Why I Think the Way I Do (Redux)

Back in October of 2017, I wrote a post titled "Why I Think the Way I Do." I try my best to understand people who see issues differently - or totally opposite - from the way I do, and so it occurred to me that it might be useful to spend some time in this space explaining to you where I come from, why I think the way I do, and why I'm just absolutely unable to fathom how the greatest country on earth has sunk to this disgraceful level. If you read my 2017 post, you may want to skip the rest of this ... it's changed a little from what I wrote back then, but is pretty much the bedrock of my social and political thinking. In any case, there's some fairly personal stuff ahead, so I'll understand if you don't want to read it ... you can just come back another day and read my rants on other topics, and I won't mind a bit. You've been warned - here we go ...

In a few weeks, I'll be 74 years old (yes, I'm a "boomer"). I'm retired (twice), living on my military pension, Social Security, and investments. I've always been fiscally conservative, but living on a fixed income makes it a lot more important to watch the old cash flow. I'm watching the financial news a lot more closely nowadays.

I was born into a middle-class family in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. My father ran his own business as an advertising illustrator, and my mother stayed at home with us until we were all older; she then went to work, eventually retiring as an executive secretary at an insurance company. My parents were fiscally conservative, strict but fair, and well-educated.

My parents were unfailingly polite and considerate of others, and raised us to be the same. I believe in treating everyone with dignity and respect until they show they aren't willing to reciprocate.

And my parents both had marvelous senses of humor - Dad was a master of the shaggy dog story and Mom was a world-class punster. I like to think I have a good sense of humor, and I try not to take myself too seriously ... by the same token, I don't think much of those who are full of themselves.

I went to a parochial elementary school and a public high school. Both were completely white ... I had no routine contact with blacks (or any other minority) on a daily basis until I went to college.

My undergraduate degree is in Linguistics, with a minor in German (in which I'm conversationally fluent). I am absolutely convinced of the value of learning a second language as a way of improving one's understanding of the rest of the world.

I got my commission in the Air Force via ROTC and served 23 years on active duty, retiring as a Lieutenant Colonel. One of my brothers retired from the Navy as a Warrant Officer, and the other enlisted in the Army (but didn't make it a career). My oldest son is a Colonel in the Air Force Reserves. If your idea of serving the nation consists of wearing L.L. Bean camouflage outfits, owning 30 guns, and carrying your AR-15, extra banana clips, and a huge Bowie knife to the local donut shop, rather than enlisting and serving in the armed forces to face a real enemy, I think you're a useless idiot.

Speaking of serving in the armed forces, I believe it's not only your duty as a citizen, but also a great way to gain exposure to members of other races, ethnicities, and religious beliefs. When your life may depend on being able to rely on everyone else in your unit, it tends to help bring people together and foster understanding and cooperation.

I earned a Master's degree in International Relations while stationed in Germany. As a result of this education, living abroad, traveling extensively, serving in the Armed Forces, having friends in many foreign countries, and speaking another language, I tend to have a pretty internationalist point of view. Yes, putting America's interests first is important ... but in a world where every other country wants to put its own interests first, we need to learn how to balance our needs, wants, and interests with those of other countries so that - as much as possible - everyone walks away from the table with something.

I cast my first vote for president in the election of 1972, voting for Richard Nixon. I remained a Republican until the end of the first George W. Bush presidency, when I left the party in disgust at its embrace of big business and the wealthy and its increasingly authoritarian drift ... little did I know then how much further it would sink in the era of Der Furor. Today I am a registered Democrat. The party has its problems, but it still remains more aligned with my vision and hopes for the nation than any other option.

I serve as a trained, sworn election officer in Fairfax County, Virginia. This is a valuable civic duty, and the training and experience in election law, procedures, and safeguards has convinced me that those who whine about voter fraud have no clue what they're talking about. Think the system is "rigged"? Sign up, get trained, and learn what elections are really like. Don't want to do that? Be quiet and quit showing your ignorance.

I'm married to a wonderful lady who is a citizen of Germany and a permanent resident (Green Card holder) of the United States. We went through a monumental amount of time, effort, and bureaucracy to arrange her legal permanent residence, which is why I have no sympathy for those who believe it's all right to enter this country illegally. We are a nation of immigrants ... but we are also a nation of laws, and those who want to come here should be willing to abide by those laws. I'm on record with my proposal for fixing our immigration system ... unless you've got a better idea and are willing to put it out there for comment, just shut up and color.

I have three grown children and six marvelous grandchildren. I care very much about the quality of the world that they will inherit, so if you're in favor of ignoring the science about climate change, if you support rolling back the regulations that have helped to give us breathable air, clean water, and safe foods and medicines, and if you refuse to vaccinate your children against disease, I think you're a fool and a danger to the rest of us.

I no longer adhere to any particular religious belief, because too many people who do have driven me away with their intolerance and their sanctimonious attitudes untethered to the teachings of the figure they claim to worship. It might be nice if some people could get back to something as simple as the old Golden Rule, rather than using their rigid religious beliefs as a club with which to beat those who believe differently.

Well, that's enough for now. Those are the basic life experiences that have shaped my opinions and beliefs, and which may help you better understand why I rant the way I do on particular topics. What shapes your beliefs and political positions? I hope it's not some shouting head on Fox News, or a podcast, or the latest lame-brained tweet from someone in high office. Leave a comment and let us know what sorts of things shape your approach to life.

Have a good day and a good week to come. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

The Guy with the Socks

The other day Agnes and I were watching the German TV show Galileo, which featured a report that was part of a series covering the experiences of Germans living in other countries ... in this case, South Korea. One of the things the German living there commented on was the amazing array of wildly decorative socks that are sold everywhere in Korea, including in vending machines. Apparently, socks play a vital role in Korean society and are often given as gifts on many occasions. The reason for this is that since shoes are supposed to be removed when entering a Korean home, clean and attractive socks are important as a fashion statement.

How about that, eh?

I did a little more Google-ing on the topic and found this blog post written by Jen Fletcher on the Korea-Canada Blog of the Korean Cultural Centre in Canada (KCC), which goes into more detail on the importance of socks in Korean culture.

Okay, I told you all of that so that I could tell you the story of how I became known as "The Guy with the Socks."

When Agnes and I first met and began dating, I was in the Air Force. At the time, I was stationed in Berlin in a job in which I normally wore conservative civilian clothes, and only occasionally my uniform. After we were married, I was transferred back to the States to a job in which I wore my uniform every day ... and an Air Force uniform requires plain black socks.

