Then I watched while the Lamb broke open the first of seven seals, and I heard one of them four living creatures cry out in a voice like thunder, "Come forward."

I looked and there was a white horse, and its rider had a bow. He was given a crown and he rode forth victorious to further his victories.

When he broke open the second seal, I eard the second living creature cry out, "Come forward." Another horse came out, a red one. Its rider was given power to take peace away from the earth, so that people would slaughter one another. And he was given a huge sword.

When he broke open the third seal, I heard the third living creature cry out, "Come forward." I looked, and there was a black horse, and its rider held a scale in its hand. I heard what seemed to be a voice in the midst of the four living creatures. It said, "A ration of wheat costs a day's pay, and three rations of barley cost a day's pay. But do not damage the olive oil or the wine."

When he broke open the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature cry out, "Come forward." I looked, and there was a pale green horse. Its rider was named Death, and Hades accompanied him. They were given authority over a quarter of the earth, to kill with sword, famine, plague, and by means of the beasts of the earth.

---Revelations 6:1-8

Yep. It's official. It's just about over with kids.

NEW YORK -Kathie Lee Gifford will join anchor Pat O'Brien on "The Insider" next month as a special correspondent for the syndicated entertainment-magazine show.

Beginning Sept. 12, Gifford will appear at least two days a week to cover "big name celebrity interviews and the Broadway beat," Paramount Domestic Television announced Monday. {...}

The Four Horses of the Apocalypse are upon us. Technically speaking they are known as War, Plague, Famine and Death, but they're more commonly---and respectively---known as Frank, Cody, Cassidy and Kathie Lee Gifford.

Make your peace with God now, kids. It's not going to last much longer.

Posted by: Kathy at 02:39 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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I had a banana for breakfast this morning. As is the norm there was a sticker on the banana.

Everything's fine, right? There are always stickers on bananas. Then I actually looked at it...

What the hell was the thought process here? Did some marketing punk think, "Hey, most kids have bananas with lunch, and statistics show that shoppers go through the produce aisle before they go to the freezer aisle, so we'll put the stickers on the bananas. This will remind people to go to the freezer aisle to pick up our uncrustables for the entire lunch experience."

What utter bullshit.

It should probably be a clue that when you're marketing your product by putting stickers on bananas that you've reached the peak selling potential of said product. If people aren't buying them now, a sticker on a banana surely isn't going to do the trick.

It's just a thought, but, perhaps the reason Uncrustables aren't selling well is because, ahem, unless you're him, most people would think it incredibly lazy to buy pre-made, frozen, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that have the crusts cut off. Not to mention they're expensive. I looked them up on Simon Delivers. Four sandwiches for $2.99? Or you can get the 18 count for $12.99 What a freakin' waste of money! That's just the epitome of laziness. If you can't slap peanut butter and jelly on two pieces of bread and then cut off the crusts in the time it takes you to defrost one of those things, you have no mad sandwich making skillz. You're hopeless and you are entirely too susceptible to marketing campaigns.

Grow a spine and make your kid a sandwich that doesn't require defrosting.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:39 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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{Insert Ted "Theodore" Logan Voice Here}

"Dude, there are babes galore at these parties"

{/Ted "Theodore" Logan Voice}

Apparently there is no word on whether there are any "historical babes" at any of these parties, but I suppose you can clickety on over and see for yourself, eh?

Posted by: Kathy at 10:14 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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So, it might just be me, but it would seem somewhat iffy to listen to Tom De Lay about "judicial activists" when he associates with some very wacky people. One of those wacky people seems to think quoting Stalin in reference to a sitting Supreme Court Justice is an appropriate thing to do. Even though that particular quote could be construed by some, particularly when taken in context with Stalin's actions, as a death threat.

I'm not trying to tell the Evangelicals how to run their churches, but it would appear that hosting these sorts of "events" and, moreover, being politically active is a great way to lose your tax-exempt status with the government.

But God only knows, if that happened, they'd blame the loss of that rarefied status on "Secularists bent on destroying Christianity and the good folks who follow it." Then they'd probably burn the state tax commissioner in effigy. They might wave a few pitchforks around for good measure.

It gets so tiresome after a while. You almost wish they'd switch it up a wee bit, just for variety.

{Hat Tip: Andy}

Posted by: Kathy at 03:45 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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...has been bestowed on Apothegm Designs.

Go and give Phin and Sadie all of your hard earned money to upgrade your blog.

They'll do a fabulous job. Just ask these guys or these guys.

Posted by: Kathy at 03:10 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 46 words, total size 1 kb.

Hubba hubba, eh?

Emperor Hirohito ordered the unconditional surrender of the Japanese to the Allied forces, thereby ending World War II.

