Biden on spy swap: ‘I thought they’d take Rush Limbaugh’
Another missed opportunity for sure.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Headline of the Day
Another missed opportunity for sure.
Seven Reasons Why We Can’t Stop Making War
Excellent Tomgram.
Yes, kill all the brown scum foreigners you want to in my name but don't make me think about in in my little plastic bubble of denial.
It's not very far off either.
Our political leaders, the media, and the military interpret enduring war as a measure of our national fitness, our global power, our grit in the face of eternal danger, and our seriousness. A desire to de-escalate and withdraw, on the other hand, is invariably seen as cut-and-run appeasement and discounted as weakness. Withdrawal options are, in a pet phrase of Washington elites, invariably “off the table” when global policy is at stake, as was true during the Obama administration’s full-scale reconsideration of the Afghan war in the fall of 2009. Viewed in this light, the president’s ultimate decision to surge in Afghanistan was not only predictable, but the only course considered suitable for an American war leader. Rather than the tough choice, it was the path of least resistance.
Why do our elites so readily and regularly give war, not peace, a chance? What exactly are the wellsprings of Washington’s (and America’s) behavior when it comes to war and preparations for more of the same?
Consider these seven:
3. We’ve managed to isolate war’s physical and emotional costs, leaving them on the shoulders of a tiny minority of Americans. By eliminating the draft and relying ever more on for-profit private military contractors, we’ve made war a distant abstraction for most Americans, who can choose to consume it as spectacle or simply tune it out as so much background noise.
7. And don’t forget the seductive power of beyond-worse-case, doomsday scenarios, of the prophecies of pundits and so-called experts, who regularly tell us that, bad as our wars may be, doing anything to end them would be far worse. A typical scenario goes like this: If we withdraw from Afghanistan, the government of Hamid Karzai will collapse, the Taliban will surge to victory, al-Qaeda will pour into Afghan safe havens, and Pakistan will be further destabilized, its atomic bombs falling into the hands of terrorists out to destroy Peoria and Orlando.
Such fevered nightmares, impossible to disprove, may be conjured at any moment to scare critics into silence. They are a convenient bogeyman, leaving us cowering as we send our superman military out to save us (and the world as well), while preserving our right to visit the mall and travel to Disney World without being nuked
Yes, kill all the brown scum foreigners you want to in my name but don't make me think about in in my little plastic bubble of denial.
Capping the Wellsprings of War
Each one of these seven wellsprings feeding our enduring wars must be capped. So here are seven suggestions for the sort of “caps” -- hopefully more effective than BP’s flailing improvisations -- we need to install:
There you have it: my seven “caps” to contain our gushing support for permanent war. No one said it would be easy. Just ask BP how easy it is to cap one out-of-control gusher.
Nonetheless, if we as a society aren’t willing to work hard for actual change -- indeed, to demand it -- we’ll be on that military escalatory curve until we implode. And that way madness lies.
It's not very far off either.
Saturday Emmylou Blogging
This song, of course, does not apply to Repuglicants.
Emmylou Harris ~ All That You Have Is Your Soul
Thanks to JasonKT.
Big hearted hard guys ...
I know I bust on the Jarheads a lot (they deserve it, heh ...), but this is just excellent:
Great pics of the softer side of Marines you generally don't see in a war zone. Good on yas, brothers.
Kitties Rescued by US Marine Soldiers in Afghanistan
Great pics of the softer side of Marines you generally don't see in a war zone. Good on yas, brothers.
Thanks to Mr. Aravosis for the link.
Getting it ...
Mr. Philadelphia does:
Throughout my career as a mechanic, I've had white collar folks look down their nose at me - I call it the "grease monkey look" - not realizing that to master my profession and get to the level I am now, I've had as much schooling as a Master's Degree candidate in addition to the loss of blood, breakage of body parts, and 3rd degree burns over the years. Guys like me are alumni of the School of Hard Knocks and have invested as much as an MBA has in their careers. We have to work in freezing cold, scorching heat, rain, snow, and every other type of precipitation. And, in addition, we have to put up with these 'elitist' assholes' attitudes every time they drop their cars off for repair. Why shouldn't we get paid on the same scale they are?
