Last week was my birthday. I turned fifty. I have officially joined the ranks of geezers. Or, as some might say, I am now an old fart.
That makes me feel like Portnoy in Bloom County, when he turned seven years old.
I am still very very liberal. Honestly. I can dance.
GEEZERTUDE
Let us make a list, shall we?
Gout. Arthritic joints. Partial deafness. Bile. Grump. Smell.
These are all ailments that I already have. Yep, I'm old.
Boruch Hashem I don't have 'Old Man's Penis'.
[Old Man's Penis is when you think you've finished micturating, and just when you've zipped up your fly, there's another sudden dribble. "Oh darn it", you say, "these pants were clean, I was planning to wear them for several more weeks....... perhaps no one will notice".]
The gout affects my right foot primarily, and is caused by various things - most notably a man-size portion of gehakte leber.
The arthritic joints are probably due to growing up in a bog.
Partial deafness is a blessing. Trust me.
Bile is an attitude, an outlook, and a way of life.
Grump is the natural result of gout, arthritic joints, partial deafness, and bile.
The SMELL is tobacco. If you don't like it, don't breathe.
[Who told you you could breathe? I didn't tell you you could breathe. What makes you think you can breathe? Stop it. Shut up. Now go.]
I mention all this, because birthdays were recently discussed on two other blogs.
THE ANGSTIGE INEXORABILITY OF IT ALL
Snooky Wong ('Death By Noodles') mentioned having cake for a friend's birthday. She loves cake.
http://deathbynoodles.blogspot.com/2009/10/cake.html
The friend was apparently someone in much better physical shape than myself.
To quote:
"So how old IS he? About fifty five? Sixty? He still LOOKS vibrant and vigorous - must be all that rich sweetened butter cream filling his joints. And the fruit. Fruit is healthy."
Young lady, I am not entirely pleased that you know some old geezer who still looks vibrant and vigorous, someone who is clearly in better shape than myself. He's that old that he should look decrepit and slightly seedy. It's only proper.
Stephanie 周 ('Infectious Asian') happily gloats about the gifts she got from her uncles. Lots of books. An eclectic selection.
http://infectiousasian.blogspot.com/2009/10/make-out-like-bandit.html
Her mother did not give her books, however.
Quote:"Ma gave me a brassiere. Tres femmy.
I CAN'T WAIT TO SHOW IT OFF! THANKS, MA!"
Well now.
Did I mention that I have a good eye? A keen ability to aesthetically appreciate all of the good lord's creations?
Proportion, youthful skin hue, delicate terminations of the appendages, gazelle-like poise and grace - these are all things I know well, and about which I can discourse informatively.
Also, I'm still amazingly vibrant and vigorous. Honestly. And very very liberal.
Did I mention my birthday?
I can dance.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
THIS PLACE SMELLS!
Everyone seems to be bellyaching about the humidity. These San Franciscans, they are uncomfortable when the air is moist. Warm and moist.
And yet they claim that the air here is more humid than many other places.
They're not fully in tune with reality. This place is normally dry as a mummy. California is a desert. Even San Francisco.
The Netherlands is quite otherwise. So is South East Asia. Things smell different there.
For the past three days I have been remembering odours.
Landing at Manila Airport (wet and rotten), the room where I slept in the house in Makati (faint hint of incense - Auntie H. burned sandalwood there everyday to mask the horrid pong of white person) and also the hallway from the dining room to the back of the house (camphor, green soap, and mildew).
The kitchen too, of course - it smelled very Chinesey.
The intersection in Binondo where we wrecked the jeep (machine oil, fear, and something very rotten), Ongpin Street (El Presidente Restaurant - clams in blackbean sauce, eels braised in rice wine, kangkong with bago'ong and garlic), the bakery along the estero near Benavidez (spilled tea, hot butter, and something fishy).
Isaw na babui grilling near the bridge - sweet and meaty!
Also copra on the boat from Balinguan, rain outside the stilt village, the inside of the warehouse in Cagayan (smoke, tar, rubber), and mr. Dee's house in Mambajao.
Durian, of course, and dried fish (daing). Salty ferments. Stale sweetness. Spilled condiments and strange fires.
At night, smouldering katol.
I shall not mention the burning canefields, or the grass square outside of the school buildings where the PC interrogated captured NPA.
EDIBLE - OF COURSE!
Mostly, the smell-memories are tropic, and induce hunger. And perhaps part of that has to do with what I cooked for dinner last Sunday: Chicken Adobo (chicken chunks in a soy and vinegar gravy with garlic and peppercorns), steamed fatty pork with shredded ginger and fish paste on bruised lemon grass, braised long beans with mild yellow curry and red chilies. Plus various vegetable accompaniments. There was a touch of stinky fish-product in everything. The kitchen smelled like a Philippino flop-house afterwards.
I wish there were a place around here where I could get tapsilog for lunch. Not too hep on Jollibee, though. It lacks that auntie touch.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
And yet they claim that the air here is more humid than many other places.
They're not fully in tune with reality. This place is normally dry as a mummy. California is a desert. Even San Francisco.
The Netherlands is quite otherwise. So is South East Asia. Things smell different there.
For the past three days I have been remembering odours.
Landing at Manila Airport (wet and rotten), the room where I slept in the house in Makati (faint hint of incense - Auntie H. burned sandalwood there everyday to mask the horrid pong of white person) and also the hallway from the dining room to the back of the house (camphor, green soap, and mildew).
The kitchen too, of course - it smelled very Chinesey.
The intersection in Binondo where we wrecked the jeep (machine oil, fear, and something very rotten), Ongpin Street (El Presidente Restaurant - clams in blackbean sauce, eels braised in rice wine, kangkong with bago'ong and garlic), the bakery along the estero near Benavidez (spilled tea, hot butter, and something fishy).
Isaw na babui grilling near the bridge - sweet and meaty!
Also copra on the boat from Balinguan, rain outside the stilt village, the inside of the warehouse in Cagayan (smoke, tar, rubber), and mr. Dee's house in Mambajao.
Durian, of course, and dried fish (daing). Salty ferments. Stale sweetness. Spilled condiments and strange fires.
At night, smouldering katol.
I shall not mention the burning canefields, or the grass square outside of the school buildings where the PC interrogated captured NPA.
EDIBLE - OF COURSE!
Mostly, the smell-memories are tropic, and induce hunger. And perhaps part of that has to do with what I cooked for dinner last Sunday: Chicken Adobo (chicken chunks in a soy and vinegar gravy with garlic and peppercorns), steamed fatty pork with shredded ginger and fish paste on bruised lemon grass, braised long beans with mild yellow curry and red chilies. Plus various vegetable accompaniments. There was a touch of stinky fish-product in everything. The kitchen smelled like a Philippino flop-house afterwards.
I wish there were a place around here where I could get tapsilog for lunch. Not too hep on Jollibee, though. It lacks that auntie touch.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Thursday, October 15, 2009
JUST ONE CONVERSATIONAL DISASTER AFTER ANOTHER
Thank you for telling me what a Cleveland Steamer is. As well as alerting me to the Vegetarian Hot Lunch, the Glass-bottomed Boat, and the Strawberry Shortcake. And as for that explanation of the Minivan, wow, that's one little datum I sure can't wait to share.
It was a cocktail-party chat to remember.
[These prizes, as well as many more, are explained here: http://www.urbandictionary.com/ ]
Have you considered therapy?
I only say this because, well, conversationally you are a disaster zone.
Example ONE
Sitting between both of you at the bar, one of you detailing in that unintelligible mumbled drawling growly basso-profundo what a god Michael Jackson was, the other one of you con-mucho-falsetto telling totally unprintable Michael Jackson pedophile jokes nonstop.
I did not need to know he was circumcised.
Example TWO
All three of you disputing, loudly, your paranoid conspiracy theories about Obama.
He's a Communist. He's a Muslim radical. He's the head of the Indonesian Illuminati.
You do realize that everyone within hearing distance thought you were barking mad, don't you?
They were right.
Example THREE
Yes, the German Storm trooper uniforms ARE uber-cool. But no, the SS would not want you under any circumstances - you're gay, you're Jewish, and, clearly, you're missing screws. You're flaming, dude.
But if I meet any jack-booted Germans, I'll be sure to tell them you said 'hellooooooooo, soldier!'.
And that you're free. For them.
Example FOUR
How many of my fellow pipe-smokers does it take to sound like a flock of geese?
No, seriously, are ninety-five percent of all the world's pipe-smokers gibbering maniacs?
One of you has a sense of humour that falls flat all the time, one of you sounds like you've got ADD because of too much caffeine, one of you reduces everything to an engineering question (that's the LAST time I'll ever mention polecats), one of you watches every nice pair of legs that goes by and then tells us about it in extraordinary detail (dude, we saw it too - we we're right here), and one of you keeps bringing up Mesopotamia.
Mesopotamia? WTF.
And that story about George accidentally stomping the pigeon to death was really old a year ago. It does not improve with every telling, nor with all of you telling it one after the other IN EXACTLY THE SAME WAY!
That's an ugly pipe, by the way.
You've got bad taste.
I really thought you should know.
It was a cocktail-party chat to remember.
[These prizes, as well as many more, are explained here: http://www.urbandictionary.com/ ]
Have you considered therapy?
I only say this because, well, conversationally you are a disaster zone.
Example ONE
Sitting between both of you at the bar, one of you detailing in that unintelligible mumbled drawling growly basso-profundo what a god Michael Jackson was, the other one of you con-mucho-falsetto telling totally unprintable Michael Jackson pedophile jokes nonstop.
I did not need to know he was circumcised.
Example TWO
All three of you disputing, loudly, your paranoid conspiracy theories about Obama.
He's a Communist. He's a Muslim radical. He's the head of the Indonesian Illuminati.
You do realize that everyone within hearing distance thought you were barking mad, don't you?
They were right.
Example THREE
Yes, the German Storm trooper uniforms ARE uber-cool. But no, the SS would not want you under any circumstances - you're gay, you're Jewish, and, clearly, you're missing screws. You're flaming, dude.
But if I meet any jack-booted Germans, I'll be sure to tell them you said 'hellooooooooo, soldier!'.
And that you're free. For them.
Example FOUR
How many of my fellow pipe-smokers does it take to sound like a flock of geese?
No, seriously, are ninety-five percent of all the world's pipe-smokers gibbering maniacs?
One of you has a sense of humour that falls flat all the time, one of you sounds like you've got ADD because of too much caffeine, one of you reduces everything to an engineering question (that's the LAST time I'll ever mention polecats), one of you watches every nice pair of legs that goes by and then tells us about it in extraordinary detail (dude, we saw it too - we we're right here), and one of you keeps bringing up Mesopotamia.
Mesopotamia? WTF.
And that story about George accidentally stomping the pigeon to death was really old a year ago. It does not improve with every telling, nor with all of you telling it one after the other IN EXACTLY THE SAME WAY!
That's an ugly pipe, by the way.
You've got bad taste.
I really thought you should know.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
FIRST TYPHOON OF THE SEASON
Normally the first storm of the season isn't until later. Much later. But yesterday it rained heavily, with wind gusts of up to fifty knots along the coast. Some commentators saw fit to call it a typhoon - the storm had blown in from Asia, and the rain was warm.
Calling it a typhoon was a bit of an overstatement, despite its ancestral provenance. Real typhoons bring in much more rain, much fiercer winds.
Unless you are a chicken, this was no typhoon. Such things do not occur in San Francisco.
THE HOUSE IN PASIG
The Tanguey family lived near the border of Pasig and Marikina, not far from where Bonifacio becomes Sumulong (though still called Bonifacio). The house was up on a concrete berm, above the warehouse, but the courtyard and sheds were marginally below street level.
Old man Tanguey (uncle Bennie) had made his modest pile by selling leather processing equipment of some sort, I never found out what.
When I told him how badly the tannery in Canterbury had smelled, his eyes twinkled cheerily, and he said "yes".
Knowing the stench of curing hides was something we had in common.
Besides favouring the same type of tobacco.
I was living with him and his family in between going to other parts of the Philippines. They were very nice people, and all of them had a queer sense of humour.
It was a good place. Good food, too.
TYPHOON
We got back on Friday afternoon at about two o'clock, several hours before the storm hit. By nine o'clock the electricity went out, and the entire neighborhood was pitch black. All day Saturday the wind pounded the building, and sometime during the morning water crested the embankment of the river. Saturday night was very noisy - the walls and ceilings shook violently.
At some point after ten o'clock, Pingping (the youngest daughter of uncle Bennie) suggested "you go outside with that, okay?" The 'that' in question being a pipe.
I think she was joking - outside was not safe in the darkness, with torrents of rain slamming almost horizontal. Nevertheless, to please her I finished smoking it in the kitchen with the terrified maids. At about twelve thirty there was an enormous crash outside.
[Pingping may also have simply wanted me to go elsewhere for a while - white people whiff a bit when the temperature is around one hundred......]
By the next morning, the winds had lessened considerably, and a steady rain hazed everything in silver grey sheets. When we went outside, the steps into the courtyard disappeared in water about three or four feet from the bottom. There were five bodies wedged between the edge of the sheds and the shrubs at the back, behind one of the trucks. Two of the trucks were askew, one of them was tipped over.
All along the road up to Mendoza was under water, about two or three feet. In some areas deeper - near the basketball fields, only the roofs of the houses were above the flood.
There were many, very many, fallen trees lying everywhich way.
It was good to have real food again - on Saturday we had snacked on biscuits from a large red tin box, wedges of mooncake, and weak tea from the giant thermos flasks in the kitchen. The maids had been too scared to cook. Pingping's nanny had 'entertained' them with tales of disasters she had lived through as a youngster many years ago - "ehhhhh, water up to there! (points bony finger at ceiling), kambing and manok all ploating ploating, ploating, like pish! (waves hands horizontally just above her eyebrows to signify the drowned goats and chickens), sad, sad, sad!" - in between spells of loudly counting her beads and theatrically sighing.
I'm fairly certain that she had enjoyed herself immensely at the expense of the younger women.
AFTERWARDS
Nanny went up to Calo'ocan for several days. When she left, she was cheerfully speculating that her brother and his family might all be dead. Apparently, that would be a "trahhhedia op unimatsi-nibal proporsion!"
She didn't seem at all depressed by the prospect.
Auntie Ningning (actually 'Luningning', and yes, she's the mother of Pingping) decided that we needed to go to Tabon in Bulacan where her sister lived. Auntie, Floriza, and Pingping, along with Ronaldo, Esty, and myself, as well as two drivers left the next day when the roads were said to be reasonably safe. We took the station wagons, leaving uncle Bennie and the men from the factory to deal with the mess and the tipped trucks.
On the way we passed through Antipolo, where there is a miraculous statue - mahal na birgen nang mabuteng-paglalayag (the 'statue of the virgin of good voyages').
Auntie Ningning remarked almost wistfully that her ancestors had tried to burn the idol - "but it perhaps lucky, lah, not charcoal yet".
I couldn't read her eyes behind the glasses. But I suspect that they twinkled.
Calling it a typhoon was a bit of an overstatement, despite its ancestral provenance. Real typhoons bring in much more rain, much fiercer winds.
Unless you are a chicken, this was no typhoon. Such things do not occur in San Francisco.
THE HOUSE IN PASIG
The Tanguey family lived near the border of Pasig and Marikina, not far from where Bonifacio becomes Sumulong (though still called Bonifacio). The house was up on a concrete berm, above the warehouse, but the courtyard and sheds were marginally below street level.
Old man Tanguey (uncle Bennie) had made his modest pile by selling leather processing equipment of some sort, I never found out what.
When I told him how badly the tannery in Canterbury had smelled, his eyes twinkled cheerily, and he said "yes".
Knowing the stench of curing hides was something we had in common.
Besides favouring the same type of tobacco.
I was living with him and his family in between going to other parts of the Philippines. They were very nice people, and all of them had a queer sense of humour.
It was a good place. Good food, too.
TYPHOON
We got back on Friday afternoon at about two o'clock, several hours before the storm hit. By nine o'clock the electricity went out, and the entire neighborhood was pitch black. All day Saturday the wind pounded the building, and sometime during the morning water crested the embankment of the river. Saturday night was very noisy - the walls and ceilings shook violently.
At some point after ten o'clock, Pingping (the youngest daughter of uncle Bennie) suggested "you go outside with that, okay?" The 'that' in question being a pipe.
I think she was joking - outside was not safe in the darkness, with torrents of rain slamming almost horizontal. Nevertheless, to please her I finished smoking it in the kitchen with the terrified maids. At about twelve thirty there was an enormous crash outside.
[Pingping may also have simply wanted me to go elsewhere for a while - white people whiff a bit when the temperature is around one hundred......]
By the next morning, the winds had lessened considerably, and a steady rain hazed everything in silver grey sheets. When we went outside, the steps into the courtyard disappeared in water about three or four feet from the bottom. There were five bodies wedged between the edge of the sheds and the shrubs at the back, behind one of the trucks. Two of the trucks were askew, one of them was tipped over.
All along the road up to Mendoza was under water, about two or three feet. In some areas deeper - near the basketball fields, only the roofs of the houses were above the flood.
There were many, very many, fallen trees lying everywhich way.
It was good to have real food again - on Saturday we had snacked on biscuits from a large red tin box, wedges of mooncake, and weak tea from the giant thermos flasks in the kitchen. The maids had been too scared to cook. Pingping's nanny had 'entertained' them with tales of disasters she had lived through as a youngster many years ago - "ehhhhh, water up to there! (points bony finger at ceiling), kambing and manok all ploating ploating, ploating, like pish! (waves hands horizontally just above her eyebrows to signify the drowned goats and chickens), sad, sad, sad!" - in between spells of loudly counting her beads and theatrically sighing.
I'm fairly certain that she had enjoyed herself immensely at the expense of the younger women.
AFTERWARDS
Nanny went up to Calo'ocan for several days. When she left, she was cheerfully speculating that her brother and his family might all be dead. Apparently, that would be a "trahhhedia op unimatsi-nibal proporsion!"
She didn't seem at all depressed by the prospect.
Auntie Ningning (actually 'Luningning', and yes, she's the mother of Pingping) decided that we needed to go to Tabon in Bulacan where her sister lived. Auntie, Floriza, and Pingping, along with Ronaldo, Esty, and myself, as well as two drivers left the next day when the roads were said to be reasonably safe. We took the station wagons, leaving uncle Bennie and the men from the factory to deal with the mess and the tipped trucks.
On the way we passed through Antipolo, where there is a miraculous statue - mahal na birgen nang mabuteng-paglalayag (the 'statue of the virgin of good voyages').
Auntie Ningning remarked almost wistfully that her ancestors had tried to burn the idol - "but it perhaps lucky, lah, not charcoal yet".
I couldn't read her eyes behind the glasses. But I suspect that they twinkled.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
DUTCH MIS-INFORMATION ABOUT ISRAEL
During operation Cast Lead the Dutch state-sponsored news organization (NOS) featured reportage from Sander van Hoorn in Israel. Both Sander van der Hoorn and the NOS have a recognized anti-Israel bias.
Which at that time became blatantly obvious, as neither the NOS nor mister van Hoorn hesitated to demonstrate their true colours.
[NOS = Nederlandse Omroep Stichting (Dutch Broadcast Foundation).]
Please visit 'bad news from the Netherlands' for an interesting perspective on informing the public.