Which, apparently, led to horny sailors playing tonsil hockey with unsuspecting nurses in Times Square.

I suppose if there was ever a time for it, that would have been it.

UPDATE: Go and read about Rob's Uncle Morris, who served in the Navy in the Pacific Theater durng the war.

I'll second Rob's comment: Thanks Uncle Morris!

Posted by: Kathy at 02:41 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Ilovetosmoke!Ilovetosmoke! Ilovetosmoke!

I really do. I know a lot of you are saying, "What the fuck is she thinking? Eeeew!" I can understand that. Smoking is a filthy habit. I know this. I have always known this. If you would have asked me when I was a teenager if I would ever smoke, I would have told you in a definitive way that no, I would never smoke. Because my mom smoked---and still does. Oddly enough, it's not the fact she smokes that bothers/ed me: it was her choice of cigarettes that drove me up the wall. Because Mom smokes menthols. If you've ever smoked a menthol, you'll know that it's like lighting up a piece of peppermint candy and trying to inhale it. I hated driving around with her on a winter's day. Even now I can conjure up the conjoined smell of the car heater and her menthols. GAG! She never cracked a window, either, and if you did, well, you heard about it. Bleech. This is why I never thought I would smoke and I made it all the way through high school and most of college without ever trying one.

Now, Mom used to smoke Salems. I remember as kid I would have to go over to the Amoco station to get ciggies for her. She's write out a note that said, "Please sell a pack of Salem 100's to my daughter, Kathy." She'd sign and date the note, give me a dollar and change and I'd be on my merry way. I'd get to the station, I'd hand over the note and the money, whomever was behind the counter would hook me up. I'd run home with the cigs and hand them over to Mom. It was no big deal. Today that sort of activity would get you prosecuted for child abuse, but this was the seventies and things were a bit different back then. I never looked askew at my mom for smoking when I was younger. Lots of people smoked; she was just one of many. But, of course, this period of time was the beginning of the end for smokers. The Surgeon General had gotten his warning on each and every pack. Everyone was talking about lung cancer, and of course, in the schools, they were starting with the anti-smoking propaganda campaigns. Every once in a while you'd get a teacher who would tell you to ask your parents to stop smoking because it was bad for them. They were, obviously, trying to guilt trip people into quitting. Now, I knew better than to do that with my mother. Mom is generally not someone who tolerates people guilting her into anything: she's the one who does the guilting, not the other way round, thank you very much. The only time I ever asked her to quit was when my father pretty much ordered me to. I was skeptical and was afraid I was going to get yelled at by her. But I knew if I didn't, Dad would chastise me, so being stuck between a rock and a hard place, I went into the kitchen and asked her to quit smoking. I remember her pausing for a long moment. She nodded her head slightly, as if to say, I see what you're saying. She then took a long drag and proceed to reply. Her answer, given in a firm, but polite tone, was, MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS.

And that's a pretty good answer on the whole. I've found it very useful over the years whenever anyone tried to guilt me into quitting. Because plenty of people have tried. Smoking is a personal choice and anyone who tells you that the evil tobacco companies are luring children into smoking with their "deceptive marketing" is full of shit. You should know that. This is a personal choice people make and everyone has the opportunity to say no, thank you, I don't want to do that. Everyone and their brother, by this stage of the game, knows that smoking is bad for them. It is and we smokers know it. We take responsibility for our choices, just like you non-smokers do for yours. It's pretty simple stuff, on the whole.

But, unfortunately, smokers are unable to tell people to mind their own business anymore. Because it was one thing when people took responsibility for their actions, and other people chose to live and let live. Nowadays they don't do that. Now it's all about public health. And God help you if you choose yourself over the health of everyone else. You're a bad person for doing this, don't you know? Where's your sense of compassion for the person who doesn't want to breathe your smoke? Gosh, you really should get with the program, shouldn't you? So, while you're not going to give up your habit, yet you remember what it was like to be a non-smoker who didn't like the smoke, in response you become an overly polite smoker. You excused yourself when you're at a restaurant and go to the bar to smoke. When you were at a bar, you asked if the person next to you minded if you smoked and if they did, you took yourself to another part of the bar. You excused yourself and went outside when you were at someone else's home. Even in your own home, you didn't smoke in front of guests you knew didn't like it. When you smoked outdoors, you picked up your butts and disposed of them no matter where you were. You were polite about your habit. You tried not to put anyone out with it. You, of course, pushed back when some anti-smoking zealot went too far, but, again, you were polite about it. But your politeness, apparently, wasn't good enough for some.

