Of course because they're the practical ones because they have to be because they get left holding the bag with the baby in it.
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
“For all the talk of feminist revolution and male resistance, it seems that women are in some ways more traditional than men when it comes to marital norms.
Of course because they're the practical ones because they have to be because they get left holding the bag with the baby in it.
Details at the link.
Monday, September 29, 2014
Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare - JC is my favorite of all his tragedies. Caesar was a great man who because of his pride destroyed everything that he cherished. It reminds me that even when we are within our rights we can make horrible destructive choices for others. It also reminds that we must choose which side we're on. There are no neutrals in life.
Prose Fiction: Huckleberry Finn by Samuel Clemens: HF is a book that reminds us that when we flee our problems we often are simply driving ourselves deeper into the heart of darkness. That to try to live rightly is agonizingly difficult and yet the only option if we are to keep our selves.
The Protestant Bible: While not fiction it is not truly non fiction either because it speaks of things that depend on our faith. It's about God and our relationship with him and all that foofera but I treasure it because of the incredible characters that fill its pages. This was the first truly human book - the first to treat human beings as persons rather than symbols or categories. It remains the greatest explanation of why we are here and why we're important. It was through this book that mankind first received the gift of dignity.
There are a couple of popular science books on my list. Genome by Matt Ridley and Quantum Reality by Nick Herbert - The Genomic/Evolution and Quantum Mechanics theories are the two most culturally influential ideas of our age regardless of how accurate our understanding of them turns out to be. The Genomic/Evolution theory has pushed God from the center of the action to the edge (though not necessarily from the center of reality) while the Quantum Theory has dethroned certainty. You see ripples of these ideas everywhere. These books are a bit old but the point is not the details but the impact on the lens that we see the world through.
Modern Times by Paul Johnson. Johnson ties together the anomie of The Waste Land (#2) with the dislocation driven by the theories underlying Genomic/Evolution (#5) and Quantum Reality (#6) with a Catholic sensibility (#4 minus apocrypha) into a coherent narrative that explains how we have gotten here and what is happening to us. And he's a damn good prose stylist to boot.
The Blank Slate by Stephen Pinker is a brilliant summary of what science knows about our natures. In it the atheist Pinker surveys over one thousand studies confirming the traditional 'tragic' view of human nature as imperfect and unperfectable creatures while adding lots of fascinating detail to the picture. It rubbishes all utopian fantasies whether by Marxists or Church ladies. A word of warning: don't look at his photo on the back page because his perm will give you nightmares. Woof!
The Road to Serfdom by Fred Hayek. Not really economics but instead true moral philosophy of the highest order without the miserable aridity of academic philosophy. A U Chicago man (my fair school) as well. The anti-Krugman and anything that gives Pauly K conniptions has to be good.
Liberal Fascism - I agree with David Shane. Jonah Goldberg's book explains our politics and specifically why the pursuit of power for its own sake in our world is so dangerous. Much of what our elites are doing from Rape hysteria to Climate hysteria to Redskin hysteria is inexplicable without understanding what Jonah has laid out. Completely and totally freaked John Stewart of the Daily Show out - which is always a good sign.
Okay, that's my ten but I demand the right to add one more:
Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams - Actually three very good books (four and five are much weaker), The Hitchhiker trilogy reminds the arrogant part of each of us that no matter what we invent, write, build or achieve, sometime in the future someone is going to make a rude joke of it or use it in naughty ways. And if that doesn't give you humility, nothing will. Eventually everything becomes funny, particularly us.
Also, this exercise reminds me why I try to avoid being challenged to do things by gosh darn academics - it takes so much time and it ends up making you sound pompous as hell. Darn you David Shane!
In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.
If not us, then who? If not now, then when?
When my son graduated the sixth grade - excuse me, but when did people start graduating the sixth grade? My Grandfather only made it to the sixth grade but they didn't hold a bleeding graduation for him did they? No they sent him off to work as a tool monkey on oil rigs - imagine the educational credentials you need to be a twelve year old tool monkey. But my son's school had to have a graduation ceremony where every kid was expected to recite a poem or somebody's used speech or bang on a piano and if they screwed up would cause their parents to lose face with all the other scheming, grasping social climbers that infested Ladue like termites on a Baobab tree. So parents would hire teams of professionals to turn their lackluster spawn into a poor facsimile of a pop star for one lousy rendition of a 3 minute song so they could one up the Friedmans only to be upstaged by the Korean scholarship kid playing flawless Chopin. Bloody private schools. Or when I'm thinking more clearly: bloody overachieving immigrants.