One tremendous problem we have in this country is that too many who run in whitecollarish circles get absolutely enraged at the idea that some people working in blue collar or service industry jobs might actually be making a few bucks. It doesn't matter how hard those jobs are, that the jobs might actually require a high level of skills, or how many years people have been in those jobs, they're somehow seen as lesser jobs.
...
Throughout my career as a mechanic, I've had white collar folks look down their nose at me - I call it the "grease monkey look" - not realizing that to master my profession and get to the level I am now, I've had as much schooling as a Master's Degree candidate in addition to the loss of blood, breakage of body parts, and 3rd degree burns over the years. Guys like me are alumni of the School of Hard Knocks and have invested as much as an MBA has in their careers. We have to work in freezing cold, scorching heat, rain, snow, and every other type of precipitation. And, in addition, we have to put up with these 'elitist' assholes' attitudes every time they drop their cars off for repair. Why shouldn't we get paid on the same scale they are?
It's bad enough ...
Giving people the option of left, right, back, or forward and they're clueless. I don't like adding up and down to that list.
It's summer on Long Island and, beginning Friday afternoons, the Stupidometer is pegged when it comes to people driving (the exodus out to the East End/Hamptons by people who don't drive during the week). You gotta keep your eyes peeled constantly for stupid shit happening around you. Now you have to worry about looking up as well.
And, being cynical about human nature like I am, I know a lot of people won't bother maintaining them as well as they should. I wonder when we'll have to start ducking for cover when one of them 'stalls'.
Next year, those of you with a sport pilot license and $194,000 to burn will be able to buy an honest-to-Doc-Brown flying car. Sadly, the demo vehicle is not remotely as cool looking as a DeLorean. (Pesco says the production model is much slicker, and we'll feature an interview with the industrial designers behind the production vehicle in the coming weeks!)
...
It's summer on Long Island and, beginning Friday afternoons, the Stupidometer is pegged when it comes to people driving (the exodus out to the East End/Hamptons by people who don't drive during the week). You gotta keep your eyes peeled constantly for stupid shit happening around you. Now you have to worry about looking up as well.
And, being cynical about human nature like I am, I know a lot of people won't bother maintaining them as well as they should. I wonder when we'll have to start ducking for cover when one of them 'stalls'.
Thanks to Watertiger for the link.
Friday, July 9, 2010
"...a hundred thousand vuvuzelas, an instrument that gives cacophony a bad name."
Will Durst on the World Cup. Fair and balanced. Not.
The above is Mr. Durst's opinion, not mine. My opinion of just about everything including soccer is: whatever blows yer skirt up.
Now let me get this straight. The World Cup is the most exciting sporting event on the face of the planet, right? Okay, then. What's second place -- the New England Spinsters Knitting Circle Seniors Tour? Which would make Supermodels Filling In Crossword Puzzles With Leaky Ink Pens a close third. Let's not forget those scintillating Midnight Coastal Colombian Tarantula Crawl-Offs.
My God. It's so European. Like a Bergman Film. [...]
Grown men egregiously flopping is just one reason the sport will never catch on in the USA, no matter how many soccer moms drive minivans. Americans can't get it up for any sport that doesn't involve eighth of a ton, no-neck, brain-dead pieces of premium beef tearing each other apart like the last sack of powdered milk at a United Nations relief tent in Kandahar. And in soccer, that's the fans' job.
Part of it has to do with the lack of commercials. We don't have the attention span. The same reason why a Royal Family wouldn't work here. Of course, next year is the Womens' World Cup which men WILL tune in to just on the off chance that some competitor will pull a Brandi Chastain and rip off her shirt. Next time around the guys might want to try that. Or more head butting.
The above is Mr. Durst's opinion, not mine. My opinion of just about everything including soccer is: whatever blows yer skirt up.
CA Prop 19 poll
YubaNet
Looks like we'll have to vote on it.
Other ballot measures in the poll as well.
Voter sentiment on Prop. 19 is closely divided, with more voters now opposing it (48%) than in favor (44%). Prop. 19 would allow people 21 years or older to possess, cultivate or transport marijuana for personal use and permit local governments to regulate and tax its commercial production and sales.