Many European news organizations are sodden with Israel haters (the British are notorious in that regard), and both articles and programming support their views. But the Dutch are certainly no slouches.
[Not only the NOS, but also newspapers like the Volkskrant, Telegraaf, Algemeen Dagblad, and several other Dutch publications, serve as frequent examples.]
Sander van Hoorn and his editors decided that the Dutch viewers did not need impartial and independent news, but required slant, bias, and propaganda. To that end, they engaged in a pattern of omission, distortion and manipulation.
An English language report detailing what they did can be found here: http://zionism-israel.com/israel_news/2009/02/israels-gaza-war-in-dutch-state-funded.html
[This site: http://www.zionism-israel.com/israel_news/]
The original (in Dutch) is here: http://www.israelfacts.eu/tv-media/nos-journaal-rapport/index.html
There are several other interesting articles about biased Dutch reportage on that page. Scroll down to 'Israels Gaza war in Dutch state-funded media NOS'.
[Israel Facts is an excellent website for facts about Israel and the Middle East in Dutch. One would wish that more Dutch reporters and editors would start reading here: http://www.israelfacts.eu/index.php , but perhaps their busy schedules do not permit much reading.]
Dutch anti-Semitism now thrives as never before. Those who rely on Dutch news sources are mal-educated and mis-informed and have been strengthened and encouraged in their bigotry.
The country that betrayed Anne Frank along with over a hundred thousand of fellow citizens during the dark days of World War II seems intent on making Jew-hatred part of its culture.
It's a way of life, I guess.
=========================================================================
Note: a longer version of this post was originally published here:
http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2009/02/dutch-state-sponsored-mis-information.html
This article has now been crossposted on this blog:
http://proisraelbaybloggers.blogspot.com/
=========================================================================
PS. Indien er Nederlanders zijn die mijn woorden willen tegenspreken verzoek ik beleefd dat in het Engels te doen. Het merendeel der lezers hier is Engelstalig, begrijpt u wel, en dienovereenkomstig niet bemachtigd ene vloek-en-verdoemnis preek in uw taal te begrijpen, hoe schoon gij ook schrijft.
Bij voorbaat uiterst dank.
-----ATBOTH
Which at that time became blatantly obvious, as neither the NOS nor mister van Hoorn hesitated to demonstrate their true colours.
[NOS = Nederlandse Omroep Stichting (Dutch Broadcast Foundation).]
Please visit 'bad news from the Netherlands' for an interesting perspective on informing the public.
Many European news organizations are sodden with Israel haters (the British are notorious in that regard), and both articles and programming support their views. But the Dutch are certainly no slouches.
[Not only the NOS, but also newspapers like the Volkskrant, Telegraaf, Algemeen Dagblad, and several other Dutch publications, serve as frequent examples.]
Sander van Hoorn and his editors decided that the Dutch viewers did not need impartial and independent news, but required slant, bias, and propaganda. To that end, they engaged in a pattern of omission, distortion and manipulation.
An English language report detailing what they did can be found here: http://zionism-israel.com/israel_news/2009/02/israels-gaza-war-in-dutch-state-funded.html
[This site: http://www.zionism-israel.com/israel_news/]
The original (in Dutch) is here: http://www.israelfacts.eu/tv-media/nos-journaal-rapport/index.html
There are several other interesting articles about biased Dutch reportage on that page. Scroll down to 'Israels Gaza war in Dutch state-funded media NOS'.
[Israel Facts is an excellent website for facts about Israel and the Middle East in Dutch. One would wish that more Dutch reporters and editors would start reading here: http://www.israelfacts.eu/index.php , but perhaps their busy schedules do not permit much reading.]
Dutch anti-Semitism now thrives as never before. Those who rely on Dutch news sources are mal-educated and mis-informed and have been strengthened and encouraged in their bigotry.
The country that betrayed Anne Frank along with over a hundred thousand of fellow citizens during the dark days of World War II seems intent on making Jew-hatred part of its culture.
It's a way of life, I guess.
=========================================================================
Note: a longer version of this post was originally published here:
http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2009/02/dutch-state-sponsored-mis-information.html
This article has now been crossposted on this blog:
http://proisraelbaybloggers.blogspot.com/
=========================================================================
PS. Indien er Nederlanders zijn die mijn woorden willen tegenspreken verzoek ik beleefd dat in het Engels te doen. Het merendeel der lezers hier is Engelstalig, begrijpt u wel, en dienovereenkomstig niet bemachtigd ene vloek-en-verdoemnis preek in uw taal te begrijpen, hoe schoon gij ook schrijft.
Bij voorbaat uiterst dank.
-----ATBOTH
OBAMA IS JESUS!
By now everyone has heard that President Obama was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. Apparently, a bunch of deep-thinkers in Scandinavia decided that his singular achievements in the cause of peace were so extraordinary that, more than anyone else in 2009, Barrack Hussein Obama DESERVED the prize.
Obama's greatest achievement to-date is that he isn't Bush.
Not being Bush promotes peace like nothing else. Really.
It is, I'll admit, a rather good thing, this 'not being Bush'.
Quite praiseworthy.
But if that is Nobel material, we all qualify.
Can't we at least get a fairy wand for that?
Really, guys, couldn't you have made a better choice?
I mean, I like Obama and all, but he hasn't actually done anything yet. Wasn't there some longsuffering native vegetarian lady or bemedalled third-world gangster out there who did something truly significant?
Maybe some Arab who promised not to kill the nearest Jew?
An intellectual from Europe who started a macrobiotic charity?
Some South-African leader recognizing Apartheid somewhere (that's what they do - all South Africans can magically identify apartheid, in the most unlikely places - it's their unique gift).
Yeah, I truly appreciate you NOT giving it to Khaddafi (even though he has changed since his wild and foaming at the mouth young man stage), or Ahmedinejad (well, he hasn't bombed Israel yet ..... to many Europeans, that means he's a peacenik), or even the fat faced bozo in North Korea (hasn't kidnapped Japanese citizens in years, or journalists in months - he's a reformed man! Huzzah!).
But Barrack Hussein Obama?
To the rest of us it looks like you well-meaning Norwegians are so incredibly impressed with a handsome erudite black man that you just plumb bent over.
Big, black, and well-spoken? YØwzå!!!
Perhaps not good enough to date your daughter (you lot still ARE very white, over there in Norway - kinda like Swedes), but so very impressive that you yourself will just about drop your own pants for him.
Not Bush! And BLACK!! Even educated!!! Weeeeee!!!! He's divine!!!!!
Please like us, mister Obama sir!!!!!!
You distinguished Norwegian politicos are off your rocker.
Obama's greatest achievement to-date is that he isn't Bush.
Not being Bush promotes peace like nothing else. Really.
It is, I'll admit, a rather good thing, this 'not being Bush'.
Quite praiseworthy.
But if that is Nobel material, we all qualify.
Can't we at least get a fairy wand for that?
Really, guys, couldn't you have made a better choice?
I mean, I like Obama and all, but he hasn't actually done anything yet. Wasn't there some longsuffering native vegetarian lady or bemedalled third-world gangster out there who did something truly significant?
Maybe some Arab who promised not to kill the nearest Jew?
An intellectual from Europe who started a macrobiotic charity?
Some South-African leader recognizing Apartheid somewhere (that's what they do - all South Africans can magically identify apartheid, in the most unlikely places - it's their unique gift).
Yeah, I truly appreciate you NOT giving it to Khaddafi (even though he has changed since his wild and foaming at the mouth young man stage), or Ahmedinejad (well, he hasn't bombed Israel yet ..... to many Europeans, that means he's a peacenik), or even the fat faced bozo in North Korea (hasn't kidnapped Japanese citizens in years, or journalists in months - he's a reformed man! Huzzah!).
But Barrack Hussein Obama?
To the rest of us it looks like you well-meaning Norwegians are so incredibly impressed with a handsome erudite black man that you just plumb bent over.
Big, black, and well-spoken? YØwzå!!!
Perhaps not good enough to date your daughter (you lot still ARE very white, over there in Norway - kinda like Swedes), but so very impressive that you yourself will just about drop your own pants for him.
Not Bush! And BLACK!! Even educated!!! Weeeeee!!!! He's divine!!!!!
Please like us, mister Obama sir!!!!!!
You distinguished Norwegian politicos are off your rocker.
A FRUITFUL DISCUSSION ABOUT CULTURE NEAR THE HOOGHLI
Some conversations are, you know from the starting moment, completely pointless. Such as discussing poetry with someone from the Bengali speaking part of the world.
All poems are better in Bengali. No exceptions.
Literature is possible only in Bengali.
Art, science, philosophy?
It's Bengali.
Only.
I could've mentioned typhus, cholera, syphilis, malaria, malnutrition, food poisoning and epic diarrhoea, or notorious black holes. But I mentioned Shakespeare.
Who should've been born and buried near the Hooghli.
England is such a miserable place!
Avon, shmavon. Hah!
Something perhaps equally pointless is encouraging a Bonglo to consume strong liquor. Even if it is only to allow him to say even more absurd things. There is something in the head of the average Banglawallah that goes disastrously haywire whenever alcohol hits a metabolism so used to chandrapuli, chumchums, doodhpuli, kachagulla, laddoo, malpua, pakanpitha, pontua, shondesh, rosgollah, and sundry other items rich with ghee, khoya, sugar.......
Cardamom, saffron, attar, and even more ghee and sugar......
It's just very bad chemistry.
Too much sugar.
He began to twitch.
It was a very amusing conversation, despite the immense irritation. What made it especially good was at the end, when I sent him off into the cold foggy night after the bar closed. The booze hit his cerebellum even harder, because of the freezing temperature, and he started a conversation about Rabindranath Tagore with a streetperson looking for beer money.
I'm sure they got along very well.
Introducing the two of them created good in the world.
They have a lot in common.
All nights should end this way.
Benny Tagore would've approved.
All poems are better in Bengali. No exceptions.
Literature is possible only in Bengali.
Art, science, philosophy?
It's Bengali.
Only.
I could've mentioned typhus, cholera, syphilis, malaria, malnutrition, food poisoning and epic diarrhoea, or notorious black holes. But I mentioned Shakespeare.
Who should've been born and buried near the Hooghli.
England is such a miserable place!
Avon, shmavon. Hah!
Something perhaps equally pointless is encouraging a Bonglo to consume strong liquor. Even if it is only to allow him to say even more absurd things. There is something in the head of the average Banglawallah that goes disastrously haywire whenever alcohol hits a metabolism so used to chandrapuli, chumchums, doodhpuli, kachagulla, laddoo, malpua, pakanpitha, pontua, shondesh, rosgollah, and sundry other items rich with ghee, khoya, sugar.......
Cardamom, saffron, attar, and even more ghee and sugar......
It's just very bad chemistry.
Too much sugar.
He began to twitch.
It was a very amusing conversation, despite the immense irritation. What made it especially good was at the end, when I sent him off into the cold foggy night after the bar closed. The booze hit his cerebellum even harder, because of the freezing temperature, and he started a conversation about Rabindranath Tagore with a streetperson looking for beer money.
I'm sure they got along very well.
Introducing the two of them created good in the world.
They have a lot in common.
All nights should end this way.
Benny Tagore would've approved.
Monday, October 12, 2009
QORI SANDIORIVA OUTRAGES MUSLIM PRUDES
File this under 'storm in a teacup': Muslim authorities in Aceh ('ah-chay') are fuming over a woman who did not wear a veil. It is horrendous, and presages the end of times. Civilization will end if this is let stand, and fire and brimstone may descend at any moment - film at eleven.
[Aceh is a staunchly Muslim province of Indonesia, having been Islamic longer than any part of that region. The Acehnese spent the better part of the last century and a half fighting for their liberty - first against the Dutch, then against the Dutch again, then against the Japanese, then against the Indonesians, then against the Indonesians again, then again against the Indonesians, and lastly, once more against the Indonesians.
After the Indonesians received unfair assistance from the divine by means of a Tsunami, the Acehnese finally agreed to a grudging peace.
Acehnese are obstinate and independent-minded.]
QUOTE:
Clerics in Indonesia's conservative Muslim province of Aceh say they are outraged that an Acehnese woman has won the title of Miss Indonesia.
End quote.
The horror, the horror!!!
QUOTE:
Qori Sandioriva, 18, won the Miss Indonesia title on Friday, beating 37 other contestants for the crown.
The clerics say that by failing to wear a veil during the competition she has betrayed her Acehnese roots and brought shame to the province.
End quote.
The idiocy, the idiocy!!!
QUOTE:
Teung-ku Faisal Ali, the secretary general of Aceh's Ulama Association, told the BBC that anyone who represents Aceh must uphold the province's values.
He said Qori Sandioriva did not wear a veil during the competition and therefore did not represent the Acehnese people, who have strong Islamic faith and values.
End quote.
SOURCE:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/8302018.stm
BALDERDASH
With all due respect, Teungku Faisal Ali is blowing it out of his ear. The veil, in any form at all, is a very recent introduction to Aceh and the rest of Indonesia. It is only because of a childish desire to emulate the Arabs that head-shrouding has even gained inroads in the Malayo-Indonesian region, and Acehnese women have been unveiled from the introduction of Islam till the modern era.
Many Acehnese women have had roles more glorious than their men, and have been leaders and entrepreneurs of great distinction.
Till recent times, their public face has been unhidden.
Would Teungku Faisal Ali speak disparagingly of such women as Tjut Nya Dhien, fierce leader for thirty years of the resistance to the Dutch?
Pictures of her show a stern face, with strong eyes and a determined mouth. And... no veil.
Considering the hair-styles that at that time were normal for Acehnese women, headcovering would have been a ridiculous imposition besides.
Certainly such people as Tjut Nya Dhien and her daughter can be considered immodest, by modern restrictive Islamic standards, especially if the focus is on aping Arabs.
But such 'immodesty' has served Aceh well. Far better, in any case, than any amount of ridiculous covering-up of Acehnese womanhood ever will.
How dare Teungku Faisal Ali even speak? He should be ashamed of his words, even if he cannot congratulate his kinswoman sincerely.
=========================================
APPENDIX: TJUT NYA DHIEN
An exemplary Acehnese woman
Tjut Nya Dhien (b. 1846 or 1848; d. 1908) was the daughter of one commander (Nanta Setia) and the wife of another (Teuku Ibrahim Lam'nga) in the fight against the Dutch. Both men fell in the battle of Sela Glé Tarun in 1873. After their deaths, Tjut Nya Dhien assumed command of the troops and continued the struggle until 1901, spending most of that time in the jungles and hills.
Her second husband, Teuku Umar, perished in combat in 1899.
When the Dutch captured her, Tjut Nya Dhien was old, worn-out, arthritic, and nearly blind. And still she fought - she was taken in battle.
The Dutch exiled her to Sumedang in Java, where she died six years later. She spent those last years teaching the Quran to local people.
From a contemporary account:
"None of those men who were leaders in the long holy war of Atjeh against us hated us as fiercely or fought us as resolutely as she did, and few sacrificed so much, of both their power and property. Never, in her resistance, did she deviate by even one step, never did she doubt, never could she be bought. Transported, she died in exile. "Resigned", they say - but that cannot be believed! And why should we even desire any 'resignation' from her? As a salve on the wounds of our conscience? For the greater glory of our triumph?
No! Let us honour her as indeed our bitterest enemy, who was finally broken by our might."
Tjut Nya Dhien's daughter, Tjut Gambang (wife of Teungku Dhi Buket, who was the son of Teuku Tjik Dhi Tiro, Acheh's most famous guerilla leader) continued the war in the jungles of Atjeh, dying in battle in 1910.
[Aceh is a staunchly Muslim province of Indonesia, having been Islamic longer than any part of that region. The Acehnese spent the better part of the last century and a half fighting for their liberty - first against the Dutch, then against the Dutch again, then against the Japanese, then against the Indonesians, then against the Indonesians again, then again against the Indonesians, and lastly, once more against the Indonesians.
After the Indonesians received unfair assistance from the divine by means of a Tsunami, the Acehnese finally agreed to a grudging peace.
Acehnese are obstinate and independent-minded.]
QUOTE:
Clerics in Indonesia's conservative Muslim province of Aceh say they are outraged that an Acehnese woman has won the title of Miss Indonesia.
End quote.
The horror, the horror!!!
QUOTE:
Qori Sandioriva, 18, won the Miss Indonesia title on Friday, beating 37 other contestants for the crown.
The clerics say that by failing to wear a veil during the competition she has betrayed her Acehnese roots and brought shame to the province.
End quote.
The idiocy, the idiocy!!!
QUOTE:
Teung-ku Faisal Ali, the secretary general of Aceh's Ulama Association, told the BBC that anyone who represents Aceh must uphold the province's values.
He said Qori Sandioriva did not wear a veil during the competition and therefore did not represent the Acehnese people, who have strong Islamic faith and values.
End quote.
SOURCE:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/8302018.stm
BALDERDASH
With all due respect, Teungku Faisal Ali is blowing it out of his ear. The veil, in any form at all, is a very recent introduction to Aceh and the rest of Indonesia. It is only because of a childish desire to emulate the Arabs that head-shrouding has even gained inroads in the Malayo-Indonesian region, and Acehnese women have been unveiled from the introduction of Islam till the modern era.
Many Acehnese women have had roles more glorious than their men, and have been leaders and entrepreneurs of great distinction.
Till recent times, their public face has been unhidden.
Would Teungku Faisal Ali speak disparagingly of such women as Tjut Nya Dhien, fierce leader for thirty years of the resistance to the Dutch?
Pictures of her show a stern face, with strong eyes and a determined mouth. And... no veil.
Considering the hair-styles that at that time were normal for Acehnese women, headcovering would have been a ridiculous imposition besides.
Certainly such people as Tjut Nya Dhien and her daughter can be considered immodest, by modern restrictive Islamic standards, especially if the focus is on aping Arabs.
But such 'immodesty' has served Aceh well. Far better, in any case, than any amount of ridiculous covering-up of Acehnese womanhood ever will.
How dare Teungku Faisal Ali even speak? He should be ashamed of his words, even if he cannot congratulate his kinswoman sincerely.
=========================================
APPENDIX: TJUT NYA DHIEN
An exemplary Acehnese woman
Tjut Nya Dhien (b. 1846 or 1848; d. 1908) was the daughter of one commander (Nanta Setia) and the wife of another (Teuku Ibrahim Lam'nga) in the fight against the Dutch. Both men fell in the battle of Sela Glé Tarun in 1873. After their deaths, Tjut Nya Dhien assumed command of the troops and continued the struggle until 1901, spending most of that time in the jungles and hills.
Her second husband, Teuku Umar, perished in combat in 1899.
When the Dutch captured her, Tjut Nya Dhien was old, worn-out, arthritic, and nearly blind. And still she fought - she was taken in battle.
The Dutch exiled her to Sumedang in Java, where she died six years later. She spent those last years teaching the Quran to local people.
From a contemporary account:
"None of those men who were leaders in the long holy war of Atjeh against us hated us as fiercely or fought us as resolutely as she did, and few sacrificed so much, of both their power and property. Never, in her resistance, did she deviate by even one step, never did she doubt, never could she be bought. Transported, she died in exile. "Resigned", they say - but that cannot be believed! And why should we even desire any 'resignation' from her? As a salve on the wounds of our conscience? For the greater glory of our triumph?
No! Let us honour her as indeed our bitterest enemy, who was finally broken by our might."
Tjut Nya Dhien's daughter, Tjut Gambang (wife of Teungku Dhi Buket, who was the son of Teuku Tjik Dhi Tiro, Acheh's most famous guerilla leader) continued the war in the jungles of Atjeh, dying in battle in 1910.
Friday, October 09, 2009
POINTLESS BUT LINKED
Yes, boys and girls, it is time to play link-dump.
What I'm listening to at the moment:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1jjBwz-mg3A
Second choice:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vp_oiE2Fzyc
Third choice:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P5I-RTRBua0&feature=fvw
CATEGORY A: KILL 'EM ALL MUSIC
Königgrätzer Marsch
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mRqssiz__vY
Preussens Gloria
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_D1mYBBHgM&feature=related
The British Grenadiers
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cDKn3nl9FeY&feature=related
Rule Britannia
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=63o8exNK4-Q
Marines Hymn
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iKkflXlh3C8&feature=related
Zulu - Final Attack (the scene from the movie with the actual soundtrack).
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1csr0dxalpI&feature=related
CATEGORY B: QUALITY ENTERTAINMENT
Azumanga Daioh - The best of Kimura
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ftAMtTH6mKQ
The school culture fest
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VU7HhHRgCiM&feature=related
Yukari's Driving
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FS9csiX95dQ&feature=related
LAGNIAPPE
And, for those of you who had to take public transit to get here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bBvEHJOUbjk
A large furry Totoro at the bus stop.
Youtube - it's a way of life.
What I'm listening to at the moment:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1jjBwz-mg3A
Second choice:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vp_oiE2Fzyc
Third choice:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P5I-RTRBua0&feature=fvw
CATEGORY A: KILL 'EM ALL MUSIC
Königgrätzer Marsch
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mRqssiz__vY
Preussens Gloria
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_D1mYBBHgM&feature=related
The British Grenadiers
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cDKn3nl9FeY&feature=related
Rule Britannia
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=63o8exNK4-Q
Marines Hymn
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iKkflXlh3C8&feature=related
Zulu - Final Attack (the scene from the movie with the actual soundtrack).
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1csr0dxalpI&feature=related
CATEGORY B: QUALITY ENTERTAINMENT
Azumanga Daioh - The best of Kimura
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ftAMtTH6mKQ
The school culture fest
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VU7HhHRgCiM&feature=related
Yukari's Driving
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FS9csiX95dQ&feature=related
LAGNIAPPE
And, for those of you who had to take public transit to get here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bBvEHJOUbjk
A large furry Totoro at the bus stop.
Youtube - it's a way of life.
Thursday, October 08, 2009
BERKELEY DAILY PLANET - QUINTESSENCE OF INDECENCY
Sometimes I wonder whether the Berkeley Daily Planet has any shred of decency left. Is there no depth to which they will not stoop? Then there are times when I read the damn thing, or someone sends me an article, and I must refrain from vomiting.
Today is one such time.
Trust me, you need not know what that odious rag did now.
It still baffles me, after all this time, that the editor of that foul agit-prop pamphlet, Becky O'Malley, considers herself a journalist, a gifted writer, and a decent human being. Fortunately I am not the only person in the Bay Area to be appalled by her chutzpah.
According to the Berkeley Daily Planet Watchdog:
Quote: 'The Berkeley Daily Planet, as we will show, is a font of anti-Jewish and anti-Israel expression. It defends itself from the ugly charge of anti-Semitism by professing, instead, a very strict interpretation of the rights of free speech. However, while we have found all manner of anti-Semitic hate ("free") speech, in a thorough review of all past issues we have found only one expression of hate speech directed at any other group. That other group is police officers. Since Michael and Becky O’Malley bought the paper in early 2003, we have not found one single expression of hate speech directed against gays, Muslims, blacks, or any other ethnic or religious group. ' End quote.
http://dpwatchdog.com/
MS. O'MALLEY AND HER PETULANCE
Chutzpah is not something of which one would normally accuse a person of sterling Wasp background (sarcasm!), but there is sufficient reason to make an exception.
According to the Berkeley Daily Planet Watchdog:
Quote: 'She made her name in Berkeley fighting every form of development and progress. As a member of the Landmarks Commission, in particular, she most vehemently fought against the building if a synagogue, Beth El. The Northern California Jewish Weekly, the "J" reported how she fought the synagogue in this way in its January 19, 2001 issue:
"Although the hearing proceeded, much of the time it was less than orderly. O'Malley continually interrupted, spoke over other commissioners and had to be told repeatedly by Edwards that she was out of order. She passed notes to commissioners who were not disqualified, made faces, shook her head and, at one point, left her seat, walked in front of the commissioners' table and got a speaker's card." ' End quote.
http://www.dpwatchdog.com/3anti-semitism.html
There are several very interesting links about Becky O'Malley and the Berkeley Daily Planet on the website of the Daily Planet Watchdog. It is a much more refreshing read than anything the Daily Planet has published in quite a while.
Please show your support of the exercise of first amendment rights by reading the articles on the website of the Daily Planet Watchdog
PETITION - WE ARE JEWS AND NON-JEWS ...
And, if you are so inclined, I encourage you to sign a petition calling Becky O'Malley and her henchmen to task:
http://www.gopetition.com/petitions/fight-anti-semitic-rhetoric-at-the-berkeley-daily-planet.html
Please note: previous mentions of the Berkeley Daily Planet by this blogger and other include the following posts: Hate and the Daily Planet; Berkeley Daily Planet - Hatred's Own Propaganda Rag; Berkeley Daily Planet: Anti-Semitic Fishwrap; The Berkeley Daily Planet-The Beginning of the End; Daily Planet Watchdog and the Bitter Bitch.
If you know of any other blog posts about the Berkeley daily Planet that are not mentioned here, feel free to cite them in the comments.
The Berkeley Daily Planet is distributed free (being actually an advertising sheet, albeit one with pretensions) and is worth every penny.
=================================================
This article cross-posted on http://proisraelbaybloggers.blogspot.com/
Feel free to read it twice.
=================================================
Today is one such time.
Trust me, you need not know what that odious rag did now.
It still baffles me, after all this time, that the editor of that foul agit-prop pamphlet, Becky O'Malley, considers herself a journalist, a gifted writer, and a decent human being. Fortunately I am not the only person in the Bay Area to be appalled by her chutzpah.
According to the Berkeley Daily Planet Watchdog:
Quote: 'The Berkeley Daily Planet, as we will show, is a font of anti-Jewish and anti-Israel expression. It defends itself from the ugly charge of anti-Semitism by professing, instead, a very strict interpretation of the rights of free speech. However, while we have found all manner of anti-Semitic hate ("free") speech, in a thorough review of all past issues we have found only one expression of hate speech directed at any other group. That other group is police officers. Since Michael and Becky O’Malley bought the paper in early 2003, we have not found one single expression of hate speech directed against gays, Muslims, blacks, or any other ethnic or religious group. ' End quote.
http://dpwatchdog.com/
MS. O'MALLEY AND HER PETULANCE
Chutzpah is not something of which one would normally accuse a person of sterling Wasp background (sarcasm!), but there is sufficient reason to make an exception.
According to the Berkeley Daily Planet Watchdog:
Quote: 'She made her name in Berkeley fighting every form of development and progress. As a member of the Landmarks Commission, in particular, she most vehemently fought against the building if a synagogue, Beth El. The Northern California Jewish Weekly, the "J" reported how she fought the synagogue in this way in its January 19, 2001 issue:
"Although the hearing proceeded, much of the time it was less than orderly. O'Malley continually interrupted, spoke over other commissioners and had to be told repeatedly by Edwards that she was out of order. She passed notes to commissioners who were not disqualified, made faces, shook her head and, at one point, left her seat, walked in front of the commissioners' table and got a speaker's card." ' End quote.
http://www.dpwatchdog.com/3anti-semitism.html
There are several very interesting links about Becky O'Malley and the Berkeley Daily Planet on the website of the Daily Planet Watchdog. It is a much more refreshing read than anything the Daily Planet has published in quite a while.
Please show your support of the exercise of first amendment rights by reading the articles on the website of the Daily Planet Watchdog
PETITION - WE ARE JEWS AND NON-JEWS ...
And, if you are so inclined, I encourage you to sign a petition calling Becky O'Malley and her henchmen to task:
http://www.gopetition.com/petitions/fight-anti-semitic-rhetoric-at-the-berkeley-daily-planet.html
Please note: previous mentions of the Berkeley Daily Planet by this blogger and other include the following posts: Hate and the Daily Planet; Berkeley Daily Planet - Hatred's Own Propaganda Rag; Berkeley Daily Planet: Anti-Semitic Fishwrap; The Berkeley Daily Planet-The Beginning of the End; Daily Planet Watchdog and the Bitter Bitch.
If you know of any other blog posts about the Berkeley daily Planet that are not mentioned here, feel free to cite them in the comments.
The Berkeley Daily Planet is distributed free (being actually an advertising sheet, albeit one with pretensions) and is worth every penny.
=================================================
This article cross-posted on http://proisraelbaybloggers.blogspot.com/
Feel free to read it twice.
=================================================
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
REPORT ON INTERNATIONAL ANSWER PROTEST
Location: on the sidewalk outside the new Federal Building on Seventh Street between Mission and Market.
Got there at about 5:20 PM.
Stayed till 6:00 PM.
Mostly, a waste of time. 'Borat' was there, gibberingly upset that we weren't - somebody had told him we would be out in force.
I gave him a cigarillo. It kept going out.
AFGHANISTAN WAR DEMONSTRATION
ATTENDEES: 150 to 160 people, mostly elderly, some substance abuser-types, a few young Pally looking fellows. One, maybe two, anarchist-bandanna across the ponim.