But I digress. As I was saying, it was when my son graduated the sixth grade that I first realized something quite shocking: among the thirty or so students graduating there were 15 little boys in matching blue blazers and mommy's best bowl cuts and a few little girl equivalents. Then there were 11 or 12 beautiful, poised young women who seemed to have strolled into the wrong ceremony. I turned to my (ex) wife and said: I don't remember it being like this when I was their age. She looked at me dismissively and said: "it still is" - no, that's no true, she didn't say that but she was thinking it. What she really said was "Oh yeah, that's the way it is at that age".
I had no idea.
Not a clue, not even a hint of a clue of the immense chasm between boys and girls. Which is funny because I lived it. No that's not quite right: I writhed in agony over it for years on end. I was a small, late developing and particularly testosterone challenged young man (young man being what older adults call you when you exhibit absolutely no evidence of manhood whatsoever). And I had no idea what was really going on. Yes, I had had the "talk" and had played tether-ball while the girls had all the "extra talks" which in retrospect wasn't fair at all. Not only were they emotionally, physically and for all I know spiritually more mature, they also got more coaching - how in the devil did they expect me to cope with such an extreme power imbalance?
For I was Protoman - in theory male but lacking virtually all evidence thereof, a subterranean dwelling groundhog like creature who when I first came to the surface in seventh grade encountered such dazzling creatures, such angels, so unlike the grubs and roots that I had lived with my whole life that I was blinded and like Punxsutawny Phil forced to retreat and await the end of my puberty winter six years hence. Were I wiser, I would have stayed underground or gotten sent to a military school or boys reformatory or supermax prison or some other place less harrowing than American style secondary coeducation was for me.
But of course I didn't.
Because I had fallen in love. With all of them. Well almost all of them or at least in love with the idea of being in love with all of them which admittedly - given my lagging hormonal chemistry - was a rather foolish thing to do. But as I stipulated earlier I had absolutely no idea that the girls that I saw walking around my school had in the space of a few short months moved light years beyond the kids that I used to beat at Indian leg wrestling. And crucially, that I had stayed stuck firmly in the same shrimp sized space I had always inhabited. It was this dichotomy between my self image: "Debonair man about campus", my reality: "Pure boy containing no less than 10% pimples by weight" and the changed status of the girls around me: "Goddesses" that was the source of so much pain and suffering through my junior high and high school career. Take for example the problem with my locker.
At my international school in Jakarta we had those little lockers that stacked five one on top of the other and I had the middle one. The two lockers above me were occupied by two of the tallest, blondest girls that I had ever met. They were from Germany and Holland respectively and they had breasts. At about exactly my eye level. They would come up between class talking in their (in my humble opinion) sexy Germanic accents and stand there with their lockers open expecting me to weave between their - I mean them - to get to mine. Sometimes they would drop things on me and I would pick them up for which they thanked me the way a young Marlene Dietrich must have thanked Humphrey Bogart for saving her from Nazis, turning me into a gibbering, crimson ninny. To this day I attribute my "C" in Algebra I to poor locker placement. I cannot understand how the school could be so lax as to not consider the threat of psychological trauma to boys like me when allocating locker space.
Then there were the Bikinis. There is this notion among church ladies and other paragons of virtue that small revealing bathing apparel is immoral. I don't know about immoral but for protomen like me it was definitely stressful. Particularly in Jakarta which is five hundred miles away from the equator and warm all year round. And given that one of the 'hot spots' for teens centered upon an American club with a large pool and a notable lack of air conditioning, bikinis were de rigueur. Bikinis weren't a big problem in the fourth grade but the bikini issue began to rear its curvaceous head in sixth grade and was a roaring monster by seventh, expanding in certain directions every year thereafter. I'm not really sure girls understood just what an impact all the bikini-age had on the boys around them. Perhaps it was a special topic covered while we were playing tether-ball. Something along the lines of "OK girls here's something that will drive the boys nuts but the key is that you can't ever let on that you know it's making them gaga. Here are the three key maneuvers guaranteed to temporarily cut blood supply to the male brain reducing their ability to cope by the equivalent of ten IQ points". Me, I think I generally lost twenty because encountering bikini clad teen girls limited my vocabulary to single syllable words and "ums" and I had an incredibly difficult time answering simple questions with anything but a strong, declarative grunt.
Now I'm all "yay" bikini - except for my daughter of course - but back then I honestly don't know how I made it through holidays like spring break and Christmas what with all the exposed Goddess flesh.