Well, Agnes's mother was a lady of many talents, among which was knitting. And she decided that she woud hand-make my socks for me. Thus it was that, about twice a year for many years, I got a box of beautiful black wool socks in the mail, hand-knitted by my mother-in-law.

Time passed, and in 1996 I retired from the Air Force and began my second, civilian career as a contractor supporting the Air Force in the Pentagon. Of course, I now wore snazzy civilian clothes, and Agnes helped me pick out an array of nice suits, dress shirts, shoes, and accessories I'd never had to worry about during my 23 years in uniform. And Agnes's mother, back home in Germany, realized that I was now able to wear other than plain black socks ...

... and those every-six-months boxes of socks began to contain some of the most incredibly eye-hurting, vividly-colored socks you can imagine. Mom seemed to delight in seeking out the most bizzare color combinations of yarns and turning them into socks that were - to say the least - eye-catching. I never knew what would come out of the boxes that arrived from Germany, but I knew they'd be unusual. They were ghastly, and didn't match anything I owned, but they were comfortable, warm, and free, and so I decided to just go ahead and wear whatever came out of the drawer first in the morning darkness.

It wasn't long before my ... colorful ... socks were noticed and commented on. Before long, when I'd show up at conferences or meetings, it wasn't unusual for someone to walk up to me and pull up a pants leg to see what kind of socks I was wearing. People might not have known my name, but they knew I was "The Guy with the Socks."

The pinnacle of my sock fame came one day when I was scheduled to brief the conduct and results of a study I'd done on computer security to a "murder board" composed of retired general officers, chaired by General John Shaud, a retired four-star who had once been the Chief of Staff of the Supreme Headquarters, Allied Powers Europe (SHAPE). For the occasion, I dressed in my snazziest gray suit, polished my shoes, and wore my loudest socks: vivid red, shot with flashes of blue, yellow, and green. I was ready.

The morning's presentation, with questions and answers, went by quickly, and it was soon time to break for lunch, which had been scheduled for a small, private dining room in the Pentagon. As we were walking down the hall, General Shaud came up beside me, threw an arm around my shoulders, and said, "Bill, I've just gotta ask you ... where did you get those damn socks?"

His team approved my project and recommendations. I credit hard work, detailed preparation, and lucky socks.

So that's how I became known as "The Guy with the Socks." Sadly, Agnes's mom passed away in 2013, and she'd stopped making the socks a few years before then as she suffered from arthritis in her hands ... but she did her part to make me famous, and I loved her for it.

Have a good day, and remember - life's too short to wear boring socks.

More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Why I Think the Way I Do

I'm sure it comes as no surprise to you, Dear Readers, that I think Donald Trump is a complete disaster as president, and that I really don't understand how some people can continue blindly to support him despite all evidence of the kind of person he is, the damage he is doing to the nation, and his complete lack of practical, ethical, and human qualifications for the position.

But one thing I've observed over the years is that one's position on any issue is a result of that person's life and personal experiences. This is why I try my best to understand people who see issues differently - or totally opposite - from the way I do. And so it occurred to me that it might be useful to spend some time in this space explaining to you where I come from, why I think the way I do, and why I'm just absolutely unable to fathom how the greatest country on earth has come to this point.

There's some fairly personal stuff ahead, so I'll understand if you don't want to read it ... you can just come back tomorrow and read some other stuff, and I won't mind a bit. You've been warned ... here we go ...

In a few weeks, I'll be 66 years old (yes, I'm a "boomer," with all the baggage that comes with it). I'm retired (twice), living on my military pension, Social Security, and investments. I've always been fiscally conservative, but living on a fixed income makes it a lot more important to watch the old cash flow. I'm watching the financial news a lot more closely nowadays.

I was born into a middle-class family in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. My father ran his own business as an advertising illustrator, and my mother stayed at home with us until we were all older; she then went to work, eventually retiring as an executive secretary at an insurance company. My parents were fiscally conservative, strict but fair, and well-educated.

My parents were always polite and considerate of others, and raised us to be the same. I believe in treating everyone with dignity and respect until they show they aren't willing to reciprocate.

And my parents both had marvelous senses of humor - Dad with shaggy dog stories and Mom with puns. I like to think I have a good sense of humor, and I try not to take myself too seriously ... by the same token, I don't think much of those who are full of themselves.

I went to a parochial elementary school and a public high school. Both were completely white ... I had no routine contact with blacks (or any other minority) on a daily basis until I went to college.

My undergraduate degree is in Linguistics, with a minor in German (in which I'm conversationally fluent). I am absolutely convinced of the value of learning a second language as a way of improving one's understanding of the rest of the world.

I served 23 years on active duty in the Air Force, retiring as a Lieutenant Colonel. One of my brothers retired from the Navy as a Warrant Officer, and the other enlisted in the Army (but didn't make it a career). If your idea of serving the nation consists of wearing L.L. Bean camouflage outfits, owning 30 guns, and running around in the woods waving a Gadsden flag and pretending to defend us against the Big Bad Government, rather than enlisting and serving in the armed forces to face a real enemy, I think your world view is pretty juvenile.

Speaking of serving in the armed forces, I believe it's a great way to expose people to members of other races, ethnicities, and religious beliefs. When your life may depend on being able to work closely with everyone else in your unit, it tends to help bring people together and foster understanding and cooperation.

I earned a Master's degree in International Relations while stationed in Germany. As a result of this education, living abroad, traveling extensively, serving in the Armed Forces, having friends in many foreign countries, and speaking another language, I tend to have a pretty internationalist point of view. Yes, putting America's interests first is important ... but in a world where every other country wants to put its own interests first, we need to learn how to balance our needs, wants, and interests with those of other countries so that - as much as possible - everyone walks away from the table with something.

I'm married to a wonderful lady who is a citizen of Germany and a permanent resident (Green Card holder) of the United States. We went through an amazing amount of time, effort, and bureaucracy to arrange her legal permanent residence, which is why I have no sympathy for those who believe it's all right to enter this country illegally. We are a nation of immigrants ... but we are also a nation of laws, and those who want to come here should be willing to abide by those laws. I'm on record with my proposal for fixing our immigration system ... unless you've got a better idea and are willing to put it out there for comment, just shut up about your stupid wall.

I have three grown children and six marvelous grandchildren. I care very much about the quality of the world that they will inherit, so if you're in favor of ignoring the science about climate change, if you support rolling back the regulations that have helped to give us breathable air, clean water, and safe foods and medicines, and if you refuse to vaccinate your children against disease, sorry - I think you're a fool.

