Hail to the Blowhard Doofus and Other News from the Electoral Front

A new high was set in reasoned political discourse yesterday when former Bush political strategist Karl Rove referred to Democratic Vice-Presidential candidate Joe Biden as a "big blowhard doofus." Senator Biden, for his part, referred to Mr Rove as "a great American." For what it's worth, I thought that one of the qualifications to be a serving Member of Congress was to be a blowhard doofus, but a quick review of the Constitution (Article 1, Sections 2 and 3) reveals this not to be the case.

Senator McCain has surprised everyone by selecting the relatively unknown Governor Sarah Palin of Alaska as his running mate. As you might suspect, given the typically American high-minded approach to electing our leaders, people are very interested in learning more about Governor Palin. According to this Time Magazine article, the top internet search terms about the governor were:

1. Sarah Palin
2. Vogue Magazine
3. Photos
4. Beauty Pageant
5. Bio
6. Biography
7. Pictures
8. Scandal
9. Alaska Governor
10. Hot

And yes, the article contains a headshot of the glamorous Ms Palin from 1984.

The population of Alaska has gone up by approximately 15% as a result of the influx of two groups of new residents: news teams searching for more skeletons in Governor Palin's closet, and Republican operatives positioning themselves to spin anything that turns up. If the glaciers were in trouble before, this new blast of hot air will be their death knell.

As we get ready for the inevitable round of Presidential and Vice-Presidential "debates" (I put the term in quotes for the obvious reason that they aren't really debates in the classical sense), a little history may be of interest. The September issue of Smithsonian Magazine has a wonderful article on the greatest series of debates in American history: those between Abraham Lincoln and Stephen Douglas in 1858. It's a great warts-and-all look at a pivotal moment of our history.

In case you were wondering, at this juncture, I'm still supporting Nobody:

After all, if we're going to elect an empty suit, we may as well elect a real empty suit.

And that's all for today.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Talking "The Talk"

Every once in a while I get one of those icy blasts of mortality that raise the hair on my neck and make me realize how old I'm getting. I had one of those the other day when my daughter-in-law told me she'd just bought a book to help get my granddaughter Marcy ready to have The Talk.

Ohmygawd, I thought, I'm not old enough to have a granddaughter who's old enough to be ready for The Talk!

I mean, she's only eight years old, for Pete's sake!

But then I thought about the vice presidential candidate whose daughter is seventeen years old and pregnant and I thought, well, maybe nobody had The Talk with young Bristol Palin when she was eight years old. Might things have turned out differently? Or did she get The Talk, and then have the misfortune to meet a Faster Talker? Or did she get the Republican Version of The Talk (otherwise known as "Just Say No to Hormones")?

Yesterday Jessica Hagy posted this apropos diagram at her wonderful blog Indexed:

As you might suspect, it generated quite a few comments (including my (unedited) favorite: "when you knock up the daughter of a pro-life, nra, republican vice-presidential candidate... feel any pressure to marry the girl?").

Now, you can argue whether it's better to have a comprehensive discussion of sexual matters with your child, or just give him (her) the Thundering Biblical Injunction About the Evils of Sex. For the record, my parents never had The Talk with me...they gave me a book filled with annotated diagrams of the appropriate body regions, line drawings of smiling boys with wispy beards and girls with hairy underarms, and clinically exact explanations of things I'd begun figuring out on my own...and sort of let me fill in the empty spaces. In the end, it all worked out somehow.

So I'll let the die-hard family values conservatives figure out how they'll put the lipstick on this particular news pig (they're doing a marvelous job, if this morning's news is any indication), and will write not a single word more on the subject. It's none of my business, after all.

And Marcy can get The Talk from parents who love her as much as I do.

But I still feel old.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Scamming the Nigerian Scam

I'm sure you're familiar with the so-called "Nigerian Scam" in one of its many incarnations. In this scam, gullible morons respond to e-mails from "a member of the (insert country) royal family/recently widowed lady/pious religious missionary attempting to build an orphanage/hospital/old folks home" who needs help in protecting many millions of dollars from someone or another, and has identified you - out of all the many billions of people in the world - as just the trustworthy person on whom he/she can rely...all he/she needs is your bank account number and related information so that they can temporarily hide their millions in your account. Of course, in exchange for your help, you will receive a generous portion of their millions as a reward.

The reward, of course, is that the scammers will use the information to loot your bank account.

You'd think that people would be smart enough to recognize that this is a scam, yet many gullible, greedy, or overly-trusting people are conned each year.

Wouldn't it be nice to turn the tables on these scumbags?