The three-fourths majority of voters who had some awareness of the measure prior to being surveyed are narrowly favoring its passage – 48% to 44%. However, Prop. 19 is opposed nearly two-to-one among the 23% of voters who had no prior awareness of the initiative.
There are large partisan differences in voting preferences on Prop. 19. While Democrats are backing it 53% to 38%, a two-to-one majority of Republicans (63% to 31%) are opposed. Non-partisans are evenly divided 46% to 46%.
There is majority support for Prop. 19's passage (53% Yes vs. 38% No) among voters in the nine-county San Francisco Bay Area. Los Angeles County voters are about evenly divided (46% Yes vs. 47% No). However, in all other regions of the state sentiment is running against Prop. 19 by margins ranging from six to eighteen percentage points.
Men are split on the measure (48% Yes vs. 47% No), while women are on the No side 50% to 41%.
A small plurality of white non-Hispanics (48% to 43%) favors Prop. 19's passage. However, each of the racial/ethnic subgroups measured in the survey – Latinos, African-Americans and Asian-Americans – are opposed to Prop. 19 by double-digit margins.
Voters age 18 – 29 age are supporting the marijuana initiative 52% to 39%. However, the survey finds that there are significant preference differences between younger voters who are white non-Hispanic and ethnic voters. While younger white non-Hispanic voters favor the initiative 53% to 35, younger ethnic voters oppose it five to four (52% to 45%).
Voters between ages 30-64 are generally divided in their preferences. However, voters age 65 and older are opposing the initiative by a big margin (57% to 33%).
Looks like we'll have to vote on it.
Other ballot measures in the poll as well.
Ho-hum...
Gallbladder removed through mouth in new surgical technique
So what's new? Fixer's been taking wingnuts' heads out through their asses for years. Of course, their heads are right there anyway...
3 so far!
Follow-up to yesterday's post on job opportunities in the agricultural, er, field. From last night's Colbert Report:
Go be a farm worker! From the job app:
Man, that'd be livin' the dream! And you don't even have to say "Want fries with that?" for your low pay, no benefits, bad back, and cancer!
I'm goin' for a career in agricultural aviation. I wanta be the guy in the hazmat suit on a 100+° day who gets to stand at the edge of a field waving a flag at the crop duster plane to show him where to make his next pass and dump pesticide on me each time by. I love airplanes!
| The Colbert Report | Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c | |||
| Arturo Rodriguez | ||||
| ||||
Go be a farm worker! From the job app:
Job may include using hand tools such as knives, hoes, shovels, etc. Duties may include tilling the soil, transplanting, weeding, thinning, picking, cutting, sorting & packing of harvested produce. May set up & operate irrigation equip. Work is performed outside in all weather conditions (Summertime 90+ degree weather) & is physically demanding requiring workers to bend, stoop, lift & carry up to 50 lbs on a regular basis.
Man, that'd be livin' the dream! And you don't even have to say "Want fries with that?" for your low pay, no benefits, bad back, and cancer!
I'm goin' for a career in agricultural aviation. I wanta be the guy in the hazmat suit on a 100+° day who gets to stand at the edge of a field waving a flag at the crop duster plane to show him where to make his next pass and dump pesticide on me each time by. I love airplanes!
Yes, Georgie and BP, thanks a great steaming pile
Friday Morford:
I would dearly love to express gratitude to Georgie et al for testing the breaking strength of a hangman's rope.
A hideous gift indeed, worthy of regifting to Bush, BP, and the Repugs.
Let us now, just for a paragraph or three, recall the sad and soiled era of one George W. Bush, AKA the Dark Times, the Era of Lost Souls, when all felt calamitous and miserable and not a single day went by without some nefarious scandal, abuse, global humiliation, blunder, illegal war or Creationist kiddiebabble to molest your heart, scar your soul and humiliate your finer sensibilities.
Do you remember? I know, I'm very sorry to make you do it. But it just might save us all.
See, there are those who tentatively argue -- I've done so myself, more or less, in this very space -- that we actually owe Dubya a huge dose of (reluctant, teeth-gritted, soul-clenched) gratitude.
