One comestible which all exiles swear by, especially when properly ired by American attitudes toward British food, is HP Sauce. This is a viscous brown bottled condiment rather like a traditional chutney, in that it contains tamarind, but it is otherwise entirely different. Malt vinegar, tomato, dates, sugar, tamarind, salt, and spices.
In British hospitals it is fed intravenously to the comatose.
HP Sauce goes with everything. Pan fried food, deep fried food, grilled food. You cannot make a bacon sandwich without it.
BACON SANDWICH
The British relative of the BLT lacks the L and T, but contains a bit more bacon, as well as butter and HP sauce. The bacon naturally should be English bacon, meaning that it isn't the streaky thin-cut American supermarket product, but side or back bacon, and somewhat drier than the belly bacon Americans are used to.
The bread should be from a decent loaf, cut at home, instead of the typical pre-sliced cottonwool that most Americans eat. If you live in San Francisco, you can get a good baked product; lovely dense bread with consistency and a toothsome quality. If you are out in the fly-overs, you may be entirely out of luck, in which case you have my sympathy, but I don't want you to move because SF is kind of crowded and we really don't need anymore people.
Please stay where you are. Or go to New York.
Yes, head to New York.
That's perfect.
Fry the bacon crisp, drain it on paper towels.
Cut the bread, toast it, then butter it.
Drizzle HP sauce on one slice.
Put the bacon over, then top with the other slice.
Cut the sandwich diagonally.
Have it with a cup of strong tea, with milk and sugar.
No, do not add tomato, or lettuce, or cucumbers, or sliced apple.
Healthy stuff does not belong in a bacon sandwich.
[Some people do NOT toast the bread. Heretics.]
Please note that British HP Sauce is no longer the same product that it used to be. No, moving the manufacture to Holland did not change it, government diktat did. There is less salt in it than before, in consequence of which the flavour balance went off, and the sourness is more prominent. There is no point in complaining to Heinz, which owns the brand, as they are merely obeying the regulatory agencies ("cuisine by committee"), but you can always sprinkle a little more salt on your food to compensate.
[Vegetarians and vegans can make a substitute which is perfectly suitable for them by putting tofu between two slices of wonderbread.]
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Thursday, February 12, 2015
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
BREAKFAST -- NO DRIED FISH
I do not eat breakfast. Early morning is a time of deep contemplation, existential angst, and despair over the fate of the world, NOT indulging the flesh!
Actually, that's strong coffee, a bit of tobacco in a pipe or small cheroot, and maybe half a glass of yoghurt, followed by rigorous ablutions.
If you're a woman, you can omit all that stuff.
Women don't shave.
TOO MUCH GUSTO!
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGjeaHe7GkY.]
I usually don't bother eating till mid-afternoon. Well after the coffee and ablutions.
Breakfast is more exciting as an intellectual concept than as a reality.
Which is why I rather like this chipper video:
YOU MIGHT REQUIRE A PURI
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bKHB_CT7ekM.]
Chicken nihari is, of course, a contradiction in terms. But why not? Maybe you don't want lamb shanks just after dawn? Some people aren't ready for an English breakfast.
But it's a lovely fantasy.
A GOOD WHIZZ
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3fwzIRcaYXk.]
Nothing is more British than butter chicken.
It, too, would make a great breakfast.
Mmmm, back to contemplating tragedy and despair now.
It's time for existential angst.
Coffee.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Actually, that's strong coffee, a bit of tobacco in a pipe or small cheroot, and maybe half a glass of yoghurt, followed by rigorous ablutions.
If you're a woman, you can omit all that stuff.
Women don't shave.
TOO MUCH GUSTO!
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGjeaHe7GkY.]
I usually don't bother eating till mid-afternoon. Well after the coffee and ablutions.
Breakfast is more exciting as an intellectual concept than as a reality.
Which is why I rather like this chipper video:
YOU MIGHT REQUIRE A PURI
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bKHB_CT7ekM.]
Chicken nihari is, of course, a contradiction in terms. But why not? Maybe you don't want lamb shanks just after dawn? Some people aren't ready for an English breakfast.
But it's a lovely fantasy.
A GOOD WHIZZ
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3fwzIRcaYXk.]
Nothing is more British than butter chicken.
It, too, would make a great breakfast.
Mmmm, back to contemplating tragedy and despair now.
It's time for existential angst.
Coffee.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
A DANCE TO SPRING: YOU CANNOTGO IN THERE, YOU CANNOT GO IN THERE! OH YES I CAN!
In accordance with this blogger's deep fascination for underwear, as well as an abiding admiration for the well-developed human physique in motion, I feel obligated to share the video below with my readers.
No, I do not personally know that gentleman.
But I feel like I do.
LOVELY FLOWERED PANTIES!
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ULLbBaU3NDM#t=123.]
Of course, his choice of zesty underwear is NOT the entire message. But the combination of charming panties, a sense of rhythm, and a meaningful statement, is winning.
If you also wear zesty underwear and have a drum, you too could go out in public and change people's minds. I guarantee it.
Keep me abreast of your progress.
Go to Forever 21.
Dance.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
No, I do not personally know that gentleman.
But I feel like I do.
LOVELY FLOWERED PANTIES!
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ULLbBaU3NDM#t=123.]
Of course, his choice of zesty underwear is NOT the entire message. But the combination of charming panties, a sense of rhythm, and a meaningful statement, is winning.
If you also wear zesty underwear and have a drum, you too could go out in public and change people's minds. I guarantee it.
Keep me abreast of your progress.
Go to Forever 21.
Dance.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
SMALL CANTONESE FEMALE
Got on the bus at Polk Street. By Hyde Street, having gotten bored of reading the minds of everyone further back, I looked toward the front. And then I noticed her.
Not many people can fit into a bus seat.
Sideways.
She was sleeping curled up on the seat, with her granddad's arm protectively reaching over to keep her from slipping off. It was because there were two backpacks on the seat on the other side of him that I first noticed either of them, really. Elderly gentlemen with colourful backpacks of the Hello Kitty variety are not that common, and usually that theme means a little girl somewhere. Granddads frequently head down to Chinatown in connection with their grandchildren; either to pick them up from school or drop them off.
A delicately sculpted face. Gentle and perfect. Napping forest creature.
Elegant little nose, elfin cheeks, rosebud lips. The eyelashes featherlike, eyebrows like tiny little caterpillars. So sweet and adorable as she slept.
It's that fineness of detail.
Beautiful.
She looked peaceful with her head on his thigh, using it as a pillow.
He looked abstracted.
She's probably all energy when she's awake. A Do Do Cheng or Anita Mui in the making. Little Cantonese girls always become big Cantonese girls. They grow up.
At which point they can be quite fierce.
For another six blocks I observed her out of the corner of my eye. She did not move that entire time. Fast asleep, probably exhausted from a prolonged riot. Or something equally energy-draining.
She's probably a very nice little girl.
Stubborn and intelligent.
He grandfather loves her.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Not many people can fit into a bus seat.
Sideways.
She was sleeping curled up on the seat, with her granddad's arm protectively reaching over to keep her from slipping off. It was because there were two backpacks on the seat on the other side of him that I first noticed either of them, really. Elderly gentlemen with colourful backpacks of the Hello Kitty variety are not that common, and usually that theme means a little girl somewhere. Granddads frequently head down to Chinatown in connection with their grandchildren; either to pick them up from school or drop them off.
A delicately sculpted face. Gentle and perfect. Napping forest creature.
Elegant little nose, elfin cheeks, rosebud lips. The eyelashes featherlike, eyebrows like tiny little caterpillars. So sweet and adorable as she slept.
It's that fineness of detail.
Beautiful.
She looked peaceful with her head on his thigh, using it as a pillow.
He looked abstracted.
She's probably all energy when she's awake. A Do Do Cheng or Anita Mui in the making. Little Cantonese girls always become big Cantonese girls. They grow up.
At which point they can be quite fierce.
For another six blocks I observed her out of the corner of my eye. She did not move that entire time. Fast asleep, probably exhausted from a prolonged riot. Or something equally energy-draining.
She's probably a very nice little girl.
Stubborn and intelligent.