My friend Laurie sent me an e-mail the other day with a clever response to the Nigerian Scam. In this version, the prospective mark has received an e-mail soliciting donations for an orphanage somewhere in Africa...

Dear Robin,

Thank you for your kind note. It is good of you to want to care for the poor orphans. And I would like to help. I will soon be in a position to give several million dollars to the orphanage, having just agreed to help a poor widowed woman from Nigeria to transfer a large sum of money out of the country and into the safety of a U.S. bank. According to the widow, I will soon be in possession of approximately $15 million for my efforts, and I would like to give half of it to the orphanage. To accomplish this, I will need the following:

1. Your telephone number.

2. Your social security number.

3. Your birth date.

4. The account number and other pertinent information for the bank to which the funds will be transferred.

5. The license plate number of the turnip truck from which you appear to think I recently fell.

Thank you so much, and God bless you.

I think that's brilliant, and I wish I'd thought of it.

On a related note, a year or so ago Verizon sent a repairman to my home to fix our FiOS cable that had been cut by some workmen digging a trench (the "Miss Utility" folks who marked the cable's location were about three feet off the mark...). The repairman had a very interesting accent, and I asked him where he was from. "Nigeria," he replied. "Oh, Nigeria," I said. He looked up from the split cable on which he was working and said, "Yes. I had to take this job because all the good scams were already taken."

Well, at least he was up-front about it.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

You've Got to Stop and Smell the Rose...mary...

It's been a busy day, it's late, and I need to go to bed. But I couldn't pass up sharing this picture of our youngest granddaughter, Leya, taken earlier today...

Yes, sometimes you've just got to stop and smell the rosemary...

And reflect that you have four wonderful grandchildren, and only one within convenient hugging range.

Sigh.

Enjoy the rest of your weekend. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Cartoon Saturday

Hurricane Gustav is licking its windy chops as it heads for New Orleans, the Republican national convention begins in just a few days, and Russian troops are still conducting unwanted urban renewal in Georgia.

Now, more than ever, you need a big dose of Cartoon Saturday.

Sometimes, risk assessment is easier than others...


A variation on the old "Backside of Mount Rushmore" theme...


You really need to be careful where you put your campsite (click to enlarge the image)...

Somehow, I don't think airline fees are coming down any time soon...

And it can be lonely at the political top...

It's been a long and occasionally testy week. I can hardly wait 'til the next one.

Have a safe and happy Labor Day weekend if you're one of my US readers, and a good generic weekend if you're elsewhere. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Best Supporting Actor in a Science Fiction/Horror Film

I love 1950's and 60's vintage horror movies. They're so awful. The special effects are decidedly unspecial, the dialog stilted and silly (especially when the English dialog is dubbed over the Japanese film), and the creatures are more goofy than frightening.

Today's horror films are generally much better, if only from the special effects perspective. Monsters look more monstery, if you get my drift. You don't see the zipper up Godzilla's back any more.


Last night, I missed a rare, golden opportunity to film and star in my own Sci-Fi/Horror movie.

Yes, we cleaned out the refrigerator.

This has been a project a long time in preparation, because government bureaucracies move with all the blazing speed of wet cement, and there are a lot of different offices that have a vote when you're dealing with hazardous materials. Many of them just shook their heads and wished us luck. Vladimir Putin sent an e-mail blaming the mess in the refrigerator on the US government, and we even got a video tape from Osama bin Laden asking if he could have anything useful to support his Infidel-No-More research program.

The project began easily enough; we opened the refrigerator door and I held a contractor-strength trash bag open in front and whistled, whereupon everything capable of moving under its own power rushed out into the bag. I quickly sealed the bag and rushed it out to the EPA-approved dumpster.

Next, Agnes and I donned our moon suits and respirators and began decanting accumulated greenish-brown liquids out of the vegetable drawers and into lead-lined canisters. We then used tongs to remove all the soggy lettuce carcasses, droopy cucumbers, and furry objects which may at one time have been fruits or vegetables.

We then moved on to the upper shelves, trying to identify things before we threw them out:

Agnes: is this a pork chop?

Bilbo: do pork chops usually wave at you?

Hairy cheeses, ossified soups, gray meats, we got rid of it all. There were, of course, some unusual questions we needed to answer:

Why do we have fourteen bottles of steak sauce?

Is it safe to keep heat-and-serve meals dating from the Truman administration?


How many kinds of mustard do we really need?

Who put the ram in the rama-lama-ding-dong?

And how long have these Ding Dongs been in there, anyhow?


