Made the mistake of reading De Telegraaf during lunch - as usual, agida was the result.
An article mentioned an American Schoolteacher who was sentenced to twenty years for having sex with a thirteen year old boy.
Twintig jaar cel voor seks met leerling
http://www.telegraaf.nl/buitenland/5684122/__Twintig_jaar_cel_voor_seks_met_leerling__.html?p=10,1
IDAHO - Een Amerikaanse lerares is dinsdag door de rechtbank veroordeeld tot twintig jaar celstraf omdat ze seks had met een 13-jarige leerling.
[It's about a thirty seven year old school teacher in Idaho, Ashley Jo Beach, who had a torrid affair that lasted several months with a 13 year-old student - they sent each other nude pictures of themselves via cellphone in addition to banging up a storm.]
SEX CRIME
The key fact of the matter is that she molested a minor, and one who was her responsibility, nota bene. Irrespective of gender, that must be considered abuse of power and authority, in addition to child-rape.
It is quite clear-cut.
Of course, the Dutch, who know all there is to know about sexual abuse, do not see it that way. Well over half of the 155 comments underneath the article praise the woman and damn the country that sentenced her for raping a child - which in the eyes of over half of the commenters is only a minor matter, scarce deserving any punishment at all.
The United States, in their words, is a frightful puritan hell hole, and responsible for ninety percent of all misery in the world today.
We are the armpit of the planet, and pustulence personified.
And they feel good about saying that.
Many of the commenters feel that any punishment of the teacher for having an affair with a student is utterly ridiculous, and the severity of the punishment is beyond all reason.
Apparently it betrays our hypocrisy and a demented value system, we're a disgusting and appalling nation of pornographers and violent criminals, totally backward, unadvanced, retrograde, and uncivilized.
A fair number of the writers also laud the woman, and consider her a hero - both praiseworthy and commendable.
I have in the past rather indicated my feelings about the Dutch and their sexual predilections.......
[This post:
http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2009/11/keep-europeans-especially-dutch-out.html
in which I damn them all as sexual degenerates and perverts of the worst order.
And this post:
http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2008/11/joran-van-der-sloot-and-women-flesh.html
where I take issue with Dutch attitudes towards American teenagers.
This post discusses European attitudes towards the sexual exploitation of women in general: http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2009/03/european-sexual-degeneracy.html
and mentions sexual slavery in the Netherlands in particular.]
ON THE OTHER HAND
But the bright side is that NOT ALL COMMENTERS underneath the article in De Telegraaf condemn us; several of the readers understand that a teacher abusing a position of power and authority is reprehensible. They also grasp that a mere slap on the wrist combined with community service, such as is common in the Netherlands for indecent acts with a minor, do not even begin to address the issue. Many even observed that the gender of the victim and the gender of the perpetrator are immaterial - if it should not happen to a thirteen year old girl, it should also not be done to a thirteen year old boy.
So while I would recommend not allowing any Europeans, especially the Dutch, anywhere near your children, I am pleased to report that they are not all utter degenerates. Not all of them.
There is an intelligent and civilized minority that has to put up with their countrymen and maintain their reason despite such dysfunctional neighbors.
That they manage to do so at all is commendable, that many of them do it so well is miraculous.
[There is even a Dutch website, Stop Kinderporno Nu (http://www.stopkinderpornonu.com/) which combats paedophilia and struggles to bring child-molestors to justice. What makes their task much more difficult than it should be is the incredibly light sentencing customary in the Netherlands for sex-crimes, even violent ones and repeat-offenses. A few weeks community service, or a talk with a social worker, are quite common. Gang rape usually means counseling for the perpetrators. Most sex-crimes in the Netherlands go unpursued, unprosecuted, and unpunished.]
If you are a young woman, it is probably not advisable to visit the Netherlands until they have changed their sexual dialectic. Or if you do, avoid drinking in bars at the very least, in order to avoid date-rape drugs.
But the same can be said for much of Europe, as well as parts of England, Mississippi, Georgia, and the third world.
Showing posts with label Baffelyk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Baffelyk. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
THE REALITY CHALLENGED FRINGE©
Years ago when you got into a discussion with strangers, there was always a chance that the conversation would head off into deep-space. Perhaps they believed in Masonic conspiracies or were convinced that cucumbers cured cancer.
But there were always certain subtle verbal warning signs that you ignored at your peril, ere you got to the glaring eyes and completely illogical assertions. Astute listeners would seek a graceful way out long before being accused of treason, lying, or space-alien loyalties.
Here in San Francisco, the subtle warning signs included chattiness, eye-contact, friendly sincerity.
So then, answer all questions with a grunt, roll your pupils, and insistently talk about meat and idols to religious types. That, plus several disconcerting nervous tics and much scratching, are guaranteed to keep you out of trouble.
Which explains why it often seems like SF has more disturbed people than anywhere else - We're just acting this way to avoid talking with you. Okay?
Alas, the Reality Challenged Fringe (R.C.F.) have discovered computers, and acquired e-mail. They have modernized.
ELVIS IS ALIVE AND WELL ON THE INTERNET
I mention this, because on one mailing list the discussion keeps returning to the assertion that Obama is a Muslim Communist born in Kenya, put in power by a vast evil conspiracy of ultra-left wing Democrats and Capitalists, with the connivance of most of the Democratic National Committee, the top ranks of the Republican Party, all of the mainstream media (dominated by ultra libs, including Fox), thousand of foreign conspirators, AND a network of traitors and liars put in place years ago in the Federal and State bureaucracies for this specific task.
[Plus, this Obama isn't the real Obama but a convincing simulacrum kept alive by electronic brainwaves.]
The argumentation of the cultists who believe this stuff consists of denying any and all evidence to the contrary, followed by demands to see Obama's birth certificate, 'why won't he show his birth certificate what does he have to hide he's hiding something or else he'd show us his birth certificate that isn't his birth certificate - we want to see the form signed by doctors and spattered with bloodspots from the wild animal sacrifice! It's green and Kenyato-Indonesian for a mooslim I know this waggah waggah!'
Then comes the suggestion that anyone who insists that Obama is validly president must be doing so for traitorous motives and we'll deal with them once the truth comes out.
To give the rest of us all a last chance to see the light, they keep forwarding links to World Net Daily, Obama Crimes (the vendetta website of Hillary loyalist Philip J. Berg, Esquire), and the Washington Times (the rev. Moon's propaganda rag).
Any further counter-arguments are met with repeats of sneering denial, more demands for the long form plus treason accusations, and yet more links to World Net Daily, Berg, and the Moonies.
Now I know why this is happening.
See, years ago, most of us successfully switched from Neviim 2.02 to MSRevelation. This meant that we also changed our spreadsheet programmes, graphic interfaces, and our e-mail. It was in many ways a monumental improvement, our lives sped up, and our functionality increased.
We no longer see the error messages from the bowels of the machine.
Consequently, we're not getting the memos. Anymore.
But they are. Still.
I just wish that they'd get on board the space ship already.
Go on, little birdies, fly away now. Be free. Be free.
Say hi to Elvis for us.
Meat. Idols. Meat. Idols. Boo!
Boo again.
But there were always certain subtle verbal warning signs that you ignored at your peril, ere you got to the glaring eyes and completely illogical assertions. Astute listeners would seek a graceful way out long before being accused of treason, lying, or space-alien loyalties.
Here in San Francisco, the subtle warning signs included chattiness, eye-contact, friendly sincerity.
So then, answer all questions with a grunt, roll your pupils, and insistently talk about meat and idols to religious types. That, plus several disconcerting nervous tics and much scratching, are guaranteed to keep you out of trouble.
Which explains why it often seems like SF has more disturbed people than anywhere else - We're just acting this way to avoid talking with you. Okay?
Alas, the Reality Challenged Fringe (R.C.F.) have discovered computers, and acquired e-mail. They have modernized.
ELVIS IS ALIVE AND WELL ON THE INTERNET
I mention this, because on one mailing list the discussion keeps returning to the assertion that Obama is a Muslim Communist born in Kenya, put in power by a vast evil conspiracy of ultra-left wing Democrats and Capitalists, with the connivance of most of the Democratic National Committee, the top ranks of the Republican Party, all of the mainstream media (dominated by ultra libs, including Fox), thousand of foreign conspirators, AND a network of traitors and liars put in place years ago in the Federal and State bureaucracies for this specific task.
[Plus, this Obama isn't the real Obama but a convincing simulacrum kept alive by electronic brainwaves.]
The argumentation of the cultists who believe this stuff consists of denying any and all evidence to the contrary, followed by demands to see Obama's birth certificate, 'why won't he show his birth certificate what does he have to hide he's hiding something or else he'd show us his birth certificate that isn't his birth certificate - we want to see the form signed by doctors and spattered with bloodspots from the wild animal sacrifice! It's green and Kenyato-Indonesian for a mooslim I know this waggah waggah!'
Then comes the suggestion that anyone who insists that Obama is validly president must be doing so for traitorous motives and we'll deal with them once the truth comes out.
To give the rest of us all a last chance to see the light, they keep forwarding links to World Net Daily, Obama Crimes (the vendetta website of Hillary loyalist Philip J. Berg, Esquire), and the Washington Times (the rev. Moon's propaganda rag).
Any further counter-arguments are met with repeats of sneering denial, more demands for the long form plus treason accusations, and yet more links to World Net Daily, Berg, and the Moonies.
Now I know why this is happening.
See, years ago, most of us successfully switched from Neviim 2.02 to MSRevelation. This meant that we also changed our spreadsheet programmes, graphic interfaces, and our e-mail. It was in many ways a monumental improvement, our lives sped up, and our functionality increased.
We no longer see the error messages from the bowels of the machine.
Consequently, we're not getting the memos. Anymore.
But they are. Still.
I just wish that they'd get on board the space ship already.
Go on, little birdies, fly away now. Be free. Be free.
Say hi to Elvis for us.
Meat. Idols. Meat. Idols. Boo!
Boo again.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
INVENTORY OF WORK SPACE
The items that one surrounds oneself with say a lot about a person. Especially the things in the place where one spends the majority of one's waking hours - the office. Personal effects are often a louder statement than any curriculum vitae.
Follows a list of "decorative items" in my cubicle.
Eight Israeli flags.
Three American flags.
One "destroy Hezbollah" sign.
Seven assorted other protest signs.
A dancing robotic Woman in Black.
Six month supply of pipe tobacco.
Dolls: daemon, joker, frog, evil mouse.
Plush: mostly rodents.
Plastic animals: rabbit, lizard, dinosaur.
Three realistic heads, one of which is a mutant alien baby.
A knit kippah (blues and greens).
Framed Smicha (Yeshiva Chipas Emess).
Three Chabad baseball caps.
Three paintings (one of which represents Nick Berg and three Islamic militants).
Over a dozen "test tube babies", one of which is large and adrift in yellow liquid.
Two dozen books, of which half a dozen are linguistic reference.
Eight umbrellas.
Nearly three hundred empty cigarillo tins (brand: Panter).
A stuffed armadillo (real, dead, rotund).
And a cheerful Totoro, who encourages me with his dazzling smile.
[He is sitting on the Nederlands Etymologisch Woordenboek, by Jan de Vries (fourth edition, published by Koninklijke Brill in Leiden in 1997).]
The children of coworkers avoid my area when they visit the company. It is very wise of them to do so, even though I no longer bite. My cubicle is a cacophony.
Follows a list of "decorative items" in my cubicle.
Eight Israeli flags.
Three American flags.
One "destroy Hezbollah" sign.
Seven assorted other protest signs.
A dancing robotic Woman in Black.
Six month supply of pipe tobacco.
Dolls: daemon, joker, frog, evil mouse.
Plush: mostly rodents.