To get girls to pay attention to me I often would 'hang out' with guys that I thought girls liked or at least that girls stood near for extended periods of time in the hopes that whatever attracted girls to them would rub off on me. One time I was hanging with a couple guys who seemed to be friends with the Girl of My Dreams du jour. They were using a code that I later found out had to do primarily with girls' private parts. This code was not one that I was familiar with as I tended to learn all of my more salacious vocabulary and details from my (much faster developing) younger brother. So I was standing with these....gentlemen when The Girl drove up on her minibike. I bobbed, gulped and choked in lieu of a greeting while my friend - we'll call him "Tom" began the intricate dance of insult that he had been dared into by the other kid present who we will call "Brian" for want of a more appealing name. Tom began this particular dans macabre with the classic veiled innuendo to which the young lady (young lady not implying lack of maturity as young man clearly does) in question responded with a firm nolle prosque to which Tom countered with the appropriate (unbeknownst to me) insult. Which caused her to make a face - at which time I - thinking the joke quite different than the one that Tom was trying for - laughed. Earning me the most withering glare that I had ever experienced from an incumbent Girl of My Dreams who then proceeded to fire up her mini bike and drive off. I have to confess that I never had the courage to look her in the eye again - and we rode on the same school bus every day. It was a particularly tragic loss to me because she had the Suzuki. And the thing was: I didn't even know what the hell anyone was talking about.
Our school, not being in the bible belt - actually we were in the Koran belt but that didn't apply to us - had a lot of dances. Dances that included slow dancing without anyone walking around trying to stick their hands in between the dancers - what is it about certain people that they get their kicks at finding couples who are enjoying their dance and try to stick their damned hand in between them like it's some blue stocking menage a trois? Honestly, don't teachers get enough at home?
But I digress. Slow dances sans handsy teachers turned out to be a problem for me. Surprisingly I was able to get girls to dance with me but when things got close "He" reared his ugly head and I had to break the clinch to "get something to drink", "go the bathroom", "burp", or some other lame excuse. Little did I know that girls considered "His" arrival as simply an occupational hazard of slow dancing with boys, not that they particularly wanted "Him" to show up during "Color my World" but what were they going to do? This paranoid obsession of mine became a particular problem when a truly beautiful girl of Polynesian extraction took an uncharacteristic interest in me at the annual Sadie Hawkins day dance. I know, it freaked me out too. She kept asking me to dance fast dances over and over again clearly expecting me to reciprocate on the slow ones but I knew she was only doing that because she didn't know about "Him". As soon as she found out about "Him" what would she think of me? So I wasted an entire evening alternatively dancing with and ignoring the most beautiful girl that had ever shown the slightest interest in me.
We remained friends despite my deranged dancing behavior and it led to other incidents that I shudder to recall. For example, she was bigger than me. Not that she was fat, she was simply an older, much more mature, full figured girl normal for her age and I....wasn't. So we were at some event or party at the International club which had a pool even bigger than the American club and she of course was in a bikini (what was it with these girls and their bikinis?) and everyone was doing the game where you put your girlfriend on your shoulders and then they 'fight' - the sport has a lot of touching and grabbing and girls fake fighting so you can understand its appeal. Except I was with someone who outweighed me. So we solved the problem by me sitting on her shoulders which resulted in us rising to the top of the league tables but was not a particularly good sign for a budding romance. Indeed this party closed out the school year and by the time I came back to Jakarta in the fall my Polynesian princess had found an older man replete with whiskers, muscles and most importantly, a total body mass at least double mine. Sigh.
Then there was the girl in my Modern History class: V. She was great: beautiful, friendly, open, engaging - even to me - me! I thought she was a cross between Diana Goddess of the Hunt and that French lady they copied for the Statue of Liberty. So I maneuvered myself into permanent perch in the desk next to her the better to moon at her rather than pay attention to class. Until one day when she turned up in a dress. I mean a real woman's dress back in the days when they wore hose and heels and everything. And that was all it took. Well that and the fact that some much older, more worldly man, perhaps a junior, flipped her skirt up in my presence which allowed me to see absolutely nothing. But simply the concept that girls could wear such things and in theory one could go up to them and flip their skirt up so overwhelmed my imagination that I had to move several seats away from her so that I could regain my composure while Mrs. Barbour explained the difference between Cavalry and Calvary - not that I cared that day whether I was ridden or saved.
Eighth grade turned out to be particularly traumatic for me mostly because of my successes: I got into the school Musical, Bye Bye Birdie. Playing a teen. Me. A teen! All I can say is that they must have been scraping the bottom of the barrel to miscast me as a hip 50s teen - I would have been a more credible little brother to someone. And on top of this in a clear error of judgement rising to the level of negligence whomever was in charge of casting gave me a role as a dancer, And not some surreal dancer in leotards but a 50s sock hop dancer. With a girl. You know, dances that had dance moves and slinging the girl around and all that. They had yet to develop the acronym OMFG but that is in fact what I thought when I read that I was to be paired with my friend's older sister S. More like OMFG-WTF with extra skulls and daggers. And surprisingly when S found out she didn't have the typical response that girls unfortunate enough to be paired with me had: lodging a formal protest with the authorities and failing that, contracting a highly contagious disease that cleared up just after the event in question. No, she actually swallowed her pride and undertook the daunting task of turning me into someone who wouldn't completely humiliate her on stage. I repaid her mercy in the cruelest way possible by becoming completely infatuated. Which was a no brainer: beautiful? Check, seemed to tolerate me? Check, was constantly touching me and telling me better ways to touch her? Cheecckk! So you can see she was doomed to having Pimplestiltskin hopping around her until she ran me off.
Which happened pretty quickly after I took my younger brother's advice on how to handle 'babes' as he so eloquently put it. He said "you just go up to her and tell her you like her"
"Whaddya mean what? You say that and if she says she likes you then bam! you're 'in'."
So I went with the little bro's advice which went over about as well as you would expect. For if she didn't get the point from my witty repartee she definitely got it from my crazed, desperate look. So aside from casting doubt on my brother's claims of romantic expertise the entire exercise was a huge, humiliating bust. Not that S was cruel - she let me down as easily as any demented kid could be. But it still felt like I'd run over myself. Over and over again.
You would think with all of my romantic false starts, hiccoughs, stumbles, trips and falls that I would have been particularly sensitive to the pain that others experienced playing the game of romance without a full deck. And you would be wrong. There was a girl in the grade below me, K. She had braces and was tall in that awkward way that teenage girls sometimes get: all knobby knees and elbows. One day she mustered the courage to ask me to the Sadie Hawkins day dance. I could tell what was going through her mind and knew how stressful it must have been for her but I still harbored dreams of repeating my Polynesian experience (and this time getting it right) so naturally a 'hot commodity' like me didn't want to be tied down by a member of the 'awkward squad'. So I made some ridiculous excuse and she reacted the way that I did in such circumstances: with equal parts embarrassment and disappointment. And the sad thing is I actually liked K and we would have had fun. But the saddest (and most karmic-ly appropriate) thing from my perspective happened five years later. I was back home for the summer and I spied perhaps one of the two or three most beautiful women I have ever encountered in my life. Honest. I am not exaggerating. She must have seen me staring because she turned and walked straight up to me but instead of telling me to buzz off and get a life, she said "Hi Bill". It was K, in town for her wedding.
Eventually Mr. T (I pity the man who ain't hairy and don't smell) showed up at my door. But deeper voice and actual muscles notwithstanding, when it came to the fairer sex I remained the same consummate ass I had always been. And the best example I can give of my supreme ass hattery (assitude? assness?) was my rematch with S if you can call yet another complete fiasco a 'match'. It was over a year later at our Concert Choir's end of year Anyer Beach junket and blowout weekend (what can I say? we were a peculiarly profitable high school choir) and after dinner somehow my friend C. and I ended up with S. and her friend R. Our friend M. probably would have joined us and kept me out of trouble had he not been on the lam because he had rashly smeared Afitson (Indonesian Ben Gay) on the toilet seat of the choir's largest Bass who in response was enthusiastically seeking M so he could use all of his badass bass-ness to as he so colorfully put it: "wring his scrawny little neck".
So we four strolled out onto the beach. It was a moonlit night (of course) and the waves were crashing and sighing against the shore while palm trees swayed in a breeze filled with the tantalizing scents of Java and Sumatra (of course). And in the distance there were flashes of heat lightning illuminating the waterspouts sinuously weaving around the doomed island volcano of Krakatoa. It was that bloody romantic. Barbara Cartland could have cleaned up had she put that setting in one of her bodice rippers. And it was in this almost comically charged environment that we plopped down onto the soft, dry sand to talk. Somehow C. ended up paired up with R. and I with my previous nemesis: S. Sigh. Thinking that C and R were trying to get something going and being a good and thoughtful friend I swallowed my embarrassed discomfort and sat there talking with S. We talked about this and that as I doodled in the sand. Eventually I drew a line and then absentmindedly made it into an arrow to which she added fletching and then - inexplicably - drew a heart around it in the classic Cupid money shot configuration.
And I froze. What did this mean? My mind began to race: "OMFG, OMFG, OMFG? Doesshereallylikemenow or am I just imagining things? WTF? OhGodohGodohGodohGod whatdoIdo? Is she looking at me, how do I look? What? How? Where?" As my brain descended into panic mode my body seized up. If someone had consulted my System Manager it would have shown my CPU and RAM pegging out at 100%. Now I know that this wasn't technically true but it seemed as if I entered a state of catatonic paralysis with my hand upheld, poised to write on the sand and that so locked was carried back to my hotel room and from there back home. Of course by the time my brain finally rebooted and I could function again my (imagined?) moment had passed. I knew this because in the interim my 'good friend' C had gotten together with S and not R as one would have reasonably expected. On the bright side M lived to smear toilet seats again, narrowly avoiding being strangled by the big bad Bass whose temper had cooled at the same rate as his burning backside did.