There are those who say that, had it not been for The Worst President of the Modern Era, his epic blunderstorm of war, environmental abuse and a deep suckling love for/from the deeply disturbed fundamentalist right, well, the potent groundswell for change and upheaval would not have occurred, the GOP might not have collapsed so violently under the weight of its own repellant misprision, and Obama might never have succeeded as well as he did.
So we come to the great BP spill of 2010, the most gruesomely epic man-made disaster of our age. How do we parse? Through what lens do we observe? Using the Dark Days as a model, I'm here to suggest the possibility that we look at BP, its horrible disaster, its slimy executives, its Republican apologists, its roots in pure evil -- and actually, by short extension, its direct ties to the Bush Administration itself -- and set our sour fatalism aside for a moment, and instead offer up a perverse sort of gratitude.
I would dearly love to express gratitude to Georgie et al for testing the breaking strength of a hangman's rope.
Maybe it's the wrong way to look at it. Of course, the BP spill is nowhere near as traumatic, nation-scarring and historically destructive as a decade of Bush. His reach was wide and deep, the damage decades in the unraveling and recovery, the innocent lives lost counted in the hundreds of thousands; Dubya was a whole-body cancer.
But it's still worth recalling. Because sometimes the gifts come in hideous packages. Sometimes the enlightenment, the higher consciousness only comes after you've been beaten over the head with the oily baseball bat of what the f-- is wrong with you. Thanks for the brutal, nightmarish beating, BP. We'll see if we regain consciousness.
A hideous gift indeed, worthy of regifting to Bush, BP, and the Repugs.
Quote of the Day
The first line of a post by Bill Boyarsky at Truthdig:
Most people who have a death wish eventually connect. I wish the Repugs speedy success.
Death wish isn’t too extreme a phrase to describe the Republicans’ recent conduct.
Most people who have a death wish eventually connect. I wish the Repugs speedy success.
And if you think ...
I was extreme in my rants about the car industry:
Go read this and then tell me if you think so.
I wouldn't take my car to a dealership service department unless it's for warranty or recall work. This shit is more the norm than the exception.
Take my advice, find a good local independent shop (ask your friends and neighbors) and stick with him, give him your business (stay away from the "oil change places") regularly, and tell your friends about him. Good, honest, independent mechanics can only turn wrenches if customers keep them in business.
Happy Friday!
Update:
Just an anecdotal story.
The Mrs. had to bring her Escape in for a recall (transmission cooler) about a month ago (Ford wouldn't give me the parts and let me replace it myself even though I'm an ASE certified Master Mechanic, Ford Certified Master Mechanic and a licensed New York State Motor Vehicle Inspector). She dropped it off one day in the afternoon and I picked her up at the dealership. The next day they called her and told her she needed a service (oil change, check fluids, lube) - I serviced the car the week before and they couldn't bother to look up at the service sticker on the windshield and figure out that the car had only gone 150 miles - tire rotation - I rotated the tires when I did the service - brake job - 20K miles and I checked those when I did the service the week before - and a coolant system flush - 20K miles for "permanent anti-freeze"? Also, it's a lease car that's going back in October. They gave her the "stoplight spiel"; "the brakes are 'yellow', the tires are 'red'", etc. Then she let them know who I was and what I did for a living.
Now, we love the dealership and the sales staff. When they have a deal, they'll call us, even if it's 6 months before the end of the lease (and they'll eat the last 6 months - they ate the last 3 months of my old Escape) and offer to take the old car back and give us a new one. We strike a good deal and they give me professional courtesy because I'm in the business and we live locally. Their service department, on the other hand, are slimy, no good crooks. It's always amazing to us how such a dichotomy (not that I have any love for car salesmen) can exist in one business. It sure wouldn't happen if I ran the show.
And just a note, this isn't about the mechanics. Some of the best mechanics I ever met worked at Ford Motorsport with me. This is about the service manager and that peculiar species of lowlife called the "service writer" who get paid to pad bills as thickly as possible and pray the customer doesn't kvetch too loudly.
...
Car Dealership Service Departments:
You, single-handedly, have done more to destroy the reputation of mechanics than any other cause. It's called "upsell" and you all do it so well. It's a dictum that no one leaves a dealership service department without buying something. Take your car in for warranty or recall work and see what happens. You get a laundry list of things wrong with your car, from the brakes to some kind of service, to a cooling system flush, to a tire rotation, that "you really should have done now before something bad happens". And they get you for a thousand bucks. And people wonder why everybody thinks most mechanics are crooks. Rotten fucking scumbags.