You see, when smoking became a public health "crisis" war was declared. And we all know that all's fair in love and war. So the anti-smoking advocates put out faulty and misleading information about the dangers of secondhand smoke in an attempt to get things their way. Really, some of their lies would make Goebbels stand up and cheer for the blatant use of propaganda. Now, no one's saying it's a good thing to breathe in other people's smoke. It is, however, misleading in the extreme to put an ad on a bus that claims "secondhand smoke kills more people each year than murder." I see this ad on a daily basis. I don't know who has paid for it, because there's no credit listed anywhere on the ad. Now, think about that claim for a moment: secondhand smoke kills more people each year than murder. Really? How so? How can you say, definitively, that of all the people who die each year, more of them die from secondhand smoke than from murder? When someone is murdered, we have the statistics because the coroner who examines the body post mortem has to fill out a form. They have to check a little box that says that this person's death was not natural and then they have to say why. Furthermore, they have to be prepared to testify in court as to their findings. Is there a little box on a death certificate which the coroner checks when someone's keeled over, declaring the cause of death to be secondhand smoke? No, of course there isn't and anyone with half a brain knows this. The anti-smoking advocates are playing games with statistics. They can contribute x numbers of death each year to heart disease, lung cancer, etc. And as we know all of these diseases are exacerbated when you smoke. These anti-smoking advocates then make the massive leap of the imagination by declaring that because people are exposed to smoke every day, then, of course, anyone who dies of heart disease, etc. if they didn't smoke must have been killed by secondhand smoke! Not only is that faulty logic, they have no way of proving that fact. There is simply no way they can prove it. But are they called on it? Nope. Because it's for a good cause. They're trying to save lives!

So, if you're a smoker today, not only do you have these anti-smoking advocates hounding you to change your wicked ways for the good of everyone else, you have the added fun of being forced to pay extra for said wicked ways to support everyone else's bad habits. Because smoking is bad for you. It's a vice, hence the government believes they can tax you extra for this vice. Now, this seems a wee bit illogical, doesn't it? I can't be the only one who thinks this way. Every single branch of government, state, city or federal---at the behest of of the anti-smoking zealots---has pretty much declared war on smokers. They pass legislation saying you can't smoke in your workplace. You can't smoke in bars or restaurants or any number of other places, until the only place there is to smoke is one square mile in the middle of North Dakota. They justify this by saying they're protecting the non-smokers, BUT then they also throw out the excuse that, ahem, they're trying to get the smokers to quit as well. Yet, when their budgets don't balance and they need an extra source of income, they automatically tax the smokers and their excuse is always and forever smokers choose to smoke. So one minute smokers are seen as suckers who are being taken advantage of by the "evil" big tobacco companies, yet in the next, we're making our own choices, hence we're responsible for our actions and the government can tax us for it. Well, you know what, people? Make up your fucking minds. I've had it. I'm tired of being jerked around by people who not only want to tell me what to do in an effort to save me from myself, but who also want me to keep smoking to fund their governmental largesse.

So, having had it with being jerked around by a government who can't think straight, today, I quit smoking.

I also quit to piss off Tim Pawlenty, too.

I smoked my last cigarette this morning at midnight. The husband sat with me and we chatted leisurely. I fully enjoyed it. I timed it so it was the last cigarette of the pack and I didn't regret it when I stubbed it out. Afterward, I threw the empty pack away, cleaned out the ashtray for the last time and went to bed. I'm done with smoking. But I'm not done with the nicotine addiction. This morning, when I woke up, the husband helped me put my first patch on. He gets to choose the location every day because you have to place the patch somewhere between your neck and your waist, on non-hairy skin, but it has to be in a different position from day to day. You can't put it in the same place twice for a week. Next week, we'll start the whole thing over again. Today my patch is located on my lower back, on the right side. Who knows where the husband will place it tomorrow. I'll be doing this patch thing for eight weeks, slowly weaning myself off the nicotine.

You see, when I said up at the top of this overly-windy post, that I love to smoke I meant it. I really do love to smoke. If there was a way to be able to smoke and not be addicted to it, I'd love it. Unfortunately, that's not the case. But there really is something so sublime about smoking. Just the act of pulling one out of a pack, putting it in your mouth, then setting fire to it, while taking a long pull is a beautiful thing. It's partly the method and partly just taking the time to complete a small ritual that makes it so sublime. Those of you who have never smoked, I'm sure, are gagging right now and are only focusing on the bit about inhaling. That's fine. I don't like to go camping or enjoy shitting in the woods, either, which I'm sure are some of your favorite things. Potayto, Pohtato. Live and let live, etc. ad nauseam ad infinitum. But if some of you have ever smoked, you know what I'm talking about. Smoking is a calming thing. It's an act wholly unto itself that, if you bother to appreciate it, is a beautiful experience. I won't say it's religious, but it's awfully close. It makes you slow down. It makes you take your time. It helps you to experience pleasure in small doses. It's lovely.

