February 28, 2006
Well, this sixty-year-old granny jumped on his back and just about had her arm torn off; however, she hung on long enough for friend to get away and her son to shoot and kill it.
Now she has been awarded Australia's highest civilian bravery award, the Star of Courage.
If that were not enough, here's a story of a South African guy who lost his wedding ring legitimately, a croc ate it, along with his arm...
G'day, Mates!
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My old drinking buddy, Bruce, once detailed his blogging personality for me, which made me ponder things. In person, his demeanor is quite soft-spoken, and as much as he is embarrassed when I mention this, he is quite polite and would do just about anything within his power for a friend. In his writings, however, he appears very abrasive at times. Perhaps the context of his blog facilitates this temporary personality, since his main subject of discussion is political and social commentary.
As to myself, Sadie exists as a mere part of the person behind her. Like every other blogger, this girl behind the girl is multifarious, and trust me, I'm only 25% interesting. Fortunately, most days that percentage shows through in the writing, so what I blog about is indeed truthful, yet amplified. For example - Sadie the Blogger is stunningly beautiful and can do quadratic equations in her head. Sadie the Person Sadie is pretty cute and vaguely remembers quadradic equations, but I can recite several jokes about them. Does that count?
How does your blogging persona differ from your reality-based self?
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February 27, 2006
Kenny Dreer Norton. Kenny Dreer is an exceptionally gifted mechanic from the Pacific Northwest. He's a part owner of the Norton brand now, but up until a couple of years ago, he specialized in restoring old Norton Commandos. It got to the point where he had to manufacture so many of the parts himself, he said "screw this, let's just make them ourselves". He's trying to remake the brand with a new design for a Commando. I hope it works, but the classics are just plain SUHWEEEET.
Vincent Rapide and pictures of Rollie Free's famous run at the Bonneville Salt Flats on his Vincent (note the pictures of Bert Hopwood's Indian near the top of this page). Rollie couldn't get over 150 on his bike, even with his radical riding position, so he stripped off all his leathers and rode with a swimsuit only. There's also a song dedicated to the 1952 Vincent Black Lightning, from Richard Thompson.
BSA thumbnail pictures (the BSA gold star is a special favorite of mine)
For my money, the most attractive "thumper" (big single-cylinder bike) ever produced is the Matchless G80.
Let's see, motorcycles, the Olympics, and siege engines. That leaves beer and firearms as topics left on the table (I promised Kathy prOn wouldn't be used as a topic).
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As the 37-year-old actor got off the Royal Marines speedboat which brought him along the Thames to his unveiling as Bond, he revealed the high-speed ride had terrified him.
The Cake Eater fill in blogger regrets the error (by which we mean the error of ever casting this sorry excuse for James Bond).
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Nice.February 26, 2006
I'd like to think that conservatives would at least be doing as much to destroy the fabric of America, through both action and inaction, than liberals are doing. Where's that famous "protestant/midwestern work ethic" we're always talking about? Shouldn't we be embarrassed that liberals are outworking us on this issue?
Why aren't we doing more to screw up the country, and why do I feel like signing this entry as "General 'Buck' Turgidson"?
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My wife generally puts up with my obsessions, but she sometimes draws the line. Fortunately for me, she usually draws the line at reasonable places, like rebuilding the engine of a 1963 Aeromacchi Sprint Model C on our coffee table (I can do it on the old beat-up coffee table in the basement, but not on our "Sunday Go-To-Meetin" one in the living room), or decorating our guest bedroom with reproduction posters of original Russian-language drawings showing the correct way to break down and maintain the 1895 Nagant revolver in 7.62mm (prints of ducks and deer are OK). She's even gotten me items from the local flea market as Christmas presents that warm my poor little trailer-trash heart: a 4-foot tall inflatible bottle of Shiner Bock and an old Schlitz beer sign with a lighted keg that throws disco-ball beams of light across the room. Don't tell her I said this, but I'm a pretty lucky guy. Last year for Christmas, she bought me a new shotgun after seeing me dither and blather on for a couple of years about wanting a new one to replace my battered but trusty Mossberg 500 but never actually doing anything until "I can find one on the sale to end all sales". After that, I told her that she's covered for Christmas, birthday, valentines, anniversary and even groundhog day presents for the next couple of years, but bless her heart she ignored me (like she is wont to do on other issues).