Plastic animals: rabbit, lizard, dinosaur.
Three realistic heads, one of which is a mutant alien baby.
A knit kippah (blues and greens).
Framed Smicha (Yeshiva Chipas Emess).
Three Chabad baseball caps.
Three paintings (one of which represents Nick Berg and three Islamic militants).
Over a dozen "test tube babies", one of which is large and adrift in yellow liquid.
Two dozen books, of which half a dozen are linguistic reference.
Eight umbrellas.
Nearly three hundred empty cigarillo tins (brand: Panter).
A stuffed armadillo (real, dead, rotund).
And a cheerful Totoro, who encourages me with his dazzling smile.
[He is sitting on the Nederlands Etymologisch Woordenboek, by Jan de Vries (fourth edition, published by Koninklijke Brill in Leiden in 1997).]
The children of coworkers avoid my area when they visit the company. It is very wise of them to do so, even though I no longer bite. My cubicle is a cacophony.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
I AM AN ANTI-SEMITE
That is what a correspondent firmly believes. She is serious, and horribly offended. Decent people should avoid me, and you might want to hang garlic on your monitor before reading any further.
In addition to being an anti-Semite, I would also like to propose that I am a strikingly beautiful black woman with high pert breasts. Might as well go for the complete makeover, don't you agree?
I wrote:
I am capable of believing that voodoo, Catholicism, several forms of Christianity, and many aspects of Orthodox practice are wrong. That several million people believe something does not mean we have to praise and accept that belief as valid. Especially as regards religion one can agree to disagree. Or demand to disagree.
This generated a howl of outrage.
I wrote:
I did not attack Judaism.
I do not accept all of orthodox praxis as valid.
Orthodox Judaism is not all of Judaism. Nor is all of orthodox Judaism actually orthodox Judaism.
Now the other person started jumping up and down and foaming at the mouth, as I could tell from hundreds of miles away. Furious scribbling ensued.
I wrote:
I fail to see how it could possibly be offensive.
Unless you consider all versions of orthodoxy, from the several variants of hareidi all the way through modern orthodox, to be identical. In which case the ultra-orthodox refusal to accept smicha from certain rabbinical schools becomes ridiculous.
Of course, the Conservative movement might also have an issue with the sneering non-acceptance of their accreditation by the ultra-orthodox.
But that begs the question - can Satmar validly be offended by Chabad? To the point that they refuse to accept the opinions of anyone associated with Chabad, or deny their kashrus certification? Those who are easily offended, will be offended.
For that matter, I would more likely accept the graduate of Yeshiva Chovevei Torah as normative in his rabbinical lomdus, than let us say, a rabbi from Beis Medrash Gohova, Belz, or even the Chabad milieu.
To the degree that I do not accept them as normative, they may be offended. More than likely, it would not matter one whit to them.
Again, I fail to see where the offense lies.
Further to the offense, I would offer the following representative sampling of elements of orthodox Judaism which are utter balderdash: Segulos, Kabbalah, Dybbuks, Sheidim, Klipos, and Gematria.
You will find that though these things are all well within orthodox belief, they are by no means universally accepted. They represent a strain of superstition rife with borrowings from heathendom and folk-beliefs. Avodah zara, more or less. Torah codes are also in that category, and quite as ridiculous.
A careful reading of the sources will show that many authorities in the past were adamantly opposed to such nonsense. Such people as the Rambam, Ibn Ezra, even the Ramchal.......
At this point, she accused me of dam-near hating Jews and Judaism.
So yes, dear readers, I am an anti-Semite.
BLACK AND FULLY BREASTED
I am also a tall and incredibly stunning black woman with lovely gazongas. Tribal jewelry suits me very well, and I wear bold colours with grace and ease.
Deeply plunging v-necks show off my lovely attributes nicely, by the way.
I have not yet decided whether I am a straight black woman, or a raging Lesbienne, nor, if the latter is the case, if I like cute little blondes or prefer chubby brunettes. But whatever I am, I have no fetiches, and a broad spectrum of tastes. A whole new world of exciting choices has opened up, and it may take me a while to choose all my predilections.
Please send me your suggestions - I need help deciding.
In the meantime, I remain, affectionately, ROTFLMAO.
-----B.O.T.H.
In addition to being an anti-Semite, I would also like to propose that I am a strikingly beautiful black woman with high pert breasts. Might as well go for the complete makeover, don't you agree?
I wrote:
I am capable of believing that voodoo, Catholicism, several forms of Christianity, and many aspects of Orthodox practice are wrong. That several million people believe something does not mean we have to praise and accept that belief as valid. Especially as regards religion one can agree to disagree. Or demand to disagree.
This generated a howl of outrage.
I wrote:
I did not attack Judaism.
I do not accept all of orthodox praxis as valid.
Orthodox Judaism is not all of Judaism. Nor is all of orthodox Judaism actually orthodox Judaism.
Now the other person started jumping up and down and foaming at the mouth, as I could tell from hundreds of miles away. Furious scribbling ensued.
I wrote:
I fail to see how it could possibly be offensive.
Unless you consider all versions of orthodoxy, from the several variants of hareidi all the way through modern orthodox, to be identical. In which case the ultra-orthodox refusal to accept smicha from certain rabbinical schools becomes ridiculous.
Of course, the Conservative movement might also have an issue with the sneering non-acceptance of their accreditation by the ultra-orthodox.
But that begs the question - can Satmar validly be offended by Chabad? To the point that they refuse to accept the opinions of anyone associated with Chabad, or deny their kashrus certification? Those who are easily offended, will be offended.
For that matter, I would more likely accept the graduate of Yeshiva Chovevei Torah as normative in his rabbinical lomdus, than let us say, a rabbi from Beis Medrash Gohova, Belz, or even the Chabad milieu.
To the degree that I do not accept them as normative, they may be offended. More than likely, it would not matter one whit to them.
Again, I fail to see where the offense lies.
Further to the offense, I would offer the following representative sampling of elements of orthodox Judaism which are utter balderdash: Segulos, Kabbalah, Dybbuks, Sheidim, Klipos, and Gematria.
You will find that though these things are all well within orthodox belief, they are by no means universally accepted. They represent a strain of superstition rife with borrowings from heathendom and folk-beliefs. Avodah zara, more or less. Torah codes are also in that category, and quite as ridiculous.
A careful reading of the sources will show that many authorities in the past were adamantly opposed to such nonsense. Such people as the Rambam, Ibn Ezra, even the Ramchal.......
At this point, she accused me of dam-near hating Jews and Judaism.
So yes, dear readers, I am an anti-Semite.
BLACK AND FULLY BREASTED
I am also a tall and incredibly stunning black woman with lovely gazongas. Tribal jewelry suits me very well, and I wear bold colours with grace and ease.
Deeply plunging v-necks show off my lovely attributes nicely, by the way.
I have not yet decided whether I am a straight black woman, or a raging Lesbienne, nor, if the latter is the case, if I like cute little blondes or prefer chubby brunettes. But whatever I am, I have no fetiches, and a broad spectrum of tastes. A whole new world of exciting choices has opened up, and it may take me a while to choose all my predilections.
Please send me your suggestions - I need help deciding.
In the meantime, I remain, affectionately, ROTFLMAO.
-----B.O.T.H.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
TORQUEMADIC NARISHKEIT
Please note this post on Dovbear's blog, in reference to this post on Jacob Stein's blog.
Dovbear is on my blogroll. It is unlikely that Jacob Stein will ever be there.
-------------------------------------------------
Jacob Stein: Secret Orthodox Atheists and How to Catch Them
http://jewishphilosopher.blogspot.com/2008/10/secret-orthodox-atheists-and-how-to.html
Dovbear: Jewish Philosopher: Soft on Atheists?
http://dovbear.blogspot.com/2008/10/jewish-philosopher-dangerous.html]
-------------------------------------------------
Not all orthodox Jews are orthodox Jews.
Not all gilgulim of grand inquisitors are Catholic.
There are these four sons, one of whom is wise, one wicked, one simple, and one sheino yodeah lishol......
An atheist is not a rasha, much more likely one of the latter two.
Or, on the other hand, either a myrtle branch or a willow branch. Few people are entirely etrogish.
Dovbear is on my blogroll. It is unlikely that Jacob Stein will ever be there.
-------------------------------------------------
Jacob Stein: Secret Orthodox Atheists and How to Catch Them
http://jewishphilosopher.blogspot.com/2008/10/secret-orthodox-atheists-and-how-to.html
Dovbear: Jewish Philosopher: Soft on Atheists?
http://dovbear.blogspot.com/2008/10/jewish-philosopher-dangerous.html]
-------------------------------------------------
Not all orthodox Jews are orthodox Jews.
Not all gilgulim of grand inquisitors are Catholic.
There are these four sons, one of whom is wise, one wicked, one simple, and one sheino yodeah lishol......
An atheist is not a rasha, much more likely one of the latter two.
Or, on the other hand, either a myrtle branch or a willow branch. Few people are entirely etrogish.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
SUPERSTITIOUS NONSENSE
Dovbear mentions daemons in connection with Halloween. Apparently a lot of people at his shul are convinced that such beings actually exist, and that they are a threat.......
[See this post: http://dovbear.blogspot.com/2008/10/in-honor-of-halloween.html ]
Pursuant which, Dov links to an article here about home renovations and daemons by Rav Ari Enkin. Es hot ein gevaldikke Feng-Shui taam. Echt, und be emmes.
Don't move your stove. Do not place furniture where your wall should be, open windows for the dying, and don't tell anyone that you can see dead people (that last bit is sound advice).
Pardon me for saying hoo ha.
JS posted a lovely comment underneath Dov's post:There are some opinions that hold demons and spirits roam the Internet and that website owners and bloggers must be very careful when they redesign their website to keep all links between pages intact lest a demon or spirit get trapped or lost as they roam around their God-given path on the Internet.
Sometimes people who are especially attuned to these things can feel these demons or spirits, they usually manifest as a sudden burst of rage at reading another person's comments.
How. Dry.
Heh. ;-D
Many of the other readers seemed similarly sceptical. Dovbear himself considers the entire thing laughable lunacy.
I, however, am not so sure............
Some of Dov's readers are clearly possessed.
In fact, Ira urged Esther not to reveal her true incarnation - and as he normally agrees completely with her, I must assume that he believes that she is indeed a supernatural entity, and that may mean that he is one as well............
[See this post: http://dovbear.blogspot.com/2008/10/in-honor-of-halloween.html ]
Pursuant which, Dov links to an article here about home renovations and daemons by Rav Ari Enkin. Es hot ein gevaldikke Feng-Shui taam. Echt, und be emmes.
Don't move your stove. Do not place furniture where your wall should be, open windows for the dying, and don't tell anyone that you can see dead people (that last bit is sound advice).
Pardon me for saying hoo ha.
JS posted a lovely comment underneath Dov's post:There are some opinions that hold demons and spirits roam the Internet and that website owners and bloggers must be very careful when they redesign their website to keep all links between pages intact lest a demon or spirit get trapped or lost as they roam around their God-given path on the Internet.
Sometimes people who are especially attuned to these things can feel these demons or spirits, they usually manifest as a sudden burst of rage at reading another person's comments.
How. Dry.
Heh. ;-D
Many of the other readers seemed similarly sceptical. Dovbear himself considers the entire thing laughable lunacy.
I, however, am not so sure............
Some of Dov's readers are clearly possessed.
In fact, Ira urged Esther not to reveal her true incarnation - and as he normally agrees completely with her, I must assume that he believes that she is indeed a supernatural entity, and that may mean that he is one as well............
Monday, October 27, 2008
CANNED BLAND
In a comment string on Dovbear's blog, I sneered that the last truly great president was a Dutch-American, and that everything since then has been purely mediocre Anglos, and mediocre Anglo wannabees.
