Weekend's Here

A little cold front's here so try to keep your shirt on.

Otherwise, trick or treat safely and take in some outstanding football on tap. Boolah, boolah.

Common Man's Drink

For the record, not all of us here at WAPR have aged like fine wine. We can't order off a french menu, we don't know the difference between a Malbec and Mad Dog (is there a difference?), we think of golf as an excuse to spend 4 hours or so talking about things we can't discuss in front of our better halves: chicks, the beer girl, and things we've done that we're ashamed of, and - of course - we drink beer. For the record, my brew of choice is usually a stout (mainly Guinness), and I found the following to be quite informative: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/28/dining/reviews/28wine.html

To a word I agreed with the author on stouts in general, from the types of stouts preferred to the types avoided. I have only enjoyed one of the stouts that was tasted/rated (Bear Republic), and look forward to trying the rest. If Mr. Bulba doesn't mind a little slumming, he's welcome to join me.

Gutfeld on Hate Crimes

Haven't linked to Gutfeld in a while and that's a shame. He's a hilarious little shit: http://dailygut.com/. Catch his "Red Eye" show sometime. Pretty damn funny.

Red Wine and Fish Problem Explained

No one ever really knew why red wine tasted bad with fish or vice versa--some thought it was due to tannins. Now, we know: http://www.economist.com/sciencetechnology/displaystory.cfm?story_id=14743767. I had a couple of glasses of a malbec with octopus last weekend and it went well. Maybe that's an exception or malbec doesn't have much iron or maybe octopus is just too damn disgusting to matter. Anyway, it all went down well. On another wine note, I was in a golf cart yesterday with a guy talking about the wonderful wine in Italy, apparently free of sulfides or something or the other and its rather inexpensive availability everywhere. So, with all that in mind, it will be a wine night tonight and should be a good one for it--cool and perfect for sitting outside by a fire and talking about how awful the neighbors are.

Bobby Fischer: Loon

Of course, you already knew that but you'll nevertheless enjoy this little blurb: http://www.csicop.org/si/show/bobby_fischer_genius_and_idiot/. The article gives some examples of how genius types can also be functional idiots. A case in point is a couple who are my next door neighbors. He is literally a rocket scientist. She was some type of humanities professor, both from the East Coast and both strongly Jewish and strongly politically liberal. Together, they have not a single social or real life skill between them. Their garage is piled floor to ceiling with faded books and journals. They keep their garbage can prominently displayed on their front porch. Neither could be described as anywhere near physically attractive yet she will walk outside for the newspaper wearing relatively little and what is exposed can only be described as hideous and retch inducing. Both are incapable of participating in a conversation that could be considered as normal. In short, it would be best for all if they could be locked away in a lab somewhere, receiving food pellets through a door slot. Okay, I'm being a cruel ass, but it would be nice if they would sell the house to a nice young couple with a cute wife who liked to tackle landscaping projects wearing something light and something small and eager to seek advice from the knowledgeable older neighbor next door, especially when her husband is away playing golf. One can dream. One must also recall the lesson of a dog chasing a car. Sigh.

Christiane Amanpour: Water Carrier

Amanpour says we have to buck up and support the Afghan war effort because we're trying to play catch up there from the Bush years of misspent attention in Iraq: http://www.cnn.com/2009/OPINION/10/29/amanpour.afghanistan.pakistan/index.html. Hilarious in that Amanpour was there to criticize every step Bush made including U.S. efforts in Afghanistan. Now that the right guy is in office and says we should be fighting the bad guys in Afghanistan, Christiane is all for it and takes this opportunity to lecture her fellow travellers in the media on their proper role in this phase of the war. It's all so laughable.

Hump Day

Go for a nice drive after work.

Rollins Weighs in On the Afghan War

A follow up to the piece posted yesterday about former Marine captain, Hoh and his reservations about continuing the war in Afghanistan, by Ed Rollins: http://www.cnn.com/2009/OPINION/10/28/rollins.war.resignations/index.html.

Coke and Sea Monkeys

Here's some stuff you need to know about: http://www.cracked.com/article/147_7-secrets-only-two-living-people-know-for-some-reason/.

I used to pore over the ads in comic books when I was a kid but I don't recall ever ordering anything. "Waste of money" was a popular expression in my house and sending off for sea monkeys had pretty much of a zero chance of happening even if it involved money that was designated as my own. I did save "green stamps" for a while though and finally amassed enough to purchase a wooden tennis racket with them. That was an interesting choice since there were no tennis courts anywhere near where we lived, so the racket was employed to see how far we could hit a tennis ball into the air and over houses and other various inventions, some involving reptiles and amphibians.