She's outdone herself this year. For my birthday last weekend, she did her shopping at THIS website. This gift makes that stupid freakin' pony I got back in third grade look like a pair of dress socks by comparison. more...
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I have a confession: I like Angelina Jolie.
Yes, she is sexy and attractive.
No, her politics are not my own; however, she is also damned smart and a woman of conviction.
I am not in the least interested in her bisexuality or even her relationship with that bit of fluff Pitt (however, she may be bringing out the mettle of conviction in him).
I applaud her work as a UN Ambassador (even though I think that institution is dated and ineffective) because she has been able to bring exposure to blighted areas of the world and make even my jaded heart care about the children afflicted. I further commend her willingness to adopt children in dire need of good care and loving homes, not to mention food on a regular basis.
In my most humble opinion, her efforts are a net positive, unlike a number of her celebrity colleagues: Sean Penn, Susan Sarandon, Tim Robbins, George Clooney, and Barbara Streisand.
Apparently, to this observer, Angelina and Bono are two celebrities who know how to get things done in D. C.
The formula is rather simple, in fact:
1) "ignore(s) the George Clooney, Michael Moore, and Babs strategy of trashing all things Republican"
2) "Instead of blasting the establishment like Barbra Streisand, sending antiwar E-mails like Martin Sheen, or just mouthing off like Ted Nugent, they're working inside the system to get what they want in attention and money"
3) "Avert partisanship and learn the issues"
4) "'You need to know when to keep your mouth shut.' A West Wing bigwig praises the duo for avoiding clichéd name-calling. 'It is the new civility, and it works.'"
So there it is, be a successful celebrity with a cause, do your homework, show that you are concerned and committed. Do not "just show up at an event and smile for the cameras."
Perhaps, there's a lesson in here for all of us.
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February 25, 2006
This is the view from the in-laws' backyard. Yeah. I know. It sucks to be me.
- Robbo will be pleased to hear that I started Master and Commander today after finishing the interminable Name of the Rose, which I was determined to finish even though that book is like foreplay with a premature ejaculator (and if you don't get what that means, I'm not telling you.) Anyway I'm not very far into M&C but I'm already having a hard time telling why dearest Robbo has a problem with Russell Crowe in the role of Capt. Jack Aubrey.
{...}The listener farther to the left was a man of between twenty and thirty whose big form overflowed his seat, leaving only a streak of gilt wood to be seen here and there. He was wearing his best uniform---the white lapelled blue coat, white waistcoat, breeches and stockings of a lieutenant in the Royal Navy, with the silver medal of the Nile in his buttonhole---and the deep white cuff of his gold-buttoned sleeve beat the time while his bright blue eyes, staring from what would hav been a pink and white face if it had not been so deeply tanned, gazed fixedly at the bow of the first violin.{...}
Ummm, what's the dealio here, Robbo?
- I got to experience Arizona viticulture today. We did a tour of wineries in this area and while two out of three sucked bullets, the third was truly something to write home about. Callaghan Vineyards. If you have room for storage, buy their wines. I really mean that. Their wine is nice to taste---and I did enjoy tasting a few---this is wine that will age BEAUTIFULLY. And I really mean that. A few years in glass will do wonders for this stuff---and it's pretty damn good to begin with.
I tried the 2004 Syrah, Zinfandel and Claire. This Syrah is truly marvelous: rich, full-bodied and spicy, it could give any number of Californians that I've tasted a run for their money. The Zin wasn't as tasty or as impressive as the Syrah---it was a bit on the fruity side---and was a bit weaker than I expected it to be, but it was still quite lovely. The Claire, however, was bloody spectacular. That is a wine that in ten years will be wine you open up to celebrate special occasions, like when babies are born or your children get engaged and you're having a special dinner. It's a wonderful and special wine.