Once all the really dangerous things had been removed, we took out all the shelves and drawers, washed and disinfected them, wiped down all the jars and bottles we intended to keep, and replaced everything into the now-sparkling clean and non-odiferous refrigerator. The various inspectors examined our work, declared it good, and removed the biohazard signs from our front yard.

So if you want to come by for a snack, it's okay.

Really.

But I really wish we'd have filmed the job. I've always wanted my own Oscar.

Have a good day. Cartoon Saturday coming tomorrow.

Bilbo

Making the Olympics More Interesting

I didn’t watch much of the recent Olympics. To tell the truth, I just didn’t care. Michael Phelps? Good on ya, pal – great job. Women’s beach volleyball? Fun to watch, but I hate having to keep changing my drool-soaked t-shirts. Boxing? I never could get off on watching people beat each other’s brains out.

I also got tired of hearing about all the products that were “The Official ____” of the Olympics. I don’t really need to know that Acme makes the official jet skates of the Olympics, guaranteed to catch pesky Roadrunners.

Maybe I could get interested in the Olympics if some changes were made. One of my friends forwarded me an e-mail yesterday that suggested combining various events to increase the level of excitement. I thought that was an excellent idea, and have a few suggestions for game combinations for the IOC to consider to liven up the 2012 London games:

Fencing and Archery – played at a distance, you gain points for shooting your foil into your opponent;

Synchronized Swimming and Greco-Roman Wrestling – your team wins when they simultaneously pin their opponents until the bubbles stop coming up;

Basketball and Judo – you get extra points for throwing both the ball and the opposing player through the hoop;

Equestrian Jumping and Weight Lifting – instead of jumping the horse over the obstacle, you’d have to lift it across;

Hockey and Shooting – it would certainly liven up some of the fights, and the penalty box could double as a first aid station;

And finally,

Women's Beach Volleyball and the Women’s 100m Breaststroke – no more of that patting your teammate on the fanny…

Don't thank me. Think of it as my way of helping bring the Olympics into the modern era. And if you have any other events to suggest, lay 'em on me. Together, we'll make the London Games much more exciting.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Evil Overlord Seeks Henchmen...

I couldn't pass up adding this as a second post today. One of my coworkers this morning - before reading my blog post - sent around this link to a Craigslist ad from England: HENCHMEN NEEDED.

Timing is everything...read it and laugh hysterically.

Enjoy the rest of your day. More thoughts coming.

Bilbo

The Evil Overlord List

Having kicked over the discussional anthill with yesterday's post, it's probably a good idea to take a day or two and fall back to a less-contentious issue so that things can come back down to a gentle simmer. How about considering some guidelines that will help with achieving your goals...assuming that one of your goals is "taking over the world?"

A gentleman named Peter Anspach created a marvelous website a few years ago called Evil Overlord, Inc. The top feature of the site is Peter's Evil Overlord List, dedicated to the top 100 things he would do if he were an Evil Overlord. It lists all the stupid things villains do in books and movies that lead to their undoing, and indicates how to avoid making those mistakes and be a effective Evil Overlord. Check out the list. It's fun.

The Evil Overlord List was augmented at some point with the addition of some guidelines for the cultists who exist to serve evil overlords. This list has been in my ya-ha files for years, and I don't remember where I originally found it, so I don't know who gets the credit...unfortunately, it's not me. Bummer...

How To Be A Cultist

Recently, the Society For Evil Overlords has noticed a regrettable decline in the availability and quality of fanatical henchmen, evil priests, and willing sacrificial victims. We wish to correct this growing problem by submitting the following general guidelines for Cultists.

1. Pick one faith and stay with it. Dilettantism is the mark of the amateur.

2. Avoid needless embarrassment. Practice the correct pronunciation of your deity's name in the privacy of your own room before chanting it in public. Flash cards are often helpful.

3. Never invoke anything bigger than your head.

4. Avoid all cabalistic jewelry over ten pounds in weight-- it attracts unwelcome attention from tourists, policemen, various supernatural creatures, and can be downright dangerous during thunderstorms.

5. Citronella candles may not be used in rituals. I cannot stress this enough. Pastel-colored candles in the shape of cute animals are like beacons to the Powers of Darkness.

6. Always keep your kit with you: candles, chalk, incense, silver knife, Thuggee cord, service revolver, garlic, Yellow Sign, cab fare, condoms, and change.

7. NEVER be the cultist that goes to rough up the hero(es). Ransacking hotel rooms is probably safe, but going 'round to beat up the good guys is a sure route to the bottom of the Thames.