Average age of the crowd was forty or so, average skin-hue was middle-class Berkeley, average gender veered slightly towards earth-mother.
Half a dozen keffiyot maximum. Three things that looked like Palestinian colours, but no Palestinian flags.
SIGNS: 120 - 150, mostly on focus (Afghanistan), mostly ANSWER productions.
About sixteen of the signs mentioned Gaza, Occupsacrime, or The Right of Return - possibly all of them recycled from previous festivities.
One sign said" Without Justice, Freedom is Meaningless".
SPEECHES: Somebody (Borat, please stop screaming "you assholes" when you're standing next to me) quoted from Pastor Niemöller's famous text ("first they came for..."). Somebody else (Borat, stop shouting!) speeched about the war not being to the benefit of the people of Afghanistan, Iraq, or Israel (yes, that's right - 'not beneficial to the people of Israel').
Richard Becker said a lot, but by now Borat was going all apoplectic, and I couldn't figure out what Becker was going on about - sorry, I was distracted.
Gloria LaRiva accused the board of supes of being war-mongering imperialists, primarily because she and a companion got arrested on Mission Street last week for putting up posters - the nerve! (something about a twenty-thousand dollar fine?) - and secondarily because the Blue Angels will be in town this weekend. She also hates the Oakland City Government - they too are imperialist warmongers, chiefly because of their parking policies. Evil, evil, evil.
Someone else speeched about healthcare. Money for our schools. Old folks. The Cuban Five. The San Francisco Eight. Borat, will you just shut up! I'm here to take photos, count people and signs, and NOT to attract attention or pick fights. Yes, here's my lighter - those things do go out if you're not paying attention (because you're jumping up and down and screaming).
Daisy cutters on Afghan villagers. War crimes. Destruction of Afghan hovels. The recruiting of fourteen-year olds by the US military in our schools. Outing homosexuals.
A Vietnam vet spoke, a female soldier who had been in Iraq also. The San Francisco Labor Council sent it's support, but was not physically represented.
If Israel was mentioned at all, it was in passing, and only to the already converted.
POLICE: Ten officers in front of the door to the Federal Building. Another half dozen or so on the peripheries. A blue minyan walked past me on the other side of the street.
GENERAL IMPRESSIONS: No passers-by to impress, no swelling of the crowd. Some attendees left before I did. The guy dressed like a weird Greek Orthodox priest was there - he was the only one with an American flag. Two or three people had 911 truth signs. The three or four Palestinian teenagers had a bullhorn, but didn't use it. Borat was hideously upset that some of the signs mentioned Israel, or Palestine, or Gaza - "Zees piple, zey are not on our side I don't zeenk". Couldn't have said it better myself.
There were three news vans there. It must be a slow day.
I have no doubt that many in the crowd hate Israel - that's par for the course at most far-left protests, the strident ideology attracts vermin.
But Israel was not the focus. There actually wasn't a focus.
Got there at about 5:20 PM.
Stayed till 6:00 PM.
Mostly, a waste of time. 'Borat' was there, gibberingly upset that we weren't - somebody had told him we would be out in force.
I gave him a cigarillo. It kept going out.
AFGHANISTAN WAR DEMONSTRATION
ATTENDEES: 150 to 160 people, mostly elderly, some substance abuser-types, a few young Pally looking fellows. One, maybe two, anarchist-bandanna across the ponim.
Average age of the crowd was forty or so, average skin-hue was middle-class Berkeley, average gender veered slightly towards earth-mother.
Half a dozen keffiyot maximum. Three things that looked like Palestinian colours, but no Palestinian flags.
SIGNS: 120 - 150, mostly on focus (Afghanistan), mostly ANSWER productions.
About sixteen of the signs mentioned Gaza, Occupsacrime, or The Right of Return - possibly all of them recycled from previous festivities.
One sign said" Without Justice, Freedom is Meaningless".
SPEECHES: Somebody (Borat, please stop screaming "you assholes" when you're standing next to me) quoted from Pastor Niemöller's famous text ("first they came for..."). Somebody else (Borat, stop shouting!) speeched about the war not being to the benefit of the people of Afghanistan, Iraq, or Israel (yes, that's right - 'not beneficial to the people of Israel').
Richard Becker said a lot, but by now Borat was going all apoplectic, and I couldn't figure out what Becker was going on about - sorry, I was distracted.
Gloria LaRiva accused the board of supes of being war-mongering imperialists, primarily because she and a companion got arrested on Mission Street last week for putting up posters - the nerve! (something about a twenty-thousand dollar fine?) - and secondarily because the Blue Angels will be in town this weekend. She also hates the Oakland City Government - they too are imperialist warmongers, chiefly because of their parking policies. Evil, evil, evil.
Someone else speeched about healthcare. Money for our schools. Old folks. The Cuban Five. The San Francisco Eight. Borat, will you just shut up! I'm here to take photos, count people and signs, and NOT to attract attention or pick fights. Yes, here's my lighter - those things do go out if you're not paying attention (because you're jumping up and down and screaming).
Daisy cutters on Afghan villagers. War crimes. Destruction of Afghan hovels. The recruiting of fourteen-year olds by the US military in our schools. Outing homosexuals.
A Vietnam vet spoke, a female soldier who had been in Iraq also. The San Francisco Labor Council sent it's support, but was not physically represented.
If Israel was mentioned at all, it was in passing, and only to the already converted.
POLICE: Ten officers in front of the door to the Federal Building. Another half dozen or so on the peripheries. A blue minyan walked past me on the other side of the street.
GENERAL IMPRESSIONS: No passers-by to impress, no swelling of the crowd. Some attendees left before I did. The guy dressed like a weird Greek Orthodox priest was there - he was the only one with an American flag. Two or three people had 911 truth signs. The three or four Palestinian teenagers had a bullhorn, but didn't use it. Borat was hideously upset that some of the signs mentioned Israel, or Palestine, or Gaza - "Zees piple, zey are not on our side I don't zeenk". Couldn't have said it better myself.
There were three news vans there. It must be a slow day.
I have no doubt that many in the crowd hate Israel - that's par for the course at most far-left protests, the strident ideology attracts vermin.
But Israel was not the focus. There actually wasn't a focus.
RIPPING THE FAMILY GOY
This past Sunday I did not watch the Family Guy on television. But apparently I should have.
One of the characters discovered that she was Jewish.
I just love it when people discover that they're Jewish. It's nearly as amusing as when they discover that they are Native Americans or Gypsies. Interesting eccentricities and quirks surface that reflect some long repressed facet of their never before realized identity.
I myself shall at some point discover that I am a repatriated Zulu or Grelzakian Toad Cult high priest, and will insist that you respect that.
Now excuse me while I run around widdershins screaming something unintelligible - it's part of who I am.
The beads represent my ethnic pride.
But anyhow.
THE FAMILY GOY
[Watch it here:
http://www.hulu.com/watch/99895/family-guy-family-goy#s-p1-so-i0 ]
Horribly repulsive episode. Seth MacFarlane and crew have surpassed all previous standards of insult and stereotyping.
Family Guy usually is the most offensive show on the tube, featuring unrealistic depictions of every group on the planet except the Irish.
I wonder why they never parody the Irish.....
If I were Irish, I'd be planning to bomb them right now. I have seldom seen such a Hibernophobic show. Appalling, despite its accuracy.
Yes, the dog usually is the most intelligent member of the family, but did you HAVE to make him so supercilious?
Brutal realism isn't funny, guys.
On the other hand, Meg Griffin is the smokingest hot hot hot shiksa on the tube. G-d Meg is hot! I mean, that girl is smoking! Woohoo. Yowza. A total babe.
Why doesn't she have her own fan site?
Internet porn got nothing on her.
One of the characters discovered that she was Jewish.
I just love it when people discover that they're Jewish. It's nearly as amusing as when they discover that they are Native Americans or Gypsies. Interesting eccentricities and quirks surface that reflect some long repressed facet of their never before realized identity.
I myself shall at some point discover that I am a repatriated Zulu or Grelzakian Toad Cult high priest, and will insist that you respect that.
Now excuse me while I run around widdershins screaming something unintelligible - it's part of who I am.
The beads represent my ethnic pride.
But anyhow.
THE FAMILY GOY
[Watch it here:
http://www.hulu.com/watch/99895/family-guy-family-goy#s-p1-so-i0 ]
Horribly repulsive episode. Seth MacFarlane and crew have surpassed all previous standards of insult and stereotyping.
Family Guy usually is the most offensive show on the tube, featuring unrealistic depictions of every group on the planet except the Irish.
I wonder why they never parody the Irish.....
If I were Irish, I'd be planning to bomb them right now. I have seldom seen such a Hibernophobic show. Appalling, despite its accuracy.
Yes, the dog usually is the most intelligent member of the family, but did you HAVE to make him so supercilious?
Brutal realism isn't funny, guys.
On the other hand, Meg Griffin is the smokingest hot hot hot shiksa on the tube. G-d Meg is hot! I mean, that girl is smoking! Woohoo. Yowza. A total babe.
Why doesn't she have her own fan site?
Internet porn got nothing on her.
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
THANK YOU, GERMANS!
What I really wanted to write about today was something else, but I got distracted by the news.
Per an article in a foreign newspaper some Germans are upset about a product that our company manufactures.
To them it looks far too much like a penis (no, we do not manufacture wurst).
Suffice to say that Germans are both filthy minded and insane. Some of them.
Apparently they (the filthy minded insane Germans) are now boycotting our entire product line.
I'm giggling like an idiot right now.
Thank you, Germans!
GERMAN PENIS!
I cannot remember what I was originally going to write about. See, I was reading a foreign news publication over the internet while eating, when I saw mention of our penissy product (the one that angers filthy-minded Germans). As well as the outrage.