He grandfather loves her.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Monday, February 09, 2015
KANYE WEST IS A DICK
Courtesy of the Washington Post:
"I just know that the Grammys, if they want real artists to keep coming back, they need to stop playing with us. We ain’t gonna play with them no more. “Flawless,” Beyoncé video. And Beck needs to respect artistry and he should have given his award to Beyoncé and at this point, we tired of it. Because what happens is when you keep on diminishing art and not respecting the craft and smacking people in the face after they deliver monumental feats of music, you’re disrespectful to inspiration. And we as musicians have to inspire people who go to work every day. And they listen to that Beyoncé album and they feel like it takes them to another place. Then they do this whole promotional event, that, you know, they’ll run the music over somebody’s speech, the artist, because they want a commercial advertising. Like no, we not playing with them no more. And by the way, I got my wife, I got my daughter, and I got my clothing line so I’m not going to do nothing to put my daughter at risk — but I am here to fight for creativity. That’s the reason why I didn’t say anything tonight. But y’all know what it meant when ‘Ye walked on the stage."
---Kanye West
Source: Kanye ain't joking, article about Kanye being regrettably Kanye, in The Washington Post.
Of course my immediate reaction was: "good lord, who is this penis-head? And why is he 'famous', or even allowed to speak?"
Reason being that I deservedly sneer at most modern celebrities, and when the name 'Kanye West' first cropped up several years ago it was in connection to dickhead behaviour, and every time since then that I've heard or seen him mentioned, again, more dickhead behaviour.
Is dickhead behaviour really the basis for fame?
Sadly, this seems to be the case.
I am not famous.
But then, I am not Kanye West.
Thank goodness for that.
It took me a few moments to realize that Kanye ('The Dichead') West was not referring to Glenn Beck (who is also a dickhead), but someone else.
Which tells you how important the Grammies are.
.
.
.
.
.
Normally I might include an image to lighten up the essay here, just to keep readers interested. But there are no suitable illustrations for a piece that mentions Kanye West and the Grammies.
Here's a dungbeetle:
Scarabaeus viettei (syn. Madateuchus viettei, Scarabaeidae); picture taken in dry spiny forest close to Mangily, western Madagascar.
From a Wikipedia article. Photo: Axel Strauß.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
"I just know that the Grammys, if they want real artists to keep coming back, they need to stop playing with us. We ain’t gonna play with them no more. “Flawless,” Beyoncé video. And Beck needs to respect artistry and he should have given his award to Beyoncé and at this point, we tired of it. Because what happens is when you keep on diminishing art and not respecting the craft and smacking people in the face after they deliver monumental feats of music, you’re disrespectful to inspiration. And we as musicians have to inspire people who go to work every day. And they listen to that Beyoncé album and they feel like it takes them to another place. Then they do this whole promotional event, that, you know, they’ll run the music over somebody’s speech, the artist, because they want a commercial advertising. Like no, we not playing with them no more. And by the way, I got my wife, I got my daughter, and I got my clothing line so I’m not going to do nothing to put my daughter at risk — but I am here to fight for creativity. That’s the reason why I didn’t say anything tonight. But y’all know what it meant when ‘Ye walked on the stage."
---Kanye West
Source: Kanye ain't joking, article about Kanye being regrettably Kanye, in The Washington Post.
Of course my immediate reaction was: "good lord, who is this penis-head? And why is he 'famous', or even allowed to speak?"
Reason being that I deservedly sneer at most modern celebrities, and when the name 'Kanye West' first cropped up several years ago it was in connection to dickhead behaviour, and every time since then that I've heard or seen him mentioned, again, more dickhead behaviour.
Is dickhead behaviour really the basis for fame?
Sadly, this seems to be the case.
I am not famous.
But then, I am not Kanye West.
Thank goodness for that.
It took me a few moments to realize that Kanye ('The Dichead') West was not referring to Glenn Beck (who is also a dickhead), but someone else.
Which tells you how important the Grammies are.
.
.
.
.
.
Normally I might include an image to lighten up the essay here, just to keep readers interested. But there are no suitable illustrations for a piece that mentions Kanye West and the Grammies.
Here's a dungbeetle:
Scarabaeus viettei (syn. Madateuchus viettei, Scarabaeidae); picture taken in dry spiny forest close to Mangily, western Madagascar.
From a Wikipedia article. Photo: Axel Strauß.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, February 08, 2015
A COMPLETELY SELF-SERVING POST ABOUT READERS
Quote: "According to Cunningham, readers are more intelligent, due to their increased vocabulary and memory skills, along with their ability to spot patterns. They have higher cognitive functions than the average non-reader and can communicate more thoroughly and effectively."
Reaction: well sh*t yeah.
Okay, that wasn't the most literate response possible to that lovely passage, but it was heartfelt.
The next quote comes across as a little saccharine, or is it pablumish?
"You should only fall in love with someone who can see your soul. It should be someone who has reached inside you and holds those innermost parts of you no one could find before. It should be someone who doesn’t just know you, but wholly and completely understands you."
See my soul? Not so sure about that. What if they're wearing blinkers? Or aiming a gun? Anyway, my soul is probably a dark little snake-pit, with venomous creepy-crawlies scurrying about, making skittery sounds as scales rasp the ichor-stained cement underfoot.
Or under belly. Snakes don't have legs.
Besides, complete understanding of anybody is a dangerous thing; it leads to manipulation, and boredom. There should always be surprises, things that make you sit up startled, realizing that there's stuff you just never knew about the other person.
"She used to be an assassin for the Mossad? No wonder she has such depths of sensitivity! AND it explains her being so neurotically detail oriented! How wonderful!"
[Note: those examples are hypothetical.]
Love (or lust) should be reality-based.
But that's just my opinion.
I found these statements in an article that advises people to date literate folk. Which, I flatter myself, means me.
You should only date me.
Yes. Me.
Why Readers, Scientifically, Are The Best People To Fall In Love With
After reading that very brief essay -- which regrettably didn't provide pie-charts, statistics, or cite research data to back up its wonderful claims,
I feel all warm and fuzzy. Holy crap I'm lovable!
Another totally self-serving quote:
"Falling in love with a reader will enhance not just the conversation, but the level of it."
Let us, therefore, not talk about me, as I am rather shallow, and so inevitably the conversation would be short, unless it were boring and repetitive. There's not much there to thrill.
Let us talk about you.
Everybody I have ever loved had books coming out of their ears.
That includes friends, relatives, and "huggable people".
Especially objects of affection.
Warm, and fuzzy.
Books.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Reaction: well sh*t yeah.
Okay, that wasn't the most literate response possible to that lovely passage, but it was heartfelt.
The next quote comes across as a little saccharine, or is it pablumish?
"You should only fall in love with someone who can see your soul. It should be someone who has reached inside you and holds those innermost parts of you no one could find before. It should be someone who doesn’t just know you, but wholly and completely understands you."
See my soul? Not so sure about that. What if they're wearing blinkers? Or aiming a gun? Anyway, my soul is probably a dark little snake-pit, with venomous creepy-crawlies scurrying about, making skittery sounds as scales rasp the ichor-stained cement underfoot.
Or under belly. Snakes don't have legs.
Besides, complete understanding of anybody is a dangerous thing; it leads to manipulation, and boredom. There should always be surprises, things that make you sit up startled, realizing that there's stuff you just never knew about the other person.
"She used to be an assassin for the Mossad? No wonder she has such depths of sensitivity! AND it explains her being so neurotically detail oriented! How wonderful!"
[Note: those examples are hypothetical.]
Love (or lust) should be reality-based.
But that's just my opinion.
I found these statements in an article that advises people to date literate folk. Which, I flatter myself, means me.
You should only date me.
Yes. Me.
Why Readers, Scientifically, Are The Best People To Fall In Love With
After reading that very brief essay -- which regrettably didn't provide pie-charts, statistics, or cite research data to back up its wonderful claims,
I feel all warm and fuzzy. Holy crap I'm lovable!
Another totally self-serving quote:
"Falling in love with a reader will enhance not just the conversation, but the level of it."
Let us, therefore, not talk about me, as I am rather shallow, and so inevitably the conversation would be short, unless it were boring and repetitive. There's not much there to thrill.
Let us talk about you.
Everybody I have ever loved had books coming out of their ears.