8. When the Black Mass goes awry, stay away from the Evil Priest. Enraged demons always go for the pompous.

9. Don't gloat.

10. If you can't resist gloating, don't reveal your plans.

11. If you do gloat and reveal your plans, don't leave the hero(es) to die slowly. They don't.

12. If you gloat, reveal your plans, and leave the hero(es) to die slowly, don't have the audacity to look surprised when they turn up at the last moment to foil your evil plot.

13. The hero (or heroes) will always show up at the last possible moment to foil your plans. With this in mind, start half an hour early-- they hate that.

14. Plan ahead by selecting ceremonial robes that are easy to run in while still affording ample concealment.

15. Never screw anything whose genetic structure you are not absolutely comfortable with.

16. Never admit to screwing anything whose genetic structure you are not absolutely comfortable with.

17. When a religious artifact begins emitting light, CLOSE YOUR EYES. Thousands of cultists could be saved every year if they'd just remember this simple safety tip.

18. When mutilating cattle, avoid the ones with testicles.

19. During ritual sacrificing, taking bits home for later is now generally considered "bad form."

20. Blood tests are now required for all sacrificial victims before the ritual. The effects of HIV+ offerings on the average malefic deity have never been witnessed by anyone living, or even intact.

21. Contrary to historical belief, drugs and invocations do not mix. When the shit comes down, it is vitally necessary to be able to discern between the gibbering monstrosity to throw the holy water on and the gibbering monstrosity that will fade away after a few hours, some B-complex, and a good hot bath.

22. Never play strip Tarot.

23. Piety and belief are powerful things, and few forces in nature can stand against one who is true to his faith, his God, and his own soul. However, it is also true that the Gods tend to side with the heaviest artillery, so be prepared change sides at the drop of a hat.

24. For those situations where a fresh, living sacrifice is just not feasible (or even possible), the lower ranks of demons can be fooled by microwaving a previously-frozen chunk of ex-victim and cleverly jiggling it. However, a mock victim sculpted from Spam(tm) is not appropriate.

Don't thank me - consider it a public service. And if you ever become an Evil Overlord and need an opinionated blogger to flack for you, I'm always here. Just call. Too bad about #22, though.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Culture Clash

Last Friday my office held its annual picnic. You know what that is - the annual opportunity to spend quality time with the people you already spend more time with than you do with your family, except you have to bring food and you get a sunburn and mosquito bites. Here's some of the food:

For the second year in a row, we held our picnic at Pohick Bay Regional Park, a very nice, shady location near the water with plenty of picnic tables, room for a volleyball net and horseshoe pit, nearby toilets (after age 50, you look for that first), and a really spectacular new, multifaceted climbing gym for the kids.

We had the usual loud, raucous picnic. It was a beautiful day, full-contact volleyball and tug-of-war were played, the water balloon toss was as wet as ever, and a grand time was had by all.

But there was one incident that made me think a little bit about the clash of cultures in modern-day America.

Late in the morning, another group arrived at the park and set up a picnic in the area adjacent to ours. These people were obviously Muslims, as the women were all dressed from head to foot in long, black robes and headscarves (in spite of temperatures in the mid-80's). They kept to themselves and were very quiet in contrast to our happily hysterical antics. The incident that got my attention, though, happened late in the day when I walked over to the children's climbing gym to deliver a message to one of the ladies of our group, who was supervising her child at play. As I approached the gym, three or four young girls from the Muslim group - all easily distinguished by their dark robes and headscarves - immediately stopped playing and returned to their tables.

I don't think I looked particularly threatening, and I never made any attempt to talk to, much less look at them, but somehow they seemed to view me as - if not a threat, then at least as an undesirable interloper. I know from my study that Muslims are enjoined, either by the Koran or by the hadiths (things Mohammed and his friends supposedly said and did) to never mingle or make friends with infidels, because we'll pollute their pure religion, and I also know that Muslim women are supposed to be "modest" and to avoid any contact with men to whom they are not related. But to see children having fun break it off and leave simply because I walked up to speak with someone else sent me a powerful message. That message was: we don't want to have anything to do with you.

Perhaps I'm overreacting, but I don't think so. People used to come to this country because they wanted to be Americans and to enjoy the freedoms and opportunities it offered. Now, Muslims come and want only to remain in their tight little communities, interested only in maintaining their medieval beliefs and imposing them on everyone else. We are, after all, only infidels, and the Koran says it's all right to kill or enslave us if we don't choose to see the peaceful Islamic light.

They've done a marvelous job of screwing up the Middle East. I hope we don't allow them the opportunity to screw up America as well.

And it's a shame that I had to think about this in the context of a happy summer picnic.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo