Do I seem like a

Do I seem like a Vogue
reader?
I didn't think so either. But I am. Reluctantly. The husband has done a
boatload of traveling over the years. On numerous airlines. As such, he
had ten thousand frequent flyer miles on United: an airline we cannot
ever afford to fly unless someone else buys the ticket because
Northworst has Twin Cities International locked up tight. The miles
were to expire in December and we weren't likely to fly United any time
in the near future to keep them active. Nor, as we saw it, was there
any need to keep them active. Along with the expiration letter they
sent us this handy dandy magazine ordering form: x number of
miles=certain magazine subscriptions. The husband opted for Cigar Aficianado. I opted for Conde Nast Traveler and, because there were some miles left over and nothing else I wanted to order, I got Vogue for shits and giggles.

So, I must admit, it's been fun turning the pages of Vogue
these past couple of months, looking at the ads, smelling the perfume
samplers. It's brought my youth back to me. I have to say, however, I'm
finding the celebrity portraits to be a hoot. They're so different
than, say, a Vanity Fair profile. Their reporters actually make
sure to include some reference to fashion and makeup in the profile.
Like I said, a hoot. Until said celebrity says something offensive and
assumes no one will notice because it's published in Vogue, of course, and no one reads Vogue: they only pick it up to look at the pictures.

This month's profile is on Cate Blanchett. And look at the whopper she let slip in her interview.

"I think you only understand Australia from going into the
dead heart of the country where you travel for so long, and when you
get there, from a white perspective, there's nothing." She's
appalled at the recent election {Australian}result: "The terrible thing
that this current government reveals about us is our absolute deep
racism. There's a very, very dark side to it that I possibly understand
a little better having been away from it. I don't think Australia can
ever be tamed."

Bitch, please.
I know she's a citizen and she has the right to her opinion---yadda,
yadda, yadda--- but just once could we have an actor who doesn't get to
spout their various uneducated opinions in print? Could we have an
editor who says, "No, don't you dare print that political crap! We're
not a political magazine. We're Vogue
for chrissakes! We write about couture! We write about makeup! We write
about shoes! We do not write about politics!
Would that be possible? Never mind that Cate's claim of racism lacks
specificity. It's not really all that important because we have big
brains to work out the problem! Hmmmm. I wonder what she could possibly
be talking about. Hmmmm. Any ideas, kids? Oh, I know. Of course {insert slap to the forehead here} She's talking about fighting terrorism, isn't she? I'm assuming
that's what she's talking about. Ya think? I haven't heard of any big
upcoming Aussie government programs to spear and fry all the Aborigines
for dinner because they have a different skin color, so that couldn't
be be what she's talking about. It has to be terrorism. Or maybe you
think, like I do, that perhaps when she's leveling a charge of racism
that perhaps she should temper her words and make her allegations of
racism specific? Just so that there's no confusion as to what,
precisely, she finds racist. From her statement why, by golly, it seems
as if she finds not only John Howard to be a big fat racist, but anyone
who might have voted for him as well. She slaps the tar on with a big
brush, does Cate. And, of course, she's the only one who understands
that because she's been away from it for a while.
She's in the movies. I hear that there's a lot of travel required with
that job.
I suppose she could just shut the hell up, but she's a celebrity
and we all know that celebrities are people, too. {insert crocodile
tear here}

Posted by: Kathy at 11:54 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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At his birthday party on

At his birthday party on Saturday, the nephew was besieged by his
friends while he was opening presents. Seriously. The scrum of
seven-year-olds surrounding the nephew and---more importantly---the
loot was as tight as Scrooge McDuck's hold on his wallet. In this midst
of all this wrangling, because there was a lot of wrangling going on,
some kid shouts out...
"John Kerry is a big noogie."

Out of the mouths of babes.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:34 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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In the past couple of

In the past couple of weeks, I've been fortunate enough to receive some
permanent linkage from some very nice bloggers! (Woohoo!) In the spirit
of sharing the lurve, I would ask you to go and visit Darn Floor, Ilyka Damen , everyone's favorite Commie Pinko at the Politburo Diktat, Adrianne at Listen, My Children, Naked Villainy and fellow People's Republic of Minnesota blogger, Gary Matthew Miller at Dayton v. Kennedy.
All of them are wonderful, well-written, have keen insights and are
entertaining. Go and visit them and repay them for showing their
phenomenal good taste in bestowing permalinks upon my unworthy blog.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:29 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Interesting. CLAMART, France - Yasser

Interesting.