Unfortunately, though, it's also addictive. Which is what I'm trying to rid myself of. The addiction. I've been smoking for ten years and eight months. I've been toying the with notion of quitting for a while now, but it was Pawlenty who got me to quit. Not only is the Governor of the State of Minnesota too chicken to call this health impact fee what it is---a tax---he's funding education spending out of it! Hence, you can't even call it a "health impact fee" because the money is going to education, not to keeping health costs down. This, I think we can all agree, is not fiscally responsible. So, Tim, in an effort to show you what fiscal responsibility is, I quit smoking. I can't afford to keep paying $3.95 per pack---because, of course Phillip Morris took this momentous opportunity to raise prices by $0.30 per pack---so I quit. It's pretty simple: if you can't afford it, you don't buy it. Right? That's what we have to do in our everyday lives. Why shouldn't you have to do the same, Tim?

Now, if you like irony, you should know that the State of Minnesota is paying for my patches. All you have to do is call the QuitLine and tell them you don't have health insurance and they'll rush the patches right to your door. I lied to get them to pay for it. I think it's only fair since the governor keeps lying to me.

Anyway, I suppose I should warn you, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, that I might be overly cranky over the next couple of weeks. This crankiness might result in much meanness, or it might result in hilarity. Who the hell knows what's going to happen? I've never tried to quit before and while the patch is giving off the nicotine I need, I'm having some issues with keeping my hands busy. I'm a fidgeter by nature and the smoking took care of those fidgets. I'm losing that, though, and while I keep taking a break to throw a tennis ball around, I'm somewhat at a loss because I'm losing that thing that always made me slow down and take a look around. So, long story short: look out.

I would also like to add that I'm closing comments on any posts related to my effort to quit smoking. I don't want any email, either. I'm sure a few of you, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, would love to cheer me on through all of this because you're good people and you're thrilled by my decision to become a non-smoker again. Well, thank you for that, but just send me happy thoughts through the ether, ok? I don't know how to say this nicely, so I'm just going to say it: it's condescending as hell when a non-smoker or an ex-smoker tells a smoker who's in the process of quitting that, "they can do it! just keep going! resist the urges! It'll get better, I promise! think of all the money you'll save!" and so on and so forth. I know you don't mean for it to be condescending, but it is. As hell.

You are a non-smoker. The way I see it, particularly right now, this means you're the enemy. Sorry, but if all smokers are the enemy for anti-smoking zealots, it's more than fair for me to lump you in with them. Even if you despise their tactics as much as I do, if you've ever declared that you do so like a non-smoking restaurant that's only non-smoking because they've been forced to go that route by the government, well, you've placed yourselves squarely with the anti-smoking zealots. You've benefitted directly from their actions. I don't see why you should get a pass. Sorry, but that's just the way it goes. Doesn't feel so good to be demonized that way, does it? But fair's fair. You're just going to have to deal with it. I've taken more than my fair share of crap from non-smokers over the years. I've listened to your fake coughing when you've walked past me, where if you'd just had the balls to ask me to put it out, I would have. I've listened to non-smokers whine about the smell of smoke in their clothes after they go to the bars. I've listened to windy lectures about how dirty it is when smokers stub their butts out on the sidewalk and walk on, while deliberately ignoring the fact that outdoor ashtrays are almost an extinct species, and that, ahem, it's generally a bad idea to throw something that's just been on fire into a trash can. I've listened to non-smokers think that the best way to balance budgets is to tax smokers. I've been told I have no right to mind my own business, in other words. You non-smokers have put your nose in my business for years, implying that I didn't know what was best for me, so you were going to take care of it for me. So, I certainly hope you non-smokers will respect it when I tell you to mind your own business and spare me the condescending comments. I'm a non-smoker now. I've gained that right, haven't I? Right now, I feel like I'm crossing over to the enemy and I most assuredly don't want to be patted on the head and told I'm being a good little girl while I'm doing so.

Ok, sorry for that, but it's just the way I feel.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:58 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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I'm surprised that this post I wrote over a month ago about being tired of the media bleating on about Natalee Holloway's disappearance is still getting comments. I don't know what I expected when I already knew I was the number three Google referral for "I'm Tired of Natalee Holloway." But still...

...I really didn't expect people to start turning on Natalee's mom. That's fine and I can understand why, but jeez people, I didn't write that post so people who are watching the coverage could bitch about how whacked out Natalee's mom is.

You're somewhat missing the point, eh?

Posted by: Kathy at 08:34 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Yesterday morning the husband and I had the distinct pleasure of having breakfast with a gentleman you, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, will know from the comments section of this here blog as Russ from Winterset.