On Ayn Rand

I'm not a big Ayn Rand fan one way or the other. Here, the NYT talks about Rand, who would have surely scared the living shit out of anyone who has ever worked there: http://nymag.com/arts/books/features/60120/. I'd like to see Ayn come back to life and have a sit down with the editorial staff at the Times. She'd be the only one to walk out of the room with their testicles still intact.

More War Stuff

Former Marine and current foreign service diplomat in Afghanistan says it's futile over there: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/10/26/AR2009102603394.html?hpid=topnews&sid=ST2009102603447. I thought the interview was interesting in that former Captain Hoh doesn't appear to be one of those vets who turned on his service--he remarked that he fully supports the good guys killing the bad guys. His problem with the whole enterprise is that he thinks we're stirring up hornet nests wherever we tread at to an uncertain end.

Also, last night read an update on the ongoing scholarship of Henry V's campaign in France, climaxing at his victory at Agincourt http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/25/world/europe/25agincourt.html?ref=europe&pagewanted=all. It seems some scholars are revising estimates of British troop numbers upwards, from the accepted six or ten to one advantage thought held by the French at the time of the battle to more like four to one or so. I don't know--I'm wading through Juliet Barker's treatment of the battle right now and I'm inclined to go with her estimate of six to one, as Barker is thought by pretty much everyone to be the world's authority on the battle. Funny how an English mother of two can tell you all about the English longbow and the rate of fire of a competent archer (15 to 20 accurate shots per minute to an effective range of two hundred yards) but there you have it. Makes me wonder what a Napoleonic battle would have been like had archers marched instead of infantrymen armed with smooth bore muskets, accurate to only about 50 yards with a good infantryman getting off a shot or maybe two a minute.

Okay, there's your assignment--read these over your next session in restroom stall #2--you know, the one where you can assume a wider stance. After recess, we'll discuss flatulence and naked women.

Colorado Report

Odds and ends from a just completed visit to Fort Collins:

1. Construction on I25 north of Denver was completed and it's a 75mph limit all the way into Wyoming. People there tend to do a pretty good job of observing the primal holiness of the passing lane, unlike I35 in Texas where it's amateur hour 24/7.

2. Was invited up by daughter #1 to see her room at the Kappa house (I was loitering in the lobby at the time). Though the "Man on the floor!" announcement was made, two young Kappas failed to heed the message and dear old dad saw more of Kappa than he had expected. Nice girls there.

3. When you visit your kid at college, you're a big hit with your daughter's friends, especially when word spreads that old dad is buying dinner. Also, went to no fewer than six stores on a buying frenzy for "must have" items. For whatever reason, I don't recall needing skis when I was in college.

4. Like the University of Texas, CSU is a land grant university. Unlike UT, however, there was apparently no plan ever contemplated for architectural continuity as the university grew. It's a hodge podge of different styles and a fair amount of them are not pleasing to the eye. Not dull, though.

5. Among other things, college visits seem to degenerate into a considerable amount of binge eating and laying on my ass at the hotel watching HBO, which I don't get at home. Judging by the content of their programming this weekend, HBO seems to be focused on various social justice causes, among them, the gay rights movement. Saw, "Milk" which garnered world class ass wipe Sean Penn an Oscar. It's an okay movie, I guess, and Penn is certainly a fine actor but I'm still trying to figure out what made the movie so compelling. It really didn't move well and quickly became tiresome and a little predictable. In that same vein, caught a documentary that HBO did centering around Washington politics and gay politicians and staff. Essentially, Washington runs on gay staff members who, without wives and kids to go home to, can work crazy hours in support of their congressman. Also, discussed several politicos who have been outed along with some surprises (at least to me) of a few, including Florida Gov. Crist who still denies that he plays for the other team (he had a big show wedding recently). Finally, a BBC documentary on kids who survived that 2004 massacre at a Russian school at the hands of Chechen terrorists. A well done piece of work. Conclusion: Muslim terrorists are scum, kids are resilient, but also there's a whole new batch of Russian kids who've dedicated their lives to growing up and killing Chechens.

6. In 200 words or less explain Texas A&M beating Texas Tech on Saturday. No, let's just move on.

7. Saw Adrian Peterson of the Vikings stand up a safety yesterday, knock him backwards on his ass, and then run right over him for another 20 or so yards on his run. Peterson is a force of nature. I saw him once at Floyd Casey Stadium when he was with Oklahoma and he literally looked like a man among boys out there on the field. Almost the same in the pros.