I know what you're thinking: local winery action, oh joy. That last bit was undoubtedly accompanied by an eye roll, wasn't it? I'm sure it was. Because I know I've thought the same things, but really and truly, Callaghan has the potential to become a very important winery in the years to come. I was floored when I tasted their wines. I was expecting more MD 20/20 that I'd received at the previous two wineries, which shall go unnamed, but I couldn't have been more wrong.
Ok. That should do you for now, my devoted Cake Eater readers.
Oh, and my guest bloggers rock!
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February 24, 2006
Last year, Craig admitted he is struggling to overcome his biggest fear to play Bond - he's terrified of guns.
The star will have to handle weapons in the film but said he was left petrified after seeing a real life bullet wound.
He said at the time: "I hate handguns. They are used to shoot people and as long as they are around, people will shoot each other. I've seen a bullet wound and it was a mess."
Best not let him see this:
He might get the vapors and faint.
James Frickin' Bond, people. This is unbelievable.
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Mmmmm. Hey, it's Friday, and one cannot expect me to be serious or productive on a day like this. Now...gaze upon Mark Darcy lovingly. I command thee.
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Wee: “Aunt Kathy, I’ve organized all of your cookbooks.”
Kathy: “You did?!” They were already in alphabetical order…”
Wee: “Oh, I know, but that’s so boring, everyone organizes alphabetically.”
Kathy becoming a tad bit annoyed: “Boring, what do you mean 'boring'? I am not boring.”
With big liquid brown eyes staring at Aunt Kathy, Wee One said nothing.
Kathy, melting a bit: “Oh, that’s fine. Let’s have a look.”
Noting nothing in obvious disarray, Kathy asked: “How did you organize these, by height of book?”
Wee One: “Oh, no, that’s juvenile. I decided to arrange them chronologically based on latest copyright date. I thought about grouping them based on publisher and copyright, but I thought that might be too confusing, at least, for you.”
At that sound of that, The Husband glanced over at Kathy and made a silent mental wager whether the exchange would culminate in physical contact.
Taking the high road, Kathy continued: “Oh, well, that’s very interesting…”
Wee One: “By the way dear Aunt Kathy, I noticed one of your books, the oldest in your collection in fact, was in dire shape, the pages were loose and falling out. I repaired it as best I could with the elements you had available. Ordinarily, I would prefer to use clear archival tape for a project such as that; however, all I could find from your spouse’s tool box was black electrical tape.”
With that, the child pulled a well used and somewhat lumpy copy of “The White House Cookbook” from behind her back and presented it to her hostess.
As she numbly retrieved the copy from the child’s small hands, The Husband interjected: “Come over here, Wee One. Let me show you my rope collection. I bet you don’t know how to untie a Gallows Knot…”
To be continued.
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February 23, 2006
Suffice it to say, it has been one exceedingly long day. I won't bore you with the minute details, other than...in order:
- Today was a first for me: I was actually on a domestic flight that had a movie. Wow. I watched I Walk the Line and wasn't really all that impressed with Joaquin and Reese's emoting because I couldn't see them hardly at all with the glare on the screen.
- The In-N-Out was wonderful, thank you very much. It was made even better by the fact that we ate it outside. It was seventy degrees and sunny. YEAH!
- I mentioned that the in-laws now live in a suburb of Nogales. This is about two and a half hours south of Phoenix, where we flew into (with the encouragement of the in-laws), which meant a lengthy drive after flying a very long way. Desert is interesting to look at for, oh, about five minutes. Then it's "If you've seen one mountain dotted with brush and cactii, you've seen them all." The strip mining leftovers south of Tucson actually broke up the monotony of tumbleweeds, cactii and Joshua trees.