I no longer adhere to any particular religious belief, because too many people who do have conspired to drive me away with their intolerance and (sorry) holier-than-thou attitude. It might be nice if some people could get back to something as simple as the old Golden Rule, rather than using their rigid religious beliefs as a club with which to beat those who believe differently.

Well, that's enough for now. Those are a few of the life experiences that have shaped my opinions and beliefs, and which may help you better understand why I rant the way I do on particular topics. What shapes your beliefs and political positions? I hope it's not some shouting head on Faux News or Infowars.com, or the latest lame-brained tweet from someone in high office. Leave a comment and let us know what sorts of things shape your approach to life.

Have a good day and a good week to come. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

The Internet of ... uh ... "Things"

Warning - this post deals with adult* topics!

There are a lot of Wi-Fi enabled products out there nowadays, and they're being interconnected in many ways as part of what's being called "The Internet of Things." There are many advantages to this: your refrigerator, for example, can know when you're running low on milk and send you a reminder to buy more; or you can turn things on and off in your home while you're on vacation thousands of miles away. Yes, the Internet of Things is bringing you all sorts of new advantages ... and a host of new problems, too.

When everything you own is interconnected by Wi-Fi, that there are a multitude of "attack surfaces" that hackers can exploit to screw up your digital life. As crazy as it sounds, a Russian hacker - when he's not busy working on the Trump reelection campaign - can break into your bank account through your Wi-Fi enabled thermostat.

And it gets worse - consider this article by Angelo Young from a recent issue of Salon: Maybe You Don’t Really Need a Wi-Fi-Connected Sex Toy.

According to the article, a cybersecurity company in the United Kingdom has uncovered a disturbing vulnerability in a ... um ... sex toy. Yes, Dear Readers, meet the "Siime Eye**," a $250 camera-equipped, Wi-Fi enabled dildo (available in violet or pale pink) that can stream the most intimate details of your carnal knowledge via the Internet to another person’s computer or smart phone, even without your knowledge or consent.

It seems that the Siime Eye was designed so that its Wi-Fi abilities were more akin to a router than to a client, making it particularly vulnerable to the hijacking of its signal by potential high-tech voyeurs***.

But wait! There's more!

The article goes on to note that,

"Last month Standard Innovation, the Canadian maker of an internet-connected sex toy called We-Vibe agreed to spend $5 million to settle a U.S. civil class action lawsuit for collecting data from customers, such as the time, date and duration of use, level of vibration intensity and device temperature."

I don't think there's much else to say, except to encourage you to make sure your Wi-Fi password is encrypted out the wazoo if your intimate streaming is of the electronic, rather than the golden version.

Have a good day. Remember that not everything needs to be Wi-Fi enabled.

More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* Although you may end up questioning whether the adjective "adult" is accurately used.

** When I first read the article, I read the name as "Slime Eye," which seemed somehow logical.

*** The Siime Eye website includes this warning: "To be more safe be sure to change the default password. We have created a default password "88888888" so that user can access the Siime Eye but in our Mobile Application interface (for both Android and iOS) we have stated to change the password to ensure privacy. We have given clear instructions in User Manual of Siime Eye about how to change password. We always recommend our users to create a strong password.
Most of the electronics devices including our smartphones, Wifi routers are vulnerable to be attacked by hackers. We all hate these unwanted things happening to technical gadgets. So we suggest all our Siime Eye users to change their passwords."

Ten Interesting Facts

With all the other things going on this week as we speed into the new year, it's not easy to find the time to keep up with blogging, so I decided for today to go simple and dip once again into the list of topics suggested in the 30-Day Writing Challenge. The one I've picked for today directs me to write down ten interesting facts about myself. There are a few problems with a topic like this. One is, of course, oversharing ... there's a difference between "interesting" and "icky"; another is that "facts" nowadays don't mean what they used to; a third is that what I think is "interesting" might not match up with your definition. Nevertheless, I'll press on and present what I think are ten relatively interesting facts about myself that you may or may not already know ...

1. I hosted a radio program on WEBR, Fairfax County public radio, for nine years. It was called "The Audio Attic" and featured music of all genres in playlists built around specific themes for each show. I also did a bogus newscast and had a cast of recurring characters for whom I did all the voices: Wallace Goldersnobble, the Fairfax County Curmudgeon-at-Large*; Wilbur Dweeb, the Executive Assistant to the Station Manager; Spike Bicep, the sports announcer; and several others. People have always told me I had a face made for radio ...

2. I have three children and six grandchildren that I love deeply ... which is one reason why I care so much about good manners, the state of the world, and the condition of American society. I'd hate to leave them stuck with the mess we've worked so hard to create.

3. I speak fluent conversational German, and have studied Russian. I speak German with an accent, but on meeting me, Germans generally think I'm Dutch, rather than American. My old Russian teacher told me that I spoke "a perfect accent without a trace of Russian" ... a measure of her assessment of my excellent pronunciation and terrible grasp of grammar.

4. #3 was a result of majoring in Linguistics at Penn State University.

5. I have lived in two different cities in Germany - Wiesbaden (twice) and Berlin, and have traveled widely in Europe. As you might suspect, Germany is my favorite European country.

6. Agnes and I were competitive ballroom dancers as a Pro-Am couple for about ten years. There's a lot to be said for a sport you can play while holding on to a beautiful woman in a classy gown.

7. I enjoy writing of all sorts, particularly chatty letters to good friends. Some of you already know this from my previous offers of handwritten letters.

8. I have some acting experience as a result of participating in two high school class plays. It helps when entertaining small children.

9. I'm a pretty good amateur gourmet cook. I can't bake worth a darn, but my cooking is quite good, even if I say so myself. Agnes isn't complaining, anyhow.

10. I'm a history buff, with particular interest in the two World Wars and the interwar period.

So there you go ... more than you ever wanted to know about Bilbo in ten items. Now tell me, what should the rest of us know about you? Leave a comment with one interesting fact about yourself.

Have a good day, and be interesting. Everyone has a story.

More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* If you read the header on my blog, you may have noticed that I style myself as the Fairfax County Curmudgeon-at-Large ... Mr Goldersnobble has retired, and I took his place.

Not Just Splitting Hairs ...

I never cease to be amazed at the sorts of things some people will do, like get ugly and inappropriate tattoos or vote Republican. But I think I have finally found one of the most amazingly bizarre fashion trends to come down the pike since ... well ... the piercing of sensitive body parts.

I refer, of course, to the new fashion trend of women allowing their armpit hair to grow, then dyeing it in various colors.