I also said that I'm not voting for McCain, as I don't want another mediocre Anglo wannabe; I'm voting for the intelligent candidate.
It very soon became apparent that some readers did not grasp that the term Anglo has nothing to do with English / Anglo-Saxon / Anglican. One of them even offered that McCain was perhaps Scotch-Irish.
No offense to the Scotch-Irish, who are all mighty fine people why even some of my BEST friends are Scotch-Irish.....,
That's the very quintessence of second-rate Anglo. The bargain brand of Anglo. On par with Rednecks, Texans, and Fratboys.
Then somebody else wrote: "Eisenhower had German ancestry; Kennedy was Irish; Reagan was part Irish."
Oh pooh.
Anglo is a cultural category. If you want to be ethno-specific, and more racist, you can use the term WASP. Or even 'Anglo-Saxon'.
Eisenhower, Kennedy, and Reagan were one hundred and twenty percent Anglo (the extra percentage points are because they had to try harder).
All three of them were, culturally speaking, about as Anglo as you can get in this country. Solid white bread, English-speaking, and adhering to the Anglo (i.e. dominant American) value system.
Whoever goes into the meltingpot has the right to come out white.
Just look at Condoleeza.
Jeez, haven't you folks ever heard of assimilation?!?
Yeah, I know most of y'all live in New York, and are culturally Puerto Rican......
But out there in the rest of this country, in the "real America", popular culture has demotized to the great anglo-whitebread commonality - Round Table Pizza: a fake Italian dough disc made palatable to the majority by adding canned bland tomato sauce, ham, and pineapple, constructed in an Arthurian metaphor-environment by generic teenagers, mostly monolingual in 'Mall Speak', whose reading skills extend little further than insta-message.
Much like their parents, who are also as well-adjusted.
Once you've got the phrase "whazzup dude" in your mental framework, you're in Anglo-town. No biggie.
Discuss among yourselves, homies, I'm hellah farklempt.
I also said that I'm not voting for McCain, as I don't want another mediocre Anglo wannabe; I'm voting for the intelligent candidate.
It very soon became apparent that some readers did not grasp that the term Anglo has nothing to do with English / Anglo-Saxon / Anglican. One of them even offered that McCain was perhaps Scotch-Irish.
No offense to the Scotch-Irish, who are all mighty fine people why even some of my BEST friends are Scotch-Irish.....,
That's the very quintessence of second-rate Anglo. The bargain brand of Anglo. On par with Rednecks, Texans, and Fratboys.
Then somebody else wrote: "Eisenhower had German ancestry; Kennedy was Irish; Reagan was part Irish."
Oh pooh.
Anglo is a cultural category. If you want to be ethno-specific, and more racist, you can use the term WASP. Or even 'Anglo-Saxon'.
Eisenhower, Kennedy, and Reagan were one hundred and twenty percent Anglo (the extra percentage points are because they had to try harder).
All three of them were, culturally speaking, about as Anglo as you can get in this country. Solid white bread, English-speaking, and adhering to the Anglo (i.e. dominant American) value system.
Whoever goes into the meltingpot has the right to come out white.
Just look at Condoleeza.
Jeez, haven't you folks ever heard of assimilation?!?
Yeah, I know most of y'all live in New York, and are culturally Puerto Rican......
But out there in the rest of this country, in the "real America", popular culture has demotized to the great anglo-whitebread commonality - Round Table Pizza: a fake Italian dough disc made palatable to the majority by adding canned bland tomato sauce, ham, and pineapple, constructed in an Arthurian metaphor-environment by generic teenagers, mostly monolingual in 'Mall Speak', whose reading skills extend little further than insta-message.
Much like their parents, who are also as well-adjusted.
Once you've got the phrase "whazzup dude" in your mental framework, you're in Anglo-town. No biggie.
Discuss among yourselves, homies, I'm hellah farklempt.
Monday, October 06, 2008
FIGHTING FAX WITH FAX
Two weeks ago a young lady left a message in my voicemailbox, as she had done several times before. She needed me to do something for her, to satisfy a certain requirement, to provide her with......
Wipe that silly grin off your face, that wasn't what she wanted. She needed me to fax her a W-9.
[The W-9 is a form that provides a company's tax identification number and has checkboxes for the kind of entity which the company claims to be. It must be signed by a U.S. citizen or other U.S. person. The W-9 is formally known as 'Request for Taxpayer Identification Number and Certification'.]
The young lady in question had already faxed over a blank form to be filled-out at our end.
Fifteen times.
We had faxed her a completed form.
Fourteen times.
Her several frantic messages insisted that we fill out her form, not just send her the one we keep ready for just such occassions. Her form. Not any other. Hers. Hers only, only hers. Why would we not fill out her form? Why did we keep sending our form? She needed hers! Did we not understand? Hers, hers, hers!
Half-way through this two-week fax-fest I noticed what made her form different. Hers was the October 2007 revision - we were using the November 2005 revision.
The 2007 revision has added the following text UNDERNEATH the fill-out and sign part of the form: "General Instruction - Section references are to the Internal Revenue Code unless otherwise noted".
That's it. That is the only difference. Thirteen extra words in a non-legally-relevant blurble section of the form. The layout remains the same, and all of the other text is the same. The font is the same. The fields to fill out remain the same: name of entity, address, status, tax id, and signature by a U.S. citizen or other U.S. person.
She already had the information she needed, in the format in which it was required, with a signature by a U.S. citizen or other U.S. person certifying that the information was correct.
Either version of the form is valid once signed by a U.S. citizen or other U.S. person - whence this banal anality?
So I called her, to explain the sameness and find out why she was being nuts. As such insistence clearly proved her to be. Red-tape vampire hag-bitch from the bottom rung of the brimstone bureaucracy. Neurotic, bonkers, twisted. Daemonic braindead nerdette. Possibly a half-wit, more likely simply a badly trained clerical gibbon given too much freedom. A pencil-pusher without the capacity for independent thought. Severly ineffective.
She understood why I called. And gently explained that it was her corporate masters that insisted on the October 2007 revision, and refused to accept the information if it was proffered on an earlier version of the form (such as the November 2005 revision). She had no choice or stake in the matter. Corporate HQ demanded absolute uniformity.
In addition to my other qualities I am a U.S. citizen or other U.S. person, so I have filled-out and faxed her the October 2007 revision.
It is now hanging on my cubicle wall as a reminder of my capitulation.
Wipe that silly grin off your face, that wasn't what she wanted. She needed me to fax her a W-9.
[The W-9 is a form that provides a company's tax identification number and has checkboxes for the kind of entity which the company claims to be. It must be signed by a U.S. citizen or other U.S. person. The W-9 is formally known as 'Request for Taxpayer Identification Number and Certification'.]
The young lady in question had already faxed over a blank form to be filled-out at our end.
Fifteen times.
We had faxed her a completed form.
Fourteen times.
Her several frantic messages insisted that we fill out her form, not just send her the one we keep ready for just such occassions. Her form. Not any other. Hers. Hers only, only hers. Why would we not fill out her form? Why did we keep sending our form? She needed hers! Did we not understand? Hers, hers, hers!
Half-way through this two-week fax-fest I noticed what made her form different. Hers was the October 2007 revision - we were using the November 2005 revision.
The 2007 revision has added the following text UNDERNEATH the fill-out and sign part of the form: "General Instruction - Section references are to the Internal Revenue Code unless otherwise noted".
That's it. That is the only difference. Thirteen extra words in a non-legally-relevant blurble section of the form. The layout remains the same, and all of the other text is the same. The font is the same. The fields to fill out remain the same: name of entity, address, status, tax id, and signature by a U.S. citizen or other U.S. person.
She already had the information she needed, in the format in which it was required, with a signature by a U.S. citizen or other U.S. person certifying that the information was correct.
Either version of the form is valid once signed by a U.S. citizen or other U.S. person - whence this banal anality?
So I called her, to explain the sameness and find out why she was being nuts. As such insistence clearly proved her to be. Red-tape vampire hag-bitch from the bottom rung of the brimstone bureaucracy. Neurotic, bonkers, twisted. Daemonic braindead nerdette. Possibly a half-wit, more likely simply a badly trained clerical gibbon given too much freedom. A pencil-pusher without the capacity for independent thought. Severly ineffective.
She understood why I called. And gently explained that it was her corporate masters that insisted on the October 2007 revision, and refused to accept the information if it was proffered on an earlier version of the form (such as the November 2005 revision). She had no choice or stake in the matter. Corporate HQ demanded absolute uniformity.
In addition to my other qualities I am a U.S. citizen or other U.S. person, so I have filled-out and faxed her the October 2007 revision.
It is now hanging on my cubicle wall as a reminder of my capitulation.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
EIGHTEEN CIGAR MITZVA
Reb Reicher in New York recently queried me regarding chassidim who "inhale eighteen cigars on yom kippur". At first I was baffled, but then I realized that I am the logical person to ask such things.
What other blog combines tobacco, a dimsummish modicum of Talmud-Torah, and chassidic genealogy?
[Plus penguins, panties, wombat curry, and plotshikke bibber peltzen?]
Besides, I know the Rabam personally. The Rabam, as is well-known, is the descendant of both the Ba'al Ha Turetz AND the Rebbe of Prolicz - both sources of riezige lomdus on this very subject!
My correspondent writes:
All I have is the phrase "Chassidim who inhale eighteen cigars on Yom Kippur". Who are they, which shtroim of chassidus, why precisely do they do that, and what cigars do they prefer? Especially that last datum - is their roichende minhog Honduran, Nicaraguan, or European dry-cured? Long filler, Sumatran wrapper, or Connecticut shade-grown? These are important considerata.
Well, my dear Talmid, it's a special minyen by the rebbe of Tzeger. There's no break on Yom Kippur, they just davven the shtille shimonesro, and then they smoke throughout the entire chazoras ha-shatz of each of the four tefillos of the daytime.
Why eighteen cigars?
Eighteen cigars plus a small cherus (the so-called 'cheruth katan') because there are nineteen benedictions. Rather than changing the name or the symbolism, one accounts for the addition by a different item in the same category - the analogy is with four tins of GLPease tobacco on Peip Sach plus one tin of Cornell & Diehl for Eliyahu Ha-Huma.
The eighteen are life (chai), the cherus represents the minim. The cheroot is optional, though some hold that it is obligatory, because every day we thank our maker for cherus.
According to HaRav BenTzion Halberkrona, the Rebbe of Tzeger explained: "There is a Medrash which says that Eliyahu Ha-Huma was punished for complaining that his people were lax in performing the bendikzions, by being made to be present at every benediction in the future. Hence the "Cigar of Eliyahu". I could never understand how being present at such a holy ceremony could be punishment, but now I see why it is sometimes a matter of great annoyance to be present at some of the functions of our faith - the kavana of eighteen cigars is shverrer on the chest than any amount of beating."
But at Omblatt's, they would smoke eighteen señoritas (or bolknaks, during a shmitta year - the symbolism is lost, though it may have something to do with bolknaks being made from last year's compost heap). With a cup of black coffee for each. Because one should also taste the bitter during the great festivals (strictly murra). The symbolism of a señorita is that kabbalistically it acknowledges the feminine aspect of the divine - the shekinah, zigar anpin, or tiferes.
This per HaRav Kutchner, currently of Kehillos Ohevei Madonna.
[In the same shul of thought, the truly fervent would go north to Mokum Alef for simches toireh...... instead of jannevier (Genever - Dutch Gin), the current minhag is to get so blasted on spliv in a coffee shop that you cannot tell Hamansterdam from whateveritisnejad that you just forgot.]