8. I'm a big baseball fan. But, it's late October and it's football season. Why is the World Series just now starting? I don't care and there's about a billion fans just like me. Our country may savor its relationship with baseball, but its religion is football unless you're part of the give peace a chance crowd who doesn't like the violence of the gridiron. You'd think the brains running both major league baseball and the player's union would pick up on that. No, they haven't. I channel surfed a few weeks ago on a Wednesday and came across a divisional playoff game on TBS at 8:30 or 9pm or so. That should tell you two things: when the playoffs in your sport are on TBS and at a screwy hour, you've got a problem.

9. Watched "Gladiator" for a while last night. Next time you watch it, listen for the responsorial chant by the barbarians prior to battle with Maximus' legion in Germania. Then, go watch "Zulu" and listen to the same prior to the Zulu assault on the 21st Foot at Rorke's Drift. Let me know what you hear.

Weekend's Here

Shellback is off to Baton Rouge to cheer on the mighty Bengal Tigers, the Bulbas are headed to Colorado to maybe take in the always exciting CSU/SDSU game (always a barnburner), and Nimdok will be keeping the home fires lit and basking in the glory of some actual fall weather. So, if you don't see anything new here this weekend, don't lose your shirt over it.

Bourbon Facts

Bet you didn't know this stuff: http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,568553,00.html.

I thought bourbon had to be made in Kentucky until I read this. Also, interesting to read why Jack Black ain't a bourbon. It's important to know this stuff, so read up and down the hatch.

Like/Don't Like for Thursday

Like:

"The Border" with Jack Nicholson, Warren Oates, Harvey Keitel, etc. Also great soundtrack by Ry Cooder. One of my favorite all time songs is Cooder's "The Borderline" performed by Freddy Fender. No one has ever heard of it but they should. If someone covered it today, it would go straight to the top of the charts.

Don't like:

Senator Harry Fucking Reid. What a miserable scold and outright cocksucker. The "enrage" button in my mind kicks on at the first glance of the little shit.

Like:

The rare weekend morning where I can sleep in a little, have breakfast, and spend an hour or so with a pot of strong coffee along with the local rag and the WSJ. At some point in this process, a large and resounding dump will be mixed in. Afterward, I'm ready to speak and have an all and all sound outlook on life.

Don't like:

Unnecessary complications in technology in the name of improvement. A simple circular dial on the radio in my vehicle would beat the hell out of the "advance" button I have to constantly hit in order to change or find a station. In that same vein, I have an iPhone with the modern, cocksucking, "Generation WTF touch" movement employed to do anything. Why not just a goddamn dial with some tactile clicks? Then I would be dangerous. As it is now, I just cuss a lot when using the thing.

Like:

The occasional golf shot that does what it's supposed to do.

Dislike:

The inevitable local news report centering on what to do or not do when it's real hot outside or real cold. Yeah, I guess it's probably a good idea to drink some water when it's real hot. Thanks for telling me that. We've never had hot weather in Texas until you told me, Miss Reporterette.

New Barbies

You may not know it, but now there's a black Barbie: http://www.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/10/21/black.barbies.irpt/index.html?iref=werecommend. Some hand wringing going on and then there's the always eternal cry from some that Barbie gives girls an unrealistic body image problem. I think that's reaching but what the hell do I know. Fortunately, I'm out of the Barbie business, but there was a time when our house had Barbies strewn all over the place. If you have daughters, you'll spend more than a few hours dressing Barbie--for some reason, the girls always remove Barbie's clothes and you have naked Barbies lying around everywhere, sometimes on top of one another in some hot, girl on girl action. Dressing them is no easy trick; I could never figure out how to get a lot of stuff back on to Barbie. Sometimes, I'd get her blouse on her bottom or her skirt over her top section and it was always somewhat confusing to figure it all out. Also, you'd become distracted with Barbie's obvious physical features and how they apply to the real life missus down the hall and so forth before snapping out of your man-daze and getting your head back into the game. Hard to concentrate sometimes.

Hump Day

Thought this might come in handy on a rainy day. Looks like she's relatively dry.

Michael Walzer

Interesting interview with Michael Walzer, liberal writer on ethics: http://www.incharacter.org/article.php?article=163. See his answer to the "ticking time bomb" question. Though I haven't read any of his books, I probably differ with him on his view of how America should fight a ruthless enemy who doesn't share its same values. He points out Nazi Germany as a country with vile attributes that the Unites States fought largely in a manner that Walzer associates with the best ideals of this country. Maybe. He conveniently didn't point out the combat in the Pacific Theater. Over there, all of that Saturday Evening Post shit went out the window in island encounters with the Japanese. Talk to any veteran of that combat and it won't be about sharing tea and biscuits with vanquished enemy prisoners.