And it wasn't long after that that my family left Jakarta, moving to a place where scrub oaks swayed in a breeze filled with the rustic scents of Oklahoma cow pats, where exploding electrical transformers flashed, illuminating the killer tornadoes dancing in the distance and where handsy teachers ruled the land. But maybe, just maybe in Bartlesville, Oklahoma I would find the romance that had so eluded me in the tropics.
Contrary to my elaborate fantasies, I didn't suddenly turn into God's gift to womankind in Oklahoma. Apparently there was a strong global consensus on my many romantic inadequacies at that time. I actually didn't get an honest to gosh girlfriend until I was 20 which was about the time that I started shaving. Since then I've had three 'serious' relationships, if you count my marriage (and boy was it serious), interspersed with a few fiascoes for old time's sake. All three women were both uniquely beautiful and perplexing to me - I cherish my memories of each of them. I wouldn't say that I've been particularly 'lucky' at love (I remain, as ever, something of an 'ass' in this area) but I have realized that having another person who is uniquely yours and you theirs, someone who chooses of their own free will to intertwine lives with you is something that I have longed for ever since my first futile blunders in the seventh grade. And I don't suppose that will ever change. Because like most people, I need to be wanted and want to be needed.
Author's Note: Believe it or not these stories are all true. Or as true as I can make them over thirty years after the fact. I really was that big of a dope - ask anyone. Some of you may think that I have gotten some of the details wrong which is probably true as my memory today is certainly no better than my 'romantic moves' were back then. That being said, if you don't like my story make up your own damn memories - I mean faithfully record your memoirs for posterity. Then we can have a memory off. God help us.
Almost no one will challenge the new liberal Victorianism. Except South Park God bless 'em. Why is it that our left leaders preach diversity and enforce orthodoxy? Trey Parker and company hold a mirror to the self righteous ogender, race, class and language bigots.
In the first episode of their 17th season they take on the pathetic Redskin con artists. Long may they skewer.
The proggo left believes that they can manage people's lives better than the people themselves. This breathtaking arrogance now extends to sex on college campuses. There is a reason why California is one of the poorest states in the nation. Details at link.
Sunday, September 28, 2014
The authoritarian statists will use any excuse, any opportunity to grasp more power and truncate liberty
THE WHOLE POINT OF A TRAGEDY IS THAT IT OFFERS AN OPPORTUNITY TO CRACK DOWN ON TROUBLESOME MINORITIES:Sandy Hook Commission Calls For Government Crackdown On Homeschools. “The onerous new rules for homeschooling families somehow make sense in the minds of commission members because Adam Lanza massacred 20 young children and six teachers at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Conn. in December 2012 — when he was 20 years old.”
It seems to me that increasingly intolerance of anything but social liberalism and the concentration of more and more power in a centralized administrative state supervising an increasingly nominal market capitalist economy are signs of stagnation and fear. Our elites fear change so we don't get the creative destruction we need to move foward. Whole sectors of our economy and society have been subsumed in a deadening miasma of regulation, law and subsidy, leading to stasis and fear rather than dynamism and courage.
God help us every one.
It's time that police violence gets as much press notice as criminal violence. 150 paramilitary assaults a day on American homes is both evil and insane.
The war on drugs would have been impossible for the government to wage for the last 40 plus years without support from the media. Earlier this month, a DEA agent shot a grandmother reaching for her child during a raid that found no drugs. In the summer, a SWAT team in Georgia threw a flashbang into a baby's crib, critically injuring it. There are more than 150 such raids each day in America, so there are a lot of horrifying stories that come out of that, on a regular basis. Rarely, if ever, do such stories break out of the local news and into the national news cycle. But, writes Ed Krayewski, that's changing.View this article
The media is finally waking up to the out of control enforcement state. Remember: Don't trust law enforcement or the court system. They're not on your side, they're on their side.
The results are awful. The penguins are dwindling. The polar bears are running out of ice floes. The cornfields are drying. The southwest is frying.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
I THINK THE TOLERANCE POLICE PREFER TO TARGET THEIR DOMESTIC POLITICAL ENEMIES: “If we’re giving no quarter to intolerance, shouldn’t we be starting with the mutilators and the honor killers?”
The thing to remember is that talk of tolerance and diversity is mostly just a political weapon for white people to use against other white people. It’s not about actually helping anyone.
I mean ludicrous lies like one in five rape fraud that HBO keeps retailing aren't going to be believed by adults are they?
Not if Jon I Ernst gas anything to say about it.