CLAMART, France - Yasser Arafat's wife said her husband is
"all right" and lashed out at his top lieutenants Monday, accusing them
of traveling to Paris with plans to "bury" him "alive." In a screaming
telephone call from Arafat's hospital bedside, Suha Arafat told
pan-Arab Al-Jazeera television that she was issuing "an appeal to the
Palestinian people." She accused his top aides, who are traveling to
Paris later Monday, of conspiring to usurp her husband's four-decade
long role as Palestinian leader. "Let it be known to the honest
Palestinian people that a bunch of those who want to inherit are coming
to Paris," she shouted in Arabic, in her first public comments since
Arafat fell ill a month ago. "You have to realize the size of the
conspiracy. I tell you they are trying to bury Abu Ammar alive," she
said, using Arafat's nom de guerre. He is all right and he is going
home. God is great."

So, Yassir married a nutjob. {Gomer Pyle Voice}Surprise! Surprise! Surprise!{/Gomer
Pyle Voice}
One wonders what kind of a state Jackie Kennedy would have thrown
America into had she denied that her husband's brains had landed in her
lap.
Draw your own conclusions.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:21 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Where the hell is Martini

Where the hell is Martini Boy?

I'm beginning to get worried.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:14 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Sooooo... Let's recap what you've

Sooooo...
Let's recap what you've achieved so far:
1. You have successfully estimated the size, ascertained how much
people will eat, have purchased and hauled home a turkey from the
grocery store, no doubt braving the wilds of the grocery store parking
lot. This was probably a wee bit hairy, but you nonetheless survived.
Good on you.
2. You have have let your bird sit in the sink overnight to defrost. If
you are a paranoid weenie, you did this in your refrigerator and your
bird is probably still cold. I don't want to hear it.
3. You have prepared your stuffing and have successfully navigated the
caverns left within your bird by some very nice disembowler/decaptiator
at the turkey processing plant. Thank them. They just made your life
easier. 4. You have decided how long your turkey needs to cook for. Go here and use the handy dandy turkey cooking calculator.
There should also have been a little schedule on the bag your turkey
came in. Either way, you can figure out what time you need to put the
bird in the oven so it will be ready when you want to eat. For
instance, according to the calculator, if I was cooking a frozen, defrosted and stuffed ten pounder and wanted to eat it at 5:00 on
Thanksgiving Day, it calculates that I would need to put it in the oven
at 350 degrees, at 1:10, removing it at 4:30, because good ol' Tom
Turkey needs some time to rest before you carve it. The bigger the
bird, the longer it will take to cook. Obviously. It's important to
mention that you---ahem---should stuff and truss the bird right before
you cook it. Don't do this hours in advance. That
would be asking for food poisoning. Ya got it? And now it's time to
stuff your bird!
You might be wondering why, someone, at some point in time, came up
with the absolutely unhygienic idea of stuffing a bird with spiced
bread crumbs. Well, that would be a good question, and the answer
is...I haven't the foggiest idea of why they started doing that. I
would suspect that it's because if you put something in the bird's
cavities, your bird will cook more evenly and will keep your bird from
drying out. I would also suspect that stuffing---or what the hoi polloi
call dressing---became a tasty side dish only because when they cooked
over campfires they didn't exactly have other receptacles to cook the
stuff in. Maybe it's because when you cook something inside the bird,
it transfers some of its goodness into the flavor of the meat (and some
of the flavor of the meat onto the stuffing...mmmm). Honestly, I don't
know why our ancestors started stuffing the cavities of the birds they
killed with stuff. Don't have a clue. For whatever reason, we have
stuffing, and if you haven't been scared silly of salmonella poisoning
by those ever conscientious weenies at the FDA, you too will follow the
ancient tradition set forth and will stuff your bird with good stuff.
After all, if you die, you'll die happy. First off, line your turkey up
on your work space with its tits up. Bring your bowl of stuffing over
to the counter and open up that piece of flesh at the neck and start
putting the stuffing into this little space. It shouldn't take too
long, because after all, it's a pretty small space. Now, here's a tip
you need to adhere to: DON'T OVERPACK YOUR CAVITIES
That phrase should have been so unnerving when you read it that you'll
actually do what I say and won't ask any questions. It's bad. If you
would like, throw a clove of garlic into the stuffing, for added
flavor. By now you'll have explored all of the extra packets that came
with the turkey. If you're lucky, they'll have included a small metal
skewers, about as long as a medium-sized nail. If not, they have them
at the grocery store. Run, Forrest! Run!
Or, as a last resort, find some toothpicks for the next task, which
will be piercing that flap of skin and covering the neck area with it
and securing it with the skewer or toothpick so that the neck cavity is
covered and your stuffing will neither fall out and die a horrible