Holy Things

Nice little piece on religious relics, and both the current and historic place that they have held in matters of faith, particularly in the Catholic church.http://www.slate.com/id/2232883 Good reading.

The hottest time for the whole relic thing was, of course, during the Crusades. Lots of pieces of the supposed "True Cross," lots of various bones of saints and apostles, and other pieces of this and that that were all venerated like it was going out of style. Of course, the True Cross, itself, was the biggest deal--supposedly the Crusaders couldn't be defeated when they were carrying it into battle and that held true for quite a while. That all ended when they decided to take it out for a spin on their ill fated offensive that ended disastrously at their defeat at the Horns of Hattin. Saladin kicked some Crusader ass that day and took the True Cross for his own fun which included dragging it through Jerusalem after the subsequent siege and victory that ended the period of the Second Crusade. Richard the Lionheart wanted it badly when he mounted the Third Crusade and Saladin shrewdly bargained with him for it, but the Crusaders never got it back. I guess it's somewhere holding up an arch at a present day McDonald's in Amman or Damascus. My favorite relic story is from the Siege of Antioch during the First Crusade where the Crusaders surrounded and began a siege of the city, took it, and then were besieged themselves and gradually starved by a larger Saracen army. Things were looking down: the Crusaders were eating their horses to survive, no one could find a decent croissant, and the ranks were about to throw in the towel. One day, a soldier named, Peter Bartholemew claimed that if they were to dig directly under the floor before the altar in Antioch's largest church, they would find the lance that pierced Jesus' side at the crucifixion. By this time, the guys running the show were all out of ideas and said, "what the f___, let's give it a shot" (or words to that effect) and so they started digging and lo and behold, somebody actually unearthed a spear right were Peter said it would be. The wise old heads knew it was simply a random spear point from who knew where, but they knew how to play a tune when it was right before them, so the story rapidly went out among the troops that they were now carrying the spear that touched Christ. The boys became completely ape shit crazy to attack, and essentially poured out of the fortress and surprised and terrified the Muslim besiegers with their new found religious fury and carried the day. That kind of stuff sometimes happens in warfare, not unlike college football when Vanderbilt will somehow get filled with piss and vinegar and knock off LSU or somebody big. Anyway, Peter was obviously a loon and later became a pain in the ass to all around him, proclaiming visions of this and that and one day they stuck a sword in him to shut him up. Lesson there, too. You can get away with something like this once in while but be careful about showing your ass too much afterward. Otherwise, LSU will put up eighty on you when you meet them in Baton Rouge next season. And, that's just in the first half.

Bunny Fuel

No, nothing about playmates. Instead, they're shooting feral rabbits in Stockholm and turning them into fuel: http://www.spiegel.de/international/zeitgeist/0,1518,654916,00.html. Sensible, correct for the environment and natural fauna, and an obvious solution to a man made problem. But, of course, not politically correct as it runs counter to the overriding mantra that it's wrong to kill, KILL defenseless animals. We have the same kind of shit in the U.S. when it comes to deer, especially in urban areas like Austin. The obvious, OBVIOUS solution is for professional sharpshooters to thin the herd, harvesting the venison for the food bank or other charities. No, can't do that. After all, Bambi was a deer and his mother was killed by a hideous hunter man and why can't we all just live in peace and coexist and the Russians love their children, too and oil companies are greedy and war is not nice for children and other living things, etc. etc. Goddamn it, it gets frustrating living at the beck and call of a politically idiotic majority that doesn't have the collective common sense to know their ass from a hole in the ground. So, we watch stunted herds, constantly living on the edge of starvation, pouring out new Bambis by the score while feeding not only on expensive landscaping but also eliminating emerging hardwoods, and turning undeveloped "wild" areas into deserts of a sort. Deserts that reflect the addled thinking of a generation of tree huggers and their admirers.

The general hunting season opens on November 7th in Texas. Lock and load. Mother Nature approves of this message.