Ernst is ebullient when campaigning. And the Democratic Party’s single idea — the trope that Republicans live to wage a “war on women” — leaves Ernst bemused: “I am a woman, and I have been to war and this is not war.” A 5-foot-2 grandmother, she is a National Guard lieutenant colonel who served in Iraq.
George Orwell had important things to say about all of the 'smelly little orthodoxies' that fraudulent language promotes and protects in his "Politics and the English Language".
This from the comments section of Carpe Diem:
In Africa, India and other developing places, 1.2 billion people live without access to electricity, and many more live without an adequate supply. They want a more energy-friendly future with “luxuries” such as light bulbs and clean cooking facilities, not to mention improved sanitation. Energy-starved nations are not well-positioned to take advantage of economic opportunities, better living standards and improved human welfare.
With today’s technologies, greenhouse gas emissions are closely tied to energy production, so the president’s call for lowering emissions is akin to a call for constraining energy expansion in these nations. Such an outcome would have large-scale negative impacts, not only to those directly affected but to the world as a whole.
This is the very essence of imperialism. The environmental left, having the good luck to reside almost exclusively in wealthy Western countries which can afford their boutique energy schemes, seeks to keep other nations poor and energy starved while the benefits (a supposedly cleaner environment) flow to them.
App can read any text out loud. Prediction: government subsidies for braille books will be larger in real terms in 20 years time than they are today. The Federal Stupor state rolls on. Until the collapse, that is.
Friday, September 26, 2014
Holder exists to protect the president and his policies. Worse, his successor will almost certainly take up exactly where he leaves off.
Another thing that men with guns are good for: Shooting crazed head hacking muslims before they kill again
Lewis confirms that Hufford was stabbed several times and that Nolen “severed her head.”
At that point, Lewis claims Nolen met 43-year-old Traci Johnson and began attacking her with the same knife.
Officials say at that point, Mark Vaughan, an Oklahoma County reserve deputy and a former CEO of the business, shot him as he was actively stabbing Johnson.
“He’s a hero in this situation,” Sgt. Lewis said, referring to Vaughan. “It could have gotten a lot worse.”
There was a time in this country when people had both liberty and privacy. The progressive fetish to ever more minutely manipulate our lives has put paid to liberty and the proggo shock troops in law enforcement trample privacy so the can ensure that we are not breaking any of the hundreds of thousands of rules.
Which don't seem to apply to the government or its proggo masters. The New encryption is just the people fighting back against the statist thugs.
And when the collapse comes it will come with terrifying swiftness for the followers of Allah - it will suddenly become obscene and unacceptable to be a muslim in most of the world. Which will be a good, healthy thing. Like a healthy body rejecting a deadly virus.
I am shocked, shocked to find regulatory capture going on in the banking industry. Of course the regulatory environment in the US has gotten so lunatic Ober the last six years that it is literally impossible to abide by the regs. Which is catnip for the politicos who extract rents for issuing regulatory indulgences.
Bill Frezza was fired for writing a column that told the truth about drunk college women and was fired for it.
With one stroke they've destroyed the reputation that Malcolm Forbes spent a lifetime building. Steve Forbes must be a real schmuck to let this happen.
And Greg Abbott intends to radically cut back the thicket of anticompetitive licensure requirements for certain fields. Texas goes from strength to strength.
..where it consumes a lot of investment for little benefit until the tech and process are perfected sufficiently to reliably cahflow. Then tons of people pile in and experienced and scale economies take over along with hundreds of refinements in the tech. The result is almost vertical gains in productivity for a time until all of the obvious innovation extensions are exploited and the innovation rate slows down.
Fracking is at the steepest sweetest phase of the curve right niw and it's a wonder to behold.
The most frightening consequence of the Current Administration is that it has led China to conclude that the US won't fight
The rather aimless, poll driven and wishful Obama foreign policy threatens to lead China into the greatest miscalculation of US resolve since Pearl Harbor. China is widely reported as believing that the US won't intervene to save it's friends in Taiwan, Japan, and Korea - an impression they did not get from George W Bush.
The real threat is that China's miracle economy stalls and retrenches causing mass unrest and China's rulers are panicked into foreign adventures to rally public opinion to them. Call it the Galtieri Gambit after the General in charge of the Argentine junta who invaded the Falklands to divert public opinion away from his faltering rule.
Only if China does so it will be a disaster the likes of which haven't been seen since WW2. God help us every one. As Kissinger said:
As Henry Kissinger says of the Korean War, “We did not expect the attack; China did not expect our response.” Of such miscalculation, devastating wars are made.
Read the whole frightening thing.
Thursday, September 25, 2014
For some reason our society valorizes the weak and sanctifies failure. Not a good sign for the future. It's probably why the Chinese believe they can beat us in a war.
What if it's the very trendy liberalism of modern western society that is the very signal to the world's predators to begin their rampage? What do our "smelly little othodoxies" really cost us?