The Tzegerer minhag is also a rejection of the profligacy of Ruzhin and the Kozhnitzer (to whom Napoleon gifted a precious snuff-box), namely ostentatiously dipping snuff on shabbes or the high holy days, but only on week days smoking fine cigars through amber holders. In recent decades it has become harder to do so, due to the enormous increase in price of stogies - up to six hundred dollars for a box of twenty five handrolled Coronas from a reputable maker (supervised le mehadrin min hamehadrin min hamehadin min hamahadda dadda da).
The correct custom when offering a cigar is to open the box and allow the receiver to take one rather than handing the cigar to someone directly. It is also customary to light cigars for others, especially for women.
The Rebbe's nephew, Shalom Ber Tzigary, writes: "... while the Rebbe walked around Berlin in a beret and a well-tailored suit, his lomdishe brother wore a pair of slacks with his shirt out and his tzitzis showing. While my uncle's hair was short, Leibel's was long and wild, with luxurious peyes. However, it was clear that they really cared for each other. I remember that both of them were physically very strong, and would challenge each other by locking their arms on one another's shoulders and "wrestling" for long periods."
[Reb Leibel Tzigary emigrated to Palestine in 1933 -- his T.A. shtiebl on Nachalos Binyamin was a disorganized mess, with no regular hours, though it was always open on Shabbat; he would strut in front of the grand Kozhinitzer Shul up the block with his Shabbat cigar in hand.]
Reb Leibel is buried with his wife in Sfat. His spouse was employed, after his death, as a religious teacher in Mercaz L'inyonei Cherut in London.
For a full minyan one needs eight boxes of coronas (or thirteen boxes of half-coronas), and one box of señoritas - the excess is traditionally given to the poor, or to your no-good son-in-law's father (pretty much the same thing, really).
The boxes must be cedar, as is written: "imchoma hi nivne aleyha tirat kasef, v'imdelet hi natsur aleyha luach arez".
One time the Baal Ha Turetz was gifted with eighteen fine herring. But he did not eat them, because of the verse "ach basar bechiyo'msterdamo, lo tochelu". That day he breakfasted on Genever (Jannevier, also known in Mokum Alef as jajem (yayim)).
Jannevier is as mayim chayim, but also intense menucha, because HE accompanies one beside still waters, whether pot or patent (Tehillim, mizmor kaf gimmel - p.23:2).
Smoking is a baroicho.
There is no free-association; somebody always has to pay for it.
I think I need more coffee, sukar ziyada.
I hope this answers all of your questions about the eighteen cigars.
What other blog combines tobacco, a dimsummish modicum of Talmud-Torah, and chassidic genealogy?
[Plus penguins, panties, wombat curry, and plotshikke bibber peltzen?]
Besides, I know the Rabam personally. The Rabam, as is well-known, is the descendant of both the Ba'al Ha Turetz AND the Rebbe of Prolicz - both sources of riezige lomdus on this very subject!
My correspondent writes:
All I have is the phrase "Chassidim who inhale eighteen cigars on Yom Kippur". Who are they, which shtroim of chassidus, why precisely do they do that, and what cigars do they prefer? Especially that last datum - is their roichende minhog Honduran, Nicaraguan, or European dry-cured? Long filler, Sumatran wrapper, or Connecticut shade-grown? These are important considerata.
Well, my dear Talmid, it's a special minyen by the rebbe of Tzeger. There's no break on Yom Kippur, they just davven the shtille shimonesro, and then they smoke throughout the entire chazoras ha-shatz of each of the four tefillos of the daytime.
Why eighteen cigars?
Eighteen cigars plus a small cherus (the so-called 'cheruth katan') because there are nineteen benedictions. Rather than changing the name or the symbolism, one accounts for the addition by a different item in the same category - the analogy is with four tins of GLPease tobacco on Peip Sach plus one tin of Cornell & Diehl for Eliyahu Ha-Huma.
The eighteen are life (chai), the cherus represents the minim. The cheroot is optional, though some hold that it is obligatory, because every day we thank our maker for cherus.
According to HaRav BenTzion Halberkrona, the Rebbe of Tzeger explained: "There is a Medrash which says that Eliyahu Ha-Huma was punished for complaining that his people were lax in performing the bendikzions, by being made to be present at every benediction in the future. Hence the "Cigar of Eliyahu". I could never understand how being present at such a holy ceremony could be punishment, but now I see why it is sometimes a matter of great annoyance to be present at some of the functions of our faith - the kavana of eighteen cigars is shverrer on the chest than any amount of beating."
But at Omblatt's, they would smoke eighteen señoritas (or bolknaks, during a shmitta year - the symbolism is lost, though it may have something to do with bolknaks being made from last year's compost heap). With a cup of black coffee for each. Because one should also taste the bitter during the great festivals (strictly murra). The symbolism of a señorita is that kabbalistically it acknowledges the feminine aspect of the divine - the shekinah, zigar anpin, or tiferes.
This per HaRav Kutchner, currently of Kehillos Ohevei Madonna.
[In the same shul of thought, the truly fervent would go north to Mokum Alef for simches toireh...... instead of jannevier (Genever - Dutch Gin), the current minhag is to get so blasted on spliv in a coffee shop that you cannot tell Hamansterdam from whateveritisnejad that you just forgot.]
The Tzegerer minhag is also a rejection of the profligacy of Ruzhin and the Kozhnitzer (to whom Napoleon gifted a precious snuff-box), namely ostentatiously dipping snuff on shabbes or the high holy days, but only on week days smoking fine cigars through amber holders. In recent decades it has become harder to do so, due to the enormous increase in price of stogies - up to six hundred dollars for a box of twenty five handrolled Coronas from a reputable maker (supervised le mehadrin min hamehadrin min hamehadin min hamahadda dadda da).
The correct custom when offering a cigar is to open the box and allow the receiver to take one rather than handing the cigar to someone directly. It is also customary to light cigars for others, especially for women.
The Rebbe's nephew, Shalom Ber Tzigary, writes: "... while the Rebbe walked around Berlin in a beret and a well-tailored suit, his lomdishe brother wore a pair of slacks with his shirt out and his tzitzis showing. While my uncle's hair was short, Leibel's was long and wild, with luxurious peyes. However, it was clear that they really cared for each other. I remember that both of them were physically very strong, and would challenge each other by locking their arms on one another's shoulders and "wrestling" for long periods."
[Reb Leibel Tzigary emigrated to Palestine in 1933 -- his T.A. shtiebl on Nachalos Binyamin was a disorganized mess, with no regular hours, though it was always open on Shabbat; he would strut in front of the grand Kozhinitzer Shul up the block with his Shabbat cigar in hand.]
Reb Leibel is buried with his wife in Sfat. His spouse was employed, after his death, as a religious teacher in Mercaz L'inyonei Cherut in London.
For a full minyan one needs eight boxes of coronas (or thirteen boxes of half-coronas), and one box of señoritas - the excess is traditionally given to the poor, or to your no-good son-in-law's father (pretty much the same thing, really).
The boxes must be cedar, as is written: "imchoma hi nivne aleyha tirat kasef, v'imdelet hi natsur aleyha luach arez".
One time the Baal Ha Turetz was gifted with eighteen fine herring. But he did not eat them, because of the verse "ach basar bechiyo'msterdamo, lo tochelu". That day he breakfasted on Genever (Jannevier, also known in Mokum Alef as jajem (yayim)).
Jannevier is as mayim chayim, but also intense menucha, because HE accompanies one beside still waters, whether pot or patent (Tehillim, mizmor kaf gimmel - p.23:2).
Smoking is a baroicho.
There is no free-association; somebody always has to pay for it.
I think I need more coffee, sukar ziyada.
I hope this answers all of your questions about the eighteen cigars.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
SPIRALING INTO ANOTHER DIMENSION
A correspondent on the East-Coast wishes that I write something about Chassidim and their cigar-habits. A potential customer in the same neighborhood as the correspondent desires net thirty terms (N30). And a member of our sales department has told someone else that they can have net forty five (N45).
Sometimes it seems as if I am the only person actually left on the planet, and that everybody else has taken a vacation in fantasy-land.
To the cigar-chossid: Probably tomorrow. 'Siz a wichtige sach. Tzarich iyun.
To the potential customer: Why is your business located in a parking spot between the Red Hook recreation area and a vacant industrial lot out near the docks? And why did you list the precise location of Frankel's Shul as your home address? Are rabbis Wolvovsky and Levertov aware that you live in the basement of Kehillos Bnei Shlomo Zalman? Don't you think you should tell them already?
To the sales department: Stop smoking crack. If we haven't done business with someone in over three years, there is no reason to even think of net forty five (N45)! Please think in terms of prepay (PP). We have nothing on them. No up-to-date credit data. Zip-dash-diddly. Bupkes. And stop trying to kiss-up to those people. They don't really like you.
--- --- ---
All of these things explain, of course, why I do what I do. I love people. Particularly, I love their rich inner lives. I too have a rich inner life. But in comparison with some of our potential customers, and our sales department, my rich inner life is a mere shadow, a poor deficient beastie, a crippled and stunted little rich inner life. Their rich inner lives are the big mack daddies of inner lives. The gedolim of phantasmagoria.
Kol hakavod, y'all, I am jealous. Please do not wave your big inner lives around.
I think I need my blankie and my teddy bear now. And I just want to read a bit more about the Tzigarrer Chassidim - that looks comforting and non-threatening. Butterflies.
Sometimes it seems as if I am the only person actually left on the planet, and that everybody else has taken a vacation in fantasy-land.
To the cigar-chossid: Probably tomorrow. 'Siz a wichtige sach. Tzarich iyun.
To the potential customer: Why is your business located in a parking spot between the Red Hook recreation area and a vacant industrial lot out near the docks? And why did you list the precise location of Frankel's Shul as your home address? Are rabbis Wolvovsky and Levertov aware that you live in the basement of Kehillos Bnei Shlomo Zalman? Don't you think you should tell them already?
To the sales department: Stop smoking crack. If we haven't done business with someone in over three years, there is no reason to even think of net forty five (N45)! Please think in terms of prepay (PP). We have nothing on them. No up-to-date credit data. Zip-dash-diddly. Bupkes. And stop trying to kiss-up to those people. They don't really like you.
--- --- ---
All of these things explain, of course, why I do what I do. I love people. Particularly, I love their rich inner lives. I too have a rich inner life. But in comparison with some of our potential customers, and our sales department, my rich inner life is a mere shadow, a poor deficient beastie, a crippled and stunted little rich inner life. Their rich inner lives are the big mack daddies of inner lives. The gedolim of phantasmagoria.
Kol hakavod, y'all, I am jealous. Please do not wave your big inner lives around.
I think I need my blankie and my teddy bear now. And I just want to read a bit more about the Tzigarrer Chassidim - that looks comforting and non-threatening. Butterflies.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
TRADEMARKS
This isn't something that used to come up in conversation. In fact, I cannot remember anyone ever talking about it more than ten years ago. It just wasn't an issue.
TRAMP STAMPS
If you've lived in the Amazon basin for the last decade you might be unaware of the phenomenon, but a resident of a modern American city will have seen these almost everywhere. They are tattoos on the lower backs of young ladies of questionable judgment.
Why would anyone put a sunburst or a blooming rose right above the cleft dividing their buttocks? Tattoos in general baffle me, but tattoos that draw attention to the private parts are entirely loopy.
It isn't a question of modesty - several of the young ladies flashing their tattoos could never be accused of being modest in the first place.
Maybe it is a lack of self-confidence?
My dear, if that portion of your anatomy has any appealing qualities whatsoever, you need not even try to draw the eyes thither. Trust me.
If the portion is only average, the tattoo is gilding the lily, and otherwise it is twixt too much of a good thing and too much information in its overall effect. Commercial art for an unwanted services. Go away.