...
Go read this and then tell me if you think so.
...
So imagine my surprise when my fiance dropped it off and called me to say that they gave her an estimate of $450-$500. Same car. Same windshield. 24 hours apart. Now, I'm not quick to assume bad faith or nefarious motive, but I'm pretty damn sure some pig in the service department thinks it's ok to try to rip off women.
...
I wouldn't take my car to a dealership service department unless it's for warranty or recall work. This shit is more the norm than the exception.
Take my advice, find a good local independent shop (ask your friends and neighbors) and stick with him, give him your business (stay away from the "oil change places") regularly, and tell your friends about him. Good, honest, independent mechanics can only turn wrenches if customers keep them in business.
Happy Friday!
Update:
Just an anecdotal story.
The Mrs. had to bring her Escape in for a recall (transmission cooler) about a month ago (Ford wouldn't give me the parts and let me replace it myself even though I'm an ASE certified Master Mechanic, Ford Certified Master Mechanic and a licensed New York State Motor Vehicle Inspector). She dropped it off one day in the afternoon and I picked her up at the dealership. The next day they called her and told her she needed a service (oil change, check fluids, lube) - I serviced the car the week before and they couldn't bother to look up at the service sticker on the windshield and figure out that the car had only gone 150 miles - tire rotation - I rotated the tires when I did the service - brake job - 20K miles and I checked those when I did the service the week before - and a coolant system flush - 20K miles for "permanent anti-freeze"? Also, it's a lease car that's going back in October. They gave her the "stoplight spiel"; "the brakes are 'yellow', the tires are 'red'", etc. Then she let them know who I was and what I did for a living.
Now, we love the dealership and the sales staff. When they have a deal, they'll call us, even if it's 6 months before the end of the lease (and they'll eat the last 6 months - they ate the last 3 months of my old Escape) and offer to take the old car back and give us a new one. We strike a good deal and they give me professional courtesy because I'm in the business and we live locally. Their service department, on the other hand, are slimy, no good crooks. It's always amazing to us how such a dichotomy (not that I have any love for car salesmen) can exist in one business. It sure wouldn't happen if I ran the show.
And just a note, this isn't about the mechanics. Some of the best mechanics I ever met worked at Ford Motorsport with me. This is about the service manager and that peculiar species of lowlife called the "service writer" who get paid to pad bills as thickly as possible and pray the customer doesn't kvetch too loudly.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Ya just raised my taxes ...
On a pack of smokes, why not legalize my other fucking habit and tax me for that too? I'll gladly pay a sales tax on my reefer (and not have to put my freedom on the line every time I go pick up a bag) if it'll help get us off the balls of our ass.
Yawn ...
Me and Ol' Fez:
Dark Age, mark my words ...
...
I, of course, won't be watching (I'll be sleeping), I'm too good of a person (actually, no, I'd just be sleeping) to put up with this kind of bullshit (but, other varieties I'll entertain obviously, when I'm not sleeping).
...
Dark Age, mark my words ...
Eating the messenger, part deux
Following up on Fixer's post, he ain't the only one. Heh.
HuffPo, links at site.
To update a comment I made on Fixer's post, "Will you be having un periquito on your tacos de pulpa, Señor?"
A little silly shit like this is good for the soul.
HuffPo, links at site.
The psychic octopus known for his amazingly accurate World Cup predictions has received death threats, the Telegraph reports. Paul, the oracle octopus whose prescient premonitions perfectly predicted the outcome of all six German World Cup games, first generated anger from Argentinian fans who believe his percipient pick doomed Argentina in the quarterfinals.
Paul's keeper in Oberhausen, Germany said "there are always people who want to eat our octopus but he is not shy and we are here to protect him as well. He will survive."
Paul's powers reached a new level on Wednesday, when his bold pick against his current home country proved correct, bringing his World Cup record to a jaw-dropping six for six.
To update a comment I made on Fixer's post, "Will you be having un periquito on your tacos de pulpa, Señor?"
A little silly shit like this is good for the soul.