Texas/OU Report

Here's the facts:

Left for Dallas on Friday morning, arriving at the state fair around 2pm. For those of you who don't know it, "Fair Park" in Dallas is located in a somewhat economically disadvantaged area. In short, you can easily get your white ass killed there. We payed seven bucks to park at an ancient black lady's house, right next to a run down structure that was right out of central casting's idea of a crack house. If it wasn't, I'd be shocked. Nice lady who also ran some pretty good smack at an idiot question posed by one of our party. Hope she made a lot of money. Payed fifteen bucks for the privilege of entering the Texas State Fair and seeing some of the ugliest people around waddling about the place while participating in high caloric food intake. The usual carny games, rides, automobile displays, livestock chewing their cud, displays on how cotton and beef are making America safe from godless communist bastards--you know, the typical state fair/rodeo stuff. Hideously overpriced beer (didn't stop me from downing five or six of them) and middling musical acts here and there. Posed for some pics in front of the Cotton Bowl, itself and in front of both the UT and OU equipment trailers which indicate how many national championships in a sort of an 18 wheeler pissing contest (for the record, OU has more).

Afterward, meandered over to Nimdok's abode who graciously ran Mrs. Nimdok out of the house and into a hotel in order for him to play with his friends and/or for her to escape leering, groping, and horrific body odors of his assembled "friends." I think it largely worked. Anyway, an actually intelligent adult decision was made (one of few) and we engaged a taxi for transport to the front, which for this battle was the "Uptown" section in and around McKinney Avenue. Wise choice. Some good chow at a pub that I don't recall and then a nice half mile or so walk to our destination, the always outstanding, Idle Rich bar (weather was splendid Friday night and all through the weekend). Walk over was enhanced by an encounter and subsequent attempt to engage one of our party for services by a pretty good looking pro. It would have made a good story and I was pulling for him to do it, but he passed--it's amazing how you never stop wanting your friends to get into trouble. Little changes but I digress. We made it to the IR and secured a table out on the patio overlooking the sidewalk about four or five feet below. Wise, wise choice. What followed was about five hours of viewing of why Texas (and to be fair, Oklahoma) have the most beautiful women on this planet. Incredible. A simply glorious parade down the sidewalk, out of cabs, and into the IR. Also outstanding were the many wonderful and very pretty bartenders that love Nimdok and worship him as if he were a god. Well, I kind of made that last part up, but they do really like him. Also present were several of Nimdok's regular Wednesday night crew. Together, we were all about twenty five years older than anyone else, but we more than held our own and I didn't hear even one AARP reference (I was admittedly concentrating on visual aspects of the place and may have missed something) We received a few free drinks, bought some for a few of the lovely young ladies who I'm reasonably sure thought we reminded them of their dads, and had a smaller than deserved tab. And, enough photos courtesy of Nimdok's goddamn little camera to put us all in divorce court and consigned to run bait stands in Port Lavaca. Bastard.

Saturday morning was cruel--I wasn't sure that I could make it to the shower or that the water wouldn't somehow kill me but somehow managed. We motored it over to John's Cafe which serves a marvelous breakfast without fail--damn I wish he would franchise it, but it probably wouldn't be the same. His "breakfast special" beats anything you'll get in the Russian Tea Room. Fact. Another thing good about John's is that you leave satisfied and well oiled for a manly bowel movement. Unfortunately, mine came in a port-o-can on the state fair grounds, but it nevertheless went well. Prior to that, we paid the princely sum of thirty bucks to a guy on dope and parked in what has to be a chop shop or a possible site for the next "Saw" movie. I was sure that we'd by strung up by chains and drawn and quartered upon our return for the car, but it didn't happen--see, what does worrying get you? Anyway, made it to the game in the ancient Cotton Bowl, where you'll get crappy beverage service and like it. If you haven't been to the Texas/OU game, you should do it. Two great and historic programs, with great fans (also, a lot of assholes), traditions, and colors dividing the stadium exactly in half. Lots of hate, lots of "OU sucks!" or "Texas sucks!" or worse. The game was frustrating to watch--penalties, errors, injuries, ineffective offenses in spades but still great to take in. I'd do it again.

I'm leaving some stuff out. It's for the best.

Red River Shootout

The PC types now call it the "Red River Rivalry" but I say they can go piss up a rope. Going up for the big game, along with a former UT player and a committed OU type (can't figure out why) to meet up with the brave and noble, Nimdok of this here blog thingy. Should be a good time and a full report will come out next week. I last attended the UT/OU game in '05 which was the season where Texas took all the marbles with the national championship in Pasadena. It was a beautiful day with Texas pistol whipping Rhett Bomar and the Sooners like a red headed stepchild and me drinking about seven beers prior to breakfast and eating roughly the same amount of corn dogs once we hit the state fair grounds--I have an interesting stomach. Forecast for tomorrow calls for splendid weather for football--you know, the kind you're supposed to have unlike the hot as shit stuff we have down here. Hook 'em and Boomer Sooner and all that. Let the hate begin.