death at the bottom of your pan, or dry out. This, I have found, can be
a slippery and somewhat nasty task. Honestly, I'd prefer sticking my
hands into the turkey's main cavity and fishing out the giblet package
rather than doing this. But it's relatively easy to achieve.
Once that is done, it's time to work on the main cavity. Woooo. You're
excited aren't you? I can feel it all the way over here. I'm shivering
along with you. Anyhoo, now is the time you will need one half of your
cored granny smith apple. Place the half all the way in the back of the
cavity. Now is a good time to run your fingers around again to make
sure you haven't missed any packages that might have slipped past you
earlier. Don't worry. I'll wait.
You're back? Ok, good. Now, you're probably wondering why I had you add
the apple to the stuffing. Well, again, it's a flavor thing. This
imparts a nice, light, crisp apple flavor to the turkey. Trust me,
you'll like it. Plus, it'll help keep your bird from drying out. As you
might have noticed, I'm all about moist turkey. MMMMMMMM. Good stuff.
Now that you've moved up from beginner to amateur in the stuffing of
the turkey department, you'll have a good idea of how to proceed
stuffing the main cavity. Same deal here. Throw in a few cloves of
garlic while you're at it if you're so inclined. Keeping in mind my
instructions about NOT OVERPACKING THE STUFFING, sometime in the very
near future you will actually come to the end of the cavity. When you
reach this point, you can decide if you're going to throw in the second
half of the apple or if you're going to start snacking prematurely.
It's up to you. If you bought a big bird, well, throw that bad boy in
there and cover it up with the last of the stuffing. If your bird is
smaller, you may not have room for the apple. You are at the helm of
the Starship Turkey: it's your bird, take it on the journey you want it
to travel.
So, now you're more than halfway there. Congratulate yourself, my
turkey newbie! Now, go and wash your hands. GO! I know where your hands
have been and I demand that you wash them before you touch anything
else. Get Auntie Edna to turn on the faucet for you if you must. BUT
FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY WASH THOSE FILTHY HANDS OF
YOURS!
This, my friends, is why I told you to keep the big bottle of hand soap
at the ready. I feel better now. Moving right along, we've come to the
easy part of all this: the outside.
First, take your salt and pepper and liberally shake them along the
entire turkey's skin. You need to do this not only on the top half, but
along the underside as well. Pretty easy stuff. Always, always, always
season your meat---any meat---with salt and pepper. Even if it's a
lowly hamburger. It adds a lot of flavor, even if you don't add a lot
of salt and pepper. Second, wash your hands again. You have once again
touched the turkey. Your hands are dirty and anything you touch in the
meanwhile will have turkey cooties transferred onto it. Aunt Edna has
been begging for something to do: let her turn the faucet on for you.
Third, take your bottle of vegetable oil and get a big handful. You are
now about to embark on the step my mother refers to as "putting on the
suntan lotion." Because that's exactly what you're doing. You will
liberally slather the oil over the entire skin of the bird. You will do
this in lavish style, in a veritable Restoration-like manner, with the
spirit of Charles II and his many mistresses overlooking your shoulder,
covering all the cracks and crevices heretofore unnoticed. Make Chuck
proud: he didn't retake the throne of England from Cromwell and his
cronies so you could eat like a Puritan. This acts as suntan lotion: it
will keep your turkey from frying up, will keep the skin moist, and
moreover will provide a nice crispiness when everything is said and
done. Fourth, go and wash your hands again. Auntie Edna needs something
to do and your hands are oily. Fifth, it's time for the string. Go here
and watch this video and read the instructions.
I can't describe how to do it better than the video shows you.
Sixth, transfer that bird to the pan. If you have a rack, great. Rest
it on the rack, tits up. If not, rest it in the center of the pan
you're using. Seventh, prepare a tent for the turkey out of tinfoil.
Mom calls this "a hat" so, as your turkey is obviously
conspiracy minded, you get to construct a tinfoil chapeau to protect it
from all that radiation, whilst simultaneously roasting it to a fine
golden hue. Good passive-agressive fun, no? Never mind if your turkey
is a moonbat or a freeper: you're going to knock some sense into it
during the roasting process. Aren't you happy? I know I am. Seriously
though, measure out enough foil to cover the entire top of the turkey,
then cut it off. I find the foil actually stays put if I put "borders"
on the edges, by folding each edge over about an inch. The weight of
the borders holds the foil in place, so it's less likely to float off
the bird when you stick it in the oven. Place the foil on top of the
breasts, the purpose of this exercise being two-fold: to ensure the
white boob meat doesn't dry out and that the turkey skin doesn't get
too crispy during the hours your bird will be in the oven. And that, my
turkey newbies, is how to prepare a bird for Thanksgiving Dinner.
In our next installment of As The Bird Turns: "Stop opening the oven and let the bird cook, freak!"

Posted by: Kathy at 11:08 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 1756 words, total size 10 kb.

Ok, so I hinted last

Ok, so I hinted last week that my birthday was coming up. Well,
thankfully, it has passed and I finally feel able to post without
breaking into a long whine about how I'm going to start buying Oil of
Olay in bulk. The urge has passed, and I'm sure you're all thankful
that I willfully restrained myself. Consider it my birthday gift to
you, my devoted Cake Eater readers.
Although, I'm sure no one is surprised that I am, indeed, a Scorpio.
Heh.
Anyway, the big day was on Friday and, to be quite honest about it,
I've forgotten how many times I've turned 29: it's still in single
digits, but it's getting up there. Sigh. The husband and I kept it
pretty low key: we went out for dinner and a movie, which was really
quite the treat. Living in entreprenurial hell does not give one the
budget to go to dinner and a show very often. In fact, what used to be
our Friday night routine a while back hasn't happened since last
spring. A change of pace was served up, however, and we had a good
time. We went to go and see Team America: World Police. It can be summed up in one word: hysterical. Fuck Yeah! Obviously, it's not for everyone, but if you're a South Park lover, then this movie is for you. I miss you like Ben Affleck needs acting lessons. I miss you as much as Pearl Harbor sucked...
I'll leave you with two words that will intrigue you, but won't spoil
it for you if you haven't seen it:
"Matt Damon."
Next it was off to PF Chang's for a quick (and reasonably priced!)
supper. I always have the Crispy Honey Chicken, because I love it. PF
Chang's may not be the fanciest restaurant in town and it's at the
mall, of course, but since we don't have a car, well, our choices are
limited to either the neighborhood, the mall, uptown or downtown. I'm
tired of the neighborhood. We can't afford anything downtown, and Chino
Latino, one of my all time favorite restaurants in uptown (Lileks
needs to lighten up about the advertising and go have some Hot Monkey
Love---a deep fried snickers bar with vanilla ice cream and chocolate
sauce. Advertising complaints can land you in bed with some odd fellows)was
off the menu as well, since it costs a fortune to eat there. So, it was
either PF Changs or The Cheesecake Factory, which of course, had an
hour and half wait. Forget that. PF's it was, and I have no issues with
that: the food is good, the wine glasses there give you a half a bottle
to slurp at a shot, and I can smoke in the bar. What's not to love?
When we got home, the Doctor and ML had called and wanted to throw me a
party the next night. Woohoo! Always a good time, so we made plans to
head over there for dinner after we attended the nephew's 7th birthday
party across town. His birthday is the day after mine, and so we
moseyed over to Eagan to partake of flag football (which was a monster
hit with the eight, seven-year-old boys in attendance)and a cake with a
batmobile on it. Jealous was I, until we got over to ML's and the
Doctor's. The Doctor had a lamb roasting. Baaaaaaaa. There were
potatoes roasted in rosemary and butter. Fresh green beans. Wine, and
of course...cake! It was a lovely night with friends and I had a great
time. And, of course, there were presents.
I don't quite know where everyone got the impression that I would love
Barnes and Noble gift cards, but I have to say, I'm pretty damn happy
that they did! Hot damn! The sister-in-law gave me one, Mr. H. gave me
one and ML and the Doc gave me one as well, which leads in to what I
did today...
...which was to go and blow the whole lot at Barnes and Noble! Tee hee.
That was fun. I love buying books. It's such a treat. When I was
growing up, Mom was of the opinion that she wasn't going to blow a load
of money on books for a kid when there was such a fabulous library
system at hand. When I finally got older, and buying books was an
option, there was nothing I loved more than buying a book. I still love
it. It's great. I went hog wild at the store today and bought this, this, this and this.
In short: I've got enough reading to keep me busy until Christmas. So,
there is the tale of my birthday weekend. I may be another year older
(waaaaah!)and I certainly don't know if I'm wiser, but I had a good
time and that's all that really matters, isn't it? It eased the pain.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:03 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Ok, so I don't have

