though.

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Sunday, December 17, 2006


Bringing in the Trees


We went to the local garden center on Friday and picked out our Christmas tree, a Fraser fir. Naturally there was much judging and considering, hoisting out trees and pulling on their needles and spreading their branches. Finally it came down to two trees. I was plucking deciduous leaves from one when I came upon...a rock.

"Look Niles, a rock! There was a rock in this tree! Feel how light it is. Feels like pumice."

"Hmmm! Must've come from Oregon, or Washington. Wherever the tree was grown."[1]

"Wow. This can't be some local rock, right? This is pumice, red pumice."

"Yeah, that's volcanic. None of that around here."

"Well, we should get this tree. I'm going to take this rock home, and we can't do that and not get the tree. This is a cool rock. Imagine this rock coming all that way, riding in this tree, just waiting for us to---er, what's all that on the ground?"

"It looks like, um, pumice. Red pumice."

"Oh. It must be that stuff they use for ground covering. That rock didn't come from Oregon. It came from right here."

"Yeah. Still want the tree?"

"Yes. I guess."

"Still want the rock?"

"No."

Stupid rocks.


At least it wasn't a bat.

[1]But the National Christmas Tree Association informs us that Fraser firs are native to the Appalachians, and grown primarily in North Carolina. So we're idiots.

Saturday, December 16, 2006


Gangsta Wrappers


The Houston Chronicle today published one of those little What-Are-They-Smoking articles in the "star" section (which actually doesn't have a title, just a star), which is what most papers would call their lifestyles section.

It's all about how you can get all creative with your Christmas wrapping, if you have just oodles and oodles of time on your hands. And a substance abuse problem.

Rather than haul out the same tired wrapping paper you've used for years, wrap a little of yourself around your gifts this season.

Yeah, well, unfortunately, this is what they think my "self" is.

A "living" box wrapped by Joanne Brigham incorporates colored wire, moss, cactus buds, a sculptural stick and red paper from an art supply store.

As Niles pointed out, if you received something like that in the mail, you'd call the bomb squad to come blow it up.

And then there's this nightmare.

Dixie Friend Gay gathered items from her garden and home to wrap a package that incorporates a stick, bubble wrap, gauze, metallic thread, a snake skin, feathers, a cicada shell and fur from an old collar.

All wrapped up in an old mattress cover.

These putrid things
Remind me of you...


By the way, somewhere a drag queen weeps because he didn't think of calling himself Dixie Friend Gay first. And then he realizes that he can call himself Gay Dixie Friend, and he's happy again and goes right out and whips up something like this.

A boa wrapped around the side of Blakely Bering's package offers textural contrast to the glitter, Mardi Gras beads and sequin crown on top.

Faaabulous, dahling!

You know, inside each of these boxes is a gift certificate for a Big Mac.

Remember, friends don't let friends take decorating advice from the lifestyles section.



The Prodigal Returns


A lot of people take up this here now blogging thing for a while, and then other things intervene -- babies, houses, work, whatever -- and they just slowly drop it. This happens to even good, entertaining bloggers who seem devoted to their blogs (as opposed to dilettantes like me).

And that's what I figured happened to Stephen Green of VodkaPundit. He got him a fancy new look to his blog, and then he got him a baby and the blog took a back seat. He last posted on September 11, but hadn't posted regularly since late August. So I figured he'd just found fatherhood more interesting or challenging, and he was letting the blog die. Piker.

But no. In fact, he's been sick. Scary sick. Go over there and read, and wish him a speedy recovery. And get him to eat some of that fatted calf.

Friday, December 15, 2006


Foto Friday: Tunnel Vision


Just got off an eight-hour flight, and boy are my legs tired!

Yeah, I know that's not the joke, but they are. The plane was jam-packed, and I have long legs, and the guy in front of me insisted on his God-given right to recline his seat to the fullest. I retaliated by giving him a knee in the back at every opportunity. (Actually, I had no choice.)

After four hours my legs lost all sensation, and it wasn't so bad.