Russ, as has been established, is a biker. As in motorcycles. Not the sort you pedal yourself. In September he's going to ride from Winterset, of course, to New York for the Iowa State/Army game. Since this is something of a long ride, and as a biker you must have your, erm, ass in shape (read as "toughened up") for said long ride, he's making day trips here and there to get his bum readied for this pilgrimage. His first trip was to the Twin Cities and we met up for some yummy pancakes here.

It was a distinct pleasure to finally meet Russ, who is a very amiable and funny guy. We sat and chatted about Iowa State, our various adventures on campus, blogs, shooting fireworks out of dorm windows and not getting caught, and other stuff until the waitresses were starting to give us the hairy eye, because we'd turned into a pack of campers. Before that, however, Russ bestowed upon us some sausage made from Bambi's remains.

For those of you who are wondering if my frosty beer made an appearance at our first meeting. Sadly, I have to report that I did not get to meet my beer, as she would not have fit into Russ' already-full backpack and cooler. (You can only carry so much, eh?) But hopefully she will sojourn to New York for the Army game. Russ made no promises, but I sincerely hope she makes it there. A cross-country trip could be such a fantastic learning experience for my beer.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:40 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
Post contains 451 words, total size 3 kb.

1 Mmmm! I really love venison, but I've never tried it in sausage form. I'm sure it'll be yummy though.

Posted by: Ith at August 14, 2005 02:19 PM (v/kBF)

2 Excellent call on the Edina Grill, Kathy. The pancakes were delicious. Hubby's directions were also good, and I only got SLIGHTLY lost once on the way to White Bear Lake (turned off on Hwy 36 from 635 about 3 miles before I should have). I ended up taking 35 East home Saturday afternoon, and the traffic wasn't too bad. Funny thing, the closest I came to becoming "bumper sushi" the whole weekend was Sunday noon in Ames. I had lunch at Welch Avenue Station, and was coming North down Lynn when some brunette bimbo with Illinois plates on a red Mitsubishi made a left turn RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. I had to lock up my rear tire to keep from hitting her, and she pretended not to hear the screeching and the honking that ensued when I finally got stopped. Sometimes, I wish I could carry a framing hammer in a holster mounted on the tank so I could "diplomatically register my disdain for the alleged skills of some drivers".

Posted by: Russ from Winterset at August 14, 2005 09:00 PM (6krEN)

3 Lemme guess, she was coming out of the Kappa Kappa Gamma house? Or is this your clever way of telling me that it was a Theta that almost killed you?

Posted by: Kathy at August 14, 2005 09:09 PM (QKvIa)

4 Nope, she was coming from the West into that tee intersection just South of Lincoln Way. There was an Explorer turning South onto Lynn at the same time she was turning North, so maybe that blocked her view of my approach. No sympathy from moi, since one of the basic rules of driving is to NOT PULL OUT INTO AN INTERSECTION UNTIL YOU CAN SEE IF IT'S CLEAR. I don't know how to make it any clearer. I didn't see any sorority stickers on her rear window, so I can't assume anything on that front.

Posted by: Russ from Winterset at August 14, 2005 10:10 PM (6krEN)

5 Oh, and just so your devoted readers don't think any less of you, the cooler I used was a softsided carrier, so it was a snap to attach it to the handlebars. Really, it was no big whoop.

Posted by: Russ from Winterset at August 14, 2005 10:14 PM (6krEN)

6 Of course I am jealous that I was not Russ's first Blogger meeting --but I am really glad you fellow ISU alumni had a great time! (Russ: You will be happy to know that NO cooler is required when you pull in to Philly...I don't do Bambi! LOL) Glad you all had fun!

Posted by: ALa at August 15, 2005 03:39 PM (c0E+O)

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BWAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!

Posted by: Kathy at 02:03 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Ahhhhhh. I feel so much better now.

Thanks Bill, you sick, twisted little monkey, you!

UPDATE: I feel I should probably warn people about clicking over. It's a wee bit disturbing. Consider yourselves warned.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:59 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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1 ROTFL! you're oh so talented -- twisted, but talented!

Posted by: Ith at August 11, 2005 12:10 PM (YYIad)

2 Alas, Ith, I cannot claim credit. INDC Bill wrote it---I just opened the door for him

Posted by: Kathy at August 11, 2005 12:17 PM (QKvIa)

3 Well, you're still talented and twisted in my book

Posted by: Ith at August 11, 2005 01:17 PM (YYIad)

4 Who me? I didn't write that. Must have been Robbo. His memory, after all.

Posted by: Bill from INDC at August 11, 2005 01:23 PM (yZMsp)

5 It was fabulous!

Posted by: Phoenix at August 11, 2005 02:11 PM (4N2f4)

6 That's terribly gallant of INDCBill to offer to take the blame off of Kathy. But I really don't know what all the finger pointing is about. Kathy told me she found that manuscript in Steve-O's wastebasket. Someone working on a memoir, perhaps?

Posted by: MRN aka "The Husband" at August 11, 2005 03:35 PM (QKvIa)

7 HAHAHAHHAHAAAAAA! I don't care who wrote it, I wish I had! ; )

Posted by: Chrissy at August 12, 2005 08:26 AM (zJsUT)

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Have you ever gotten around to reading one of those books that you've meant to read for years, but never had the time to read? I know just how you feel. But this week I'm actually doing something about one of my long neglected reads. I'm reading Bodyguard of Lies by Anthony Cave Brown. I dusted a copy of this book at least a thousand times at my parent's house and the title always fascinated me, but I never actually picked the silly thing up and read it. More the fool I. While this book was originally published thirty years ago, it's a wonderfully written account of the intelligence, counter-intelligence and downright deception that was needed to keep the time and location of D-Day a secret. Brown's style is engaging and the meticulously researched material, which could have been as dry as James Bond's martini, is instead fascinating because of the way the author relays it. He takes his time to set up the situation and to introduce you to the players and what their motivations were and the book is all the more fascinating because of it.

Some of the chapters that I've found particularly fascinating describes the motivations and movements of the Schwarz Kapelle---which translates as "The Black Band----who were the main group of German army and intelligence officers opposed to Hitler's reign and who tried to depose him, it turns out, many times before Poland was invaded. Led by Admiral Wilhelm Canaris, the chief of the Abwehr (the secret intelligence and counter-espionage service of the German General Staff), who thought that Hitler would ultimately turn out to be the downfall of his country, they failed mainly because they were wary because Hitler had no problems retaliatiating against army officers who stood up against him and because of a lack of external support from Britain and France.

It's stunning to read this one particular chapter which details Canaris' and the Schwarz Kapelle's movements immediately preceding Hitler's invasion of Poland on September 1, 1939, for it sounds so familiar given the appeasement by certain unnamed countries today during the War on Terror.

If you're interested, take the jump. more...

Posted by: Kathy at 12:13 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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He died last night.

The husband and I take a walk around the neighborhood every evening. It's our post-dinner constitutional. As we were walking back into the Cake Eater Alleyway from our walk, we ran into our ex-hippie neighbor, of whom we're very fond, and we chatted about the wild thunderstorm that passed through this afternoon. In the background, I saw that our other neighbor---Eric, the landlord's roommate---was fiddling around with his car, which hasn't been around the house for the past couple of days. Or at least I thought it was him. There was a fair amount of hair on him, and that didn't ring quite right, because the last time I'd seen him, he was completely bald. But, I thought, it had to be him. It was the same color hair, and if you can lose your hair that quickly, well you can get it back at the same rate, right? It seemed logical at the time. We said goodbye to one neighbor and walked up to the house, greeting another neighbor, readying ourselves for yet another neighborly conversation. After all, this is what you do on summer nights when you live in Minnesota. The weather will turn to shit soon enough, and you won't see your neighbors for six months because no one wants to spend any time outside then. We all hibernate here during the winter, so you work on your relationships when the weather's warm.

Well, it wasn't him. And it wasn't the conversation we expected to have.

It was his brother, who looks an awful lot like him. He introduced himself and then and he had the unfortunate task of letting us know that Eric had passed away last night. He'd been in the hospital for the past few days, dealing with complications due to the round of chemo that he was on for the testicular cancer. He'd been doing fine with the chemo, which he started at the beginning of last month. The husband chatted with him last week and while Eric had said he'd had twenty treatments in the last two weeks, he was hanging in there. He was doing all right, that he was going to beat this. He was even going to work every now and again. He worked at a bank and his co-workers had decorated his car with get well messages soaped across the windows, like people do when someone gets married.

The get well messages were still on the car this evening as his brother and his brother's fiancee packed up some of his belongings. Eric's originally from Ohio. I assume that's where they're from as well. It never came up in the course of conversation.

I didn't know him well enough to be upset over his death, but I'm still very sorry that he's gone. He was a nice guy and he didn't deserve to die. I respected him for his upbeat attitude. He wasn't shy about letting anyone know what was going on. The first conversation I ever had with him was a few days before he went in for surgery. We hadn't met yet. At that point, he was just "the roommate," and was, for me---as a person who's lived in this house for more than five years and has seen people come and go---someone I had yet to meet. It was dark outside and I was walking back into the house, and he walked in right after me, startling me because I hadn't seen him. He introduced himself and then he apologized over and over for scaring me. He was so sweet in his earnestness. We found a few days later about his surgery and thereafter every conversation was flavored with information about his cancer. He wanted to let us know how he was doing, in case we were afraid to ask. He wasn't ashamed that he had cancer---and testicular cancer at that, which is not something I wouldn't think you'd want to advertise if you were a man. He was always talking about how he was going to beat it, and while it was apparent he wasn't pleased about some of the treatments he was going to have to endure, he was going to endure them nonetheless. Because, of course, he wanted to live.