And, if the tattoo advertises your Christian Lesbianism, why on earth are you showing it to the world?
Please cover yourself.
I only think about these issues on warm days. Often the weather keeps most arse-crack tattoos covered.
When confronted with a tramp-stamp I avert my eyes - not so much a sense of propriety as a stubborn refusal to give a slut-butt the attention it arrogantly demands. I am under no obligation to take notice of some stranger's bad-clothing decisions, or of the fit of drunken insanity that made her and several of her sailor friends get permanent mementoes several years ago.
I shall look away.
Savage Kitten, on the other hand, could not help noticing the tramp-stamp in line at the store. Apparently the exposed upper cleavage of one person ahead of her was matched by the uncovered lower cleavage of another. The one with the plumbers-cleft had, in ornate lettering on her fatty lower back, the enscription "Precious Pisces".
If the young lady meant to suggest two sleek and lively fish, she failed. Savage Kitten described it as more like two big blubbery sea lions fighting for room on the dock. I believe Savage Kitten also used the words "felt like clawing my eyes out ". The experience has scarred her, and it may have given her nightmares. Ick poo. The horror, the horror, and oh, the humanity.
Society's permissiveness has gone too far. We need to bring back the sack dress.
Thank you.
TRAMP STAMPS
If you've lived in the Amazon basin for the last decade you might be unaware of the phenomenon, but a resident of a modern American city will have seen these almost everywhere. They are tattoos on the lower backs of young ladies of questionable judgment.
Why would anyone put a sunburst or a blooming rose right above the cleft dividing their buttocks? Tattoos in general baffle me, but tattoos that draw attention to the private parts are entirely loopy.
It isn't a question of modesty - several of the young ladies flashing their tattoos could never be accused of being modest in the first place.
Maybe it is a lack of self-confidence?
My dear, if that portion of your anatomy has any appealing qualities whatsoever, you need not even try to draw the eyes thither. Trust me.
If the portion is only average, the tattoo is gilding the lily, and otherwise it is twixt too much of a good thing and too much information in its overall effect. Commercial art for an unwanted services. Go away.
And, if the tattoo advertises your Christian Lesbianism, why on earth are you showing it to the world?
Please cover yourself.
I only think about these issues on warm days. Often the weather keeps most arse-crack tattoos covered.
When confronted with a tramp-stamp I avert my eyes - not so much a sense of propriety as a stubborn refusal to give a slut-butt the attention it arrogantly demands. I am under no obligation to take notice of some stranger's bad-clothing decisions, or of the fit of drunken insanity that made her and several of her sailor friends get permanent mementoes several years ago.
I shall look away.
Savage Kitten, on the other hand, could not help noticing the tramp-stamp in line at the store. Apparently the exposed upper cleavage of one person ahead of her was matched by the uncovered lower cleavage of another. The one with the plumbers-cleft had, in ornate lettering on her fatty lower back, the enscription "Precious Pisces".
If the young lady meant to suggest two sleek and lively fish, she failed. Savage Kitten described it as more like two big blubbery sea lions fighting for room on the dock. I believe Savage Kitten also used the words "felt like clawing my eyes out ". The experience has scarred her, and it may have given her nightmares. Ick poo. The horror, the horror, and oh, the humanity.
Society's permissiveness has gone too far. We need to bring back the sack dress.
Thank you.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
YOUR KINDLY BENEVOLENCE
An item on e-kvetcher's blog ('Search for Emmes') reminded me of some of the things that people offer to charities. Not that his posting had anything to do with charities. It has no conceivable connection with the subject of this post, except in my mind.
[What can I say? It's my mind, and I'll do with it what I like.]
As some of you know, Savage Kitten works at a charitable organization. Part of her job involves listening to people who call to donate. Savage Kitten is not really a people person - I need to mention that, so that you will understand how this part of her job affects her. She does not like people. She does not like people who have blinkers on their minds. She does not like people who do not get to the point, nor people who do not get the point. These, precisely, are the people who call up wishing to donate objects. It is unfortunate.
[Savage Kitten is my long-time companion, helpmeet, and better half. She is not a social creature. She has a keen head for math, an eye for detail, and a sharp sense of humour. But she is not a people person by any stretch of the imagination.]
What do people wish to donate?
They wish to donate mattresses ("it's only stained on ONE side!"), chairs ("one of the legs is a bit loose... well actually, it fell off"), computers ("I plugged it in and it still works!"), bookcases ("just needs new veneer"), refrigerators ("you have to pick it up right NOW!"), second hand coffins --- that was only one person with a coffin, but she really really wanted the charity to pick it up soon, because she was moving. It had barely been used.
Most charities do not have much storage space, do not have repair facilities, and do not have a dozen strong hairy men with trucks. Most charities are not geared towards helping you get rid of the stuff that you do not wish to pay someone to take down to the dump.
Charities like money.
Charities do not need six dented cans of ten-year old satin-finish sandpebble left over from your days as an apartment manager. Charities cannot use your old lawn mower, or the spare tire from a car you no longer own. Charities do not want five boxes of used clothing of doubtful cleanliness and nineteen sixties taste.
Charities do not take live animals (or dead ones). Golf clubs, lawn chairs, solvents? No thanks. Twelve boxes of nice wooly sweaters knitted by the retired ladies benevolent guild? Errm, no thank you so sorry.
Day-old cakes from Norma's Wedding Bakery? Used baby clothes? Pale green tuxedoes and purple ruffled shirts? No, no, no!
Please send money.
Yes, this is San Francisco - but no one really wants to touch your three dozen pairs of crotchless bluejeans.
If, on the other hand, you decide to sell a kidney and donate the proceeds, most charities will not blink an eye. Do so, and Savage Kitten will even send you a VERY NICE thank you card signed by the executive director, AND a plaque announcing that YOU (yes, you!) are a member of the Cavalcade of Angels™ (donors who have contributed over a thousand dollars).
Heck, sell two kidneys. Thank you! You are now an angel.
[What can I say? It's my mind, and I'll do with it what I like.]
As some of you know, Savage Kitten works at a charitable organization. Part of her job involves listening to people who call to donate. Savage Kitten is not really a people person - I need to mention that, so that you will understand how this part of her job affects her. She does not like people. She does not like people who have blinkers on their minds. She does not like people who do not get to the point, nor people who do not get the point. These, precisely, are the people who call up wishing to donate objects. It is unfortunate.
[Savage Kitten is my long-time companion, helpmeet, and better half. She is not a social creature. She has a keen head for math, an eye for detail, and a sharp sense of humour. But she is not a people person by any stretch of the imagination.]
What do people wish to donate?
They wish to donate mattresses ("it's only stained on ONE side!"), chairs ("one of the legs is a bit loose... well actually, it fell off"), computers ("I plugged it in and it still works!"), bookcases ("just needs new veneer"), refrigerators ("you have to pick it up right NOW!"), second hand coffins --- that was only one person with a coffin, but she really really wanted the charity to pick it up soon, because she was moving. It had barely been used.
Most charities do not have much storage space, do not have repair facilities, and do not have a dozen strong hairy men with trucks. Most charities are not geared towards helping you get rid of the stuff that you do not wish to pay someone to take down to the dump.
Charities like money.
Charities do not need six dented cans of ten-year old satin-finish sandpebble left over from your days as an apartment manager. Charities cannot use your old lawn mower, or the spare tire from a car you no longer own. Charities do not want five boxes of used clothing of doubtful cleanliness and nineteen sixties taste.
Charities do not take live animals (or dead ones). Golf clubs, lawn chairs, solvents? No thanks. Twelve boxes of nice wooly sweaters knitted by the retired ladies benevolent guild? Errm, no thank you so sorry.
Day-old cakes from Norma's Wedding Bakery? Used baby clothes? Pale green tuxedoes and purple ruffled shirts? No, no, no!
Please send money.
Yes, this is San Francisco - but no one really wants to touch your three dozen pairs of crotchless bluejeans.
If, on the other hand, you decide to sell a kidney and donate the proceeds, most charities will not blink an eye. Do so, and Savage Kitten will even send you a VERY NICE thank you card signed by the executive director, AND a plaque announcing that YOU (yes, you!) are a member of the Cavalcade of Angels™ (donors who have contributed over a thousand dollars).
Heck, sell two kidneys. Thank you! You are now an angel.
Friday, August 15, 2008
MY DUTCH BILE: A CORRESPONDENCE DUMP
For several years I have been a member of a few mailing lists, of which most members are speakers of Dutch. And as such, they have frequently managed to get my goat. They can't help themselves - they are such liberals......
And as Dutch-speaking liberals, they naturally instinctively hate America and the Yanks, Israel and the Jews. Because both of those countries and both of those peoples are so very very very wrong. To the average Dutch liberal mind. They are remarkably unanimous about this.
I too am a liberal. And I also speak Dutch. Yet I tend to think that many Dutch liberals are completely loopy.
[I.E.: bonkers, insane, not grounded in reality, out of touch with the real world, utterly mad. Stupid, too, some of them. A dense bunch.]
I have over the years sent quite a bit of e-venom into the lists. It has not helped much, because, as an American, pro-Israel, near-Jew, I am of course so very very very wrong.......
Herewith, for Dutch speakers, a sampling. Feel free to react. In either Dutch or English.
SAUDI FATWA TEGEN HEZBOLLAH
Volgens een Saudi kleriek zijn mensen die Hezbollah steunen (zoals, bijvoorbeeld, vele Nederlanders), hard...., stikke...., fout....!
Jawel. Blijkt dus dat die rooie rakkers in Nederland zoals gewoonlijk aan het verkeerde eind zijn. Niet verbazend - sedert de laat-zestiger jaren heb ik wel begrepen dat voor vele Nederlanders alles wat verbonden is met Amerika als des duivels beschouwd moet worden, en alles wat anti-Amerikaans is goed is. Een zeer Calvinistische standpunt, hoewel meestens in socialistische rhetoriek verhuld. Niet verwonderlijk dus dat Israel verboemand moet worden - ze zijn geallieerd met Amerika, en notabene verderfelijk on-Europeesch en eigenwijs (en ut benne joduh!).
Ik plak een gedeelte van het artiekel waarin de fatwa van Sjeich Abdoellah Ibn Jebrien tegen Hezbollah word vermeld hieronder. Het zou mij uiterst verbazen als dit OOIT in een Nederlandsche krant besproken word.
Saudi fatwa: Don’t support Hizbullah
A leading Wahhabi cleric in Saudi Arabia has issued a scathing fatwa against Hizbullah — the latest in a series of condemnations from the usually supportive Arab world.
Sheik Abdullah bin Jabreen declares it against Muslim Sharia law to support, join, or even pray for the terror group, writing, "our advice to the Sunnis is to denounce them and shun those who join them to show their hostility to Islam and to the Muslims," the report said.
This fatwa joins a ruling by a Kuwaiti sheikh, who harshly condemned the imperialistic aspirations of Iran through Hizbullah following the abduction of Israeli soldiers on the Lebanon border.
=======================================
ONEVENREDIGHEID
Wat onevenredig geweld betreft, het is maar hoe je het bekijkt. Hezbollah (die trouwens het bloed van honderden Amerikanen, honderden Israelis, en duizenden Kristenen, Soenieten, Druuz, en zelfs Sjiejieten op hun handen hebben, verschuilen zich onder de burger bevolking, gelijk een gangster bende.
En wat oneerlijke strijd betreft, weer een kwestie van bekijken. Tot nu toe heeft zachtheid van Israel altijd averrechts gewerkt, maar keihard terugslaan heeft beter gewerkt.
Indien sommige landen de oorlog die ze in 1948 verklaarden nou eens zouden opzeggen, en geen moordadige revolutionaire groepering zouden financieren, zou het stukken makkelijker zijn om vrede in die regio te verkrijgen.