One broker reported that parents interested in living near their boarding-school children now represented over 30 percent of her business.
Hattip Marginal Revolution
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Megan McCardell documents a litany of lies and broken promises, dishonest editing and the worst form of gutter journalism. He gets away with his unethical behavior because he claims he's not a journalist and the Daily Show isn't news. But millennials treat it as news and Stewart encourages them. Read the whole thing at the link.
Asset forfeiture is a crime committed by our stationary bandits: the police, prosecutors and judges.
What happens when those charged with enforcing law become criminals? Link.has details.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Well at least she's not racist. Academics say that Michelle O's food standads are "Classist and Sexist"
Monday, September 22, 2014
David Gelertner, a Yale Professor and brilliant writer of "Drawing Life" the best living memoir I have ever read summarizes her visit:
The attempts over the last decade to silence Ayaan Hirsi Ali range from death threats to polite suggestions that she be barred from campuses. They have served only to heighten her stature—and Hirsi Ali is already impressively tall. She has a stately bearing, dresses quietly and tastefully. She speaks slowly, with a rich and robust accent. And you’ll never see a less affected speaker at a podium.
She began by thanking Yale in contrast with Brandeis University. The latter had, only a few months earlier, first offered and then rescinded an honorary degree and an invitation to appear at their commencement ceremony. Yale will probably get more credit than it deserves for the comparison: It was not the university but William F. Buckley, Jr. Program, a conservative undergraduate group, that invited her to speak on campus. Perhaps Yale will follow through and do the decent thing and award her a degree this spring term. That would mean something. It would turn Yale into a bastion of freedom overnight, at a time when American universities are threatening to become an elaborate, extremely expensive practical joke.
Hirsi Ali was introduced by Harvey Goldblatt, a professor of Slavic languages, who praised her courage and especially her work on women’s rights, and reminded the audience that part of a serious academic environment is listening to opposing viewpoints. That this reminder should be deemed necessary on a university campus is striking, but even more striking was the almost pleading tone. There was a hidden acknowledgment of helplessness, like a Wild-West saloon owner sidling up to the local outlaws and saying, “Please, y’all, we don’t want any trouble here.”
The protesters who had warned against a rabble-rousing speech to be delivered by an ideological firebrand must have been doubly disappointed. Hirsi Ali is a gentle, thoughtful speaker. There were no red-meat “applause lines”—though she did often get applause. Her thesis was simple: Any attempt to deal with Islamic terrorism is doomed unless we acknowledge its connection to Islam. Every religion has a “core,” and the core of Islam is to submit to the will of Allah. (That is, in fact, what the word “Islam” means—submission to God. Hence also the title of Hirsi Ali’s film collaboration with Dutch director Theo van Gogh criticizing the treatment of women in Islam. Van Gogh was subsequently murdered by an Islamic extremist.)
She insisted that there are not, as some suggest, “many Islams”—but there are several sets of Muslims: The first group are radicals who want to force the entire world into Islam by eradicating everything else. The second group, the vast majority, are in a “state of cognitive dissonance”—torn between the strict teachings of the first group and their own consciences, which revolt at the terrorists’ behavior. The third group, perhaps the smallest, are reforming Muslims, who suggest, for example, that mosque and state should be separate. Members of the third group are excommunicated, exiled, threatened, murdered.
Politico: Lois Lerner: "I was so innocent that I had to take the Fifth to avoid incriminating myself"
The survey data can be found here.
Well in fairness to the Obami when you subordinate all of life to politics, everything is political.
Hattip Glen Reynolds
Frank Fleming: Hillary has to be careful to not let the fact that she's not particularly good at anything distract from how she's a woman.
Indeed. Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton are the logical apotheosis (apotheosises? Apotheosi?) Of identity politics: identity without capability. Because anyone capable would have achieved something that would have upset someone. Better to be pure identity.
Hattip Glenn Reynolds
Because like 90 percent of Dems, half of all Republicans are DC insiders or wannabes. And they want a more powerful (and profitable) centralized state that gives them maximum flexibility to 'get things done' for their careers. Jay cost outlines a principled (and therefore DOA) alternative at the link.
By my calculations a large University like Texas at Austin experiences over 25 sexual assaults every night during the school year. And that understates the tragedy because according to victims many are raped over and over, night after night in their own beds by the same rapist or sometimes in the rapist's bed or in the back of cars, or on the floor, or in front of the fireplace or on the kitchen counter. Golly, the sirens from the police responding to calls on sexual assault must fill the night air around major universities. We should probably increase police response tenfold. But wait! The Obama administration has issued new regulations that instruct (with swingeing fines for non compliance) Universities not to call the police when find a young woman has been sexually assaulted. They are supposed to let the rapist run free while the campus disciplinary committee develops its case. No doubt to smoke the little pervert out when he sexual assaults again. I admire the subtle brilliance of the Obama administration - but they always said Barack Obama was the smartest Man at Harvard Law - and I believe them.