Ok, so I don't have to cook a turkey this year. Since the husband's
parents are in Arizona and mine are still soaking up all the rain
that's falling currently in Texas, we're staying here. Hence we have
Thanksgiving with friends. Now, I highly recommend this option if you
don't like your family. I, however, do like my family, it's just this
way I get to sleep off the resultant tryptophan overdose in my own bed.
Last year, the husband and I hosted our friends. This year, the friends
are hosting, so instead of cleaning the Cake Eater Pad from top to
bottom, ironing napkins and tablecloths, shopping, polishing the silver
and then
cooking a feast, I'm just making my fabu sweet potato recipe and a
salad. And that's it. We'll head over to ML's and the Doctor's on
Thursday afternoon and we'll eat. It will be good. Even though I'm off
the hook this year, for some strange reason, I feel I should be doing
more. I'm probably going to make a pumpkin pie sometime this week
because the husband and I like it and we'll want our own. I might even
cook up some cranberry dressing to go with the turkey that will be sent
home with us. (They've got a 20 pounder!) While I'll probably only wind
up making the pie (mmmmm...pie),
I still feel like I should be doing more. So, instead of actually
cooking a turkey, I'm going to give you instructions on how to cook
one. Because, amazingly enough, I'm told some people don't know how to
do this. It's way back in my memory, but I vaguely remember a time when
I didn't know how to either. Fifteen years ago, when I was a freshman
in college, my family was having a very busy November. We'd all gone to
Austin for Tim and Darlene's wedding at
the beginning of the month. Then my sister Susie who, at the time,
lived in Dallas, gave birth to her second son, Denver. Mom, of course,
flew off to Dallas to help and it fell to me and my sister, Christi, to
cook Thanksgiving dinner for the family. When we were presented with
this task, Mom told us there wasn't an easier dinner to cook than
Thanksgiving. "It just takes a lot of time. It's not hard at all," is
what she said. Her assertions notwithstanding, we were still skeptical
and told her that we needed line by line instruction. She agreed. And
being true to her word, Mom wrote out everything we needed to know.
Pages and pages worth of everything my mother did at Thanksgiving but
you might have been afraid to ask. Which, when we were done, I stupidly
threw out. I say this was stupid because they could have come in handy
later on. Like after I got married and found myself cooking
Thanksgiving dinner. If only I'd kept that stack of legal paper, I
wouldn't have found myself calling Mom all the damn time. Alas, I
eventually figured it out. And she's right: Thanksgiving dinner is
an easy meal to cook; it's just time consuming. So, for the rest of the
week, I will become your very own Butterball hotline, only without the
1-800 number. You'll basically be getting everything Mom taught me
about how to cook a bird. An excellent idea for a Thanksgiving present,
no? Well, it should be until she reads this and then calls me to tell
me I've got something wrong.
Work up your courage, kids. It's really not all that hard. First things
first: go and purchase a turkey at the grocery store. Do not feel the
need to get a turkey with a pop-up button. You don't need it. I'll