What is Heidi Holding?

Can't figure this out. I'm thinking she may be involved in special ops or something. Let me know if you have the answer.

COIN Lessons (Counterinsurgency)

Saw this on "The Corner" this morning. Saving to read later, looks good:

http://smallwarsjournal.com/blog/journal/docs-temp/306-noonan.pdf


An Interview with Peter Godwin by John Noonan

Full article: An Interview with Peter Godwin

Sometimes the most effective COIN lessons are found in the strangest of places. Some time ago, while researching Zimbabwe’s staggering collapse under the Robert Mugabe regime, I stumbled upon When a Crocodile Eats the Sun – a deeply moving memoir of Zimbabwe’s corrosive rot, told by native Zimbabwean reporter, Mr. Peter Godwin. Godwin spun his tale with an enviably smooth narration, blending microcosmic personal tragedies with macrocosmic political and economic failures into a sad, powerful account of a functional nation-state’s collapse. When I finished reading, I wanted more. Digging into Godwin’s Amazon.com author history, I came across Mukiwa, the fascinating autobiography of a white boy growing up in colonial Africa (and winner of the Orwell Prize for political writing).

Mukiwa spans multiple governments in a single country, as Godwin’s wonderfully interesting experiences stretch from Rhodesia as a British Crown Colony, to an international pariah, to an undeclared Republic, an unrecognized hybrid state in Zimbabwe-Rhodesia, and finally to Mugabe’s Zimbabwe. While Mukiwa isn’t necessarily a war memoir (though Godwin did spend much of his career as a war correspondent), several chapters are dedicated to his time serving with the British South Africa Police during the Rhodesian Bush War. So poignant were the stories from Godwin’s tour, I sent a copy to a close friend serving in Afghanistan. He too was taken with how simply and effectively Godwin laid out basic COIN principles, so much so that he had his NCOs read the chapters that I had bookmarked.

I reached out to Mr. Godwin, now a professor at Columbia University’s School of International and Public Affairs, who generously agreed to sit down for an interview.

Full article: An Interview with Peter Godwin

John Noonan is a national security and defense writer with The Weekly Standard and Military.com. Both Mukiwa and When a Crocodile Eats the Sun are available for purchase at Amazon.com.

On Skunks

Nice little piece on skunks: http://www.slate.com/id/2232163. I've encountered skunks a lot over the years--mostly while hunting and sometimes in whatever neighborhood I was living. They're mostly fearless; outside of owls, not many things will mess with them and they sort of walk around with that attitude. One of the most terrifying moments I ever experienced was on a hunt long ago when I was sitting under a cedar elm in a sort of makeshift blind of old logs and brush. It was before the break of daylight when out of the corner of my eye a skunk silently walked into my little bunker, sniffing around for something to eat. I sat there in something between a cold sweat and outright bowel movement in absolute abject terror of Pepe deciding maybe to break one off in my direction. Horrible feeling and I can tell you that heightened fear in a situation like that will serve as a splendid wake up for the rest of the day. Fortunately, my little friend wandered off and was hopefully eaten by a barn owl. I've used skunk scent as a cover scent when hunting over the years. Like stepping in a pile of fresh cow shit, skunk scent works as a pretty good block for the disgusting man scent that is loathed by delightful Disney animals far and wide. You have to be careful not to get it on your hands, though, or eating tacos will become a little less enjoyable. Of course, the best thing is bird season when you don't have to worry about a cover scent. Or, just say "to hell with it" and not worry about your scent and instead, nod off while reading a page turner in the blind. Most often, when you wake up, you'll see something looking at you wondering just how in the hell something can snore that loud. Works for me every time.

Hump Day

Fall is here as evidenced by the need to utilize semi-hand glove thingies in this cooler weather.

Hitchens on The Great War

Hitchens talks about World War I, particularly from the British perspective: http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200911/hitchens-somme. I've done some reading on "the war to end all wars" and it's mostly a process that leaves you shaking your head in trying to comprehend the magnitude of outright butchery and idiocy that went on from 1914 to 1918. Hitchens talks about the "Donkeys" or the British generals as they were so aptly described by the Germans and mentions Sir Douglas Haig as the worst offender of the bunch, sending a generation of British soldiers to death or disfigurement. If you ever go to Whitehall in London, right across from Horse Guards is an equestrian statue of Haig. Every time I've seen it, I've wondered at the cruel irony in life, perfected in that beautiful statue of a wretched ass who murdered thousands upon thousands of his own men.