I feel the need to berate Arizonans for one thing, though: YOU PEOPLE ARE FILTHY BUGGERS!
I have NEVER EVER seen so much litter along the roadside in my life. It was absolutely disgusting. Every three feet there was paper, or styrofoam containers or whatever else people could throw out of their cars at high speed. I wondered why it seemed the desert by the side of the road was glittering, but it wasn't anything magical, it was the sun reflecting off broken glass. It was disgusting, and I was so NOT impressed.
I am now going to go and soak the airline woes away and then I'm going to sleep the sleep of the righteous.
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09:41 PM
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At least my mission wasn't clear before I read the official sayonara. I notice that I'm apparently assigned "laid back ponderings." That's quite a relief. Beats the poop out of poop detail.
Unfortunately, nothing especially ponderable comes to mind at the moment. Or rather nothing that goes along well with "laid back," because, let's face it, that's just a polite way of saying "lazy." Not that I'm arguing the point, mind you. I mean, especially as I struggle to find the energy to write about anything that characterization seems almost too perfect.
In lieu of pondering I'll point out the amazing parallels between Kathy and myself.
Kathy grew up in Omaha. I was born in Omaha.
Kathy has a blog. I have a blog.
Kathy drinks wine. I drink wine.
It's like we're practically the same person! Except for that male/female thing. Plus I think I weigh slightly more than her. But that's gotta be because I'm taller. And fatter.
Anyway, while Kathy is away I vow to remain on top of any breaking news regarding The Pussy Bond (TM). My guess for the next shocking development is that he'll ask for a little paper umbrella in his martini.
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09:27 PM
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Mmmmm....Emma Woodhouse.....Mmmmmmm.......
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03:30 PM
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This is way cool: Reuters is carrying a piece today about forensic studies done on the remains of gladiators found in tombs near Ephesus in Turkey which supports the notion that gladiatorial combats were carried out pursuant to a code of conduct.
Injuries to the front of each skull suggested that each opponent used just one type of weapon per bout of face-to-face contact, two Austrian researchers report in a paper to be published in Forensic Science International.Savage violence and mutilation, typical of battlefields 2,000 years ago, were out of order.
And the losers appear to have died quickly.
Despite the fact that most gladiators wore helmets, 10 of the remains showed the fighters had died of squarish hammer-like blows to the side of the head, possibly the work of a backstage executioner who finished off wounded losers after the fight.
The report confirms the picture given of battles in the arena by Roman artwork, which suggests gladiators were well matched and followed rules enforced by two referees.
I expect this had as much to do with the economics of such spectacles as anything else - training and maintaining a first-class gladiator was a pretty expensive proposition and it would have been in everyone's best interest not to run the risk of throwing away such a valuable asset in an out-of-control free-for-all. If I recall my classical civ correctly, the more lawless bloodbaths in the arena usually involved criminals, prisoners and (from the Roman point of view) other more expendable riff-raff.
Yips! to Scribal Terror.
(Cross-posted from Llama Central because I know Kathy is a fellow Latin geek.)
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Kathy and I became acquainted last year when she stumbled upon a series of dispatches I filed from the Big 12 basketball tournament in Kansas City. My drunken homage to Hunter S. Thompson made Kathy snicker, and she threw a shout out to a fellow Iowa State grad over at the Llama's pad. I consumed a beer for her at Kelly's, and the empty cup went on to appear in a series of traveling photos. I've done a few posts as a guest at Blonde Sagacity, but since mid-fall I've been in the grips of a bad case of blogging ennui, and my muse has been silenced. When Kathy asked me to help fill in during her vacation, I jumped at the chance to reinvigorate my schtick.