Yes, Dear Readers, according to this article from the United Kingdom's Daily Mail.com, the latest beauty trend is for women to let their underarm hair grow long, then dye it and post the results on Instagram, where there is now a hashtag devoted to the activity (#dyedpits).

Now, I am personally agnostic on the topic of whether or not women should shave their legs and underarms. Living in Europe in the late 70's and early 80's, before the American concept of shaving caught on with continental women, I got used to the sight of unshaven legs and underarms and decided it really didn't matter - and could be quite sexy - as long as proper hygiene was otherwise observed. It often occurred to me that an otherwise attractive lady who didn't shave tended to be far more attractive than a man with an unkempt beard. I even discussed the subject of the underappreciated armpit in this space a few years ago (you can read that post here).

That said, however, I think that the idea of dying one's underarm hair may be going just a wee bit too far in search of high fashion. You can judge for yourself by viewing the pictures of various ladies showing off their dyed armpits at the Daily Mail article linked above, and at the similar article in the New York Post. Here are two representative samples, in which the ladies have apparently color-coordinated their armpit hair with their clothing*:

I'd write more on this topic, but it's really the pits.

Have a good day. Come back tomorrow for some thoughts on the end of the 2014.

Bilbo

* One wonders if their handbags and shoes match as well.

P.S. - Time is running out to cast your votes for the Ass Clown of the Year. Act now!! Vote by leaving a comment here, leaving a comment on my Facebook page (if you're one of my FB friends), or e-mailing your desires to der(underscore)blogmeister(at)yahoo(dot)com. Voting ends at midnight tomorrow (December 31st) and the award will be presented in this space on January 1st.

B.

The Old Hard Sell

Agnes and I don't watch all that much television, but when we do we have to grit our teeth and put up with the barrage of commercials for every product under the sun, no matter how obscure or inappropriate it is ...

There must be an enormous market for medications to treat erectile dysfunction ... there are certainly enough commercials for them. And what genius decides to run the commercials in prime time, when children are watching? "Daddy, what's an E-Dee?"

And how about all those ads for medicines to treat ailments you never knew existed? "Be sure to ask your doctor if supercalifragilisticexpialidoxycycline is right for you!" Why would you take any medicine that has a list of contraindications longer than the list of territories claimed by the Chinese government? "Don't take supercalifragilisticexpialidoxycycline if you are male, female, young, old, pregnant, not pregnant, allergic to any substance formed from any material in the periodic table of the elements, or have visited any location within or beyond the orbit of Neptune in the past 30 days. If you experience a sudden change of sex, turn into a cockroach, or have thoughts of running for Congress, stop taking supercalifragilisticexpialidoxycycline."

Oh, and there's a lawyer out there waiting to help you sue for the injuries you never knew you might have received from the things you never knew existed. "Have your Islets of Langerhans suffered damage from uncontrolled sea level rise? Call the law firm of Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe right now ... you may be eligible for significant financial compensation!"* The next series of commercials will no doubt advertise for participants in the class action lawsuits for the people who went blind trying to read the.00000000015 pitch font in which the fine print is written.

And let's not forget the ads for pawn shops, payday loans, and car title loans ... all of which show deliriously happy people singing, dancing, and waving great wads of cash ... who clearly don't realize they'll spend the rest of their lives paying insanely high interest on those loans.

Commercials. The reason God made DVRs.

Have a good day. more thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* Not a cent of which you will ever see once you're done paying the legal fees.

So, What Does Bilbo Believe?

Those of you who have been with me on this blog over the last eight years know - as I told you at the very beginning - that my interests are all over the place. I find almost everything fascinating (well, except the Kardashian family) and have strong feelings about many topics. I write each day about whatever is on my mind or whatever catches my attention.

I have a new co-worker, Jack, who is both a friend on Facebook (where I also post and comment on a lot of things) and a new regular reader of my blog. As we were chatting in the office yesterday before our staff meeting he suddenly asked me, "So, what does Bilbo actually believe?"

I was surprised for a moment, then realized he had a point. Somebody reading this blog or my Facebook posts would probably be hard-pressed to figure out what my bedrock beliefs are. Thus, as a public service, here are a few of the things Bilbo believes:

Look at the "About Me" block over there to the left of the screen. It reads in part, "I believe in courtesy, common sense, and fair play." Here are a few general comments based on those three fundamental beliefs:

Courtesy. There are Ten Commandments. The US Code (of laws) has 51 "Titles" subdivided into innumerable chapters, sections, subsections, and whatever. For all that, there's no better guide to good behavior than The Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. It's too bad that most people today follow The Leaden Rule instead: What's good for me is good, and screw the rest of you.

Common Sense. Don't go looking for it, especially in politics. 'Nuff said.

Fair Play. To many people nowadays, "fair play" means having everything arranged to their advantage, regardless of the interests of others. I've seen a very good example of this over the last few months, courtesy of someone I thought knew better.

Turning to politics ...

I cannot support either of the traditional political parties. Although I'm fundamentally conservative, I think the GOP and the rest of the political right has lost its collective mind and descended into utter stupidity masquerading as lofty principle. Having no rational ideas of its own, the GOP has decided that government should consist only of reflexively opposing anything the President and the Democrats do, even when those things make sense. The GOP has foisted off a massive swindle on the American public, selling out to big business, the wealthy, religious conservatives, and the partisans of its most extreme fringes. I think the Democrats have some good ideas and are more socially responsible than the GOP, but are as divorced from economic reality as any Republican and are unable to come up with a coherent program that ties good governance to the ability to pay for it. Neither party is fit to govern. Libertarians aren't a great deal better: it's one thing to have "liberty" and "freedom" as your principle objective, but what happens when one person's liberty and freedom to live and do as they please directly contradicts the views of someone else? There's a reason we have commandments, hierarchies, and governments: to impose the order on the chaos that unrestricted freedom brings.

If I had to pick a label for myself, it might be fiscally conservative and socially liberal.

I believe that a God capable of creating the infinite vastness of the universe and the endless diversity of life on earth is utterly uninterested in whether you worship Him (or Her) in a church, mosque, temple, synagogue, reading room, or forest clearing. Nor does He (or She) care whether men wear beards, how you cook your food, whether women cover themselves from head to foot, or what language you use to pray. I doubt there's a God in the traditional anthropomorphic sense of a benign, bearded, robed figure seated in the sky on a glowing throne, worrying about the fall of every sparrow. I do think there's some unifying elemental force behind everything we see ... just not a "God" in the generally accepted sense.

Those are a few of the things Bilbo believes. I'll share more of them with you from time to time in future posts. If you don't care, just come back on Saturdays for the cartoons, Sundays for the poetry, and once or twice a month for the latest Ass Clown Awards.