But what does it say about Universities that these paragons of liberal rectitude have rates of brutality towards women that are ten or twenty times that of the far less enlightened young hoi polloi not in college? What is it about the college environment that produces such immense rates of evil in our young men? And immense rates of naive stupidity in our young women? Is it the "overall anything goes" message from the faculty and staff? Is it all the liberalism and hatred of America? Is it just the generalized scorn for 'traditional morality'? Whatever it is it seems obvious that you wouldn't want your daughter to attend an American college. And because the poison that colleges extrude seems to be producing vile, perverted behavior in men, why would you want your sons to attend either?
Perhaps the Muslims are right: women are only safe in their father's home until they move to their husband's home. But President Obama also tells us that marriages are hotbeds of sexual assault and violent abuse towards women as well. Clearly young men and women have too much freedom - we need to organize them into quasi military organizations so that they can be properly segregated and supervised and serve the State rather than sin against it. Something like the WPA for every one - you know - an Americanized Konsomol. We could call it the Obama Youth. And then they could graduate into the Obama Social Army - a cohesive Corps of Community Organizers that Saul Alinsky (PBUH) could only dream of.
Thank God we have the Smartest Man at Harvard Law leading us.
Sunday, September 21, 2014
Saturday, September 20, 2014
Ken Burns doesn't so much report history as manufacture collectivist parables and deities. There isn't much truth in this Republic anymore. Whether it's the fraudulent AP history taught to our brightest students, the ludicrous global warming catechism, the Choo Choo cargo cult or the drunken keynsianism that passes for fiscal and monetary policy, the things we a told that just ain't so are legion. They cement the bien pensants in power and America in its steady decline into despair.
This is how civilizations die: one convenient lie at a time.
They funded The Immensity aka: Climate Change The Musical and just like the real one it flopped. Lousy impresarios, lousy scientists. Great party hacks, though. More at the link.
Friday, September 19, 2014
And is it any wonder that people who believe this are unable to foster the conditions for growth and innovation? President Obama: call your servuce.
The whole gospel of Karl Marx can be summed up in a single sentence: Hate the man who is better off than you are. Never under any circumstances admit that his success may be due to his own efforts, to the productive contribution he has made to the whole community. Always attribute his success to the exploitation, the cheating, the more or less open robbery of others. Never under any circumstances admit that your own failure may be owing to your own weakness, or that the failure of anyone else may be due to his own defects - his laziness, incompetence, improvidence, or stupidity.
If the Efficient Market Hypothesis were false then large institutional investors would be diving into, not bailing out of hedge funds
Just sayin'. More sayin' at the link.
You know the Nazi party became dominant on German campuses long before it gained power in Germany. The Nazis were environmentalists, opposed to factory farming and food additives, opposed to academic distinctions and status and in favor of students having a much greater say on campus policy. Jewish persecution got its start on college campuses where jews were heavily overrepresented. The SS was explicitly modeled as an elite force to attract college boys.
Colleges always breed utopian extremism. Which is why we need less of them. Particularly the ones that claim they will mold young men and women. Because the "molds" they use are obscene.
So will negative credit will be given for students who think for themselves ?
Another brick in the wall that colleges are building between themselves and intellectual freedom, true diversity, relevance.....reality.
Thursday, September 18, 2014
My goal is to be come "The Claw"
President Barack Obama plans to exert a high degree of personal control on the targeting of strikes in Syrian territory once the U.S. air campaign against Islamic State in Syria begins. We report that officials have said the targeting protocol might go so far as to require that the military obtain presidential signoff for each strike. Mr. Obama met with his top military advisers in Tampa yesterday, but he hasn't given the green light for an attack on Syria.
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
For a flaky, weird place Austin has particularly authoritarian cops. Wait, authoritarian is the definition of quirky leftism.
Anybody who has an issue with the gun totin' bebadged is a 'terrorist'.
He is a Timesman. Hath not a Timesman eyes? Hath not a Timesman brains,
ideas, concepts, senses, affections, a bloody reading list; fed with the same
leftist cant, filled with the same "I Rigoberta Menchu" drivel, subject to the same intellectual diseases, heal'd by the same means, warm'd and cool'd by the same hot air blatheirng
as a Literate man is? If you call him a stupid prick, will he not whine? If
you tickle him, will he not scream harassment? If you poison him with politically correct nostrums will his intellect not die?
And if he gets Shakespeare wrong, will he not denigrate it as old and dead and white and male? If he is ignorant in this, then he will report ignorantly in everything.