Statues are an interesting thing. If you go to Mexico, you've no doubt been impressed by how often you see statues depicting various heroes of the revolution or some other aspect of Mexican culture, often right next to a highly blighted area. You don't see statues in the states with the same frequency. Right now, there's sort of a statue revisionism going on. Statues now tend to reflect a need to correct a perceived wrong. For example, in Austin you not only have a statue of the late congresswoman Barbara Jordan greeting passengers at the airport, but also now one of her just erected on the UT campus. The message there, I guess, is you damn well better know that Barbara Jordan was damn important, you backward knuckle draggers out there. I always liked the statue of Sam Houston near Herman Park in Houston. It's a classic and highly distinctive. I've seen a lot of statues all over the place depicting the Rev. Martin Luther King and he mostly comes off looking like a menacing, hulking mongoloid. Somebody needs to work on that. The World War I "doughboy" statues and the Confederate statues that you see usually on or around a courthouse square are almost always well done. From what I've read, towns recruited Italian artists to do the depictions and paid them well to do justice to their loved ones who went off to fight. Now, it's not so easy doing a military statue in that so many groups and sub-groups have to be pleased in the process of coming up with what will actually go up. Will he carry a weapon, will he look victorious or humble or will it indeed be a "he" and what kind of racial features will be highlighted. Probably now better to just go with a goddamn obelisk but that would probably piss off the hard core lesbian crowd. Life is curious in an enlightened society.

Johnny Fontane Sleeps With the Fishes

Al Martino dead: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/33307909/ns/entertainment-movies/ Too bad.

Vacation Report

Spent some time south of the border last week: http://www.tideszihuatanejo.com/. I recommend it. Instead of the ambitious, see every museum and landmark possible excursions we've done many times over the last ten years, the missus and I instead opted for a lot of time spent under a palapa with a book and tinkly drink, waving our hand occasionally for Fernando to bring "una mas" to our little table between the lounge chairs. Beautiful place, The Tides (it used to be the Hotel Villa del Sol before they sold out to the Tides group). They've expanded the place since we last visited about 17 or 18 years ago when it was about 25 unique units (now about 70). Still romantic, with dramatic views and wonderfully crafted rooms, many with patios equipped with plunge pools (they station plants around them to mostly strategically hide whatever close combat occurs in and around them). Very nice. Great food at the hotel and we of course ate entirely too much. Breakfast is about my favorite meal in Mexico. The butter, the eggs, the bacon--they all taste better. At the Tides, they bring a tray with a large pot of coffee, some bollillos, and a sort of abbreviated newspaper and leave it on a little stand outside your door at whatever time you appoint. So, you can wake up, have your coffee, read a little and then maybe go workout or something before going to breakfast. I heartily endorse this practice.

Don't know about you, but whenever we go to a hotel somewhere, the missus will locate a men's room somewhere outside of our room for me to utilize for defecation purposes. Is it a commonly held belief by women that the male bowel movement is the most hideous thing imaginable? I think possibly it is. I'll admit that I've frequently made some deposits that were disgusting even to me. And, probably it's a good idea that this practice occurs because I did manage to stop up two guest toilets twice on this vacation with enormous gringo sized deposits. Anyway, it's something that we do and it's probably for the better. I can go off somewhere, take my time, and catch up with box scores and the like.

There's not a surplus of gringos in Mexico right now, due to the season and to the recurring drug war issues. Outside of Mexico City and the border, you're mostly safe anywhere else. The bad guys are primarily engaged in going after the other bad guys along with law enforcement and involving stupid Americans in the process is bad for business. Most of the gringos who get caught up in the violence are in some way involved in the drug business--either selling it or buying it. If you avoid doing that, you're probably okay.

We had to connect in and out of Mexico City. I don't recommend it unless you have to. Confusing airport even if you speak Spanish. If you're the hapless Glubb family from Moline making their long awaited dream vacation to Cancun and miss their connection there, I pity them--they have just entered the depths of Mexican airport hell. No one will help them, they'll be endlessly misdirected, screwed over, and left for dead. They'll end up selling their clothes and maybe one of their small children for a ride out. If you can do it, fly direct to wherever you're going in Mexico.