explain my reasoning for this later on, but mostly, it's because I
think people get suckered into spending more per pound for the
Butterball, thinking they need the pop-up button when they don't. Now,
the biggest turkey we've ever cooked was the fourteen pounder we had
last year. That was a big bird. My general rule of thumb when
purchasing a turkey is to---ahem---always go for the smaller bird
you're contemplating purchasing.. The more experienced turkey shopper
will know what I'm talking about: you will see one bird, it's probably
just about the right size and you're just about ready to buy it, but
then you get to thinking. You think about all the people you've got
coming over and how they're going to be starving themselves all day
long and will be ready to gorge themselves, like a lion gorges itself
on raw antelope, and then you start to doubt yourself. You think you
might actually need the fifteen pounder instead. THIS IS A MISTAKE.
Do not do this. Always opt for the smaller bird. It will save you weeks
of eating leftover turkey sandwiches. And even if it does turn out to
be too little, well, think of it this way: your relatives won't be
sleeping dinner off on your sofa; they will actually have the energy to
leave and your liquor cabinet will still have something in it. My
general rule of thumb for picking out a turkey? Well, it depends upon
how many people I've got coming over. Last year we completely overdid
it: a fourteen pound turkey for six people. I broke my own rule and as
a result, we were swimming in turkey, even after we gave a lot away.
Think about how much turkey you actually eat when you're at the table
on Thanksgiving Day: I eat about half a cup's worth, total, because
there's so much other stuff to eat as well as turkey. But I eat a lot
less turkey than other people. In general, I find that about a pound
and a half per person is a good rule of thumb to go by. You might be
like me and eat less; you might have some guests that will eat more. It
all evens out. This option leaves you with some leftovers, but not so
much that you won't want to see another turkey until next Thanksgiving.
As far as price per pound, well, most turkeys are alike, it's the
extras---like the popup button and the gravy packet---that cost more.
Do you need this? Well, it's up to you, but I never have. I go for the
cheapo turkey: I never buy the Butterball unless it's on sale. Does
this mean that I buy the turkey that costs $0.29 a pound? Nope. While
cheap, I still have my standards. My price range lies between $0.39 to
$0.59 a pound, but then again I live in the Midwest, where food is
cheap. Prices might be different where you live, so go for the midrange
and you'll be fine. Now, you're asking yourself, how do I make sure I get a good
turkey? Is there a special way---like when I idotically thump on a
melon in the middle of the produce aisle and block everyone's passage
by leaving my cart in the middle of the aisle---that I can use to make
sure my turkey will turn out juicy? Well, ah, no. It's pretty much
luck of the draw. After all, it's a massive frozen bird wrapped up in
plastic and netting. How could you know? The only person who's got a
chance is Karnak, but he's retired. Fortunately for you, however,
there's not a really big difference from brand to brand on turkeys.
They're all pretty much the same. Just go for it. Tomorrow: Prepping
the Bird!