That includes friends, relatives, and "huggable people".
Especially objects of affection.
Warm, and fuzzy.
Books.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
A COMPLETE WASTE OF TIME
Since the internet started dominating our lives, we humans have become more adept at frittering away the precious moments of existence than ever. Primarily by watching infantile video clips that do not add to our understanding, bring no lasting improvement, and all in all make us ashamed that we have eyes.
No, I'm not talking about Japanese girlie pop groups.
Or pantie-obsessed anime series late at night.
Not even buckets of nekkid filth.
KITTEN VIDEOS!
We've all been roped in to watch five to ten minutess of lovable furballs just being cute as the dickens. Feh! Some of us -- the little old ladies particularly -- have creamed in our gaily striped boxers shorts after clicking a link. Our lives are truly shallow, we cannot express ourselves, and we haven't bathed in days.
TEN MINUTES YOU WILL NEVER HAVE AGAIN!
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LI7-Cu-9wWM.]
I advise you not to click 'play'. It's pointless. Completely without any redeeming merits whatsoever, nay, a monumental waste of nine minutes and twenty three seconds that you will regret for hours, even days.
That was stupid.
If you are an idiot, you want more.
Very well.
IT'S NOT A WEASEL!
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dHwa9Wh8EZc.]
There. Don't you feel embarrassed?
You could scream.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
No, I'm not talking about Japanese girlie pop groups.
Or pantie-obsessed anime series late at night.
Not even buckets of nekkid filth.
KITTEN VIDEOS!
We've all been roped in to watch five to ten minutess of lovable furballs just being cute as the dickens. Feh! Some of us -- the little old ladies particularly -- have creamed in our gaily striped boxers shorts after clicking a link. Our lives are truly shallow, we cannot express ourselves, and we haven't bathed in days.
TEN MINUTES YOU WILL NEVER HAVE AGAIN!
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LI7-Cu-9wWM.]
I advise you not to click 'play'. It's pointless. Completely without any redeeming merits whatsoever, nay, a monumental waste of nine minutes and twenty three seconds that you will regret for hours, even days.
That was stupid.
If you are an idiot, you want more.
Very well.
IT'S NOT A WEASEL!
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dHwa9Wh8EZc.]
There. Don't you feel embarrassed?
You could scream.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Saturday, February 07, 2015
VISIT BIRMINGHAM!
In a spat reported by the BBC, Times writer & food critic Giles Coren said "if I'm going out of London to eat it's more productive to leave the country." This in sneering reference to the food in Birmingham, which seems to have won praise elsewhere. It turns out that there are FOUR restaurants in Birmingham that have received kudos from the Michelin guide.
London has 62 Michelin-starred restaurants.
There are five in Dublin, three in Bath, and three in Bristol.
What's almighty flabberghasting is that there are any at all.
In the British Isles.
Yes, I know. That's an undeserved sneer; Britain has come a long way since the darkness of the twentieth century, and they've learned how to cook. It IS a miracle.
Credit for that development goes to the increased availability of quality ingredients and the British penchant for travelling to warm places in the Mediterranean when on holiday. Exposure and being able to purchase a variety of excellent products inevitably inspires.
This is not your grandmother's England.
Rationing ended quite a while ago.
And the Victorians are dead.
Along with their tastes.
The BBC article referenced above is Food fight: Is there culinary life outside London?, published on the 5th of February.
It makes for some interesting reading.
"Sorry, I've eaten in its posh ones and they're not my sort of thing at all -- just a bit rubbish."
I'm sure that's quite unfair. After all, Giles Coren is British, a Londoner, and a food critic, and therefore beyond a shadow of doubt a repulsive and stuck-up twit. A frightful snob.
Every time I've been to London, I have ended up with both acid indigestion and constipation that tormented me for several days. This was entirely due to the food, because no matter how irritating the natives of a place are, they seldom affect my bowels. Londoners, while almost universally loathsome, are no more remarkable in that regard than the people of Oakland or Marin County. The next time I visit Blighty, I am resolved to travel north to Birmingham.
BIRMINGHAM, MUSLIM, FOX
Per well-publicised reports, there are an inordinate number of Pakistanis or some such in the city, to such great extent that delicate Americans fear to go there lest they be forced to eat curry. Given that our diet is largely based on ketchup and potatoes, perhaps that fear is well-founded.
Nothing, I imagine, could be worse for the standard-issue white Anglo-Saxon Protestant than a healthy diet full of flavour.
That, of course, explains our school lunch programme. After a steady routine of blah canteen food for several years, damned well everyone has acquired very white tastes.
More than our ideals and the 'Great American Dream', this holds us together, and unifies us against a world we fear and do not know.
It is the most English aspect of American civilization.
Having grown up without the blessings of either Londonian snobbism or Yankee culinary paranoia, Birmingham sounds like a fine place.
If nothing else, the Desi khanna ought to be excellent.
Nice roti-shoti: chawal, dal, aur parotha.
Obviously achar is available.
Nimbu and aam.
Laziz!
伯明翰 — 唐人街
A further curiosity, the Wing Yip grocery market chain (榮業行 'wing yip hong') was founded in Birmingham by Woon Wing Yip (葉煥榮 'Yap wun wing') in 1969. It sells edible food. For people.
There is a Chinatown there, with Cantonese restaurants and dim sum, so there must be a Chinese bakery also, as well as a chachanteng or similar place where one can get Hong Kong style milk-tea.
These are important considerata.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
There are five in Dublin, three in Bath, and three in Bristol.
What's almighty flabberghasting is that there are any at all.
In the British Isles.
Yes, I know. That's an undeserved sneer; Britain has come a long way since the darkness of the twentieth century, and they've learned how to cook. It IS a miracle.
Credit for that development goes to the increased availability of quality ingredients and the British penchant for travelling to warm places in the Mediterranean when on holiday. Exposure and being able to purchase a variety of excellent products inevitably inspires.
This is not your grandmother's England.
Rationing ended quite a while ago.
And the Victorians are dead.
Along with their tastes.
The BBC article referenced above is Food fight: Is there culinary life outside London?, published on the 5th of February.
It makes for some interesting reading.
"Sorry, I've eaten in its posh ones and they're not my sort of thing at all -- just a bit rubbish."
I'm sure that's quite unfair. After all, Giles Coren is British, a Londoner, and a food critic, and therefore beyond a shadow of doubt a repulsive and stuck-up twit. A frightful snob.
Every time I've been to London, I have ended up with both acid indigestion and constipation that tormented me for several days. This was entirely due to the food, because no matter how irritating the natives of a place are, they seldom affect my bowels. Londoners, while almost universally loathsome, are no more remarkable in that regard than the people of Oakland or Marin County. The next time I visit Blighty, I am resolved to travel north to Birmingham.
BIRMINGHAM, MUSLIM, FOX
Per well-publicised reports, there are an inordinate number of Pakistanis or some such in the city, to such great extent that delicate Americans fear to go there lest they be forced to eat curry. Given that our diet is largely based on ketchup and potatoes, perhaps that fear is well-founded.
Nothing, I imagine, could be worse for the standard-issue white Anglo-Saxon Protestant than a healthy diet full of flavour.
That, of course, explains our school lunch programme. After a steady routine of blah canteen food for several years, damned well everyone has acquired very white tastes.
More than our ideals and the 'Great American Dream', this holds us together, and unifies us against a world we fear and do not know.
It is the most English aspect of American civilization.
Having grown up without the blessings of either Londonian snobbism or Yankee culinary paranoia, Birmingham sounds like a fine place.
If nothing else, the Desi khanna ought to be excellent.
Nice roti-shoti: chawal, dal, aur parotha.
Obviously achar is available.
Nimbu and aam.
Laziz!
伯明翰 — 唐人街
A further curiosity, the Wing Yip grocery market chain (榮業行 'wing yip hong') was founded in Birmingham by Woon Wing Yip (葉煥榮 'Yap wun wing') in 1969. It sells edible food. For people.
There is a Chinatown there, with Cantonese restaurants and dim sum, so there must be a Chinese bakery also, as well as a chachanteng or similar place where one can get Hong Kong style milk-tea.
These are important considerata.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Friday, February 06, 2015
ALL KINDS OF GOOD. APPARENTLY.
As you may have noticed, food is one of my interests. Over the last few years I have mentioned it occasionally, as well as provided a recipe or two (most of which you can find here: 'Cooking with a Lizard').
A lot of the food I have talked about is Chinese food; either cooked by actual Chinese people, or Chinese inspired and Chinese-named.
Consequently, it is with some trepidation that I viewed a list of Chinese yummies compiled by white people. That is to say, white people who are not me. What the heck do white people (who are not me) know from Chinese?
FIFTEEN CHINESE THINGS TO EAT IN SF
If you click that link, it will take you directly to the list, which also has lovely food-porn pictures. Yes, go there. Drool.
In short: little Shanghai soup dumplings, noodles, egg tarts, more soup dumplings, chicken wings, pork buns, shrimp dumplings, crab, squid, hot pot, noodles, chili pepper overload, saucy chicken and stinky tofu, noodles, and mushrooms.
You will note that much of it is NOT in Chinatown. That is because Chinatown is mostly Toishanese and City Cantonese, with only a light dusting of Shanghainese, and a few other freaks.
Mostly regular working class folks.
If the list was limited strictly to what is available in San Francisco Chinatown, it would be quite different.
In no particular order: Little steamed pork dumplings, egg tarts, steamed chicken bun, wonton, small steamed chive and pork dumplings, crab, fatty pork and snow vegetable, congee, chicken wings, and noodles noodles noodles noodles noodles.
Especially noodles.
I have no issue with that list compiled by The Infatuation; it is excellent, and I respect the dedicated research from which it sprang.
I am grateful to Nick Floulis of Chubby Noodle for bringing that site to my attention, by the way. Chubby Noodle on Lombard Street is one of those places that you should go to for some really dynamite food. Every time I've eaten their stuff, I've been happy as a clam.
Please don't ask him if he's got gluten-free.
I'm sure you know what noodles are.
They're kinda glutenish.
The Infatuation has also done a list of good things in North Beach. Coffee, beer, and gluten.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
A lot of the food I have talked about is Chinese food; either cooked by actual Chinese people, or Chinese inspired and Chinese-named.
Consequently, it is with some trepidation that I viewed a list of Chinese yummies compiled by white people. That is to say, white people who are not me. What the heck do white people (who are not me) know from Chinese?
FIFTEEN CHINESE THINGS TO EAT IN SF
If you click that link, it will take you directly to the list, which also has lovely food-porn pictures. Yes, go there. Drool.
In short: little Shanghai soup dumplings, noodles, egg tarts, more soup dumplings, chicken wings, pork buns, shrimp dumplings, crab, squid, hot pot, noodles, chili pepper overload, saucy chicken and stinky tofu, noodles, and mushrooms.
You will note that much of it is NOT in Chinatown. That is because Chinatown is mostly Toishanese and City Cantonese, with only a light dusting of Shanghainese, and a few other freaks.
Mostly regular working class folks.
If the list was limited strictly to what is available in San Francisco Chinatown, it would be quite different.
In no particular order: Little steamed pork dumplings, egg tarts, steamed chicken bun, wonton, small steamed chive and pork dumplings, crab, fatty pork and snow vegetable, congee, chicken wings, and noodles noodles noodles noodles noodles.
Especially noodles.
I have no issue with that list compiled by The Infatuation; it is excellent, and I respect the dedicated research from which it sprang.
I am grateful to Nick Floulis of Chubby Noodle for bringing that site to my attention, by the way. Chubby Noodle on Lombard Street is one of those places that you should go to for some really dynamite food. Every time I've eaten their stuff, I've been happy as a clam.
Please don't ask him if he's got gluten-free.
I'm sure you know what noodles are.
They're kinda glutenish.
The Infatuation has also done a list of good things in North Beach. Coffee, beer, and gluten.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Thursday, February 05, 2015
GETTING AN EDUCATION
Today's college kids deserve full praise for going where no man should go, and doing things which are more than slightly ill-advised. Like going on drug-binges, jacking emergency vehicles, committing lewd acts of an auto-erotic nature in the police station, and snarfing wheat thins.
Many wrong things involve wheat thins. I myself have on occasion used wheat thins injudiciously, often in conjunction with processed meat of a questionable nature, or substances reputed to contain dairy products, though that material is often very far down on the list of ingredients.
Right after several chemicals I can't pronounce.
Never snarf wheat thins while whacked.
Doing so opens doors for Cthulhu.
Mustn't go there, girlfriend.
THIS A VERY DISTURBED YOUNG MAN:
Stefan Sortland, who should be sorry he did stuff.
Photo credit: Larimer County Sherriff's Office.
[Source: Ambulance theft suspect Stefan Sortland's day allegedly included drugs, lewd acts and crackers.]
Quote: "The Colorado State University student (who is) accused of stealing an ambulance and attacking deputies at the Larimer County jail says he went to a Halloween concert where he took "molly" and cocaine, according to the extensive police reports obtained by 7NEWS."
[Copyright etcetera: 7NEWS Denver, Scripps Media.]
Molly, according to Wikipedia, is "a psychoactive drug of the substituted methylenedioxyphenethylamine and substituted amphetamine classes of drugs that is consumed primarily for its euphoric and empathogenic effects. Pharmacologically, MDMA acts as a serotonin-norepinephrine-dopamine releasing agent and reuptake inhibitor", though it can also refer to "the related drugs methylone, MDPV, mephedrone or any other of the pharmacological group of compounds commonly known as bath salts".
MDMA makes you do things, odd things. One of the effects is to excite your various orificial zones, as well as relaxing inhibitions you might have. Do not pooh pooh inhibitions; they are a potent defensive mechanism.
Quote: "The ambulance had a GPS system and was tracked to the town of Loveland, 15 miles away, where officers found it in the middle of a road with heavy damage. It appeared Sortland had taken the vehicle before crashing into a sign, driving it the wrong way and bringing it to a halt after crossing a barrier."
[Source: Student solo sex act (mirror.co.uk).]
Anyhow, when the police found the vehicle that the young gentleman had "borrowed" and wrecked, he was kind of out of it and didn't cooperate. So they shot him with a stun gun, then took him back to the Loveland Police Department, where he "stood on a bench, kicked the wall, and masturbated," according to the police report.
Later he assaulted two deputies at lunch time.
He seems to have had a very active day.
No doubt it was "educational".
He's a college student.
Time to learn.
Things.
I would suggest that readers not mix 'Molly' and cocaine.
Especially not when driving an ambulance.
This is NOT university learning.
Just common sense.
And stay away from snack crackers.
They might be dangerous.
Thin thin wheat.
Cthulhu.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Many wrong things involve wheat thins. I myself have on occasion used wheat thins injudiciously, often in conjunction with processed meat of a questionable nature, or substances reputed to contain dairy products, though that material is often very far down on the list of ingredients.
Right after several chemicals I can't pronounce.
Never snarf wheat thins while whacked.
Doing so opens doors for Cthulhu.
Mustn't go there, girlfriend.
THIS A VERY DISTURBED YOUNG MAN:
Stefan Sortland, who should be sorry he did stuff.
Photo credit: Larimer County Sherriff's Office.
[Source: Ambulance theft suspect Stefan Sortland's day allegedly included drugs, lewd acts and crackers.]
Quote: "The Colorado State University student (who is) accused of stealing an ambulance and attacking deputies at the Larimer County jail says he went to a Halloween concert where he took "molly" and cocaine, according to the extensive police reports obtained by 7NEWS."
[Copyright etcetera: 7NEWS Denver, Scripps Media.]
Molly, according to Wikipedia, is "a psychoactive drug of the substituted methylenedioxyphenethylamine and substituted amphetamine classes of drugs that is consumed primarily for its euphoric and empathogenic effects. Pharmacologically, MDMA acts as a serotonin-norepinephrine-dopamine releasing agent and reuptake inhibitor", though it can also refer to "the related drugs methylone, MDPV, mephedrone or any other of the pharmacological group of compounds commonly known as bath salts".
MDMA makes you do things, odd things. One of the effects is to excite your various orificial zones, as well as relaxing inhibitions you might have. Do not pooh pooh inhibitions; they are a potent defensive mechanism.