It's just so bloody sad that he's died. If anyone had the right attitude, it was him.

The memorial service is on Friday and, of course, we'll go. It's something of a milestone: this will be the first memorial service I will have attended for someone I know in the Twin Cities since I moved here nine years ago. I said when I lived in Des Moines and I attended the funeral of a co-worker's husband that, ahem, it was time to move: someone we knew had died. It was an odd sort of a fringe benefit when you move somewhere new: when you're new in town, funerals aren't a part of your regular schedule of activities. It does take time to meet and make friends with people when you're new to town. If I still lived in Omaha, I'd probably be going to funerals and wakes on a regular basis simply because that's just the way things work in your hometown. You know people all your life, and then they die. You go to either their wake or their funeral, depending upon your closeness, and pay your respects. You look at the obituary section of the paper every day. I can't tell you when the last time I looked at the obits was.

It's a common thing, death. As common as birth. As common as all the happy things that can happen to you in a lifetime. I think we all forget that sometimes.I know I have. It never occurred to me tonight that Eric's brother was going to tell us that he'd died.

I just hope Eric is somewhere happy and that he's free of pain and cancer.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:30 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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With the ladies of The Cotilion. Go and visit these fine blogs for your weekly fix.

Posted by: Kathy at 04:29 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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You know, for the husband's birthday, I told him he could go skydiving. This will be the third time he's done a tandem jump, and despite the fact the man has ruptured his spleen doing stupid things on a snowboard in the past (and was two hours away from death, or so the surgeon told me), skydiving doesn't worry me. Why? Because someone else is attached to him and has all the responsibility.

But perhaps it's his other hobbies---specifically his gaming habit---that I should be worried about.

SEOUL (Reuters) - A South Korean man who played computer games for 50 hours almost non-stop died of heart failure minutes after finishing his mammoth session in an Internet cafe, authorities said Tuesday.

The 28-year-old man, identified only by his family name Lee, had been playing on-line battle simulation games at the cybercafe in the southeastern city of Taegu, police said.

Lee had planted himself in front of a computer monitor to play on-line games on Aug. 3. He only left the spot over the next three days to go to the toilet and take brief naps on a makeshift bed, they said.

"We presume the cause of death was heart failure stemming from exhaustion," a Taegu provincial police official said by telephone.{...}

Hmmmmm.

Posted by: Kathy at 04:20 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Courtesy of Jonathan we have what would have been a wonderfully insightful and informative article by Andrew Ferguson about the current problems and challenges facing the National Mall in Dee Cee if it weren't for the blatant Dee Cee snottery displayed.

IF YOU WANT A VISION of hell, look here: the national mall in Washington, D.C., at noon on a summer's day. Mom and Dad and Buddy and Sis stand on the treeless expanse, baked by the pitiless sun, looking lost. Dad wears a muscle-beach T-shirt stretched over a Cheesecake Factory body, his hair matted in shiny ringlets round the crown of his head. Sweat begins to show at the waistband of Mom's stretch pants. The air is hung with scrims of haze. To one side the Capitol building shimmers in ghostly outline. To the other, the Lincoln Memorial looms in what might or might not be Hellenic grandeur; it's hard to tell through the waves of heat. Both landmarks seem unreachable, impossibly distant, in opposite directions. Buddy's fanny pack won't stay hitched up, and the intense physical discomfort is the only thing that keeps Sis from dying, like totally dying, of boredom.{...}

See, this is how Ferguson starts the piece off. A "normal" family, in from out of town, going to see the Mall. He simultaneously sneers at this family for all their bourgeoisie manners and appearances yet sympathizes that they're being given the runaround because the mall is so poorly kept these days. It's hard to imagine why he's so sympathetic to their plight due his cariacturish description of this imaginary family. You don't know where they're from. You just know they're not from Dee Cee, as if living in the nation's capitol is the benchmark for having good taste. Perhaps they are imaginary, perhaps they're not, the world being overstuffed with fanny-pack, muscle T-shirt wearing Americans, but I have to imagine there are plenty of people who visit the mall whose manner of dress and behavior don't quite offend Ferguson's delicate aesthetic sensibilities quite so egregiously. To be blunt about it: no matter how informative Ferguson's article is, the snotty tone of the opening paragraphs ruin it.