Posted by: Kathy at 11:03 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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But that little commie pinko

But that little commie pinko forgot to place Cake Eater Land on his crummy little map.

And he has the gall to offer the helpful hint that if we suck up to him, we can then get on the damn map.

Well, baby, I ain't sitting on the Commisar's casting couch for love nor money.

The couch is probably infested with roaches, too.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:00 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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I thought Mike McCurry was

I thought Mike McCurry was dead. I thought he'd keeled over from some
massive Bubba-induced heartattack.
Yet, somehow, he's materialized on CNN. Hmmph.
Honestly. I thought he was dead. I'm not joking.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:55 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Hey, guess what? The humanitarian

Hey, guess what? The humanitarian crisis in Darfur is still going
on...and it seems the Sudanese government took advantage of the
attention hogging US Election. Refugees were moved out by the Sudanese Army in the middle of the night.
Taking advantage of the fact they'd ejected relief workers from the
region, they mobilized the people and have taken them to another camp.

WASHINGTON - The State Department urged the Sudanese
government Wednesday to arrange for the return of thousands of people
in Darfur who were forcibly removed from a camp where they had taken
refuge. Spokesman Richard Boucher said the post-midnight removal of the
Sudanese violated United Nations principles governing displaced persons
and U.N. Security Council resolutions on Sudan. Boucher also issued an
appeal for the withdrawal of Sudanese forces surrounding some camps for
the displaced in Darfur, and for the Sudanese government to let
humanitarian workers return to the region. "We stand with the
international community in holding the government of Sudan responsible
for the violations, and we request immediate return of all displaced
persons back to the camp at El Geer where they were moved from,"
Boucher said.

Of course, the UN has its knickers in a twist because the Sudanese
officials told the refugees that they were just following the UN's
orders. Because we all know that the UN would never allow for such a
thing, but also because its making them look bad with the refugees.
Furthermore, the Boucher claims they have evidence of the mobilization
of Janjaweed militias. Great. Seems now that the international pressure
has decreased---and the rainy season is over with---they're getting
ready to rape and pillage some more!
Then in another story, we have our ever-faithful UN Secretary General talking about there being enough evidence to prosecute for war crimes.

UNITED NATIONS - Secretary-General Kofi Annan said Wednesday there are
strong indications of war crimes "on a large and systematic scale" in
Sudan's Darfur region, where the violence has now affected 2 million
people. In a report to the U.N. Security Council, he said the Sudanese
government has failed to bring the perpetrators of widespread killings,
rapes, looting and village burnings to justice. Jan Pronk, the top U.N.
envoy to Sudan who wrote the report, will present it to the council on
Thursday. He will recommend that members take "prompt action" to get
the government and rebels to comply with U.N. resolutions demanding an
end to the violence, disarmament of combatants, and punishment of those
responsible. Until the government starts taking more than "pinprick"
action against the perpetrators, the report warned, no displaced person
will dare return home and no group will agree to disarm. "Without an
end to impunity ... banditry goes from strength to strength, menacing
the population and obstructing the delivery of aid to desperate people
in isolated areas," it said.

Groovy.

Notice the word choices. Banditry. Menacing the population. Obstructing the delivery of aid. The friggin' AP was more honest in its descriptors when it used killings, rapings and looting. Menacing
the population? Christ. It sounds like they're masked high school
students egging and tp'ing houses, rather than burning them down after
raping, terrorizing and then murdering the occupants.
Also, notice that there's one word Kofi simply refuses to use whilst threatening war crimes trials. Do you know what that word is, boys and girls? Why, it's Genocide.
Can you say it with me? I believe I mentioned earlier in the year that
Bashir might throw a bone or two to the UN and the aid agencies, and it
looks like all the bones have been thrown and he's getting back to the
business of ethnically cleansing Darfur. His experience keeping the
international community out of the civil war in the south, it seems,
has served him well.
The Queen has a better chance at being named the next James Bond than
the UN has in putting Bashir and his cronies, let alone any of the
Janjaweed, in the dock.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:55 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Ok, so Bush is suffering

Ok, so Bush is suffering a setback here in Minnesota.
As of 10:34p.m. CST
Kerry: 682,804 54% Bush: 565, 759 44%
Not good. Except when you look at the county roster.
The metro area is made up of seven counties: Hennepin (Minneapolis),
Ramsey (St. Paul), Dakota (south burbs), Washington (east of St. Paul),
Anoka (north burbs), Carver and Scott (southwest burbs). It's looking
to me like the majority of this vote that's in is coming from the metro
area---a majority liberal metro area. Except for the Iron Range up
north by Duluth, the rest of the state trends right. The percentages
seem to be staying even, even as the vote totals go up. Yet...how much
of that is still metro area votes? Hmmmm.
I present idle speculation, you decide.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:51 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Rolling Stone has published a

Rolling Stone has published a list of the Top 500 Greatest Rock and Roll Songs.