And if you disagree with me, or think I'm off base, start your own blog.

Have a good day. More thoughts coming.

Bilbo

Your Bizarre Anatomy Lesson for Today

I am not making this up, as Dave Barry would say.

During an interview at the Screen Actors Guild awards, actress Jennifer Lawrence was asked about her stunning, strapless Dior gown ...

She complained that the dress, tightly fitted to prevent wardrobe malfunctions, was "pushing (her) breasts into her armpits," resulting in armpit fat that, in turn, created what she called an armpit vagina.

This was, truly, an image that I did not need to have when I think about Jennifer Lawrence. Or any other woman, for that matter.

As it happens, I have written about the subject of armpits before in this space ... in a 2010 post titled "In Praise of the Humble Armpit," I discussed the potential health risks of various deodorants and antiperspirants, and the fact that there are roughly 1,800,000 websites dealing with the underarms of Bollywood actresses*.

The topic of underarms also came up recently in the context of noting the birthday, back on January 5th, of King C. Gillette, the inventor of the safety razor. I noted on my Facebook page at that time that Mr Gillette, were he still with us, would no doubt be distraught over the popularity of non-shaving characters like the entire male cast of "Duck Dynasty," but might be pleased to note that his invention had proven such a hit with the ladies. As a direct result of Mr Gillette's ingenuity, we can see that even comely prehistoric cave dwellers like Raquel Welch (in the classic film One Million Years BC) and the most filthy and downtrodden guttersnipes in Victorian England or peasants and beggars in the slums of King's Landing** feature glisteningly smooth underarms and legs.

And so we see that while Ms Lawrence's "armpit vagina" may be fat, it is certainly well-groomed.

One might also note that the armpit is also frequently used as a term of derision for certain undesirable geographical locations, as in expressions like, Camden, New Jersey, is the armpit of the east coast. This, of course, is a vile slur against an innocent and inoffensive (well, most of the time, anyway) body part.

But enough about armpits. We have a Monday to face. Roll on that antiperspirant and let's get going.

Have a good day. Come back tomorrow, when we will announce January's Ass Clown of the Month.

More thoughts then.

Bilbo


* If you don't believe me, Google it yourself. You will probably want to rip out your cable modem and throw it out the window.

** Watch "Game of Thrones" if you don't believe me.

Bilbo Answers Your Questions: Part 2

Yesterday, I answered the first two of the questions you posed in response to my "Ask Bilbo" challenge posted last Wednesday. Here are my sage responses to the remaining questions:

The Bastard King of England asked: "Will we ever get a successful third party?"

No. The two major political parties in America are so entrenched and so well-funded that the chances of a third party being successful are remote in the extreme. The most likely candidate for a new third party is probably a hyper-conservative group growing out of the extreme right wing of the GOP, but while it will be extremely loyal and vocal, it will be too extreme for the vast majority of Americans and would be crushed in a national election except in the most gerrymandered of districts.

Kruiser asked: "What kind of political climate do you think we'd have today if Mitt Romney had defeated Barrack Obama for the presidency?"

I think we'd have something similar to what we have today, but it would be dysfunctional in a different way. Remember that Mitt Romney wasn't the real darling of the GOP, and didn't have the full backing of his own party - particularly of the most extreme elements of the right wing that didn't really accept him as a "true conservative." I think that Mr Romney would have many of the same problems that President Obama has with the far right, although it would be somewhat easier for Speaker Boehner to rally his troops. The Democrats would fight him just as the GOP battles President Obama, but with less success, because the Democrats will never be united and disciplined enough to accomplish much of anything.

Atomic Dog wanted to know: "Will we ever have rainbows and unicorn farts in American politics?," and, "Are there any democracies where politics is polite?"

We will never have rainbows in American politics because the GOP sees nothing but black and white, and the Democrats will spend the pot of gold at the end. We might have unicorn farts because they are far more likely to be detected than reasonable and statesmanlike behavior on the part of current members of Congress. As for democracies where politics is polite, I don't really know the answer, but I do know this: for all the asinine bluster and sorry behavior of American politicians, in this country they don't murder each other. Yet.

Finally, Duckbutt asked: "Is there any institution in society that works any more? I've pretty well written off government and education."

Oddly enough, the best-functioning institution any more is probably the much-maligned US Postal Service. For a mere 46 cents* per ounce, you can send a letter** all the way across the country and be 99% certain that it will arrive safely and accurately within a few days. Of course, there are - as with all large organizations - pockets of staggeringly poor service***, but in general, I think the Post Office is one of the last pockets of reliably decent service in today's America. Education is not a lost cause yet, but it's not for want of trying by politicians who try to save money by cutting education budgets and religious buffoons who try to impose their fantasies on children in the guise of "creation science" and "intelligent design," or who relentlessly push school boards to ban books that don't meet their standards of propriety and acceptability. Government isn't completely lost yet, but if people of good will and reasonable attitude don't start electing statesmen instead of partisan ass clowns, it won't be much longer until it swirls completely down the drain.

And there you have it ... Bilbo's answers to your questions. Got any more? Bring 'em on.

Have a good day. Come back tomorrow for Cartoon Saturday.

Bilbo

* I remember when it was four cents per ounce. Sigh.

** Except who writes good, chatty, informative letters any more?

*** Yes, I'm talking about the Post Office in the Pentagon.

Bilbo Answers Your Questions: Part 1

Yesterday I invited all of you to submit your questions on any topic to ol' Bilbo, and as of this moment seven of you have responded. Because I always try to be a gentleman, I'll answer the ladies' questions first ...

1. Angel asked, "What are Bilbo's third and fourth laws?"

Actually, Angel, I have five laws at this point (the number varies, sort of like Gibbs' rules on NCIS). You know that the first two are:

Bilbo's First Law: "Don't let anyone else do your thinking for you;" and,

Bilbo's Second Law: "Don't ask the question if you don't want to hear the answer."

The other three are ...

Bilbo's Third Law: "Never pass up a chance to hug your children (and/or grandchildren) and tell them you love them." I learned this one late, and am trying to make up for lost time.

Bilbo's Fourth Law: "Never drive anyplace to which you can walk." It's cheaper, and you can use the exercise. And finally,

Bilbo's Fifth Law: "Never pass up a chance to go to the bathroom." You'll appreciate this one when you get older.

2. My friend Leslie wanted to know, "Are you and Agnes going to start dancing again?"

Our dancing was cut severely back over the last year by a combination of travel, illness, baby-sitting, and general lethargy. Our current plan is to ease back into things during the upcoming round of holiday parties, and start dancing regularly again in the new year. We will probably not compete any more, but will turn out to take pictures and cheer for our friends who do. In any case, I need to get back in terpsichorean shape for the Tango I plan to dance with my high-school friend Marilyn at the next reunion* ...

She paid a lot of money for that new knee, and it's up to me to help make sure she gets a return on the investment.

All but one of the other questions that were posed are political in nature, and we'll answer those tomorrow. The exception was Mike (who else?), who observed that, "The NSA already feeds me everything I need to know about you."

Thanks, Mike. I was already paranoid.

Have a good day. Come back tomorrow for more answers to your questions. If you have other questions, there's still time - leave a comment or e-mail me at der(underscore)blogmeister(at)yahoo(dot)com.

Bilbo

* Results may vary.

Getting Your Answer Straight from the Horse's ... uh ... Never Mind

This is another one of those mornings on which I have lots to do before I leave for work to do lots more. This, of course, truncates my time available to generate the witty, entertaining, and insightful blog post you've come to expect*, and so I'll have to go to Plan B ... otherwise known as, "post any old thing and at least somebody will read it."

No, not really. I think that I'm going to turn it over to you.

Here's your challenge, Dear Readers: ask Bilbo a question, and I'll answer it. I, of course, reserve the right to be selective in my choice of questions to answer (not everyone wants to know my underwear size, for example), but I will take on any question and answer it for you. It can be personal, philosophical, about current events**, or whatever. Just remember Bilbo's Second Law***: don't ask the question if you don't want to hear the answer.

Leave your question here in the form of a comment, or e-mail it to der(underscore)blogmeister(at)yahoo(dot)com. I will answer them in the order in which they are received.

Here's your chance. Use it wisely. It's not every day you get to tap directly into the accumulated wisdom of your favorite Curmudgeon-at-Large.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* Silly you.

** Either AC or DC, it doesn't matter.

*** Bilbo's First Law is, of course, "Don't let anyone else do your thinking for you."

My 15 Minutes of Fame as a Nude Model

Ladies, ladies! - please stop screaming and gouging at your eyes ... it's not as bad as you think.

In her post yesterday titled Waiting for a Streetcar, Angel wrote about Tee Clothilde's brief (ha, ha) adventure as a lingerie model, complete with a photo of said lady - appropriately semiclad - waiting for her New Orleans streetcar.

That story reminded me of my own brief career as an unwilling and unexpected nude model. As John remembered in his comment on Angel's post, I wrote briefly about the episode in this post from February of 2009 ... but here is the whole story ...

It was the summer of 1969, and I had graduated from high school and was waiting to start my freshman year at Penn State. Looking for something to fill up the time, and not having a regular job, I decided to go to the Colorado Outward Bound School to spend a month at hiking, mountaineering, rock climbing, and generally experiencing life in the wild. I was assigned, along with a dozen other men from around the country, to Monitor Patrol*, which spent its time hiking and climbing in the Rio Grande wilderness of southwestern Colorado. 

About halfway through the course, we were scheduled to do a few days of rock climbing and rappelling at a place called Elk Creek, which we reached by riding in an open boxcar on the Durango-to-Silverton leg of the Denver and Rio Grande Western narrow gauge railroad. The train dropped us off at a place called Needleton, where it took on water and we pitched our camp on the grounds of an abandoned, half-built hotel (the builder had run out of money and given up years before). 

Needleton was on the banks of the Animas River (actually, Rio de las Animas Perdidas, the River of Lost Souls), and on the morning after we'd been dropped off, most of us decided to brave the icy water of the river to wash off a few weeks of accumulated wilderness grime. We crossed the river on a swinging rope-and-plank bridge from the campsite side to the railroad tracks side, stripped down, and waded out into the river to where the water was deep enough to wash.

We were out in the middle of the river, stark naked and bright blue with cold, when we suddenly heard the piercing shriek of a train whistle ... and the D&RGWRR came chugging out of the dense forest, slowing as it approached the tower to take on water. Tourists, mostly Japanese, were hanging out of every window to take pictures of the glorious mountain landscape, the abandoned and collapsing hotel, and the 13 naked men stuck in the middle of the freezing-cold waters of the Animas River.

Oy.

Our clothes were all piled on the shore beside the train tracks, and as we sunk down to our necks in the icy water all we could hear was the sound of millions of clicking shutters, chattering teeth, and the pitiful squeak of our manly organs as they shriveled back into our bodies to a spot somewhere just below the diaphragm.  The tourists were laughing and waving and filming the entire impromptu Full Monty as the train crew took its good old time to fill the engine from the trackside water tank.

I expect there are probably people in Japan whose vacation slideshows from long ago feature a group of strapping young men, blue and shivering and wishing like hell they'd just put the cameras away and move on.

So ...

That was my 15 minutes of fame** as an accidental nude model. Trust me ... you wouldn't want to see me do it today.

Have a good day. Check railroad timetables before bathing in wilderness rivers. And come back tomorrow for Cartoon Saturday.

Bilbo

* Named for Monitor Peak.

 ** It felt like hours and hours and ... you get the idea.

Fresh Air and Exorcise

My co-worker Brenda forwarded me an interesting link from the website I Heart Chaos the other day. Knowing that I am equally interested in history and in strange things, she thought I would enjoy the story of how, 44 years ago today, an attempt was made to exorcise the Pentagon. You can read the full story here.

On October 21st, 1967, I was a high-school junior in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, worried about all the things a shy young man of 16 worries about (i.e., all those cute, unattainable girls who attended my school). In Washington, DC, however, great events were taking place. Seventy-thousand people were gathered on the National Mall to protest the Vietnam War. Many sang or waved signs, others chanted peacefully or smoked questionable substances, and some tried to take a more active stance against the war. One of these was a man named Ed Sanders, who had developed a special mystical incantation which would exorcise the evil spirits infesting the Pentagon, and make it rise high into the air. These are the notes for his exorcism ritual (you can see a larger-sized, easier-to-read version at the I Heart Chaos article linked above):

In case you aren't able to read the small print, the climax (so to speak) comes at step 9, which is "The EXORGASM," featuring "banishment of the evil spirit, singing & shrieking."

Oddly enough, it didn't seem to work. It was probably a lot of fun, though.

Equally oddly, nobody seemed to realize that the correct place to exorcise might instead have been the Capitol and the White House, where the actual decisions on prosecution of the war were taking place.

Moving forward 44 years, one wonders if an exorcism might drive out the evil spirits currently infesting the Senate and the House of Representatives ... but somehow, I don't think it would do much good. The powers of stupidity have grown mighty.

We'll have to wait until next November to try to do our exorcising. I hope we can hold out that long.

Have a good day. Chase away those monsters and evil spirits. And come back tomorrow for Cartoon Saturday.

Bilbo

Ask Bilbo, Part 2

Because there are always a few people who don't get the original memo, we have a few more questions that have come in from those who want to tap Bilbo's Font 'o Useless Knowledge. Here are the latest submissions:

Amanda asked:

Q: Is Agnes your only dance partner and do you ever get into arguments over the dancing? I'm asking this because I'd love to get Richard dancing but I'm afraid I might end up strangling him.

A: No, we both dance with other people as well. Dancing is, after all, a social skill. Dancing with other people helps the man improve his leading skills, and keeps a couple from learning to compensate for each other's mistakes. I would also tell you that it's a great opportunity to get my hands on a lot of different ladies without getting slapped. Or strangled. Most of the time.

A2: Do we ever get into arguments over the dancing? Is a bear Catholic? Does the Pope sleep in the woods? Of course we do! That's why I took lessons from someone else, even though Agnes is a trained and certified teacher. Over the years, I've grown used to getting the eye rolls and puzzled looks that mean what are you trying to do? I must say, though, that neither of us has ever stormed off the dance floor and spent the rest of the evening glaring sourly, like some couples we've observed over the years.

From eViL pOp TaRt:

Q: What effect do you think the U.S. S & P rating being downgraded from AAA to AA+ will have on the incomes of edcysiasts and bikini baristas?

A: (after realizing she really meant ecdysiasts): I believe the S&P rating downgrade will not have a significant effect on this population. Because both have their assets on display for inspection at all times, they do not require the intervention of a "professional" rating agency to assist in their evaluation. The real impact will be seen in the quantity of tips each receives, which is linked to the S&P rating only in the sense that the rating downgrade may result in a reduction of observers' income and, thus, the amount of disposable cash available for pecuniary expression of appreciation.

Duckbutt wanted to know...

Q: Do you know why Baptists are so down on people making love while standing?

A: I suspect it's because everyone has to stand for something, and they've decided to stand for something other than making love. This, of course, will result in a decrease in the number of Baptists in the long term, but that's their problem.

Finally, although it wasn't really a question, my old friend Dave pointed out that at the current exchange rate, the $7.56 left in my retirement account after the latest market disaster will be worth exactly 5.12 euros, which is just about enough for a bus ride downtown and back. I think I may need to take up a new hobby to finance my retirement ... I considered thievery and large-scale embezzlement, but Congress has a lock on those. Bummer.

Any other questions? Just ask Bilbo. I'm always ready to help.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Ask Bilbo!

Yesterday, I invited you, Dear Readers, to submit your burning questions to ol' Uncle Bilbo. In a world and a time when you can't get a straight answer to anything - especially from anyone you've elected - there needs to be someone to whom you can go for the straight skinny, and it might as well be me.

Three of you submitted questions, and so let's get right to them ...

Faithful Reader Chrissy was first up, e-mailing me three questions:

Q: If you could live anywhere (money isn't a factor)...where would it be? Why?

A: Southern Germany. The landscape is beautiful, the food wonderful, the people friendly, and it's conveniently located for travel to Switzerland, Austria, France, and Italy. We're strongly considering retiring there when the time comes, although I'm not sure the $7.56 left in my retirement investment accounts will sustain us for long.

Q: If you could meet President Bush and Obama in a dark alley (nobody else around for miles)...what would you say to them?

A1: To President (George W) Bush: What the hell were you thinking when you started two wars, then cut taxes and borrowed the money to pay for them?

A2: To President Obama: When are you going to grow some cojones and start providing some leadership?

Q: If Cheney was to suddenly become a Drag Queen...what would his/her stage name be?

A: Dickless Cheney, of course.

Mike (of course) was the next person to send questions...he had five:

Q: What is pi squared?

A: Sheet cake (this was actually Agnes's answer, which I liked better than my own).

Q: I've gotten bored with the word verification game. Why?

A: Because you keep losing?

Q: What kind of drugs has Agnes been on all these years to put up with you? I want some.

A: The drugs don't work any more. These days, she's into auto hypnosis and extreme denial.

Q: How can the great Biblo (I think he means Bilbo) run out of words? I've always thought of you as a quantitative verbologist.

A: I never run out of words, just ideas. If I need new words, I just make 'em up. And "quantitative verbologist" sounds so much better than "overly wordy."

Q: Do you want to join my new political party, the conservative socialist independents?

A: Only if I can be in charge of publicly hanging morons.

The last set of questions was submitted by alanwoodhaven, who wanted to know ...

Q: You always have great comics on Saturday. What are your usual sources? How large a collection do you have in your files just waiting for their chance to shine?

A1: The usual sources? - I find new cartoons every day in various places on the Internet, including various newspapers and magazines and the marvelous azcentral.com. I also scan cartoons I find in various hard-copy media, and many are e-mailed to me by friends who spot them and think I'd like them (I accept all contributions at bilbo_the_blogger(at)yahoo(dot)com).

A2: How large a collection? - I have about 2700 in my "new and unused" file, and another 1100 in the "already used" folder. I also have about 500 in various "specialized cartoon" files, which include topics like "clowns," "dogs," "lawyers," "GPS," and "penguins."

Q: What's the speed of light?

A: The speed of light, often referred to in equations as c, is considered an absolute physical constant, and can be expressed in several ways, including:

- 186,000 miles per second;

- 700,000,000 miles per hour; and,

- 299,792,458 meters per second.

The speed of light is also considerably faster than the speed of sound, which is why you see the lightning before you hear the thunder, and why a lot of people appear bright until you hear them speak.

Well, there you have it - straight answers to your questions from your old buddy Bilbo. If you have any other questions, put them into the comments or e-mail them to bilbo_the_blogger(at)yahoo(dot)com, and I'll answer them in future "Ask Bilbo" posts.

After all, if you can't trust Bilbo, who can you trust?

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Whatever You Want to Know. Or Not. We'll See.

What you really want to know is whether or not Congress will extract its head from its posterior, quit firing cheap shots at the political opposition, and do something to fix the economy before we get overtaken by economic powerhouses like Burkina Faso. What you're going to get is more of the same.

But then, that's why you visit good old Uncle Bilbo ... to learn interesting and useful things. Or, at least, things that can help take your mind off all the scary stuff out there.

For this reason ... and because I'm suffering from creative constipation this morning ... let's roll out a topic I haven't used for a few years: Ask Bilbo.