Anyhow, I have challenged the Fleck y Breen to a Yosemite picture contest. Here's my entry: The View---

Tunnel View, Yosemite National Park, Aug. 1995Tunnel View, Yosemite National Park, Aug. 1995


David Fleck put it very well in his post: That can't be real. The earth has done an impossible thing here.

It's called "Tunnel View" because it's directly in front of a tunnel. As I told David, I'm surprised there aren't more wrecks there, where the drivers are suddenly confronted with the impossible.

That's scanned from a print, not from the negative. Often that doesn't work well, but it did in this case (after considerable cosmetic spot-cleaning). I previously posted this Yosemite photo:

Yosemite Falls, Aug. 1995Yosemite Falls, Aug. 1995


That image was scanned from a negative, and you see that the colors are not as warm as those in the Tunnel View photo (the colors in the two prints are comparable). I couldn't quite recover that warmth when I was fiddling with it, but I didn't try very hard. I was torn between the more natural look of the negative scan and the warmer, prettier print colors.

Here's a famous photograph of the Tunnel View, made back when you couldn't fiddle with the levels in GIMP or Photoshop. I have that as a poster. Apparently you can buy that original for an undisclosed price. If, you know, you're Bill Gates.

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Friday, December 08, 2006


Foto Friday: Tas-mania!



Tasman Bridge from Mt. Nelson, Hobart, July 2000Tasman Bridge from Mt. Nelson
Hobart, July 2000


This is one o' them there arty type pictures. I was aiming for something more like this, but it was an overcast winter day, and I had to take what I could get.

The Tasmanian parliament has a batch of web pages on the gripping saga of Derwent bridges, including the actually-gripping story of how an ore freighter smashed into the bridge in 1975, killing twelve people. Here's a contemporary article from the Melbourne Age, reporting "dozens killed". (That's part of the Age's 150th anniversary, and you might wait another 150 years before the page loads.)

In my photo you can see a gap in the supports at the highest part of the bridge, and another on the right. That right-hand gap wasn't meant to be there; it's one of the two that the freighter took out. They decided there was too much freighter at the bottom of the river to put in a new one (it's still there, by the way).

Hobart cam!

Wikipedia entry.

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Friday, December 01, 2006


Let's Get Small


The hell?? Suddenly the font is very small. I didn't do it. Please bear with me while I call the exorcist.

UPDATE: Stand down the missiles. It turned out to be the stupid tiny Mathematica fonts I installed the other day. Although that doesn't explain why no one else got small.


Foto Friday: Hit the Beaches!


Baby, it's cold outside![1][2]

It was in the low 70s and muggy Wednesday night, so we put on the air conditioning. I knew a front was expected, so when I woke up I opened the window to find a cold breeze blowing. I turned off the air. Niles objected, saying it was still warm when he brought in the paper, about twenty minutes before.

But in that twenty minutes the temperature had dropped at least ten degrees. This morning the paper said that it had dropped twenty degrees in an hour, but I think that's only because they only take the temperature once an hour.

Sometime yesterday it was snowing in Dallas (although I don't imagine they got more than a dusting). They were predicting 2-4 inches in St. Louis and 2-4 feet in Chicago (or something like that; it wasn't very clear).

Is Al Gore on one of his global warming warning tours? That's usually good for a sudden cold snap.

UPDATE: Niles says that Al Gore was on the Tonight Show on Wednesday. Ah-HA! It's a miracle we're all still alive!


So: December! Let's see what they're doing in Australia...


Coogee Beach, Sydney, Dec. 1999Coogee Beach, Sydney, Dec. 1999


(Technically, Coogee Beach is in Coogee, but let's not quibble.)

Ahhh. It's summer down there, of course. The Sydney Morning Herald reports that it'll be 80 down there today (which, strangely enough, is what it was here, Wednesday afternoon). Perhaps Al's legacy is still lingering down there. The above photo was taken later in the month, around Christmas.

Can you find Tim Blair in this picture?[3]


[1]This one's going out to my very special friend, Sayyid Qutb.

[2]Oh, and I blame Bush.

[3]Actually, Tim lives in Bondi.

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