I am hereby rejecting this list because there is not one goddamn song from the Beatles' White Album in the top fifty.

This entire list is a fraudulent self-serving and corrupt. Halliburtonesque kickbacks to be investigated by Congress shortly.

Screw 'em.

Oh, of course Bob Dylan's Like a Rolling Stone is the number one greatest rock
song---as if that qualifies as rock. Next thing you'll be telling me
that Mahler is easy listening---yet, we're supposed to believe this
thing wasn't rigged when Jakob Dylan was on the panel?
Puhleeeze. JannWennerLied/TheMusicDied!

Posted by: Kathy at 10:44 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Four out of five dentists

Four out of five dentists agree: the UN isn't doing the deal in Darfur.
Surprisingly, even the UN agrees with that assessment. Those dentists are onto something!

GENEVA - The United Nations is failing to protect millions
of people displaced by conflict in Sudan's Darfur region and violence
in other hotspots around the world, a U.N. report said Friday. The
world body's approach to the problem of people who have fled their
homes but not crossed any international borders "is still largely ad
hoc and driven more by the personalities and convictions of individuals
on the ground than by an institutional, systemwide agenda," the report
said.
{...}Three different U.N. agencies have staff in Darfur, but their
access to the displaced and their activity there have frequently been
limited because Sudan's government has at times been reluctant to allow
outside involvement, McNamara said. The Sudanese government is allowing
the United Nations access to camps in Darfur, but U.N. activity is
still limited by a lack of staff and funding. That shortage means the
world body has been unable to provide AIDS tests and psychological
counseling for rape victims in Darfur's camps, which McNamara called
unacceptable

.
Why, those pesky UN officials are just like cavities! People starve in
one country (Iraq) because of the UN's internal graft protection system
and they're investigating the matter! People are dying, being forced to
flee from their homes, and enough raping and pillaging is going on in
Darfur to make a Centurion proud, and they're issuing a report about
how they're not doing so good of a job. Wow. I'm impressed, aren't you?
It's as if the plaque in the veritable mouth of the UN just stood up
and screamed to be removed. I'm all for whipping out the drill and
having at it.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:43 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Most definitely gets the oil.

Most definitely gets the oil.

I don't even mind the "surrender monkeys" business.

I'm cheap that way.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:42 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Ok, let's try this again

Ok, let's try this again and see if it takes twenty minutes to post.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:40 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Start watching this on Tuesday

Start watching this on Tuesday nights.

Good stuff, Maynard.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:29 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Surprisingly, the crack young staff

Surprisingly, the crack young staff at The Hatemonger's Quarterly is on the receiving end of the Bush Administration's leaky sieve.

Hmmmm.

Go and read, my dear lefty friends, and feel better. It seems anal probes really are just around the corner!

Posted by: Kathy at 10:23 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Apparently they're not going to

Apparently they're not going to pull the plug on Arafat because Islam forbids it.

The astonishing irony of that
clause being invoked on the leader of the former PLO aside, What I'm
wondering about are the afterlife ramifications. For the average
sixteen-year-old Palestinian kid who's had the bad judgment to listen
to Hamas and has gone and blown themselves up at an Israeli checkpoint,
72 virgins are reportedly awaiting them in heaven.
What does Yassir, with all of his terrorist props but no martyrdom
credit to his name, have to look forward to when he finally dies? In
the seraglio that is heaven for Muslim men, is he going to be a rung
above the martyrs or one below? Does he get the martyrs' leftovers? Or
is there a whole flock of virgins just waiting
for Yassir to get up there? Or since he never blew himself up for Allah
mean he's not going to get screwed when he goes to heaven? One can
hope, but I'm sure there's some sort of provision the Imams are working
out for the randy old coot. Hmmmph.
Yet another example, my devoted Cake Eater readers, of what it's like
to be inside my head.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:17 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Rich finally got off his

Rich finally got off his ass and posted.

This poem is
particularly good.
New York hasn't been all that good for Rich's blogging, I must say. But
I'll betcha anything that once it starts snowing, he'll start posting
like a mo'fo.

Posted by: Kathy at 09:55 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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