You see some interesting types when you show up at a place like the Tides. There's the ditsy broad from the upper Midwest with her grating accent and amazing inability to comprehend or communicate anything resembling Spanish. Then there's the 53 year old cougar from Lake Charles with her 37 year old boy toy (I heard the ages come up while sitting at the other side of the bar). Lots of young, cute wives to view in there bikinis on the beach and at the pool. Some retired couples in groups spending their children's' inheritances--good for them. People negotiating (badly) with beach vendors over bracelets and parachute rides. But, mostly, a quiet place and just what we needed. Read a couple of books--the Tom Wolfe piece that skewers the New York elite over the fashionable parties given for the Black Panthers and others along with the delicate art of community organizers squeezing guilty white people for grants. Fun stuff. Also, a Bernard Cornwell book set in the period of the Danish siege and Viking raids on what is now modern day England. Fun reading: Cornwell is a skilled historical novelist. He did the Sharpe series which is set during the Napoleonic Wars along with several others. His book, "Agincourt" is a ripping good yarn.

Anyway, a great time. My appreciation to the warm hospitality of the Mexican people, lard, tequila, Bernard Cornwell, the lovely Mrs. Bulba, and to the fine folks at the Eli Lilly Company (NYSE-LLY) who produce a series of fine and useful products.

Note: I frequently dozed off under one of the palapas pictured above.

He Got What?

Did I go to sleep for four years and miss something, like maybe Ahmadinejad donning a yarmulke and celebrating Yom Kippur or Kim Jong il offering to step down and let the citizens elect a leader?

Rumor has it that our self-proclaimed, new and improved “Prince of Peace” has been awarded the nobel peace prize. Is this true, and if so, for what? Reading flowery speeches – which he does quite well btw – off a teleprompter? Bowing before sectarian warlord “kings”? Playing patty-cake with ego-maniacal nutjobs who just happen to lead backward countries that have the potential – and expressed desire – to kill each and every one of us? Ignoring our friends and sucking up to our enemies? Accepting the blame (well, not him personally. He’s actually speaking for you and me) for all of mankind’s woes, and offering, as a form of recompense I suppose, to turn us into a second class socialist society? Assuming that with little more than a wink and a nod – and a wee bit of groveling – he can cure what ails us?
Is that what it takes to win such a "prestigious" award? If so, I guess Cooperstown’s next, ‘cause his efforts at world peace so far have – for all intents and purposes - had about as much success as that first pitch he threw out…

Thoreau?

Yeah, I'll discuss Nature Boy all you want, just as soon as you show me where he penned some righteous prose praising natural wonders other than those found around an ordinary stock pond (please see exhibit A). Better yet, how about some literary justification that such stuff is what's really worthy of a little civil disobedience every now and then. Sure as hell would have made American Lit. a little less of a beating.

But until then, Happy Hump Day.

Move Over, Buckwheat

Well known to most of those who have made my acquaintance is the fact that I have reached that milestone in life known as “The New 30” (funny that you never hear 30 year-olds saying that). Never bothered me much as I approached it, and really hasn’t bugged me since arriving. Not the daily arrival of AARP propaganda, not the 27 ‘scripts for Viagra that were generously donated to me at my “New 30” party, not the monthly letter I get from my doctor recommending a “routine” (read “bi-century”) check-up, not even the offer of a “senior citizen” discount at the liquor store last weekend. Nope, you’re as old as you feel, I've always told myself, and fuck anyone who says otherwise. Besides, that discount saved me 10 bucks!
Yesterday I spent my lunch hour picking up some groceries for mom, who has been under the weather of late. I walked into the store sprightly – humming the theme from “The Little Rascals” for some unknown reason - flashed a quick smile at the check-out girls, grabbed a cart and made my way to the “Nutritional Supplements” aisle. As I dropped a couple of Ensure 4-packs into the cart, I realized that the mood-altering music coming over the store speakers was “Dark Side of the Moon”. Not the Milwaukee Philharmonic Symphony/Mannheim Steamroller version played on every Otis transportation device worldwide - the original Pink Floyd version. The whole damn album (CD). I slowly looked around, and shoppers all around me – you know, the usual workday noon-time shoppers, carts filled with things like I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter, Metamucil, Eggbeaters and Depends - were happily nodding their heads to the music. Some were even mouthing the words to “Us and Them”. My shoulders slumped as I trudged to the register, paid (no, I didn’t ask for a fucking discount), and made my way out of the store.
Damn I felt old. “New 30” my ass.
Albertson’s, thou art my Paris, and classic rock the arrow to my Achilles Heel.

Weekend Update

It's ACL Festival weekend in Austin. Forecast calls for solid rain. Nothing better than a mudfest and all-around clusterfuck in and around Zilker Park. Otherwise, Taras Bulba is leaving for a week and leaving the blog in the capable hands of Shellback and Nimdok to discuss Thoreau and belt fed weaponry. Enjoy your cake.

Hump Day--Belated

Sorry.