Maar ja, men leidt liever de aandacht van eigen corruptie en tierannie af door een derde te verboemannen.
Men zou ook de aandacht eens kunnen wenden aan andere landen dan Israel - ik herinner mij, bijvoorbeeld, dat vele weldenkende, activistische Europeanen lofzangen uitriepen over de Khmer Rouge. Toen het bleek dat men een moordadige bende aan het prijzen was, vervaagden die lofzangen erg traag - men was niet rap bereid toe te geven dat een revolutionaire groepering fout was.
Denk ook aan de Vietnameze vluchtelingen - velen in Europa hielden vol dat het reactionairen waren die grondig verdiend hadden wat hun gebeurde.
Rwanda, Burundi? Stil, stil, het zijn toch maar Afrikanen - zoiets verwacht men wel.
Somalia? Te saai. En het zijn maar 'die lui'.
Ik vrees dat ik de reacties op Israelische oorlogvoering van Europeanen en Arabieren grotendeels beschouw als zijnde subconscious en in de kultuur gezetelde verontwaardiging dat 'die rotjoden' durven terug vechten - men is in die kontreien niet bereid om koppigheid en resistance van zulke mensen te aanvaarden (en vandaar dat men zo makkelijk het werk van de Haganah over het hoofd ziet, en vergeet dat welliswaar de VN Israel als staat aanvaarde, maar in feite Israel niet in leven riep - daar voor moest keihard gevochten worden door de Haganah: eerst tegen de Britten, daarna tegen de legers van vijf Arabische landen.
[In kort: De VN heeft GEEN land aan de Joden gegeven (de VN heeft daar nooit de macht voor gehad), maar heeft aanvaard dat de Joden daar al in feite een land hadden. De VN heeft ook de aggressie van de omringende landen nooit stil kunnen zetten, maar heeft aanvaard dat Arabisch anti-Semitisme een schone reden was om te trachten de Joden geheel af te slachten - hetgeen toevallige in de basis documenten van zowel de harakat al muqawamma al islammiya (hamas) als de parij van god (hezb-ullah) staat als ene hoofd-principe.]
=======================================
SOLIDARITEITS GEVOELENS
Men huilt zo graag over die arme Palestijntjes.....
Terwijl men vrijwel geen solidariteit ooit heeft gehadmet andere verdrukten - zoals Atjenezen, Papoeanen, Ambonezen, Kambodjanen, Tibetanen, Montagnards, Karen, Katjin, Mon, Shan, Kastelozen, Ahmedis, Koerden, Azeris, Tjetjenen, Oezbeken, Kazak, Oeigoeren, Noord-Koreanen, Roma, Berber.....
Dooie Soedanezen, Ethiopiers, Somalis? No problem.
Uitgemoorde dorpen in Afrika? No problem.
Honderduizenden dooie Algerijnen? No problem.
Sexslaven in Nederlandsche hoerhuizen? No problem.
UN Peacekeepers die jonge meisjes verkrachten? No problem.
Duitse skinheads die in de Kaukasus meevechten tegen Moslims? No problem.
Europeaansche sextoeristen in Thailand, SriLanka, Bali? No problem.
Rottige armoede en hopeloosheid in de Islamitische wijken van Europeesche steden? No problem.
Duizenden dooie Afrikanen in de Sahara, op de kusten van Noord-Afrika, rondrijvend in de Middellandsche zee, of aangespoeld op de stranden van Italie? No problem.
De wereld heeft immers altijd problemen gehad. Als weldoordenkend west-Europeaan moet men dus wel ietsje discriminerend tewerk gaan wat betreft de ideologische strijd. Slechts als de Yenks of de Joden er achter zitten is het de moeite van oprechte woede waard.
=======================================
Well then. Glad I got that out of my system. Or at least into the open.
I honestly don't expect many comments or reactions, as most of my readers are English speakers, and a fair number of them are either Jewish or pro-Israeli, or both. So there will be little comprehension of either meaning or bitter sarcastic flavour, but nevertheless a potential understanding of 'where I am coming from' - hate that phrase - and agreement on a number of points.
Regards, and a gitte shabbes.
And as Dutch-speaking liberals, they naturally instinctively hate America and the Yanks, Israel and the Jews. Because both of those countries and both of those peoples are so very very very wrong. To the average Dutch liberal mind. They are remarkably unanimous about this.
I too am a liberal. And I also speak Dutch. Yet I tend to think that many Dutch liberals are completely loopy.
[I.E.: bonkers, insane, not grounded in reality, out of touch with the real world, utterly mad. Stupid, too, some of them. A dense bunch.]
I have over the years sent quite a bit of e-venom into the lists. It has not helped much, because, as an American, pro-Israel, near-Jew, I am of course so very very very wrong.......
Herewith, for Dutch speakers, a sampling. Feel free to react. In either Dutch or English.
SAUDI FATWA TEGEN HEZBOLLAH
Volgens een Saudi kleriek zijn mensen die Hezbollah steunen (zoals, bijvoorbeeld, vele Nederlanders), hard...., stikke...., fout....!
Jawel. Blijkt dus dat die rooie rakkers in Nederland zoals gewoonlijk aan het verkeerde eind zijn. Niet verbazend - sedert de laat-zestiger jaren heb ik wel begrepen dat voor vele Nederlanders alles wat verbonden is met Amerika als des duivels beschouwd moet worden, en alles wat anti-Amerikaans is goed is. Een zeer Calvinistische standpunt, hoewel meestens in socialistische rhetoriek verhuld. Niet verwonderlijk dus dat Israel verboemand moet worden - ze zijn geallieerd met Amerika, en notabene verderfelijk on-Europeesch en eigenwijs (en ut benne joduh!).
Ik plak een gedeelte van het artiekel waarin de fatwa van Sjeich Abdoellah Ibn Jebrien tegen Hezbollah word vermeld hieronder. Het zou mij uiterst verbazen als dit OOIT in een Nederlandsche krant besproken word.
Saudi fatwa: Don’t support Hizbullah
A leading Wahhabi cleric in Saudi Arabia has issued a scathing fatwa against Hizbullah — the latest in a series of condemnations from the usually supportive Arab world.
Sheik Abdullah bin Jabreen declares it against Muslim Sharia law to support, join, or even pray for the terror group, writing, "our advice to the Sunnis is to denounce them and shun those who join them to show their hostility to Islam and to the Muslims," the report said.
This fatwa joins a ruling by a Kuwaiti sheikh, who harshly condemned the imperialistic aspirations of Iran through Hizbullah following the abduction of Israeli soldiers on the Lebanon border.
=======================================
ONEVENREDIGHEID
Wat onevenredig geweld betreft, het is maar hoe je het bekijkt. Hezbollah (die trouwens het bloed van honderden Amerikanen, honderden Israelis, en duizenden Kristenen, Soenieten, Druuz, en zelfs Sjiejieten op hun handen hebben, verschuilen zich onder de burger bevolking, gelijk een gangster bende.
En wat oneerlijke strijd betreft, weer een kwestie van bekijken. Tot nu toe heeft zachtheid van Israel altijd averrechts gewerkt, maar keihard terugslaan heeft beter gewerkt.
Indien sommige landen de oorlog die ze in 1948 verklaarden nou eens zouden opzeggen, en geen moordadige revolutionaire groepering zouden financieren, zou het stukken makkelijker zijn om vrede in die regio te verkrijgen.
Maar ja, men leidt liever de aandacht van eigen corruptie en tierannie af door een derde te verboemannen.
Men zou ook de aandacht eens kunnen wenden aan andere landen dan Israel - ik herinner mij, bijvoorbeeld, dat vele weldenkende, activistische Europeanen lofzangen uitriepen over de Khmer Rouge. Toen het bleek dat men een moordadige bende aan het prijzen was, vervaagden die lofzangen erg traag - men was niet rap bereid toe te geven dat een revolutionaire groepering fout was.
Denk ook aan de Vietnameze vluchtelingen - velen in Europa hielden vol dat het reactionairen waren die grondig verdiend hadden wat hun gebeurde.
Rwanda, Burundi? Stil, stil, het zijn toch maar Afrikanen - zoiets verwacht men wel.
Somalia? Te saai. En het zijn maar 'die lui'.
Ik vrees dat ik de reacties op Israelische oorlogvoering van Europeanen en Arabieren grotendeels beschouw als zijnde subconscious en in de kultuur gezetelde verontwaardiging dat 'die rotjoden' durven terug vechten - men is in die kontreien niet bereid om koppigheid en resistance van zulke mensen te aanvaarden (en vandaar dat men zo makkelijk het werk van de Haganah over het hoofd ziet, en vergeet dat welliswaar de VN Israel als staat aanvaarde, maar in feite Israel niet in leven riep - daar voor moest keihard gevochten worden door de Haganah: eerst tegen de Britten, daarna tegen de legers van vijf Arabische landen.
[In kort: De VN heeft GEEN land aan de Joden gegeven (de VN heeft daar nooit de macht voor gehad), maar heeft aanvaard dat de Joden daar al in feite een land hadden. De VN heeft ook de aggressie van de omringende landen nooit stil kunnen zetten, maar heeft aanvaard dat Arabisch anti-Semitisme een schone reden was om te trachten de Joden geheel af te slachten - hetgeen toevallige in de basis documenten van zowel de harakat al muqawamma al islammiya (hamas) als de parij van god (hezb-ullah) staat als ene hoofd-principe.]
=======================================
SOLIDARITEITS GEVOELENS
Men huilt zo graag over die arme Palestijntjes.....
Terwijl men vrijwel geen solidariteit ooit heeft gehadmet andere verdrukten - zoals Atjenezen, Papoeanen, Ambonezen, Kambodjanen, Tibetanen, Montagnards, Karen, Katjin, Mon, Shan, Kastelozen, Ahmedis, Koerden, Azeris, Tjetjenen, Oezbeken, Kazak, Oeigoeren, Noord-Koreanen, Roma, Berber.....
Dooie Soedanezen, Ethiopiers, Somalis? No problem.
Uitgemoorde dorpen in Afrika? No problem.
Honderduizenden dooie Algerijnen? No problem.
Sexslaven in Nederlandsche hoerhuizen? No problem.
UN Peacekeepers die jonge meisjes verkrachten? No problem.
Duitse skinheads die in de Kaukasus meevechten tegen Moslims? No problem.
Europeaansche sextoeristen in Thailand, SriLanka, Bali? No problem.
Rottige armoede en hopeloosheid in de Islamitische wijken van Europeesche steden? No problem.
Duizenden dooie Afrikanen in de Sahara, op de kusten van Noord-Afrika, rondrijvend in de Middellandsche zee, of aangespoeld op de stranden van Italie? No problem.
De wereld heeft immers altijd problemen gehad. Als weldoordenkend west-Europeaan moet men dus wel ietsje discriminerend tewerk gaan wat betreft de ideologische strijd. Slechts als de Yenks of de Joden er achter zitten is het de moeite van oprechte woede waard.
=======================================
Well then. Glad I got that out of my system. Or at least into the open.
I honestly don't expect many comments or reactions, as most of my readers are English speakers, and a fair number of them are either Jewish or pro-Israeli, or both. So there will be little comprehension of either meaning or bitter sarcastic flavour, but nevertheless a potential understanding of 'where I am coming from' - hate that phrase - and agreement on a number of points.
Regards, and a gitte shabbes.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
MIKHAIL SAAKASHVILI IS A WAR CRIMINAL
Amid the slavish devotion of America's leaders to the adventurist in Tblisi, and the barrage of pro-Georgian anti-Russian wafflegab coming from Washington, there are some signs that not everybody is in love with Mikhail Saakashvili.