I've always struggled with finding my niche on blogs. Kathy's advice is to tackle topics that interest you, and don't worry about trying to be Stephen Hawking, Stephen Ambrose, or even Steven Tyler - just be yourself. OK, but be careful what you ask for. I'll try to relive my old high school class clown act for you, mainly because I can't compete with the other guests in obscure Royal Navy trivia (sooper sekret message to the llamas: Jack Aubrey? I've got one word for you, boyz - EXOCET!) and sexy hotness (whenever I have bedhead, it's never sexy. It's more of an "eraserhead meets Reverend Jim" visual).
Take the jump to the extended entry if you want to get my opinion on the winter olympics. more...
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February 22, 2006
At the crack of my ass dawn tomorrow morning, we shall board a plane for exotic and glamorous...Cincinatti.
Which is exciting, no?
Yeah, I know. Don't let your enthusiasm burst a button on your trousers or anything.
Have no fear, my devoted Cake Eater readers, that's not our final destination. We shall then catch a connection to warm and sunny Phoenix, Arizona, where we will stay for as long as it takes me to satisfy my In-N-Out jones. Then we shall get on the freeway and head south. WAY south. Past Tucson. To border country, where the in-laws just moved.
At that point the plan is that the husband and I are going to soak up as much sun and eighty-degree temperatures as we possibly can while we hang out with his family. If any satellites are downed from orbit whilst we're on vacation, it'll be my fault. Because I have some white, white legs going on currently. I apologize in advance for reflecting light back into space and damaging sensitive electronic equipment. Really, I don't know what I was thinking.
Anyway... I'm sure you, my devoted Cake Eater readers are wondering what's in store for you during my vacation. You see, I could leave you high and dry for five days, but I decided I wouldn't do that to you because you are, indeed, my devoted Cake Eater readers. I didn't want you all reverting to the Asian lesbian pr0n that you surfed before you found me. So, I recruited guest bloggers. Lots and lots of guest bloggers.
Aren't I thoughtful?
Yes, I know. You can thank me later when you read the dramatic stylings of Chrissy from JustDotChristina; the wicked humor of Agent Bedhead; the laid back ponderings of Bogus Doug; and, of course, the general wackiness of my dear pals Robbo and Steve, the Llamabutchers.
You, my devoted Cake Eater readers, also need to extend a warm welcome to a n00b who's making his HMTL debut: rabid commenter, Russ from Winterset, who will, in a few short weeks, be traveling to Dallas for the Big Twelve Tourney in his capacity as the Cake Eater Basketball Correspondent. Give him a warm welcome and a really hard time, because undoubtedly the power of the post will go to his head.
I will have the laptop with me, but I don't expect too much time for posting, as I will be making a concentrated effort to down satellites with my lack of pigmentation. I might pop in. I might not. You'll just have to wait and see what happens.
Have a good week, kids, and I'll see you next Thursday if not sooner.
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09:24 PM
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{...}The latest hitch on the set of "Casino Royale," the new 007 flick, reportedly occurred when the star revealed he couldn't drive the super-suave superspy's trademark Aston Martin. Craig, 37, found himself shaken, not stirred, when he was confronted with a manual gearshift instead of an automatic, British newspapers said today.{...}
I mean, honestly. Every single Bond film has an extended car chase sequence in it. Every single Bond film shows Bond driving. And every single Bond car has a manual transmission. Where, exactly, did Daniel Craig get the idea that Bond would suddenly be driving a automatic? Particularly since Aston Martin's are hand built and the Vanquish model, which was the last Bond car in Die Another Day, does not have an option for an automatic transmission?
Well, there's no denying it now: he's The Pussy Bond (TM). Any leeway I ws prepared to grant him because of Layer Cake is now gone. Ghandi. Poof. Disappeared into the ether.