Have you ever shot a tomato and cheese sandwich out of your nose? I can now say that I have. It's a new experience.
The particular sandwich (tomato and cheese) will stand in for all possible sandwiches, and I shall not need to do that again. I now know what having sandwich matter shooting out of each nostril feels like.
My knowledge has thus increased.
Thank you, Germans!
I also now know how hard it is to remove sandwichy goo from the keyboard. If this thing starts smelling in the next few days, I'll know why. They say that keyboards are a source of infection, or that more germs are found on keyboards than on doorknobs. This may have been what they were referring to.
It is a source of potent joy that there were no pickles on that sandwich.
Thank you, Germans!
Per an article in a foreign newspaper some Germans are upset about a product that our company manufactures.
To them it looks far too much like a penis (no, we do not manufacture wurst).
Suffice to say that Germans are both filthy minded and insane. Some of them.
Apparently they (the filthy minded insane Germans) are now boycotting our entire product line.
I'm giggling like an idiot right now.
Thank you, Germans!
GERMAN PENIS!
I cannot remember what I was originally going to write about. See, I was reading a foreign news publication over the internet while eating, when I saw mention of our penissy product (the one that angers filthy-minded Germans). As well as the outrage.
Have you ever shot a tomato and cheese sandwich out of your nose? I can now say that I have. It's a new experience.
The particular sandwich (tomato and cheese) will stand in for all possible sandwiches, and I shall not need to do that again. I now know what having sandwich matter shooting out of each nostril feels like.
My knowledge has thus increased.
Thank you, Germans!
I also now know how hard it is to remove sandwichy goo from the keyboard. If this thing starts smelling in the next few days, I'll know why. They say that keyboards are a source of infection, or that more germs are found on keyboards than on doorknobs. This may have been what they were referring to.
It is a source of potent joy that there were no pickles on that sandwich.
Thank you, Germans!
Monday, October 05, 2009
THE STUPID, IT HURTS
These are perilous economic times. Which means that some of you need to re-think the operating paradigms of your business.
Please remember, net thirty is a privilege.
PRIH..... VIH..... LIDJ!
I can revoke that privilege (or refuse to grant it) if something suggests to me that you might not fully wish to co-operate with the 'underlying desirable progression'.
What that means is, I release your order on net thirty terms if you have a clean record.
The invoice for that order is generated immediately after shipment, and sent to you.
You pay the invoice reasonably close to the due-date, which is thirty days after the shipment went out the warehouse door.
A few days late, no problem.
It is a simple idea. Up until 2009 you understood it perfectly well.
E-MAIL ONE:
"Hi,
The customer will pay the past-due invoices if we agree to increase their credit limit. Please advise asap, as I have new orders in hand."
Comment: This customer doesn't understand the concept, neither does the salesrep.
E-MAIL TWO:
"Hi,
This customer has an order ready but they don’t want to give it to me unless they’ve been approved for terms."
Comment: What makes you think that I appreciate blackmail?
E-MAIL THREE:
"Hi,
OUR terms are Net 60. You do not dictate the terms. I will give you net 30 this time only!!! If you want to do business with us EVER again you are going to have to change your practices."
Comment: Bite me, bitch.
What we have here, in all three cases, is a failure to comprehend.
They re-thought their operating paradigms, and came to precisely the wrong conclusions. Especially as regards the 'underlying desirable progression'.
Bad monkey - no banana.
Again, net thirty is a privilege. Purchasing merchandise on a prepaid basis is always an option.
Please have your credit card ready.
Please remember, net thirty is a privilege.
PRIH..... VIH..... LIDJ!
I can revoke that privilege (or refuse to grant it) if something suggests to me that you might not fully wish to co-operate with the 'underlying desirable progression'.
What that means is, I release your order on net thirty terms if you have a clean record.
The invoice for that order is generated immediately after shipment, and sent to you.
You pay the invoice reasonably close to the due-date, which is thirty days after the shipment went out the warehouse door.
A few days late, no problem.
It is a simple idea. Up until 2009 you understood it perfectly well.
E-MAIL ONE:
"Hi,
The customer will pay the past-due invoices if we agree to increase their credit limit. Please advise asap, as I have new orders in hand."
Comment: This customer doesn't understand the concept, neither does the salesrep.
E-MAIL TWO:
"Hi,
This customer has an order ready but they don’t want to give it to me unless they’ve been approved for terms."
Comment: What makes you think that I appreciate blackmail?
E-MAIL THREE:
"Hi,
OUR terms are Net 60. You do not dictate the terms. I will give you net 30 this time only!!! If you want to do business with us EVER again you are going to have to change your practices."
Comment: Bite me, bitch.
What we have here, in all three cases, is a failure to comprehend.
They re-thought their operating paradigms, and came to precisely the wrong conclusions. Especially as regards the 'underlying desirable progression'.
Bad monkey - no banana.
Again, net thirty is a privilege. Purchasing merchandise on a prepaid basis is always an option.
Please have your credit card ready.
Friday, October 02, 2009
HOBBIT SMOKE - VIRGINIA WOODS
Three days ago I purchased some tins of a tobacco which I had never tasted before, but did not intend to smoke for quite a while, seeing as I have a sufficiency of already opened tins that need to be diminished first.
And I stated so in this post:
http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2009/09/nasty-hot-twiggy-bizarre-nauseating.html
The tobacco was described by various reviewers in the most unflattering terms. Bizarre, head-ache inducing, tasting like pencil eraser, and leaving your tongue feeling like it had been napalmed.
[Per some of the cognoscenti here: http://www.tobaccoreviews.com/ in this section:
http://www.tobaccoreviews.com/blend_detail.cfm?ALPHA=V&TID=785 ]
Their horrid statements perked my curiosity no end, but I was firm in my resolve; I would wait several months ere trying it myself.
Ummm.
Bought an extra tin, for sampling, two days ago. So much for firm resolve.
Yes.
VIRGINIA WOODS
McClelland Tobacco Company
"Formulated for a smooth, rich flavor with an incomparable woodsy aroma. Blended from matured Red Cake, Stoved Black Virginia, wide-cut Bright Virginia and other premium tobaccos."
Trust me, the idiots who panned it didn't know what they were talking about.
It's not bad at all.
Virginia Woods is a variegated mixture of ribbon-cut leaf, that once aired (to get rid of the excess moisture) yields a pleasant and not particularly complicated smoke. There is a note of natural sweetness.
Anyone familiar with the Baai Tabak (ribbon-cut mixtures of aircured and fluecured tobaccos) once commonly available in the Netherlands will recognize much here that is charming. No, it isn't something you can hot-box; inveterate smokers of Oriental mixtures should probably avoid it, along with people who only understand flakes. This tobacco is not for you.
I am very pleased with this product, and will probably finish the tin well before the end of the month. Normally I am not too impressed with McClelland, but this is one product that in my estimation has much virtue.
1974 - 1978
McClelland's Virginia Woods reminds me pleasurably of my mis-spent youth (mid-teens in Valkenswaard, North Brabant, Netherlands).
Summer afternoons in the upstairs living room, dust motes dancing in the sunbeams, a soughing in the leaves of the apple tree in the courtyard. Few other sounds: the rustling of a page being turned, a clink of a teacup.
My nose again recalls the faint aromas in the vicinity of my dad's desk - a smoke echo, the pale metallic perfume of the alloys formerly used in drafting equipment, inks, and the armpitty tang of sharpened pencils.
This tobacco may leave you a little light-headed. Virginias tend towards nicotine. But you will be of good cheer. Have some tea.
TOBACCO INDEX
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
And I stated so in this post:
http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2009/09/nasty-hot-twiggy-bizarre-nauseating.html
The tobacco was described by various reviewers in the most unflattering terms. Bizarre, head-ache inducing, tasting like pencil eraser, and leaving your tongue feeling like it had been napalmed.
[Per some of the cognoscenti here: http://www.tobaccoreviews.com/ in this section:
http://www.tobaccoreviews.com/blend_detail.cfm?ALPHA=V&TID=785 ]
Their horrid statements perked my curiosity no end, but I was firm in my resolve; I would wait several months ere trying it myself.
Ummm.
Bought an extra tin, for sampling, two days ago. So much for firm resolve.
Yes.
VIRGINIA WOODS
McClelland Tobacco Company
"Formulated for a smooth, rich flavor with an incomparable woodsy aroma. Blended from matured Red Cake, Stoved Black Virginia, wide-cut Bright Virginia and other premium tobaccos."
Trust me, the idiots who panned it didn't know what they were talking about.
It's not bad at all.
Virginia Woods is a variegated mixture of ribbon-cut leaf, that once aired (to get rid of the excess moisture) yields a pleasant and not particularly complicated smoke. There is a note of natural sweetness.
Anyone familiar with the Baai Tabak (ribbon-cut mixtures of aircured and fluecured tobaccos) once commonly available in the Netherlands will recognize much here that is charming. No, it isn't something you can hot-box; inveterate smokers of Oriental mixtures should probably avoid it, along with people who only understand flakes. This tobacco is not for you.
I am very pleased with this product, and will probably finish the tin well before the end of the month. Normally I am not too impressed with McClelland, but this is one product that in my estimation has much virtue.
1974 - 1978
McClelland's Virginia Woods reminds me pleasurably of my mis-spent youth (mid-teens in Valkenswaard, North Brabant, Netherlands).
Summer afternoons in the upstairs living room, dust motes dancing in the sunbeams, a soughing in the leaves of the apple tree in the courtyard. Few other sounds: the rustling of a page being turned, a clink of a teacup.
My nose again recalls the faint aromas in the vicinity of my dad's desk - a smoke echo, the pale metallic perfume of the alloys formerly used in drafting equipment, inks, and the armpitty tang of sharpened pencils.