"If you fuck with me, I'll kill you all."
Slate
Holy shit...
It's heartwarming to know that the Corps fucks over Generals just like they do PFCs and Lance Corporals. On the other hand, I guess the way you get to be a four-star General is to like getting fucked over until you can be the one that gets to do it. There's always someone higher though...
I like this guy.
Semper Fi, General Mattis. Best of luck.
Gen. James Mattis has been joking recently that after 41 years in the Marines, he was going to return to his home of Walla Walla, Wash., to become an onion farmer. He'll have to wait. The four-star general is going to Tampa, Fla., to take over for Army Gen. David Petraeus as commander of the U.S. Central Command, overseeing combat in both Afghanistan and Iraq. The news will be announced by Defense Secretary Robert Gates at a press conference later today.
[...] He commanded Marines as a brigadier general in Afghanistan in 2001. In 2003, he was the Marine ground commander in Iraq, leading the 20,000 troops of the 1st Marine Division for 500 miles over 17 days, the longest sustained march in Marine Corps history. [...]
Holy shit...
It was a disappointment for Mattis. With few spots for someone of his rank, his only real option was to retire. Still, it was inconceivable to those around the energetic 59-year-old that after a lifetime in the service he would be leaving. Then Gen. Stanley McChrystal's career abruptly ended, and Mattis' fortunes were reversed.
It's heartwarming to know that the Corps fucks over Generals just like they do PFCs and Lance Corporals. On the other hand, I guess the way you get to be a four-star General is to like getting fucked over until you can be the one that gets to do it. There's always someone higher though...
[...] In the spring of 2003, in the first of his meetings with recently defeated Iraqi military leaders he famously said: "I come in peace. I didn't bring artillery. But I'm pleading with you, with tears in my eyes: If you fuck with me, I'll kill you all." [...]
I like this guy.
Semper Fi, General Mattis. Best of luck.
Shut up and pick faster, you lazy white good-for-nothing
EssEffChron
Heh. I have watched my produce getting harvested from the comfort of my air-conditioned pickup in the Salinas and Santa Maria Valleys, and they are very mild in climate compared to the hothothot San Joaquin and Sacramento Valleys.
Somebody's got to pick the crops. There's a lotta money in produce. If you wanta see these morons who want all the Meskins rounded up and sent home really snivel, hand 'em a celery knife and have 'em spend a day bent over with their noses in the pesticide in the lovely Mediterranean climate in Guadalupe.
They might last an hour. It'd be good for a laugh.
If you wanta kill the same snivelling bastards, have 'em pick onions in Mettler in August. They'd drop like flies from the heat.
The truth of the matter is the Anglos'd get fired after ten minutes and the growers'd be clamoring to get their hard-working Meskins back.
Lost your job in Silicon Valley?
...
Tonight, United Farm Workers of America president Arturo Rodriguez will join the deadpan host of "The Colbert Report" to talk about the UFW's "Take Our Jobs" campaign, which encourages American citizens and legal residents to take jobs in the agriculture sector.
According to the UFW, most agriculture laborers are undocumented workers. But if you — a bona fide U.S. citizen — want to relocate to California's Central Valley or Texas' onion fields, they're all for it.
They're assuming that you don't. Rodriguez will be trying to talk up a UFW-backed bill in Congress that would give currently illegal agriculture laborers the opportunity to earn legal residency by continuing to work in agriculture. The proposal has bipartisan support in both chambers.
Heh. I have watched my produce getting harvested from the comfort of my air-conditioned pickup in the Salinas and Santa Maria Valleys, and they are very mild in climate compared to the hothothot San Joaquin and Sacramento Valleys.
Somebody's got to pick the crops. There's a lotta money in produce. If you wanta see these morons who want all the Meskins rounded up and sent home really snivel, hand 'em a celery knife and have 'em spend a day bent over with their noses in the pesticide in the lovely Mediterranean climate in Guadalupe.
They might last an hour. It'd be good for a laugh.
If you wanta kill the same snivelling bastards, have 'em pick onions in Mettler in August. They'd drop like flies from the heat.
The truth of the matter is the Anglos'd get fired after ten minutes and the growers'd be clamoring to get their hard-working Meskins back.
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