Quote: "The ambulance had a GPS system and was tracked to the town of Loveland, 15 miles away, where officers found it in the middle of a road with heavy damage. It appeared Sortland had taken the vehicle before crashing into a sign, driving it the wrong way and bringing it to a halt after crossing a barrier."
[Source: Student solo sex act (mirror.co.uk).]
Anyhow, when the police found the vehicle that the young gentleman had "borrowed" and wrecked, he was kind of out of it and didn't cooperate. So they shot him with a stun gun, then took him back to the Loveland Police Department, where he "stood on a bench, kicked the wall, and masturbated," according to the police report.
Later he assaulted two deputies at lunch time.
He seems to have had a very active day.
No doubt it was "educational".
He's a college student.
Time to learn.
Things.
I would suggest that readers not mix 'Molly' and cocaine.
Especially not when driving an ambulance.
This is NOT university learning.
Just common sense.
And stay away from snack crackers.
They might be dangerous.
Thin thin wheat.
Cthulhu.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
REVOLTING: IT'S WHAT WE DO
It's very good to speak Cantonese. Better, in fact, than being the king, no matter what Mel Brooks says (reference to a line from a famous movie right here).
On a whim I went into the restaurant. Their menu was geared toward both large parties sharing multiple dishes and wayward tourists having ONE large dish, plus rice, and soup or an appetizer.
I am a single man. Specifically, a single diner.
"Waaall, ya know, all of this ain't suitable for just one person. Can I just get roast duck over rice?"
Apparently, of course I can. Because I'm home-town. Cost me less than what was on the menu. And it was a wonderful meal. Truly darn good.
I left a happy camper, and they want me to return.
Which I will; I want to return too.
Roast duck. Rice. Hot sauce.
Baby bokchoi.
Tea.
燒鴨飯
Earlier I had enjoyed an hour in the company of the ex-mercenary. Apparently they eat beans and rice in Brazilian prisons. Or rice and beans. And cat; if you can afford it.
It's anyway far better than being executed in Ghana.
Screw Brazil. It's a pox-ridden hell-hole.
Argentina is not one iota better.
Corruption and clap.
Stench.
Lunch and midnight snack: Genovan salami and Oxford marmalade on sourdough. I had run out of mayonnaise.
I've still got some dried duck.
Just saying.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
On a whim I went into the restaurant. Their menu was geared toward both large parties sharing multiple dishes and wayward tourists having ONE large dish, plus rice, and soup or an appetizer.
I am a single man. Specifically, a single diner.
"Waaall, ya know, all of this ain't suitable for just one person. Can I just get roast duck over rice?"
Apparently, of course I can. Because I'm home-town. Cost me less than what was on the menu. And it was a wonderful meal. Truly darn good.
I left a happy camper, and they want me to return.
Which I will; I want to return too.
Roast duck. Rice. Hot sauce.
Baby bokchoi.
Tea.
燒鴨飯
Earlier I had enjoyed an hour in the company of the ex-mercenary. Apparently they eat beans and rice in Brazilian prisons. Or rice and beans. And cat; if you can afford it.
It's anyway far better than being executed in Ghana.
Screw Brazil. It's a pox-ridden hell-hole.
Argentina is not one iota better.
Corruption and clap.
Stench.
Lunch and midnight snack: Genovan salami and Oxford marmalade on sourdough. I had run out of mayonnaise.
I've still got some dried duck.
Just saying.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Wednesday, February 04, 2015
BRIEF PUBLIC NUDITY
In what is scheduled to become a recurring yearly event, four diehard exhibitionists protested in the nude against San Francisco's ordinance prohibiting public nakedness, and three of them got arrested, this past Sunday.
There are times when I'm glad I work in Marin.
I do not approve of middle-aged nudity unless it's me.
Even less of being so in public.
Yes, I'll gladly admit that prancing in the buff is refreshing -- especially given the summer-like weather we've been having this year -- but the last thing anyone else needs to see is middle-aged nakedness.
Again, the exception, in my mind, is me.
MILWAUKEE, WITH BETTER WEATHER
It's the second anniversary of the ban on public nudity. Something which only fanatics about exhibiting their naked flab would remember, seeing as almost everyone else, including me, has a healthy sense of modesty.
Not so the three determined obscenitists.
One of whom is also a recidivist.
Quote:
"George Davis, a veteran public nudity protester, decried what he described as the changing San Francisco culture and blamed on “too many new people coming into San Francisco all at once.”"
End quote.
I have absolutely NO objection to accidental nudity if it is by a person whom I would wish to see naked, oh boy. But the plain fact of the matter is that this excludes most people, who are unknown, and therefore uninteresting.
Without a personal connection, it's just embarrassing.
The right of choice rests on the viewer.
Not on the egotripper without a stitch.
I am, consequently, pleased to report that in dealing with the unwanted and unwantable exposure, tarpaulins and rubber gloves were employed. Precautionarily.
Personally, I would have thought electric cattle prods would also have been appropriate, but it is rather doubtful that the SFPD could have made a valid argument for that. Naked middle-aged people are not particularly dangerous and threatening, no matter how unappetising they may be.
Possibly excepting myself.
According to George Davis, the habitual offender mentioned above, "this city is turning into Milwaukee with better weather."
Kindly f*ck off, George. You're a loony.
No one wants your opinion.
AFTERWORD
Please note that this post was written while clothed. No nudity by this author was involved, or implied. I'm wearing a pair of trousers, freshly clean from laundering, a plaid shirt, spectacles, and shoes.
With appropriate socks and undergarments.
I am not wearing a watch.
Please do not imagine anything else.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
I do not approve of middle-aged nudity unless it's me.
Even less of being so in public.
Yes, I'll gladly admit that prancing in the buff is refreshing -- especially given the summer-like weather we've been having this year -- but the last thing anyone else needs to see is middle-aged nakedness.
Again, the exception, in my mind, is me.
MILWAUKEE, WITH BETTER WEATHER
It's the second anniversary of the ban on public nudity. Something which only fanatics about exhibiting their naked flab would remember, seeing as almost everyone else, including me, has a healthy sense of modesty.
Not so the three determined obscenitists.
One of whom is also a recidivist.
Quote:
"George Davis, a veteran public nudity protester, decried what he described as the changing San Francisco culture and blamed on “too many new people coming into San Francisco all at once.”"
End quote.
I have absolutely NO objection to accidental nudity if it is by a person whom I would wish to see naked, oh boy. But the plain fact of the matter is that this excludes most people, who are unknown, and therefore uninteresting.
Without a personal connection, it's just embarrassing.
The right of choice rests on the viewer.
Not on the egotripper without a stitch.
I am, consequently, pleased to report that in dealing with the unwanted and unwantable exposure, tarpaulins and rubber gloves were employed. Precautionarily.
Personally, I would have thought electric cattle prods would also have been appropriate, but it is rather doubtful that the SFPD could have made a valid argument for that. Naked middle-aged people are not particularly dangerous and threatening, no matter how unappetising they may be.
Possibly excepting myself.
According to George Davis, the habitual offender mentioned above, "this city is turning into Milwaukee with better weather."
Kindly f*ck off, George. You're a loony.
No one wants your opinion.
AFTERWORD
Please note that this post was written while clothed. No nudity by this author was involved, or implied. I'm wearing a pair of trousers, freshly clean from laundering, a plaid shirt, spectacles, and shoes.
With appropriate socks and undergarments.
I am not wearing a watch.
Please do not imagine anything else.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
NO BAD HABITS TO SPEAK OF
My ex is depressed and obsessed. She broke up with old whatsisbucket (again) around Christmas, and misses the dumbass.
Yet she admits that the relationship was queer as hell.
Wisely, I am keeping my mouth shut.
The bloke is "likable".
Sort of.
And, seeing as my role, as I see it, is to provide calmness and stability in the operatic life of a woman who is still my apartment mate, whom I appreciate as a good close friend of many years standing, it probably behooves me to not get too involved in her emotional turmoil.
Probably best for me too.
Aside from which, there is the entertainment value to consider. She expresses herself well -- eloquently and with vigour -- although at times by voicing the personalities of the stuffed creatures in both our rooms.
It's a way of reflecting the extremes.
I am, if anything, an opportunist.
She doesn't understand that my peculiarities are, in fact, not acceptable in the modern world.