{Hat tip: Chrissy}
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{...}Some of us are scratching our heads all right, but we're wondering why Mr. Graham and others believe Dubai Ports World has been insufficiently vetted for the task at hand. So far, none of the critics have provided any evidence that the Administration hasn't done its due diligence. The deal has been blessed by the Committee on Foreign Investment in the United States, a multiagency panel that includes representatives from the departments of Treasury, Defense and Homeland Security.Yes, some of the 9/11 hijackers were UAE citizens. But then the London subway bombings last year were perpetrated by citizens of Britain, home to the company (P&O) that currently manages the ports that Dubai Ports World would take over. Which tells us three things: First, this work is already being outsourced to "a foreign-based company"; second, discriminating against a Mideast company offers no security guarantees because attacks are sometimes homegrown; and third, Mr. Graham likes to talk first and ask questions later.
Besides, the notion that the Bush Administration is farming out port "security" to hostile Arab nations is alarmist nonsense. Dubai Ports World would be managing the commercial activities of these U.S. ports, not securing them. There's a difference. Port security falls to Coast Guard and U.S. Customs officials. "Nothing changes with respect to security under the contract," Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld said yesterday. "The Coast Guard is in charge of security, not the corporation."
{...}Critics also forget, or conveniently ignore, that the UAE government has been among the most helpful Arab countries in the war on terror. It was one of the first countries to join the U.S. container security initiative, which seeks to inspect cargo in foreign ports. The UAE has assisted in training security forces in Iraq, and at home it has worked hard to stem terrorist financing and WMD proliferation. UAE leaders are as much an al Qaeda target as Tony Blair.
{...}So the same Democrats who lecture that the war on terror is really a battle for "hearts and minds" now apparently favor bald discrimination against even friendly Arabs investing in the U.S.? Guantanamo must be closed because it's terrible PR, wiretapping al Qaeda in the U.S. is illegal, and the U.S. needs to withdraw from Iraq, but these Democratic superhawks simply will not allow Arabs to be put in charge of American longshoremen. That's all sure to play well on al Jazeera.{...}
{emphasis mine}
While I've quoted liberally from this, please go and read the whole thing anyway.
I tried to pull my thoughts together on this whole deal last night but I couldn't: I was too angry at all the stupidity and grandstanding involved to get everything down in a coherent fashion. I'm glad for that because the Wall Street Journal editorial board did a much better job than I ever could have.
This whole controversy is manufactured. And it's been manufactured by people who are looking after American commercial interests, and then it was picked up by Hillary Clinton's people for the purpose of proving she's a hawk in time for re-election to her senate seat. That's it. And everyone has fallen for it, including Congressional Republicans who have a few electoral hopes and dreams of their own for 2008 and who are now in open rebellion against their president again over an issue that they're bound to lose. Did you hear me or do I need to repeat that again? Bush will win this one. It'll be ugly, but he'll win. This is not another Harriet Miers scenario. How could it be? All the facts are on Bush's side. The worm is already starting to turn on this issue. And this worm has teeth: it will come back to bite anyone who argues against the sale because that's the stupid, uninformed position to take.
None of this, of course, really gets into the first class xenophobia and, in some instances, flat-out bigotry on display here. While most Middle Eastern men do wear dishdashas and ghoutras, and this makes them look all alike, really and truly, you should be able to tell the good guys from the bad guys by now.
Or at least you should be able to if you want to comment on this matter without looking like an idiot.
The UAE is a liberalized country in the Middle East that we want to be associated with. It is in their best interests to foil Al-Qaeda as much as we would. They buy arms from us. They have some of the most innovative examples of free trade going on. Their oil runs out in 2010 and their leaders have done their best to make sure there is an economy for their people when this unhappy event occurs. They did this to make sure radical Islam did not gain a foothold within their country. To lump the UAE in with Saudi Arabia---which has done precisely the opposite in terms of building an infrastructure, liberalizing trade, and encouraging education---or Syria, or any number of repressive Arab countries is the worst of mistakes not only because it's a political boo-boo, but because it threatens our national security down the road by taking chickenhawk potshots at an ally who's done nothing but help us in the War on Terror.
This editorial ends with the hope that Bush means it when he says he's going to veto any legislation that would prevent this sale: I hope he means it too, and if he doesn't follow through on it, I will, again, wonder why I voted for him.
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