This is what I would like to know: is there some sort of dress code for when people from out of town visit Dee Cee? You see, I've never been. And I haven't considered it to be all that much of a loss, either, I might add. The husband has and he tells me it's a wonderful experience and that when we go, at some distant point in the future, we have to block off at least six days to tour the Smithsonian. But it's hard to imagine why anyone would want to visit the nation's capitol when the residents are such unrelenting snots. One thing I hear over and over again from residents is how inappropriately people are dressed when they visit the monuments. I've listened to people whine on about the horror of the fanny pack. How no one should wear shorts (even in the summer) to visit any of the museums. How if Congress was really Republican they'd ban the wearing of tank tops. Ad nauseaum, ad infinitum. If you Dee Cee residents would like people to dress appropriately, perhaps you should have a fleet of maitre'd's patrolling all the entrances to town, handing out coats and ties to everyone you deem is dressed inappropriately. Otherwise, you should, perhaps, just perhaps, realize the unwashed masses out here in the rest of the country foot the bill for your largesse. And that perhaps, just perhaps, that might mean you should shut the fuck up, eh?

America is a big country. That there are many, many different styles of dress and behavior that are deemed appropriate enough elsewhere in the country. Dee Cee is a very small place. The rest of the country is huge. You're outnumbered, people. Lighten up.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:56 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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And I should be back to blogging, no? Particularly since I took the whole weekend off. Right?

Well, I probably will get around to posting something interesting later on in the day, but I had a wonderful, relaxing weekend with the husband and I'm still feeling a wee bit logy as a result. It's nothing to do with you, my devoted Cake Eater Readers. It's got everything to do with me not feeling particularly outraged or interested about/in anything right now. While I'd like to pass along my sincerest condolences to his family on his passing, Peter Jennings' death is not even remotely interesting to me currently.

That says something, no?

Anyway, in the gratuitous announcement department, since the boys are out of town this week, I'll be guesting over at The Butchers until they get back.

Heheheheh. They say revenge is a dish best served cold. And since it's been positively frigid around the Cake Eater kitchen lately, the revenge I have in store for my dear pal Steve-o for his outrageous behavior here, here and here, should be nicely chilled.

Much mayhem and hilarity will ensue shortly.

But first I must start the laundry and go and work some lard off my arse.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:56 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Kathy's going to get really mad at me for hijacking the Cake Eater Chronicles like this, but I just need to get this off my chest in a very public manner.

I have finally decided what I believe the problem is with Microsoft Small Business Server 2003 as a whole: It's over-developed.

They've gone to such lengths to be able to accomodate nearly every concievable situation, that the simple, straighforward solutions that most small businesses need become convoluted configuration nightmares.

If I'm building an outhouse, I don't want to have to deconstruct the Sears Tower to do it.

I feel better. I'm sure you're confused. Don't worry. Kathy will probably delete this momentarily.

UPDATE FROM KATH: If this means I don't have to listen to complaints about a software program about which I know absolute SQUAT, the post stays.

Capisce, darling?

Related aside: For a minute there, I thought Steve-o had hijacked the blog again.

Posted by: MRN aka "The Husband" at 02:17 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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If you're a guy who is perhaps, ahem, a wee bit heavyset, please make sure you wear a belt if you find yourself bending over a lot.

Any efforts you could make to reduce the amount of crack I have to see would be very much appreciated.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:50 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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It's not exactly The Hunt For Red October, is it?

VLADIVOSTOK, Russia - A Russian mini-submarine carrying seven sailors snagged on a fishing net and was stuck 625 feet down on the Pacific floor Friday, and the United States and Britain were rushing unmanned vehicles there to help in rescue efforts.

It was unclear whether there was enough oxygen aboard the mini-sub to keep the crew alive long enough for remote-controlled vehicles to reach them from bases in San Diego and Britain.

Pacific Fleet Commander Adm. Viktor Fyodorov was quoted by the Interfax news agency as saying the air supply would last until sometime Monday. However, he earlier told Russia's Channel One television that air would last "a little more than 24 hours."

The Russian sub's propeller became entangled in a fishing net Thursday, Russian navy Capt. Igor Dygalo said on state-run Rossiya television. The accident occurred in Beryozovaya Bay, about 50 miles south of Kamchatka's capital, Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky, officials said.

"There is air remaining on the underwater apparatus for a day — one day," Dygalo said at about 6 a.m. EDT. "The operation continues. We have a day, and intensive, active measures will be taken to rescue the AS-28 vessel and the people aboard."

Fleet spokesman Capt. Alexander Kosolapov said contact had been made with the sailors, who were not hurt.{...}

Seriously, though. Death by suffocation is one of those things that gives me the heebie-jeebies, so I sincerely hope they manage to rescue those poor men. I'm particularly glad that the Russians learned their lesson with the Kursk accident and asked for help early on. Hopefully it won't be for naught.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:25 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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