The other evening she asked me what I was doing with an old dead fish (鹹魚 'haahm yü'; a dried croaker). And, she inquired with great curiosity, would the result be food?
Why indeed yes. This is a fermented dried fish, which when softened and cut, then steamed with chunked fatty pork (which was first seethed in oil for colour and flavour), ginger, garlic, sherry, a pinch of sugar, and a thin-sliced green chili, will be absolutely scrumptious!
And great with rice!
A woman who finds this both understandable and fascinating is rare indeed. Many of the people I know would be repulsed, and vocalize insultingly about meat, dried fish, strong flavours, allergies, and my politically incorrect dining habits.
Then they would harangue me, on a near-daily basis, about cultural appropriation, the marvelous benefits of marijuana or soy-free tofu, sustainable farming, third-world spirituality, broccoli, and yoga.
Besides bitching and belly-aching about most of my genuine bad habits: tobacco, grumbling, snarling at young idiots on the bus, acrylics and woodworking in the kitchen or the teevee room, book acquisition disorder, stinking up the house by cooking.....
And finish by sneering at the Dutch.
Or other "other" cultures.
One further factor deserves full mention: she has an attention to both detail and her responsibilities to the other people in her life which is extraordinary.
Not many people in this world have that.
She just doesn't have a boyfriend.
Which is stressing her out.
Not me, though.
I'm fine.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Yet she admits that the relationship was queer as hell.
Wisely, I am keeping my mouth shut.
The bloke is "likable".
Sort of.
And, seeing as my role, as I see it, is to provide calmness and stability in the operatic life of a woman who is still my apartment mate, whom I appreciate as a good close friend of many years standing, it probably behooves me to not get too involved in her emotional turmoil.
Probably best for me too.
Aside from which, there is the entertainment value to consider. She expresses herself well -- eloquently and with vigour -- although at times by voicing the personalities of the stuffed creatures in both our rooms.
It's a way of reflecting the extremes.
I am, if anything, an opportunist.
She doesn't understand that my peculiarities are, in fact, not acceptable in the modern world.
The other evening she asked me what I was doing with an old dead fish (鹹魚 'haahm yü'; a dried croaker). And, she inquired with great curiosity, would the result be food?
Why indeed yes. This is a fermented dried fish, which when softened and cut, then steamed with chunked fatty pork (which was first seethed in oil for colour and flavour), ginger, garlic, sherry, a pinch of sugar, and a thin-sliced green chili, will be absolutely scrumptious!
And great with rice!
A woman who finds this both understandable and fascinating is rare indeed. Many of the people I know would be repulsed, and vocalize insultingly about meat, dried fish, strong flavours, allergies, and my politically incorrect dining habits.
Then they would harangue me, on a near-daily basis, about cultural appropriation, the marvelous benefits of marijuana or soy-free tofu, sustainable farming, third-world spirituality, broccoli, and yoga.
Besides bitching and belly-aching about most of my genuine bad habits: tobacco, grumbling, snarling at young idiots on the bus, acrylics and woodworking in the kitchen or the teevee room, book acquisition disorder, stinking up the house by cooking.....
And finish by sneering at the Dutch.
Or other "other" cultures.
One further factor deserves full mention: she has an attention to both detail and her responsibilities to the other people in her life which is extraordinary.
Not many people in this world have that.
She just doesn't have a boyfriend.
Which is stressing her out.
Not me, though.
I'm fine.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Tuesday, February 03, 2015
MOAZ AL KASASBEH
Today the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria killed a captured Jordanian pilot in a brutal and horrific fashion.
Aside from their own personal culpability in this despicable act, blame must also be cast at others.
Pakistanis, Saudi princes, Kuwaiti and Qatari sheikhs, and Palestine-sympathisant radicals in Berkeley, Europe, and the Middle East also bear a large degree of responsibility, as well as several American citizens, most especially including a certain United States Senator, whose vocal, partisan, and severely misguided encouragement and support for the rebels fighting Syria's Bashar Al Assad helped create a climate in which the usual funders and enablers of terrorism among the Arabs and Pakistanis saw both approval and opportunity.
[Note that the ISIS terrorists are largely foreign to both Syria and Iraq, coming from Europe, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Libya, Turkey, Central Asia, Chechnya, Afghanistan, Pakistan, and elsewhere. Mostly they represent the psychopathic layer, who in their home countries would express themselves by misogyny, violent crime, and thuggery. This does not absolve their families and supporters; it merely explains who and what they are.]
Turkey, of course, deserves especial opprobrium.
ISIS is the illegitimate bastard of the AK.
I would also suggest that Jordan would do well to brutally root out all extremists, both among their own population as well as the refugees (whether long resident or recent arrival).
There are a number of people in Jordan who, in a just universe, should see the business end of a gun as their last sight on earth.
King Abdullah deserves our moral support.
Pray for a 'Black February'.
Executing Sajida al-Rishawi and Ziyad Karboli is a good start.
But it is only a first step.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Pakistanis, Saudi princes, Kuwaiti and Qatari sheikhs, and Palestine-sympathisant radicals in Berkeley, Europe, and the Middle East also bear a large degree of responsibility, as well as several American citizens, most especially including a certain United States Senator, whose vocal, partisan, and severely misguided encouragement and support for the rebels fighting Syria's Bashar Al Assad helped create a climate in which the usual funders and enablers of terrorism among the Arabs and Pakistanis saw both approval and opportunity.
[Note that the ISIS terrorists are largely foreign to both Syria and Iraq, coming from Europe, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Libya, Turkey, Central Asia, Chechnya, Afghanistan, Pakistan, and elsewhere. Mostly they represent the psychopathic layer, who in their home countries would express themselves by misogyny, violent crime, and thuggery. This does not absolve their families and supporters; it merely explains who and what they are.]
Turkey, of course, deserves especial opprobrium.
ISIS is the illegitimate bastard of the AK.
I would also suggest that Jordan would do well to brutally root out all extremists, both among their own population as well as the refugees (whether long resident or recent arrival).
There are a number of people in Jordan who, in a just universe, should see the business end of a gun as their last sight on earth.
King Abdullah deserves our moral support.
Pray for a 'Black February'.
Executing Sajida al-Rishawi and Ziyad Karboli is a good start.
But it is only a first step.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
SMOKE AT BOTH ENDS
Here it is, Tuesday morning, a work day, and I woke up regretting my intemperate behaviour last night. No, it has nothing to do with booze. Though being a pipe smoker, right now would be the only time I could truly appreciate a fine single malt, seeing as by evening my tastebuds have usually had a work out.
I don't drink until night-fall, in case you were wondering.
But the first pipe is before lunch time.
Almost always.
After a hot cuppa milk-tea at a bakery in Chinatown late yesterday afternoon, I wandered around smoking a bowlful of spuncut.
Thoughts:
"My heavens, that little girl sure is cute!"
[Especially by contrast with her haggard old grandfather.]
"Two old ladies should NOT be screaming over a card game."
[Younger people also use this park; what kind of horrid example are you two setting?]
"He looks like a loony; avoid eye-contact."
[Many white people in Chinatown are off-kilter, and possible psycho.]
Ended up at City Lights Bookstore, and browsed.
Thoughts:
"Good lord what pretentious garbage!"
[Beat poets, Bukowski, and the entire gender studies section.]
"Sh*t, nothing but the usual sh*tty translations by artistic sh*theads!"
[Chinese poetry shape-shifted into English, without the original texts for comparison; heck, they could put down anything and claim "it's Chinese Poetry, dude!", and who the hell would know any better?]
"Bollocks!"
[General reaction to a lot of very intellectual stuff.]
After not buying anything at the bookstore, I went to a new dumpling place that recently opened. This man seriously loves dumplings. Sometimes there's nothing finer than little dough pockets filled with a juicy mixture of meat and vegetables, all hot and beguiling from the kitchen.
Hand me my chopsticks, I need to eat.
Thoughts:
"The name says North, what the two waitresses are speaking says South."
[The Cantonese language.]
"These dumplings are darn good!"
[Chive and pork dumplings.]
"Well crap! The skewered lamb is just wunnerful too!"
[Hot greasy goodness, with cumin.]
"Wow."
[Gau choi chu yiuk gaau ji, kou yeung yiuk chuen, dou leung go hou mei hou sik ge woh!]
韭菜豬肉餃子、烤羊肉串、都兩個好味好食嘅喎！
Now here's the problem: I like my dumplings with chili sauce.
Same with skewered tender lamb.
I probably overdid it.
Just a bit.
My insides may be in disagreement with my head today.
In fact, I think that is inevitable.
Probably shouldn't have snacked on the Italian cured meat products (two kinds) when I got home either.
After another pipe-full.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
I don't drink until night-fall, in case you were wondering.
But the first pipe is before lunch time.
Almost always.
After a hot cuppa milk-tea at a bakery in Chinatown late yesterday afternoon, I wandered around smoking a bowlful of spuncut.
Thoughts:
"My heavens, that little girl sure is cute!"
[Especially by contrast with her haggard old grandfather.]
"Two old ladies should NOT be screaming over a card game."
[Younger people also use this park; what kind of horrid example are you two setting?]
"He looks like a loony; avoid eye-contact."
[Many white people in Chinatown are off-kilter, and possible psycho.]
Ended up at City Lights Bookstore, and browsed.
Thoughts:
"Good lord what pretentious garbage!"
[Beat poets, Bukowski, and the entire gender studies section.]
"Sh*t, nothing but the usual sh*tty translations by artistic sh*theads!"
[Chinese poetry shape-shifted into English, without the original texts for comparison; heck, they could put down anything and claim "it's Chinese Poetry, dude!", and who the hell would know any better?]
"Bollocks!"
[General reaction to a lot of very intellectual stuff.]
After not buying anything at the bookstore, I went to a new dumpling place that recently opened. This man seriously loves dumplings. Sometimes there's nothing finer than little dough pockets filled with a juicy mixture of meat and vegetables, all hot and beguiling from the kitchen.
Hand me my chopsticks, I need to eat.
Thoughts:
"The name says North, what the two waitresses are speaking says South."
[The Cantonese language.]
"These dumplings are darn good!"
[Chive and pork dumplings.]
"Well crap! The skewered lamb is just wunnerful too!"
[Hot greasy goodness, with cumin.]
"Wow."
[Gau choi chu yiuk gaau ji, kou yeung yiuk chuen, dou leung go hou mei hou sik ge woh!]
韭菜豬肉餃子、烤羊肉串、都兩個好味好食嘅喎！
Now here's the problem: I like my dumplings with chili sauce.
Same with skewered tender lamb.
I probably overdid it.
Just a bit.
My insides may be in disagreement with my head today.
In fact, I think that is inevitable.
Probably shouldn't have snacked on the Italian cured meat products (two kinds) when I got home either.
After another pipe-full.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Monday, February 02, 2015
MEN WHO LIVE IN BASEMENTS
Over on the East-Coast, a gentleman who probably lives in his mother's basement, and equally probably will deservedly remain a bachelor all his life, posted a youtube video which shows that schizophrenics, despite everything else, are NOT loveable little fubsy orphans whom you would wish to coddle and nurture. At least, not ALL of them.
Some of them are slightly problematic.
In a very minor sort of way.
Yes, no doubt a few of them loyally join the local police force and club unruly citizens with open mouths, which is so adorable oh my gosh.
That is probably worth it for the municipalities that hired them, if only for the strict public order and entertainment it provides...
Some municipalities are easily entertained; one suspects a high level of unemployability there.
Or they become firemen, and get distracted by visions of the Virgin Mary after smoke-inhalation.
But a number of them live in their mothers' basements, and will remain bachelors all their days.
Have pity on the mothers.
Warning: Ancient Anglo-Saxon terms ("words of POWER") are used in the video below, which neither your coworkers (nor your mom) would like to hear blasting at top volume from your cubicle (or basement, or jail cell). Please be forewarned.
THIS IS MY "BLESSED" CAR!
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYPC-YMdJFI.]
It's actually his mom's car.
A full account of this gentleman's recent misfortune is presented on Jezebel, in this article: 'Bizzare'.
As Jezebel explains: "There's a cruel and mocking entry on the "parody" site Encyclopedia Dramatica about Connors, detailing his long history of strange claims and his fondness for appearing in his YouTube videos brandishing a knife featuring the Marines' "Semper Fi" motto and, occasionally, an Airsoft (replica) gun styled to look like a Desert Eagle pistol."
NOTE: Be hesitant about clicking on the embedded link in that quote, as the Encyclopedia Dramatica page might be infected.
The gentleman, who probably lives in his mom's basement (or garage, the one with the automatic door, on which there is an ultra-macho mural), and will no-doubt stay single forever ("devotion to the cause") himself explains: "I cant (stet) discuss my location due to the extreme level of threat right now. Brianna's agents have proven to be extremely dangerous and crafty, predicting my moves ahead of time EVEN when I did not tell anyone, such as the Armed assailants that Tampered with my vehicle or perhaps SNIPED OUT MY TIRES From a water tower or similar vantage point, Such as similarly "All Ghillied Up" the Mission in COD4 Where you scope out Zakhaev."
He says that in response to a comment underneath his public service announcement on youtube. Which, btw, is a website created by our lizard alien overlords to sap our manly juices.
He's a street-racing god.
I myself am an innocent in the world of the internet, which I recently became aware of thanks to the kind intervention of people far older and wiser. I have only been exposed to informational articles for maybe one or two years now, but I am pleasantly surprised by all the valuable things to know that are presented there. Shocking stuff. Especially the dark hole over the sun, the alien shape-shifters guarding the President, the Glenn Beck coverup of the Bilderberg plot to take over the world, the plan by patriotic Americans to put assault rifles into everyone's home, which the traitors in congress and a Kenyan plant wish to abort, and all the other dangers that the authorities hide from us.
We have abundant reason to be fearful.
The internet tells us how.
That last youtube video is a real doozie, by the way.
Alex Jones was vaccinated as a child.
It made him insane.
A plot!
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Some of them are slightly problematic.
In a very minor sort of way.
Yes, no doubt a few of them loyally join the local police force and club unruly citizens with open mouths, which is so adorable oh my gosh.
That is probably worth it for the municipalities that hired them, if only for the strict public order and entertainment it provides...
Some municipalities are easily entertained; one suspects a high level of unemployability there.
Or they become firemen, and get distracted by visions of the Virgin Mary after smoke-inhalation.
But a number of them live in their mothers' basements, and will remain bachelors all their days.
Have pity on the mothers.
Warning: Ancient Anglo-Saxon terms ("words of POWER") are used in the video below, which neither your coworkers (nor your mom) would like to hear blasting at top volume from your cubicle (or basement, or jail cell). Please be forewarned.
THIS IS MY "BLESSED" CAR!
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYPC-YMdJFI.]
It's actually his mom's car.
A full account of this gentleman's recent misfortune is presented on Jezebel, in this article: 'Bizzare'.
As Jezebel explains: "There's a cruel and mocking entry on the "parody" site Encyclopedia Dramatica about Connors, detailing his long history of strange claims and his fondness for appearing in his YouTube videos brandishing a knife featuring the Marines' "Semper Fi" motto and, occasionally, an Airsoft (replica) gun styled to look like a Desert Eagle pistol."
NOTE: Be hesitant about clicking on the embedded link in that quote, as the Encyclopedia Dramatica page might be infected.
The gentleman, who probably lives in his mom's basement (or garage, the one with the automatic door, on which there is an ultra-macho mural), and will no-doubt stay single forever ("devotion to the cause") himself explains: "I cant (stet) discuss my location due to the extreme level of threat right now. Brianna's agents have proven to be extremely dangerous and crafty, predicting my moves ahead of time EVEN when I did not tell anyone, such as the Armed assailants that Tampered with my vehicle or perhaps SNIPED OUT MY TIRES From a water tower or similar vantage point, Such as similarly "All Ghillied Up" the Mission in COD4 Where you scope out Zakhaev."
He says that in response to a comment underneath his public service announcement on youtube. Which, btw, is a website created by our lizard alien overlords to sap our manly juices.
He's a street-racing god.
I myself am an innocent in the world of the internet, which I recently became aware of thanks to the kind intervention of people far older and wiser. I have only been exposed to informational articles for maybe one or two years now, but I am pleasantly surprised by all the valuable things to know that are presented there. Shocking stuff. Especially the dark hole over the sun, the alien shape-shifters guarding the President, the Glenn Beck coverup of the Bilderberg plot to take over the world, the plan by patriotic Americans to put assault rifles into everyone's home, which the traitors in congress and a Kenyan plant wish to abort, and all the other dangers that the authorities hide from us.
We have abundant reason to be fearful.
The internet tells us how.
That last youtube video is a real doozie, by the way.
Alex Jones was vaccinated as a child.
It made him insane.
A plot!
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
I AM BLESSED!
Thanks to someone on Facebook, I now know of a religious persuasion even more off the wall disconnected than the Westboro Baptist Church. It's a website devoted to Christian sportswear, opposition to the goddess of victory, and calling Kevin Durant evil.
Who the heck is Kevin Durant? Apparently he's the star athlete of the OKC Thunder. Which, like him, I had never heard of before.
As a sample of the joys on that website, I present the following:
[Begin cite]
HOW EVIL IS NIKE?
In addition to breaking the first commandment of God and being named in honor of the pagan goddess Nike (the swoosh represents the wing of that goddess/demon)...
1. NIKE is one of the most vocal corporate advocates for abortion in America.
2. NIKE fully embraces the homosexual, bisexual and transgender political and social agenda in the workplace and beyond, and advocates for same-sex marriage - creating a PAC fund to donate $280,000 to the current effort in Oregon to redefine the institution away from the biblical male-female relationship.
3. NIKE does not use the word “Christmas” in its seasonal promotions.
[SOURCE: http://townofloveokc.publishpath.com/.]
That all sounds pretty damned good to me. I too am a vocal advocate for corporate abortion, believing that much that is walking around in public today would have better been not born. And while fully embracing the homosexual, bisexual, and transgender political and social lifestyle is NOT something I do, preferring instead to merely accept them as my brothers, sisters, and confused entitities in Christ OR not in Christ, whatever their personal preference -- or Moses, or Mohammed, or Pan and Dionysus -- supporting a fair portion of equality in this world is on the whole a rather decent thing. Just do it.
As regards the word "Christmas", that too is something I seldom use during seasonal promotions. Instead I employ it far more often for snark or barf texts.
By the way, If Jesus never existed, as is almost certainly the case, the nutzoid fringe would have to invent him.
Anyhow, I thoroughly encourage you to browse around that site. It has all the characteristics which in years past you would expect on vans owned by obsessed people, including texts that cannot be understood, typefaces and sizes selected at random, illustrations with superimposed markings, and wild-assertions.
Years ago, when you saw one of those on the streets of San Francisco, you were at least assured that the owner was too far out and berserk to have rigged the inside as a torture dungeon.
It was, somehow, reassuring.
A wild-eyed freak.
Not a sadist.
Praise the load.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Who the heck is Kevin Durant? Apparently he's the star athlete of the OKC Thunder. Which, like him, I had never heard of before.
As a sample of the joys on that website, I present the following:
[Begin cite]
HOW EVIL IS NIKE?
In addition to breaking the first commandment of God and being named in honor of the pagan goddess Nike (the swoosh represents the wing of that goddess/demon)...
1. NIKE is one of the most vocal corporate advocates for abortion in America.
2. NIKE fully embraces the homosexual, bisexual and transgender political and social agenda in the workplace and beyond, and advocates for same-sex marriage - creating a PAC fund to donate $280,000 to the current effort in Oregon to redefine the institution away from the biblical male-female relationship.
3. NIKE does not use the word “Christmas” in its seasonal promotions.
[SOURCE: http://townofloveokc.publishpath.com/.]
That all sounds pretty damned good to me. I too am a vocal advocate for corporate abortion, believing that much that is walking around in public today would have better been not born. And while fully embracing the homosexual, bisexual, and transgender political and social lifestyle is NOT something I do, preferring instead to merely accept them as my brothers, sisters, and confused entitities in Christ OR not in Christ, whatever their personal preference -- or Moses, or Mohammed, or Pan and Dionysus -- supporting a fair portion of equality in this world is on the whole a rather decent thing. Just do it.
As regards the word "Christmas", that too is something I seldom use during seasonal promotions. Instead I employ it far more often for snark or barf texts.
By the way, If Jesus never existed, as is almost certainly the case, the nutzoid fringe would have to invent him.
Anyhow, I thoroughly encourage you to browse around that site. It has all the characteristics which in years past you would expect on vans owned by obsessed people, including texts that cannot be understood, typefaces and sizes selected at random, illustrations with superimposed markings, and wild-assertions.
Years ago, when you saw one of those on the streets of San Francisco, you were at least assured that the owner was too far out and berserk to have rigged the inside as a torture dungeon.
It was, somehow, reassuring.
A wild-eyed freak.
Not a sadist.
Praise the load.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, February 01, 2015
DEMOCALYPSE NOW
This blogger doesn't often offer political content, because some of my readers are Republicans, who are sensitive (justifiable so), and might desert me in outrage.
Or something. I do not wish to offend, I'm all about harmony.
And normally I don't draw attention to John Stewart, because as everybody knows he's a rabid anti-Israeli activist worse than the New York Times, who hates America and agendizes for the great Zionist conspiracy to seize control of the United States Government.
Wait, what?!?!?!?
Anyhow, here are some details: Iowa Freedom Summit.
SAUSAGES ARE DAMNED GOOD!
[SOURCE: http://thedailyshow.cc.com/videos/k42ti0/democalypse-2016---fox-news-correspondent-auditions.]
Bow down and worship, Republicans.
These are your new masters.
THE STATUS QUO
Just for funsies, I typed some search criteria and hit search.
Here are the results.
Obama not christian: About 187,000,000 results (0.43 seconds)
Obama Muslim: About 117,000,000 results (0.44 seconds)
Obama new world order: About 95,200,000 results (0.46 seconds)
Obama United Nations Control: About 27,000,000 results (0.46 seconds)
Obama anti-israel: About 19,700,000 results (0.45 seconds)
Obama illuminati: About 12,600,000 results (0.32 seconds)
Obama Satan: About 12,300,000 results (0.34 seconds)
Obama anti-christian: About 11,400,000 results (0.50 seconds)
Obama secret agenda: About 9,280,000 results (0.49 seconds)
Obama martial law: About 3,640,000 results (0.41 seconds)
Dang, some of you ;Republica..., Retar..., Christia..., Southerne..., folks in Iowa, Alaska..., "Teapots" are stupid.
Shallow end of the gene puddle, huh?
Step away from your cousin.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Or something. I do not wish to offend, I'm all about harmony.
And normally I don't draw attention to John Stewart, because as everybody knows he's a rabid anti-Israeli activist worse than the New York Times, who hates America and agendizes for the great Zionist conspiracy to seize control of the United States Government.
Wait, what?!?!?!?
Anyhow, here are some details: Iowa Freedom Summit.
SAUSAGES ARE DAMNED GOOD!
[SOURCE: http://thedailyshow.cc.com/videos/k42ti0/democalypse-2016---fox-news-correspondent-auditions.]
Bow down and worship, Republicans.
These are your new masters.
THE STATUS QUO
Just for funsies, I typed some search criteria and hit search.
Here are the results.
Obama not christian: About 187,000,000 results (0.43 seconds)
Obama Muslim: About 117,000,000 results (0.44 seconds)
Obama new world order: About 95,200,000 results (0.46 seconds)
Obama United Nations Control: About 27,000,000 results (0.46 seconds)
Obama anti-israel: About 19,700,000 results (0.45 seconds)
Obama illuminati: About 12,600,000 results (0.32 seconds)
Obama Satan: About 12,300,000 results (0.34 seconds)
Obama anti-christian: About 11,400,000 results (0.50 seconds)
Obama secret agenda: About 9,280,000 results (0.49 seconds)
Obama martial law: About 3,640,000 results (0.41 seconds)
Dang, some of you ;
Shallow end of the gene puddle, huh?
Step away from your cousin.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
THE CAT DISAPPROVES
Somehow I feel that the cat disapproves of the entire cock-up humanity has made of things. And please note: the cat is figmantary, he doesn...