This tobacco may leave you a little light-headed. Virginias tend towards nicotine. But you will be of good cheer. Have some tea.
TOBACCO INDEX
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
AND NOW FOR SOME BESTIALITY!
This blog is always fascinated by all manner of sexual shenanigans. Including several juicy perversions. It's an intellectual thing.
But this is a first for us: BESTIALITY.
Actually, it should be called ANTHROPIALITY ....... given that the poor human is the victim, and the beast is the perpetrator.
http://www.break.com/index/rare-bird-humps-photographers-head.html
OR:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xNAkdHKx9SM
A kakapo ('Night Parrot') decides that a videographer's head looks tempting, hops on his neck and starts, errrrrm, eh, mmmmm.... .... .... .... acting romantic. Yeah, that's it..... 'romantic'.
QUOTE:
"Kakapo are critically endangered; as of April 2009, only 125 living individuals are known, most of which have been given names."
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kakapo
"Kakapo are a curious species and have been known to interact with humans. Conservation staff and volunteers have engaged extensively with some Kakapo, and they are known to have distinct personalities."
END QUOTE.
The hapless victim was able to identify his assailant. By name.
Sirroco.
Don't say I never show you a good time.
But this is a first for us: BESTIALITY.
Actually, it should be called ANTHROPIALITY ....... given that the poor human is the victim, and the beast is the perpetrator.
http://www.break.com/index/rare-bird-humps-photographers-head.html
OR:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xNAkdHKx9SM
A kakapo ('Night Parrot') decides that a videographer's head looks tempting, hops on his neck and starts, errrrrm, eh, mmmmm.... .... .... .... acting romantic. Yeah, that's it..... 'romantic'.
QUOTE:
"Kakapo are critically endangered; as of April 2009, only 125 living individuals are known, most of which have been given names."
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kakapo
"Kakapo are a curious species and have been known to interact with humans. Conservation staff and volunteers have engaged extensively with some Kakapo, and they are known to have distinct personalities."
END QUOTE.
The hapless victim was able to identify his assailant. By name.
Sirroco.
Don't say I never show you a good time.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
RENDANG
An incomplete list of Padang food, followed by a recipe for the most well-known Padang dish.
The names are in Indonesian, not Minangkabau. This blogger is familiar with Indonesian and a few other languages in the East Indies, but not the Minangkabau tongue.
Ayam panggang = chicken simmered in coconut milk, then grilled.
Dendeng balado = grilled beef strips with lots of red chilies.
Gulai ayam = coconut milk curry chicken with hardboiled eggs.
Gulai cumi cumi = coconut milk squid curry.
Gulai daun paku = fern tips curry.
Gulai hati = coconut milk curry beef heart.
Gulai ikan = coconut milk curry fish.
Gulai itik = curried duck.
Gulai kacang panjang = long bean curry.
Gulai kambing = goat curry.
Gulai otak = curried calf's brain.
Gulai rabung = bamboo shoot curry.
Gulai tahu telur = tofu and hardboiled egg curry.
Ikan goreng = fried fish.
Kripik kentang balado = crispy fried potato with chilies.
Kurma = spicy meat curry.
Lemang = pressed glutinous rice cooked in coconut milk.
Nasi goreng = fried rice with green chilies, shallots, fish.
Rendang = meat stewed in coconut milk with ginger, turmeric, and chilies.
Sambal balado = very hot Padang-style chili paste.
RENDANG
3 lbs beef, large cubes.
3 onions, chopped.
3 - 5 cloves of garlic, chopped.
Equal measure minced galangal, ginger.
One cup of Sambal Ulek - or less, if you glow in the dark.
6 stems of lemongrass.
1 Tbs coriander.
1½ tsp turmeric.
1 tsp ground cumin.
3 lime leaves (djeruk perut).
3 cups of coconut milk.
1 tsp of tamarind mooshed in a quarter cup of hot water.
Salt.
In your food processor whir onion, garlic, galangal, ginger, sambal, and spices till smooth. Use a little of the coconut milk or some water to facilitate.
Coat the meat with this and let stand a while before cooking.
To cook, dump meat and gloop into the cooking pot, add the remaining ingredients and bring to a boil. Turn heat low and simmer till the liquid has been entirely taken up by the meat - about an hour and a half. Remove the lemon grass. Then raise heat and gild the chunks in the oily paste - not too much, don't burn anything.
This recipe is sufficient for a family, and there will be leftovers.
Suggested accompaniments: rice, chopped cucumber, chicken broth with a squeeze of lime, various raw and cooked vegetables, plus sambals and toasted dry condiments.
Grilled chicken and steamed fish additionally will make it a feast.
Please note: Rendang is best made with either water buffalo or super-annuated moo-cow. Your butcher may be unfamiliar with either. The meat has to have a certain density.
You would typically make it after a village sacrifice, that being also when those who have left return and feasts are held.
The names are in Indonesian, not Minangkabau. This blogger is familiar with Indonesian and a few other languages in the East Indies, but not the Minangkabau tongue.
Ayam panggang = chicken simmered in coconut milk, then grilled.
Dendeng balado = grilled beef strips with lots of red chilies.
Gulai ayam = coconut milk curry chicken with hardboiled eggs.
Gulai cumi cumi = coconut milk squid curry.
Gulai daun paku = fern tips curry.
Gulai hati = coconut milk curry beef heart.
Gulai ikan = coconut milk curry fish.
Gulai itik = curried duck.
Gulai kacang panjang = long bean curry.
Gulai kambing = goat curry.
Gulai otak = curried calf's brain.
Gulai rabung = bamboo shoot curry.
Gulai tahu telur = tofu and hardboiled egg curry.
Ikan goreng = fried fish.
Kripik kentang balado = crispy fried potato with chilies.
Kurma = spicy meat curry.
Lemang = pressed glutinous rice cooked in coconut milk.
Nasi goreng = fried rice with green chilies, shallots, fish.
Rendang = meat stewed in coconut milk with ginger, turmeric, and chilies.
Sambal balado = very hot Padang-style chili paste.
RENDANG
3 lbs beef, large cubes.
3 onions, chopped.
3 - 5 cloves of garlic, chopped.
Equal measure minced galangal, ginger.
One cup of Sambal Ulek - or less, if you glow in the dark.
6 stems of lemongrass.
1 Tbs coriander.
1½ tsp turmeric.
1 tsp ground cumin.
3 lime leaves (djeruk perut).
3 cups of coconut milk.
1 tsp of tamarind mooshed in a quarter cup of hot water.
Salt.
In your food processor whir onion, garlic, galangal, ginger, sambal, and spices till smooth. Use a little of the coconut milk or some water to facilitate.
Coat the meat with this and let stand a while before cooking.
To cook, dump meat and gloop into the cooking pot, add the remaining ingredients and bring to a boil. Turn heat low and simmer till the liquid has been entirely taken up by the meat - about an hour and a half. Remove the lemon grass. Then raise heat and gild the chunks in the oily paste - not too much, don't burn anything.
This recipe is sufficient for a family, and there will be leftovers.
Suggested accompaniments: rice, chopped cucumber, chicken broth with a squeeze of lime, various raw and cooked vegetables, plus sambals and toasted dry condiments.
Grilled chicken and steamed fish additionally will make it a feast.
Please note: Rendang is best made with either water buffalo or super-annuated moo-cow. Your butcher may be unfamiliar with either. The meat has to have a certain density.
You would typically make it after a village sacrifice, that being also when those who have left return and feasts are held.
GET ME A BUCKET!
File this under 'unfavourable reviews', even though I have not read the book.
Nor do I have any intention of doing so.
Life is too short.
I am not a masochist.
Quote:
"Palin, in collaboration with author Lynn Vincent, completed her 400-page book just four months ... "
SOURCE:
http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/33110765/ns/today-today_books/?GT1=43001
From Wikipedia:
"Lynn Vincent is features editor at World Magazine where she covers news, politics and current events. Vincent is a U.S. Navy veteran. She lives in San Diego, California with her husband Danny and their two children.
Vincent is the co-author of a number of books, including Going Rogue with Sarah Palin and Donkey Cons along with Robert Stacy McCain. Her third book, Same Kind of Different as Me was released in June 2006 by W Publishing."
From Wikipedia:
"WORLD Magazine is a biweekly Christian news magazine, published in the United States of America, and based in Asheville, North Carolina. WORLD differs from most other news magazines in that its declared perspective is one of conservative evangelical Protestantism. Its mission statement is "To report, interpret, and illustrate the news in a timely, accurate, enjoyable, and arresting fashion from a perspective committed to the Bible as the inerrant Word of God." "
Oh cheeses!
Nor do I have any intention of doing so.
Life is too short.
I am not a masochist.
Quote:
"Palin, in collaboration with author Lynn Vincent, completed her 400-page book just four months ... "
SOURCE:
http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/33110765/ns/today-today_books/?GT1=43001
From Wikipedia:
"Lynn Vincent is features editor at World Magazine where she covers news, politics and current events. Vincent is a U.S. Navy veteran. She lives in San Diego, California with her husband Danny and their two children.
Vincent is the co-author of a number of books, including Going Rogue with Sarah Palin and Donkey Cons along with Robert Stacy McCain. Her third book, Same Kind of Different as Me was released in June 2006 by W Publishing."
From Wikipedia:
"WORLD Magazine is a biweekly Christian news magazine, published in the United States of America, and based in Asheville, North Carolina. WORLD differs from most other news magazines in that its declared perspective is one of conservative evangelical Protestantism. Its mission statement is "To report, interpret, and illustrate the news in a timely, accurate, enjoyable, and arresting fashion from a perspective committed to the Bible as the inerrant Word of God." "
Oh cheeses!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
A LURKING HORROR
There is a bag of chips hiding on your path to work today, ready to ambush you with it's crispy crunchy goodness. Mmm, salt, grease, str...