At least on the other side of the pond some news organizations are more realistic about who started the slug-fest, which group of civilians got it in the shorts, who is in the wrong, and why.
News coming out of South Ossetia make it fairly clear that Georgia's leaders are a less than savoury bunch - headed by a man who should be delivered for trial to the Hague.
Excerpts from a BBC article:
"Barely a building in the South Ossetian capital Tskhinvali escaped unscathed from the fighting that began last week ... "
"Everywhere, there are mountains of shattered glass. Those who didn't flee South Ossetia as refugees are now emerging from their basements to begin the clean-up. "
"...many Ossetians I met both in Tskhinvali and in the main refugee camp in Russia - are furious about what has happened to their city.
They are very clear who they blame: Georgia's President Mikhail Saakashvili, who sent troops to re-take control of this breakaway region. That effort has clearly backfired. The pro-Russian sentiment I experienced on my last visit four years ago has become far fiercer as a result of this conflict. "
"Look how many people died here! We can never join Georgia after this. We'll cope on our own."
" "We were bombed for three days and nights. If Russia had not helped, we would have disappeared," Lusya's neighbour Elena said, visibly angry. "Only Russia takes us under its wing. We want to be with Russia." "
"Despite international calls for a withdrawal, there is no sign of Russia pulling its troops out of Ossetia. By Wednesday, they had received an order to cease fire, but not to leave.
Their presence is popular with many locals, who wave as soldiers drive past in the street. "
"This conflict has already destroyed any trust between Georgian and Ossetians. It now looks like any chance there was of reconciliation is burning along with the houses."
Source: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/7558619.stm
[Note: There are many more sources that say much the same thing; the problem is that they are all in 'Foreignese', which is something many of my readers do not comprehend. Hence my citing of only one news source.]
Now, I know there is more to this than the pipe-lines, and oil. But claiming that Mikhail Saakashvili is a progressive, and his country a beacon of liberty and democracy is just a load of horse manure. The man is an oaf and a kleptocrat and his country is on par with the brutal regimes that once littered America's own back yard.
I have scant sympathy for the Georgians in this matter, and really wish our politicians would learn to shut up if they cannot learn the facts. Lending credence to mr. Saakashvili's opportunistic pandering makes a whore out him - no problem, he seems to have a hang for it - but also makes a whore out of us. It may be a talent of ours also, but it would be meet of our leaders to not be blatant about it.
We are better than that; bugger the gangsters in Tblisi .
At least on the other side of the pond some news organizations are more realistic about who started the slug-fest, which group of civilians got it in the shorts, who is in the wrong, and why.
News coming out of South Ossetia make it fairly clear that Georgia's leaders are a less than savoury bunch - headed by a man who should be delivered for trial to the Hague.
Excerpts from a BBC article:
"Barely a building in the South Ossetian capital Tskhinvali escaped unscathed from the fighting that began last week ... "
"Everywhere, there are mountains of shattered glass. Those who didn't flee South Ossetia as refugees are now emerging from their basements to begin the clean-up. "
"...many Ossetians I met both in Tskhinvali and in the main refugee camp in Russia - are furious about what has happened to their city.
They are very clear who they blame: Georgia's President Mikhail Saakashvili, who sent troops to re-take control of this breakaway region. That effort has clearly backfired. The pro-Russian sentiment I experienced on my last visit four years ago has become far fiercer as a result of this conflict. "
"Look how many people died here! We can never join Georgia after this. We'll cope on our own."
" "We were bombed for three days and nights. If Russia had not helped, we would have disappeared," Lusya's neighbour Elena said, visibly angry. "Only Russia takes us under its wing. We want to be with Russia." "
"Despite international calls for a withdrawal, there is no sign of Russia pulling its troops out of Ossetia. By Wednesday, they had received an order to cease fire, but not to leave.
Their presence is popular with many locals, who wave as soldiers drive past in the street. "
"This conflict has already destroyed any trust between Georgian and Ossetians. It now looks like any chance there was of reconciliation is burning along with the houses."
Source: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/7558619.stm
[Note: There are many more sources that say much the same thing; the problem is that they are all in 'Foreignese', which is something many of my readers do not comprehend. Hence my citing of only one news source.]
Now, I know there is more to this than the pipe-lines, and oil. But claiming that Mikhail Saakashvili is a progressive, and his country a beacon of liberty and democracy is just a load of horse manure. The man is an oaf and a kleptocrat and his country is on par with the brutal regimes that once littered America's own back yard.
I have scant sympathy for the Georgians in this matter, and really wish our politicians would learn to shut up if they cannot learn the facts. Lending credence to mr. Saakashvili's opportunistic pandering makes a whore out him - no problem, he seems to have a hang for it - but also makes a whore out of us. It may be a talent of ours also, but it would be meet of our leaders to not be blatant about it.
We are better than that; bugger the gangsters in Tblisi .
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
NO, YOU DO NOT GET MY GOAT
There are times when little nuggets of pure gold appear in the comment section. And even if the gold proves dross, the sparkling portrait of a fevered mind remains. Comments, in a large part, are the collective subconscious of a blog - the ghosts of alternate personalities in a schizophrenic realm.
Consider this sharp retort:
"You ignored the nuts! NEVER..!..! ignore the nuts!"
The same person then went on to write:
"Listen, mister, there is nothing clean about stumping a goat, let me tell you! The entire city of Delhi knows this, from keen personal experience, about which they bally WON'T shut up, and yet they still pursue goats with an avidity and a zest which boggles the mind, staggers the senses, and buggers the imagination! And the goat. The last bit, that is. Bally perverts. And crypto Pakis. Tis a fine tradition. In Delhi."
Followed by:
"And they don't even have boots! Have you ever tried sticking goat trots in your chapplis? Is buggery impossible. Meeeh! Meeeh! Mee-ee-eeeh!"
Under yet another post, he asked:
"Disaster zun rein? Vos disser stranger text alle iz, kanstu es translatieren, sil bus pley? Wir furstain es im gunzer nit, iz allemost looking at vos di Jossip Izrael ez hotter geschrieb. Ja. And a big goat for du!"
GOATS
I should point out at this interval that not a single one of my posts discussed sex with goats. Ever. My blog has veered into odd subjects, and perhaps gone a little bit overboard about certain appetizing fetishes - just a tiny bit - but performing unnatural Texan acts on goats, of either gender, has not been on the programme. The goat stuff is something that particular commenter came up with all by himself. It represents an imaginary sexuality, or a problematic life-style choice. Perhaps either-or and both, approximately and exactly.
More power to him if he's that way inclined.
He may have a thing about goats. And a thing for goats.
I will just have to make sure that my goats do not stray anywhere near him. My goats are by no means ready for any depravity. Not by a long shot.
My goats are still sweet and innocent.
I do not ignore the nuts. I never ignore the nuts.
Consider this sharp retort:
"You ignored the nuts! NEVER..!..! ignore the nuts!"
The same person then went on to write:
"Listen, mister, there is nothing clean about stumping a goat, let me tell you! The entire city of Delhi knows this, from keen personal experience, about which they bally WON'T shut up, and yet they still pursue goats with an avidity and a zest which boggles the mind, staggers the senses, and buggers the imagination! And the goat. The last bit, that is. Bally perverts. And crypto Pakis. Tis a fine tradition. In Delhi."
Followed by:
"And they don't even have boots! Have you ever tried sticking goat trots in your chapplis? Is buggery impossible. Meeeh! Meeeh! Mee-ee-eeeh!"
Under yet another post, he asked:
"Disaster zun rein? Vos disser stranger text alle iz, kanstu es translatieren, sil bus pley? Wir furstain es im gunzer nit, iz allemost looking at vos di Jossip Izrael ez hotter geschrieb. Ja. And a big goat for du!"
GOATS
I should point out at this interval that not a single one of my posts discussed sex with goats. Ever. My blog has veered into odd subjects, and perhaps gone a little bit overboard about certain appetizing fetishes - just a tiny bit - but performing unnatural Texan acts on goats, of either gender, has not been on the programme. The goat stuff is something that particular commenter came up with all by himself. It represents an imaginary sexuality, or a problematic life-style choice. Perhaps either-or and both, approximately and exactly.
More power to him if he's that way inclined.
He may have a thing about goats. And a thing for goats.
I will just have to make sure that my goats do not stray anywhere near him. My goats are by no means ready for any depravity. Not by a long shot.
My goats are still sweet and innocent.
I do not ignore the nuts. I never ignore the nuts.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
SPRINGY ROUND BOTTOMS
In everybody's circle of friends and acquaintances there are few who habitually show up late. Whether it's for a simcha, supper, or an important appointment.
Sometimes, showing up late is a metaphor - they're actually on time, but the train hasn't left the station, the boat is still at the dock, and the elevator is stuck a few floors down from the top.
I have received the following plaintive e-mail from one such person:
Dear xxxxx,
This message is to inform you that you have received a personal invitation from your friend, (mxxxsxxx) to join them at GayGuysChat.com
Please take time to visit them using the following link: GayGuysChat.com
Regards,
GayGuysChat Support
Oh boy. I'm tempted. The sheer amount of havoc I could wreak is staggering. Problem is, I'm not gay. As the sender knows.
He just hasn't quite figured out how to mail an invite from gayguyschat to a limited subsection of his address book yet.
Perhaps I should sweetly inquire whether he needs a few pointers on how to use a computer.
But I probably won't - this is not the first time I have received his kindly gayguyschat invite - he has been sending gayguyschat invites repeatedly to all several hundred people in his address book since January, I think, when the first blistering fire-storms burst out from outraged recipients, some of whom had not heard from him in years.
"You don't call, you don't write, I never hear from you, and this is the first thing I get since I sent you a present on your birthday? Your father and I are very upset!!!"
Or:
"You never congratulated your niece on her graduation, you didn't even send a get-well card after the horrible accident, you ignored your own brother when he was dying of cancah, but this(!) you can send?!?*&*?"
I wonder what gay guys chat about. Straight people? Sex?
Football players?
Football players well-rounded bottoms in tight shiny uniform pants?
I must admit that straight people and sex do indeed interest me - heck, fascinate me no end at times - but football players and their shiny uniformed bottoms are not high on my list of things I really must investigate.
If a football player, even one with a very nice springy round bottom in a tight uniform, were to pass by, I would not break stride.
His very nice springy round bottom (uniformed or otherwise) would remain unpatted, unpinched, unobserved. I would not wax lyrical about its springy roundness afterwards, would write no paeans to its tightly uniformed glory, poetize no lyrics to its pattable and pinchable beauty.
There is only one kind of nice springy round bottom that interests me. It is not discussed at gayguyschat, of that I am certain. Despite the uniform.
Sometimes, showing up late is a metaphor - they're actually on time, but the train hasn't left the station, the boat is still at the dock, and the elevator is stuck a few floors down from the top.
I have received the following plaintive e-mail from one such person:
Dear xxxxx,
This message is to inform you that you have received a personal invitation from your friend, (mxxxsxxx) to join them at GayGuysChat.com
Please take time to visit them using the following link: GayGuysChat.com
Regards,
GayGuysChat Support
Oh boy. I'm tempted. The sheer amount of havoc I could wreak is staggering. Problem is, I'm not gay. As the sender knows.
He just hasn't quite figured out how to mail an invite from gayguyschat to a limited subsection of his address book yet.
Perhaps I should sweetly inquire whether he needs a few pointers on how to use a computer.
But I probably won't - this is not the first time I have received his kindly gayguyschat invite - he has been sending gayguyschat invites repeatedly to all several hundred people in his address book since January, I think, when the first blistering fire-storms burst out from outraged recipients, some of whom had not heard from him in years.
"You don't call, you don't write, I never hear from you, and this is the first thing I get since I sent you a present on your birthday? Your father and I are very upset!!!"
Or:
"You never congratulated your niece on her graduation, you didn't even send a get-well card after the horrible accident, you ignored your own brother when he was dying of cancah, but this(!) you can send?!?*&*?"
I wonder what gay guys chat about. Straight people? Sex?
Football players?
Football players well-rounded bottoms in tight shiny uniform pants?
I must admit that straight people and sex do indeed interest me - heck, fascinate me no end at times - but football players and their shiny uniformed bottoms are not high on my list of things I really must investigate.
If a football player, even one with a very nice springy round bottom in a tight uniform, were to pass by, I would not break stride.
His very nice springy round bottom (uniformed or otherwise) would remain unpatted, unpinched, unobserved. I would not wax lyrical about its springy roundness afterwards, would write no paeans to its tightly uniformed glory, poetize no lyrics to its pattable and pinchable beauty.
There is only one kind of nice springy round bottom that interests me. It is not discussed at gayguyschat, of that I am certain. Despite the uniform.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
NOW MORE WOMBAT THAN EVER
I note, in passing, that several of my readers have left comments evincing an unhealthy interest in wombats (Vombatus ursinus, Lasiorhinos latifrons, -krefftii, et spp.). This blog, for the past week, has seemed an outpost of Wombats-R-Us.
THE WOMBAT
The wombat, for those who are not familiar with the beast, is a quadruped that lives in forested montane areas of Australia and Tasmania. It has rodent-like front teeth and powerful claws for digging up roots. It is crepuscular and nocturnal.
A wombat digests its food slowly. It has a posterior covered with cartilage. It does not have a meaningful tail.
Wombats are dangerous, and have been known to attack humans.
All of this courtesy of Wikipedia. For more on wombats:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wombat
There is a blog called Wombat Bacon here:http://wombatbacon.blogspot.com/
WOMBAT CUISINE
Wombats are unpleasant animals. A search for "wombat curry" yielded no recipes. Apparently the darned thing is nearly inedible. But when braised they can be "quite good" in a white wine sauce. To avoid the brute drying out, lard him with bacon when roasting. A haunch of wombat will probably benefit from prolonged simmering in soy sauce, rice wine, garlic, ginger, and star-anise.
Any form of cooked wombat is probably excellent with Australian lager. But not with anything else. Neither is the Australian lager.
Wombats are not kosher.
FINAL NOTE ABOUT WOMBATS
A gentleman in a suburb of Sydney created a nativity scene entirely out of stuffed wombats on his front lawn. His neighbors complained and the council order it removed. This serves as a warning against home taxidermy - Jesus, Mary, and Josef were rotten and attracted vermin. Which says something either about Christianity or about Australia in the middle of the warm season. I do not care to know what.
THE WOMBAT
The wombat, for those who are not familiar with the beast, is a quadruped that lives in forested montane areas of Australia and Tasmania. It has rodent-like front teeth and powerful claws for digging up roots. It is crepuscular and nocturnal.
A wombat digests its food slowly. It has a posterior covered with cartilage. It does not have a meaningful tail.
Wombats are dangerous, and have been known to attack humans.
All of this courtesy of Wikipedia. For more on wombats:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wombat
There is a blog called Wombat Bacon here:http://wombatbacon.blogspot.com/
WOMBAT CUISINE
Wombats are unpleasant animals. A search for "wombat curry" yielded no recipes. Apparently the darned thing is nearly inedible. But when braised they can be "quite good" in a white wine sauce. To avoid the brute drying out, lard him with bacon when roasting. A haunch of wombat will probably benefit from prolonged simmering in soy sauce, rice wine, garlic, ginger, and star-anise.
Any form of cooked wombat is probably excellent with Australian lager. But not with anything else. Neither is the Australian lager.
Wombats are not kosher.
FINAL NOTE ABOUT WOMBATS
A gentleman in a suburb of Sydney created a nativity scene entirely out of stuffed wombats on his front lawn. His neighbors complained and the council order it removed. This serves as a warning against home taxidermy - Jesus, Mary, and Josef were rotten and attracted vermin. Which says something either about Christianity or about Australia in the middle of the warm season. I do not care to know what.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
CATHOLIC WOMBAT UNDERWEAR
Apparently fetishes interest my readers. I may be just projecting, of course, but judging by the wealth of comments I have received ever since I started writing about underwear, schoolgirls, and wombats, there is a vast untapped market out there of people who like discussing such obsessions ..... if not actually practicing them in the privacy of their own darkened sweat-reek dungeons.
Fetishes are very Catholic, as one my anonymous commenters pointed out.
Reader Spiros then elaborated, saying: " a blog which features repeated references to curries, Talmud, Malayo-Polynesian languages, Manga, medieval Dutch poetry, pipe tobacco, and transvestites, not to mention wombats (CUIDADO LOS UOMBATS!), could be fairly characterized as being catholic ".
Beware of wombats.
Graham writes: " I am amazed at H.B.'s abilities & challenge him to do the fetish stuff for..... Beatrix der Nederlanden."
The Beatrix referred to is Beatrix Wilhelmina Armgard of Orange Nassau, Queen of the Netherlands and princess of Lippe-Biesterfeld. She has been the reigning monarch since her mother princess Juliana abdicated in 1980.
[As a matter of interest to Margavriel, the queen is also the countess of Katzenelnbogen. This datum as a lagniappe.]
I like a challenge, but there is perhaps too much to work with here.
Should I speak of her helmet-like coiffure, reminiscent of nineteen-sixties stewardesses and the dignified hair-helmets of yore? Should I mention that it reminds me of the mushroom people in a remarkably sexual children's book from years ago? I remember her gliding over the green dunes of the Eindhovensche golf course one drizzly day, following her husband and his friends Riemsdijk and van Lanschot, as they listlessly whacked their balls. Her hair shielded her from the worst effects of the rain, and was still shiny and hard when the eighteen holes were done.
Or could I, Clinton-like, obsess over her firm jaw, the lively eyes, her preference for certain dresses, a possible secret liking for big strong cigars?
Or might I instead imagine a big bold lesbian who collects photos of Beatrix, and enjoys sliding the thin thin edges of those pictures over her breasts, drawing blood from many microscopic paper cuts, panting and sweating as her heaving bosom reddens, reddens, reddens........ She sinks down upon her sheets of royalist orange, meltingly deliquescent, her fingers clenching and unclenching, as she imagines those stern loving eyes, that regal jaw (the Lippe-Biesterfeld gene!), the languidly waving right hand before an adoring yet wholly imaginary throng.....
Oh to wander the long frigid halls of the Loo Palace, or the cool marble floors in quiet corners of the Binnenhof, pantingly impatient for the object of her crush to return from delivering the opening address to parliament, and come to her, tired from performing her royal duty, majestic and graceful......
Good heavens, I just don't know where to begin. I am at a loss here, Graham, please help me out. I invite you to describe how Beatrix makes you feel, and what you yourself find most appealing about the current Dutch monarch.
Just don't use the term 'wombat'. There has been far too much mention of wombat here in recent days, and the thrill of large antipodean marmots is wearing thin.
Fetishes are very Catholic, as one my anonymous commenters pointed out.
Reader Spiros then elaborated, saying: " a blog which features repeated references to curries, Talmud, Malayo-Polynesian languages, Manga, medieval Dutch poetry, pipe tobacco, and transvestites, not to mention wombats (CUIDADO LOS UOMBATS!), could be fairly characterized as being catholic ".
Beware of wombats.
Graham writes: " I am amazed at H.B.'s abilities & challenge him to do the fetish stuff for..... Beatrix der Nederlanden."
The Beatrix referred to is Beatrix Wilhelmina Armgard of Orange Nassau, Queen of the Netherlands and princess of Lippe-Biesterfeld. She has been the reigning monarch since her mother princess Juliana abdicated in 1980.
[As a matter of interest to Margavriel, the queen is also the countess of Katzenelnbogen. This datum as a lagniappe.]
I like a challenge, but there is perhaps too much to work with here.
Should I speak of her helmet-like coiffure, reminiscent of nineteen-sixties stewardesses and the dignified hair-helmets of yore? Should I mention that it reminds me of the mushroom people in a remarkably sexual children's book from years ago? I remember her gliding over the green dunes of the Eindhovensche golf course one drizzly day, following her husband and his friends Riemsdijk and van Lanschot, as they listlessly whacked their balls. Her hair shielded her from the worst effects of the rain, and was still shiny and hard when the eighteen holes were done.
Or could I, Clinton-like, obsess over her firm jaw, the lively eyes, her preference for certain dresses, a possible secret liking for big strong cigars?
Or might I instead imagine a big bold lesbian who collects photos of Beatrix, and enjoys sliding the thin thin edges of those pictures over her breasts, drawing blood from many microscopic paper cuts, panting and sweating as her heaving bosom reddens, reddens, reddens........ She sinks down upon her sheets of royalist orange, meltingly deliquescent, her fingers clenching and unclenching, as she imagines those stern loving eyes, that regal jaw (the Lippe-Biesterfeld gene!), the languidly waving right hand before an adoring yet wholly imaginary throng.....
Oh to wander the long frigid halls of the Loo Palace, or the cool marble floors in quiet corners of the Binnenhof, pantingly impatient for the object of her crush to return from delivering the opening address to parliament, and come to her, tired from performing her royal duty, majestic and graceful......
Good heavens, I just don't know where to begin. I am at a loss here, Graham, please help me out. I invite you to describe how Beatrix makes you feel, and what you yourself find most appealing about the current Dutch monarch.
Just don't use the term 'wombat'. There has been far too much mention of wombat here in recent days, and the thrill of large antipodean marmots is wearing thin.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
SOLUTION TO SHIDDUCH CRISIS
A friend, of much the same age as myself, is neither married nor seeing someone. He is not immune to feminine charms, however, and has robust and healthy tastes.
I have told him several times what he needs in his life.
He needs someone like the heroine of this video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vpvvFn54hRs
She's dreamy, as I'm sure you'll agree.
And she knows her way around a kitchen. A very capable girl.
With a bit of luck, this conversation will be part of the programme:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VY8L_apFieE
If he takes my advice, and finds somebody exactly like her, I expect to be invited to the chasunah.
I have told him several times what he needs in his life.
He needs someone like the heroine of this video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vpvvFn54hRs
She's dreamy, as I'm sure you'll agree.
And she knows her way around a kitchen. A very capable girl.
With a bit of luck, this conversation will be part of the programme:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VY8L_apFieE
If he takes my advice, and finds somebody exactly like her, I expect to be invited to the chasunah.
Friday, July 11, 2008
HELLO KITTY IS LOST
and wants to be reunited with the owner.
If you own a red water bottle with Hello Kitty on it, she spent the night in the lonely ops department in my cube.
I think I see tears, but cannot be sure….
She is waiting to be rescued.
------A.V.
---------------------------------
The above was an e-mail that our customer service person sent out. Proving, conclusively, that she is the right person for the job. Notice that she is not talking down to the person who owns a red Hello Kitty water bottle, but is sympathizing sincerely with their loss, and feels their deep angst and pain. She wants the two of them to be re-united.
Whether she wants anything else for those two and their misguided pairing is a question best left unanswered.
If you own a red water bottle with Hello Kitty on it, she spent the night in the lonely ops department in my cube.
I think I see tears, but cannot be sure….
She is waiting to be rescued.
------A.V.
---------------------------------
The above was an e-mail that our customer service person sent out. Proving, conclusively, that she is the right person for the job. Notice that she is not talking down to the person who owns a red Hello Kitty water bottle, but is sympathizing sincerely with their loss, and feels their deep angst and pain. She wants the two of them to be re-united.
Whether she wants anything else for those two and their misguided pairing is a question best left unanswered.
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THE RARE DEMOGRAPHIC
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