Yes, Dear Readers, this is your opportunity to ask Bilbo anything you want. I will answer all questions that don't involve allegations of past intimate relationships with small animals, my shameful past as a Republican, or my true opinion of S&P, Congress, and the financial mismanagement industry (there are, after all, children who read this blog).

Post your question in the comments, or send an e-mail to bilbo_the_blogger(at)yahoo(dot)com. If I get enough questions, I'll answer them tomorrow. If not, I'll do something else. Whatever.

Operators are standing by ...

Have a good day. Answers to your questions tomorrow.

Bilbo

So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Good Night!

You may remember that cheerful, cheesy song from the classic musical The Sound of Music, in which the 650 children of the von Trapp family marched happily off to bed after breaking out in song. Most children, of course, do not break out in song before going to bed ... if they break out in anything, it's tears and tantrums.

But that's neither here nor there, because the bedtime we're going to talk about today is not for children. We're talking about preparing to take the long dirt nap.

In all the words written in newspapers and magazines and spoken on television, radio, and the Internet about the death of Elizabeth Taylor (even I wrote about it yesterday, check it out), one very interesting article stood out that I am today inspired to share with you: Taylor Farewell Sheds Light on Obituary Reporting.

Yes, Dear Readers, you may have wondered - as I have from time to time - how it is that when the rich and/or famous go to that Big Cocktail Party in the Sky, very detailed reports on their lives spring up faster than snarling Republicans at an Obama-slamming seminar. How is it that all this information - in the case of Elizabeth Taylor, accompanied by endless video clips of all her movies - is ready to go the moment the subject shuffles off the mortal coil?

Because it's all written already, that's why.

As the CNN article linked above makes clear, not only are the obituaries of the famous written well in advance of their deaths and updated as needed, the authors of those obituaries often die before their subjects ... giving new meaning to the term "ghostwriting."

I suppose it's really no different or more macabre than arranging for your cemetery plot before you actually need it (except at Arlington National Cemetery, where reservations are no longer honored). But it's still a bit weird to think that someone might be out there writing one's obituary before one actually needs it ...

I don't know what will be written about me once I'm gone, but the upside is that I won't be around to worry about it.

Do your worst!

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow, with the return (on the correct day of the week, no less) of Cartoon Saturday.

Bilbo

The Science of the Kiss

At this time of year many of us think about mistletoe...men try to corner desirable ladies under it, and ladies try to avoid being cornered under it by undesirable or tipsy men. The whole point is either to snag or to avoid a kiss.

Let's talk about kissing, shall we?

There's a fascinating article on the topic of kissing in today's Washington Post: Sealed with a Kiss - and Neuroscience. If you enjoy the sensation of kissing a desirable member of the opposite sex (or even the same sex, since we're no longer asking or telling), this article will tell you why. It seems that the kiss may have evolved as a way of allowing humans to get close enough together to allow their unconscious senses to evaluate the scents and chemical hints that give clues as to whether or not they will be sexually and genetically compatible. The article says that ...

"During a passionate kiss, our blood vessels dilate and our brains receive more oxygen than normal. Our breathing can become irregular and deepen. Our cheeks flush, our pulse quickens, and our pupils dilate (which may be one reason that so many of us close our eyes). A long, open-mouthed exchange allows us to sample another person's taste, which can reveal clues about his or her health and fertility. Our tongues - covered with little bumps called papillae that feature our 9,000 to 10,000 taste buds - are ideally designed to gather such information. When we kiss, all five of our senses are busy transmitting messages to our brain. Billions of nerve connections are firing away and distributing signals around our bodies ... Our brains respond by producing chemicals that help us decide on our next move."

Well. That certainly puts a new twist on the term sexual chemistry.

No matter. Science or no science, neurotransmitters or expensive perfumes, in the end the sentiments of Louis Armstrong's classic tune "As Time Goes By" still apply...

You must remember this:
A kiss is still a kiss,

A sigh is just a sigh,
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by.

And when two lovers woo
They still say, "I love you"
On that you can rely -
No matter what the future brings
As time goes by.

Moonlight and love songs
Never out of date,
Hearts full of passion
Jealousy and hate.
Woman needs man
And man must have his mate
That no one can deny.

It's still the same old story -
A fight for love and glory,
A case of do or die.
The world will always welcome lovers
As time goes by.

Have a good day with your lover. Or the one you hope will turn into your lover.

More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Virgin Territory?

Disclaimer: this post is for adults only. You've been warned.

Since we are in the season when Christians celebrate the birth of the Christ Child to the Virgin Mary, it seems somehow appropriate to discuss the subtopic of virginity. Consider this interesting, if bizarre story from yesterday's Washington Post: Knowing Cultural View of Virginity, Chinese Women Try Surgical Restoration.

Yes, Dear Readers, from China - the land of counterfeit just-about-everything, where intellectual property rights are pretty much ignored - comes the opportunity to purchase fake (or, at least, surgically-restored) virginity. For the average price of about 5,000 renminbi (about $740), a young woman whose virginity has been compromised through strenuous sports or sexual activity can undergo a half-hour procedure which will restore her hymen to its former place of honor as the guardian at the gates of her Celestial Temple. It is also possible to purchase "revirgination" in some sex shops in the form of an artificial hymen that has all the properties of the real thing, but doesn't require surgery.

Oh, for Pete's sake...

In many countries, particularly in the Muslim world and in strongly patriarchal societies, virginity is a prized asset that defines the value of a woman. In some of those societies, the mere suspicion that a woman has lost her virginity is considered a stain on the honor of her family, and often leads to the woman's banishment, if not outright murder. There is, sadly, seldom an equivalent stigma attached to the man who helped bring about this condition. He's a manly stud, while the woman is merely a tramp who likes to play around. After all, it was Hester Prynne who wore that scarlet letter, not Reverend Dimmesdale, and young men in the Middle East aren't blowing themselves up because they've been told there are 72 sexually experienced women waiting for them in an imagined paradise.

To me, the loss of virginity per se isn't the real issue. The real issue is the potential for the birth of an unexpected or unwanted child who may end up paying the ultimate price for those few moments of pleasure.

Is virginity important? Perhaps. Is it worth committing murder over, or ignoring a potentially wonderful partner? Certainly not.

A popular joke here in Disneyland-on-the-Potomac at this time of year tells why there will be no Nativity Display on Capitol Hill: while there are plenty of asses for the stable, nobody has been able to find three wise men or a virgin to participate.

Just a little something to ponder as you celebrate the Christmas story.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo