Monday, December 31, 2012

Hello 2013

End of one helluva year. Some good, some bad, insanity, tragedy, hilarity. I'm hoping, in the words of Colonel Potter, that the new year is a damn sight better than the old, and that all y'all see peace, love, and beauty.

Bring it...

Love, paleo

Sunday, December 30, 2012

Random NFL Week 17 Notes: Grain Of Salt Not Included

Chicago Bears @ Detroit Lions
Tough one, actually. Detroit is far and away the dirtiest team in the NFL, hands down, has been for a long time – the Lomas Brown thing hardly surprises. The Bears? Just evil, the city of Chicago, evil. Also, annoyingly good, enough to win, and give us another chance to make Cutler beat up his sideline.

Tampa Bay Bucs @ Atlanta Falcons
Atlanta has the same problem as Green Bay, and I assume Falcons fans have the same complaint I have – listen to the national media, especially YOU, ESPgoddamN, and you would never know there was a team there, much less the NFC No. 1 seed.

NY Jets
Please, dear FSM, if’n Rex Ryan would shut the hell up, I’d appreciate it. A lot. And Tebow? Look, I’ve softened a bit on the boy. He is still a sanctimonious god-bothering jackhole who has no business playing QB in the NFL, although he might make a good TE or FB, but he has truly gotten a raw deal. Denver, 100 miles approx from Colorado Springs, the sanctimonious god-bothering jackhole center of the universe? Of course he was the biggest story in town, but Denver was not without talent, and now with an actual QB they are likely to be No. 1 seed in the AFC. And then the Jets? You poor bastard.

Carolina Panthers @ New Orleans Saints
Cam Newton, regardless of his Terrible Twos, is having a good year. Watch out for him long into the future, especially if he grows up a little. This game may cause the scoreboard operator conniptions.

NY Giants
New York is suffering a poultry shortage, as Eli Manning has run out of chickens to sacrifice (Tagliabue ftaghn, Ia, IA!). But the rotten sumbitch still seems to have our number.

Miami Dolphins @ New England Patriots
Miami is a team on the way up, Bill Belicheck is Satan’s less pleasant brother. I have no reason to root for this game but come on Fins!

St. Louis Rams @ Seattle Seahawks
The Seahawks are on a roll, and Russell Wilson is a good Badger, but after his post-game interview for the GB-Seattle Fail Mary game (“What push-off? Looked good to me! We worked hard and earned this win…”) he needs pain, and we need to see the miniature slapnuts again in Lambeau.

Dallas Equus @ Washington Redskins
I hate Dallas. With the burning hate of a thousand million hatey burning thingies. Almost as much as the Bears. I also think Dan Snyder, owner of the Redskins, is a human whack-a-mole game. Tough to call...

And of course:

THE GREEN BAY PACKERS @ Minnesota Pop Warner League Vikings
Lest there be any doubt, I wish to humiliate the Queens and co-workers. But I has one minor hitch in my needs – I actually respect 2 Vikings players, Chris Kluwe, who is a helluva human being although I still need him to shank every punt today, and Adrian Peterson, who again seems like a genuinely good guy and a fantastic athlete. I actually would have loved to see him break the rushing record – but it cannot be allowed. If he’d run for 208 yards last week and only needed 94 today, I’d have lived with him breaking the record on us. As it is, however, he has to go down in flames. The rest of the Queens shoulda stayed on the Love Boat.

Disagree at your peril. W00t!!1!!

Saturday, December 29, 2012

Casey Kasem Lacks Perspective

Warning: Tangents. Deal.

Driving to work this morning, I listened to the Oldies Station, which until Christmas Day had been the Christmas station. It had been one of my favorite stations, no damnable DJ’s (so probably a nationwide station like Jack-FM, with local news to give it that ‘local flavor’ – in other words, it’s personality was kept in a hard drive, but it had not been bad. However, Jack-FM should be razed, the ground salted, any reminders of it consigned to the dustbin of the dustbin of history), until it decided that the 1980’s were now considered ‘Oldies’.*

They were doing a retrospective of the American Top 100 for the year 1978, hosted by Casey Kasem. The first words I heard from Shaggy were, to paraphrase, “What would it feel like to resign from being as astronaut just as the rocket is taking off? This young man found out, but he is doing alright for himself. Bob Welch went solo from Fleetwood Mac and here has the first of his two songs on the year’s Top 100.”

Let’s break this down a touch.

Okay, that is knowledge that I didn’t have. I have a soft spot for 70’s cheese (my dad’s Olds Delta 88 with the AM radio), and am familiar with Bob Welch from the song Sentimental Lady (video is deeply weird...)

which I quite like. A check of the Wikipedia shows that Bob Welch was an important member of Fleetwood Mac in the years between Peter Green and Lindsey Buckingham/Stevie Nicks, and has been given a fair amount of credit with keeping a Mac alive until the BuckingNicks soap opera blew into town.

However, this was 1978. A year after Rumours, a couple after Fleetwood Mac. It would appear that Welch’s album, French Kiss, did alright, but the Fleetwood Mac rocket had not merely launched at that point, it had sold umpteen million copies already and were well on their way to being one of my most hated bands (except for the song Tusk, basically.)

'Cuz marching band. Yes, I’m a geek. No judging.

‘Doing alright for himself’ compared to hourly rotation on every damn ’classic rock’** station in every redneck market in America?

Perspective, Mr. Kasem.

A few songs up in the countdown, Casey introduced the group as having stolen two cello players and a violinist from the London Symphony Orchestra. He was getting at Electric Light Orchestra (ELO), who I also rather like, the song was Turn To Stone but I would submit this. 

Using the logical thought processes of the likely late 20 something-year-old men that these three were, nightly cocaine-fueled 19 year old groupie orgies compared to command performances for the Queen, something they had already proved they could do and could resume at a later age after recovery from sexual exhaustion? Stolen? Seriously? Bring on the Plaster Casters.

Perspective, Mr. Kasem.

*The 1980’s, I was there, were responsible for much greatvitalmusic, in many and diverse genres. Top 40 was not one of them. If 1980’s Top 40 were to be ground to itty-bitties, put in a water bottle, and sprinkled on the white shag rug of history by some spectral vacuum cleaner salesman, the Cosmic Oreck would wrinkle in fear, and flee, its cord between its, umm, rollerball. Analogy fail. Fuck.
**I have shared my feelings re: classic rock and the morning zoos before – I think they need, so very much, to go away. Beyond that, though, hell, if they could just play something different every once in a while, there’s a lot of ‘classic rock’, more than just FM or the damnable, horrible, accused Eagles or Bachmann Turner Overdrive. Blue Oyster Cult is more than just cowbell. George Harrison made solo albums as well. C’mon, ya bastards.

Thursday, December 27, 2012

You Can't Make Wine With Sour Grapes

We are making supper, watching a bit of TV, and Sweetie is enjoying a shockingly good chocolate grasshopper, whilst I enjoy a bit of pre-dinner schadenfreude.

It's been entertainment galore watching the Pubbies eat their own livers, including eldest-yet-still-military-eligible-Romney-Son Tick grab daddy by his magic underwear and heave him under the nearest 47% person conveyance vehicle. Ha. Ha.
“He wanted to be president less than anyone I’ve met in my life. He had no desire to . . . run,” said Tagg, who worked with his mother, Ann, to persuade his father to seek the presidency. “If he could have found someone else to take his place . . . he would have been ecstatic to step aside. He is a very private person who loves his family deeply and wants to be with them, but he has deep faith in God and he loves his country, but he doesn’t love the attention.”             Via Boston Globe
 "This was a very difficult year, with the strength of the Obama ground game and the fact that Romney just didn't inspire much enthusiasm," said Jamie Radtke, an unsuccessful 2012 Senate candidate and founder of the Virginia Federation of Tea Party Patriots, a statewide umbrella group that continues to expand and now has over 60 member organizations.        Via WSJ
Tea-party activist Greg Fettig, a founder of Hoosiers for a Conservative Senate and a backer of Mr. Mourdock, said the main lesson from the loss is that activists need to be sure the campaigns they support are well-run.        Via WSJ

Dear TeaBaggers and Trog Romney,

Are you goddamn serious? 

Greg Fettig, your candidate said that rape from pregnancy was God's will. What would be your definition of a well run campaign? Oh yeah, sneak the hateful bastard under the radar and then let him bully women to his heart's fill. Class all the way, sir.

Jamie Radtke, Willard was NEVER the popular candidate with your little KoffeeKlatchKlan. Your folks admitted that frequently during the race, but the feeling was that with enough dogwhistles and legislative shenanigans and gerrymandering, you could turn out enough hateful inbreds to make the scary blah man go away. Do not pretend this is some tremendous insight. Also, apparently you did not inspire much enthusiasm. 

Taggart, you wanker, the thing your dad truly loves is money, and he pissed away a pile of it. Not all or even much of it his own, of course, but a PILE of green. Money that under his normal operating procedure would be sent abroad, to keep the rest of his money company. Principles, assuming he ever had any, he pissed away freely, saying anything, contradicting himself in the next clause, tossing the collective salad of any group likely to vote for him. Yes, he wanted to be president, and you're dumb.

 I do wonder what stage of the grieving process this is, is this denial or step 3a, cognitive dissonance. Assholes.

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

I Love Christmas!

Happy Merrichrishanukwantivus!

I love the end of the year, the holiday season, Christmas in my (Catholic) family (with a heaping helping, after a certain age, of Midnight mass, and looking at the stars on the way home hoping to see either Rudolph or the Star of Bethlehem - and yes, this may explain a great deal about teh way my brain works...) I like being nice to and seeing my loved ones, love giving gifts, (hate crowded stores with the burning of something really really warm), love being with my sweetie!

I've got to work today, have a little fun if possible, certainly not going to get into any major rebuilds, putting out a snack table. 

Happy day to one and all - show someone love, kids!

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Sports Don't Mean Much Ever, But...

Mason Crosby needs to be released. Now. Mid-second quarter. Set an NFL record for hustling a dumb bastard out of a stadium. I want him in street clothes outside, selling apples on a corner. Or in a house in the everglades, surrounded by his own graffiti.


That's all.

UPDATE: 10:10 4th Quarter.



*This term may be used for all Jim Carrey films, but Ace Ventura and the Mask were passibly non-terrible.
**See above, or ibid, or et al, or whatever the hell.

Friday, December 14, 2012

New Rule

Please allow me to make a new rule for the world.

ANYONE. (Yes, you, Mr. Huckabee, Mr. Fischer, all you other nutjobs). Who has made the statement that God has decided that 20 children needed to be slaughtered because God is all angerface that his kid wasn't included in the yearbook photos, IS A SOCIOPATH.

You have left the building, so shut up before you wake the neighbors.


You are not welcome here.

Won't Even Try A Snarky Title

A parent, and a second suspect, in custody, shoots up a school in Connecticut, leaving over 2 dozen dead, including as many as 18 children. One ENTIRE CLASSROOM of students remains unaccounted for at this time.

The White House, and therefore the president, who I lent my support to, for what it is worth, shrugged it off. No, Mr. President, today is exactly the day to discuss our NON-EXISTENT GUN LAWS in the face of potential political 'backlash' from those with the .357 penis extensions.

Our religious leaders weigh in - Bryan Fischer of the American Family Association, bravely protecting us from teh Gay:

I'm all aflutter waiting for Fox News to blame Susan Rice, and the NRA's call for the arming of kindergartners.

We suck. We absolutely suck.

I am ill.


Per Zombie, and then via ThinkProgress, President Obama's statement was far more in the vein of 'let's fix this shit.' Thank you very much, Mr. President. Please. Now.

I am still sick to my soul. Bastards.

Friday, December 7, 2012

I'd Actually Be Happier If They Would Get Their Memes Straight

As an Evil Midnight Bomber What Bombs At Midnight, as well as an electrician, I am a bug for logic. Whether creating an explosive device with nothing but red wires, thus kerfluffling the easily kefluffleable, or designing a ladder logic program to make things go beep beep whirrr, I count on (whilst, admittedly often being failed by) things working either in a complementary fashion, or in an effective, efficient order. I don't particularly handle things well what don't go teh way I expect them to. (Ask Sweetie.)

I would not make a good Teabagger.

Now, given the hangups and hatred of the rightwing entertainment complex, their desire to see women in the kitchen as well as blood (non-white male) in the streets has allowed this remarkable bit of cognitive dissonance.

Mr. Wayne LaPierre, famous paranoid coward and gun masturbator, NRA President, stated that Kassandra Perkins, the girlfriend of the football player who killed her and then himself* would still be alive today had she been packing heat.
Via TP.

In a Fox News Op-Ed, an anti-feminist author states that women will be much happier and comfortable being dominated by men, accept it and have babbies ever after.
Also via TP.



Get yer damn messaging straight so we can smack you down, please.

*Dear Internet,

I want to make an early Christmas wish for the families of Kassandra Perkins, Christina Taylor-Green (one of those killed at Tucson), all the kids killed in Norway at the summer camps, and thousands others, in even recent history, killed in high profile cases. As a society, we find ourselves identifying such events by the names of the killers - the victim's names don't seem to matter. Every mention of the Perkins murder is headlined by "Kansas City Chiefs Linebacker Xxxxxx Xxxxxx In Murder Suicide", even the ThinkProgress article, and I like ThinkProgress, or "Xxxxx Xxxxxxx On Trial In Arizona" or" Right Wing Media Darling Xxxxxx Xxxxxx Pleads Innocent in Norway". I have a better idea. Let the names of the killers fall away. Honor the victims.



There IS a Flying Spaghetti Monster

I have often expressed my wish that Bret Bielema, Head Coach of the Only Big Ten Team That Matters*, the Wisconsin Badgers, retire, or be hired as a philosophy professor, or fall into the penguin cage at the Como Zoo and be found in the morning in a state that I cannot photoshop.

Oooo, what's this - 

Showing his usual high class, and world-beating-but-losing-the-Rose-Bowl play-calling ability, in under two and a half days after whompering Nebraska for the Big Ten Championship, Bielema fled for the lower grade requiring confines of Arkansas. Good riddance! And, we finally have a chance in a  Rose Bowl (it hurts so much to type those words for a team with Montee Ball and Jared Abbrederis, but that is what teh Bretster hath wrought).

*Must elaborate. Penn State, I don't have enough time or internet to 'splain why they are evil - c'mon court system! Ohio State? Cheating evillers, but especially the "Cool Coach", Urban Meyer, Tebow enabler. Nebraska? Must be careful here, Mother in law may be reading... Hmm. I LOVE THE THUGS FROM NEBRASKA, especially Ndamakong Suh, who has done a wonderful job helping Green Bay. Michigan and Michigan State - historically evil, annoyingly good, home of my uncle who's a pain in the ass. Illinois, home of Chicago, hog butcherer to the world, and people with no knowledge of the actual value of lakefront cabins, FIBs (Fucking Illinois Bastards). Iowa - provides the hogs to Illinois, also home to Bachmann. Indiana will never win anything unless the basketball players learn to play football. The Minnesota Gophers haven't won Paul Bunyan's Axe for something like 314 years.

I have to give full props to Northwestern - great college, I don't mind seeing them do well, just not against us.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

I Have No Clue How I Have Ever Missed This




Mexico's Island Of The Dolls. The link here is more extensive. A gentleman, some years ago, in Mexico City, found the body of a girl in a canal, and wishing to appease her spirit, or give her indulgence (in the Catholic sense),


Disclaimer, besides being an enormous nerd, I am also into the paranormal, and the odder corners of the universe, and I HATE GODDAMN DOLLS, creepy as shit. Add age, lack of maintenance, exposure to the elements, and decay. Mix well. Eeuurgghh.

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Does This Make Me A Successful Businessman?

Whilst perusing proselytizing posters in our corporate building today, on a quest for coffee, I noted we have a strong corporate presence in Canary Wharf, London. 

Now, recalling recent history, and the destruction of, hell, the turning into gravel and blood of, Canary Wharf, in general, and Torchwood One specifically, during the batlle for Earth between the Daleks and Cybermen, I'm thinking there may be some slots open - paleo's moving on up  to LONDON! 

Or, preferably, Land's End, but beggars can't be stuff and such, a bird in teh hand is worth a hand in a bush, wevs!

(sweetie - "That's just wrong!")
(paleo - "Just a bit of double entendre, honey - ")
(sweetie - "No, schmuck, business don't work that way! And you are a complete nerd!")

Or, p'raps not. Never mind. Fudge. Imma keep hoping.

Oh, and the quest for coffee! Failed. But I did find an excellent liquid printed circuit board finisher. Called 'Douchey and Gerbert', or some such stuff.

The First Rule Of Peak Wingnut...

My prognostication skills rate poorly. Just 2 days ago I thought Louie the Lizard had won the Wingnutolympics

with his discovery that the Black Sith had given Libya to Al Qaeda for his own sinister purposes, sharks with frikkin laser beams, or helping sick people not be, you know, sick. Hell, he had gone so far into the TimeCube I thought it an end to the years wild wacky wacistness!

Bouy, that opinion sunk quickly.

I present to you the theory of the Butthurt Bearded Sky Fairy

“I opened up a birthday present that I didn’t like, and I said it right out, ‘Oh, I don’t like those,’” the radio host recalled. “And it just crushed — and the person that gave me gift was there. You know, I just kind of blurted it out, ‘I don’t like those.’ And it just crushed that person. It was enormously insensitive of me to do that.”
“And you think, that’s kind of how we’re treating God when he’s given us these gifts of abundant and inexpensive and effective fuel sources,” Fischer added. “And we don’t thank him for it and we don’t use it.”
“You know, God has buried those treasures there because he loves to see us find them.”
Bryan Fischer of the AFA team, be proud, quite a feat!* The refs are still running to place your marker! How much do you think I can bench press?

*Note: Current results, finals dependent upon blood sampling.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Peak Wingnut? Smeghead Into The Lead!

Whilst writing my last TL;DR post, an expected contender for the Wingnut Warrior trophy made his play, and a strong one, Louie's going for broke. 

For our audience at home, we will say that with this all-in strategy, he better be careful, if one of the distinguished gentlemen of the republican party in a flail fight tries to match his bid, Mr. Gohmert will have to go very far afield to top this. He's got a reputation as a banger, and is clearly dissociative, but this one is stone fucking out there:

From TP.
GOHMERT: What was all the rage a year and a half ago? It was the Arab Spring and how wonderful it was! This administration really embraced blowing out Mubarak – yes, do it up by all means – getting rid of Qaddafi, it wasn’t enough to send verbal accolades, this administration sent planes and bombs and support to oust Qaddafi so that al-Qaeda and the Muslim Brotherhood could take over Libya.


If Only I'd Have Known What I Was Losing...

...I still would not have voted for Willard!

Damn, I didn't know how good I had it, minorities lining up to kiss my boots, hot and cold running sex, neighborhood scamps named Lumpy, Scooter, Beaver, and Vagina, rolling barrel hoops down the street and putting upwards of 37 corsages on their dates before the cotillion. Having a sarsaparilla at the soda jerk. I. Am. A. White. Guy.


From Cesca.

From Smoking Hot Politics.

From Jezebel.

My privilege is being taken away! Now I'll never have that second car elevator, all thanks to the horrible subhumans who voted for the Kenyislamunosocialascist Anti-Christ. Woe is democracy - we is ruined!

Holy shit! I voted for the Kenyis...rist! Stuff! The brain, it is washed! Woe is me! Why would I do such foolishyness?

Oh, yeah, that's right. I'm not a pig. Try not to be, anyhow, my issues (I make no particular secret of them) dealing with people, especially those I do not know, do not approach any form of wishing someone else ill, or seeing success as a zero sum game. I have to do a little tangent onto economic theory, as I understand it, to make some of my points.*

"If the blahs get health care doctors will kill my grandmother!" Shut up. If everyone gets health care, everyone will be healthy, and the market, (remember the market? Pubs worship it as a little understood idol, believing that if they clap hard enough, and rub its genita forehead, yeah, forehead, long enough, that they will be rewarded, with shoeshine boys and hot and cold running blowjobs and sons named Beaver and third car elevators), with more demand for doctors and healthcare workers, will create a need for healthcare, thus causing more people to go into healthcare, and if we can keep the hands of greedballs and insurance companies out of healthcare, the healthcare workers will be paid a decent wage and then will, in turn, as they demand the necessities of life, buy houses and sofas and carrots and pet ocelots, and turtles all the way down. All this rambling nonsense is sort of an analogy of Keynesian economics, in popular parlance, demand-side. It's worked for quite some time...

Until the unholy marriage of greed and economic urban legend in the 80's called trickle-down. From the wackadoopedia:

The economist John Kenneth Galbraith noted that "trickle-down economics" had been tried before in the United States in the 1890s under the name "horse and sparrow theory." He wrote, "Mr.David Stockman has said that supply-side economics was merely a cover for the trickle-down approach to economic policy—what an older and less elegant generation called the horse-and-sparrow theory: 'If you feed the horse enough oats, some will pass through to the road for the sparrows.'
I love this statement. I want to cuddle with this statement in a movie theatre watching 50 Shades Of Grey, teh Unrated Version. Anyone who genuinely believes in trickle-down economics as either a workable or moral theory needs to go back to elementary school. 

The statement 'a rising tide lifts all boats' is correct, but in the demand sense.

This rubbish in our rear-view, I'll proceed. 

Messrs. O'Reilly, Cohen, Stevens, and Koko the sadfaced coke clown mourn the loss of "traditional America", but it ain't'nt the America that springs into the minds of their octogenarian, gold-bugging audiences, who hear 'traditional America' and set their blinders to "1950". Which not only did not exist in the way their old Viewfinder slides tell them, but by any measure would have had them hollering Communism until their tea-bag adorned tri-corner hats immolated from the rage-fires burning in their brains. 

The fifties in terms of racial relations, relations between the sexes, oh, yeah, the ever famous 'our daughter is visiting her aunt in Cleveland for about 9 months', general health, no so good-n-plenty. Some of the positive things from the '50s; with the MUCH higher marginal tax rates, we were able to invest in ourselves, the GI Bill, the Interstate system, an explosion of new schools. Many folks were able to go from high school to a job where they could support a family. Given the negatives of the '50s, even then, not enough people could share in the American Dream. But holy dammit, today, so few can, and even then a great deal of luck is required, and even then I guarantee you they are falling behind, while the Mormon Marauder will retreat, beaten, to his 17 houses, four car elevators, Stepford wife, and an unassuming resumption of his career as a vulture. Without a savage reconfiguration of marginal tax rates, impossible with the Talibangelist Koch-suckers holding the House of Representatives hostage, we could not replicate the '50 economies today. The last good economic era, the 90's, was built on smoke, mirrors, and debt - nothing long-term can happen until we put ourselves back to work making things, not paper instruments but widgets and anvils. (And I LOVE the Big Dog, he was great, and too much fun, but his economic expansion was fake and could not last once President Drooly Footiepajamas and his keeper blundered into the White House.)

No, the America these jackals wish for is both more recent and random. It is not an era, it is any philosophy allowing them to be bullies. From the fifties, they require the worship and deference of women and minorities. From 1980-1992 and 2000-2008, the legal financial rapaciousness popularized by Milken, Abramoff, Reed, Chuckie and Davy Koch, (the not good Grover) Norquist (Master of teh Neckbeard Extraordinaire) (seriously, have your read where recently he said we should keep the President on an Amazing Racist Dogwhistle? Read linkster, then repeat after me: Fuck him with the horse he rode in on.) Anything up to 2009, when the occupant of the White House wasn't, you know, as urban. Any time they have sent kids who ain't theirs to blow up brown people who they've never met, just like Jesus. These bullies miss being given societal approval for torturing the fat kid, the smart kid, the kid with glasses or an instrument. Miss throwing rocks at the house of the 'retired' gentlemen living together 'to save expense' because they are weird. Miss driving through the poor section of town alternately shouting n!99@r and asking where they can buy pot. Miss the simple joys of date rape of the school 'slut' who can report it all she wants but no one will care, she's a woman, so she is evil and conniving and stupid and a slut or a liar or both. Miss having woman-free boardrooms where they can talk about the size of their secretaries' jugs.

These people are sick. Sick and pathetic. These people are two things, sick and pathetic, and bloodthirsty. These people are THREE things, sick, pathetic, bloodthirsty, and ITS ALWAYS PROJECTION. I'll start over.

When are these dumb bastards gonna go away? Not now, not soon enough. But eventually. How do I know? A Kenyislamunosocialascist Anti-Christ was re-elected by a healthy margin, both popularly and electorally. Change is coming, so painfully slowly, so frustratingly gradual, but change IS coming. I did vote for President Barack Obama, and regardless of my criticisms of him, me being an enormous commie and all, I was proud to, and am happy he's in the People's House.

Although I gotta say, if he'd shut it about a 'Grand Bargain' I'd feel much better.

*Disclaimer, I am not an economist, but I have had coursework, an ability to read, and have working eyeballs and a high skill roll (17 - W00t!!) for logic.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

A Few Odd Ends

Minds out of the gutter, bitches. I'm aaallllll about teh morals.

Just a few things accumulated that did not really fit anywhere.

Dear Texas, (Oh, and how many of those 117,000 secession signatures, at last count, are from "motherdaughterauntgrannielovingpatriot, Lubbock by-God Texas" ?)

Love, democracy

Back from Halloween, my sis-in-law's SO is a big Wonder Woman fan, so much that my SIL got a Wonder Woman act for her birthday (and I f'in missed it, work, buggrit...) So, for Halloween, their puppy became

Also, I need a dog. Preferably now. Still ain't'nt quite ready, but soon.....

It is imperative that I find someone worthy of this.

One problem, it's a touch spendy for what is, in effect, a somewhat-more-useful-than-usual gag gift. P'raps my dad? No, he's fairly straight-laced, actually, loosening up a tad in retirement, but this might be a touch too far, not that he'd get mad, but he'd be embarrased, don't want to do that to him. My Sweetie already threatens to get him Viking stuff every Christmas - that would cause serious madface. My father -in-law would get the joke and have fun with it, except that it would quickly disappear into his mighty Wall-Of-Camping-Totes as the coolest camping accessory ever, which is fine, but he'd take some of the fun out of it. Serious camper, that dude.

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Deck Everyone In The Halls

Yesterday, so called “Black Friday”, a bukkake orgy of consumeristic stuff.

About mid-morning, as I finished my appointment to replace my truck window, Sweetie, being a lovely, kind, and savagely impatient woman, requested I do her a favor, given my proximity to one of the many malls in the Cities. Not the Mall of America, it would have been a short conversation, but one of the larger, somewhat more upscale malls. I adore my wife, and wish to make her happy, and this seemed reasonable. My train of thought being, ‘well, it’s noon, all the people who started shopping last night at 8 pm have hopefully had their heads pop, like a blueberry in a rotisserie oven, due to the shame of destroying someone’s Thanksgiving so that WalMart/Target/Kohl’s/Macy’s/Billy-Bob’s House Of Live Hamsters could make a couple extra bucks’.* Although I do not handle crowds well, and have in fact, over time, gotten worse at being in crowds, I thought I could deal.

In short, zoo. In short as well, holy dammit.

I couldn’t deal. Not a damn bit. In all seriousness, a fairly short exposure destroyed me physically and mentally for several hours. I was shaking. I had stomach acid that could etch stainless steel, giving me an idea for another career, but as creating such an abrasive was not, ultimately, as pleasant as many things, including repeated blows to the melon, I felt it to be an unsustainable path. It was an experience I shall not repeat, save under extraordinary circumstances, and then I’m bringing a cattle prod.

I did complete my mission, and now with some distance, have a few things to say.

I adore Christmas. I love Christmas. I am the spirit of Christmas, it is my favorite holiday. I love to give gifts. Not going to claim any particular hypocrisy, I love receiving gifts as well, but I stone get off on giving gifts. As much as people in general annoy me, especially mindless mobs, I would take a bullet for a friend and I like to show my appreciation and I love to give stuff. I understand the ‘mission to buy stuff’, it’s part of the whole ‘giving’ gig. I love to make my wife happy, makes me all warm and glowwy, and fortunately, she is very good at picking out/up the stuff I give her –
- sorry honey kidding yes I’ll be in the garage –
- and I love seeing her smile. So I get it. But I want to endorse an idea.

One gift, one good gift, for your loved ones. Good does not necessarily equate money, by the way, good equates to cool, heartfelt, smile-causing. Good equals putting some damn thought into it, if your child shows logic skills, get a Snakes And Ladders game, something you can do with your kid, rather than this year’s Torture-Your-Uncle-The-Geologist Barney or whatever the latest fad is. Fuck that shit, live like people, people.

I know this is nothing new, just my two cents, and I am very much a liberal, War-On-Christmas-What-Would-Jesus-Buy, let’s put some awesome sauce into the season rather than blind consumerism, type. 

Note: These two cents have not been endorsed by any major religions. Pat Robertson/Jerry Falwell/Saint Sarah, teh Virgin Of Wasilla say, “Buy, bitchez!”

The economy, while oh-so-painfully slowly growing**, is still poor, meaning that I feel safe guessing much of yesterday’s ejaculations were caused by the rubbing of plastic against laser scanner. Credit, by definition and design, is suxxors.*** C’mon people. Seriously?

A Plausible Pile Of Positivity

Now, since this is the beginning of the Christmas season, I am listening to the 24hr Xmas radio. Love it, honestly, I’m a real bug for Christmas, LOVE IT. I want to share a couple favorites. The first two, well, let’s face it, I is a weirdo.

Love Scully and Mulder…


Patton Oswalt does the best deconstruction of yesterdays bullshit possible…

I debated including this, due to my enormous machoness, but I assure, I love this song un-ironically, proof, that as wildly annoying Mariah Carey is, she has occasionally shown a bit of talent, and the association with ‘Love, Actually’,  a movie that I also love un-ironically, don’t hurt…

Now, I did notice, and will not post proof because my eyes will bleed, that there are now remakes of the most insipid Xmas song ever, one by the wildly entertaining (in life if not at all in the musical world) George Michael, thrill junkie/idjit extraordinaire, 'Last Christmas'. Life ain't'nt totally perfect...

It's Christmas season! W00t!!1!!!

*Seriously, y’all are Satan. Suck a tailpipe.
**Which brings another thingy this holiday season to be thankful for, that the Lords Of Kolob decided that Willard Romney is to serve a greater purpose, arising with Transformer Jesus**** in teh Last Days, thereby saving us from 4 years of the thorough eradication of the working class in this country so that Billy-Bob, of House Of Live Hamsters Fame, can build a car elevator on his estate next to those Walton scamps.
***Credit card companies? Also Satan. Gonna need a bunch of tailpipes, or all y’all gotta share.
****If you’ve been exposed to the sheer IT’S ALWAYS PROJECTION lunacy of the Left Behind books, read Fred Clark’s (Slacktivist) fisking of it. Well worth the time to drop down the rabbit hole.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Remodel Blogging Weeks 11, 12, And Fuck It

Please don't consider the apparent crabbiness of the post title to be more than merely a manifestation of my real crabbiness about the basement remodel.

I have come to hate:

Finish work
The concept and definition of 'underground'

The bathroom work continues apace, slowly, painfully taking shape. Looking at this picture, you would take the floor tile to be textured, and you would be very right, a very rough faced floor tile - my theory being that a rough surface is less slippery after vigorous shower intercour - when wet.

A couple notes regarding Thanksgiving dinner - 'twas mighty, the brisket was perfect, just a hint of brewed goodness to it, peeled apart like a Faberge Egg hit with a small grenade. The scalloped potatoes were fine, just fine, maybe could have used 5 - 10 more minutes, most of the potatoes were lovely, a few could have used a little more time. Holupser, not nearly in my mother's league, but looking to move up (the sauerkraut from a crunchy grocery store near me called Bob's Produce Ranch). Sweetie's salad was her usual perfection, life is good!

Arrangements are made to repair teh truck window tomorrow, and the sleet this afternoon (I didn't mention the sleet yet - forecast was for 55degF and windy, we had sleet, confirming again that I picked the wrong career - TV weathermen are clearly on enough acid to reproduce the collected works of Umberto Eco from memory) was brief, and Sweetie had me white trash my missing window before it arrived,.

Life is still peachy! Happy Thanksgiving y'all!

PS: Also, three cocktails, and bringing in teh Christmas boxes don't hurt none...

Thanksgiving Stuffing

Got the Replacements on teh stereo (well, sort of a stereo, sort of a cobble job, really, but wait until the basement! he cries to the winds. Ehh, see the Remodel post later today...), a rather feckin' huge coffee, and something dead in the oven. Thanksgiving morning.

We are going significantly less traditional this year, starting with not going anywhere. Sweetie and I are chillaxing, my Bro-In-Law will be here for the meal but then working, and I suspect there will be a cocktail -

OH WAIT! It's the time of year to call it a toddy!
OH WAIT! It's bleedin' 55degF today, end of November!

- cocktail or two, too, also, for me and my Babe!

In the oven right now is brisket, being slow-cooked in Cygnus X-1 Porter, from the Flat Earth Brewing Co. in St. Paul. I spoke to a few people about how to do this, one of the best chefs I know suggested actually Lambic, Kriek or Raspberry

(Sweetie just woke up, and looks like the cocktail is needed - 
"No, I'm kidding, honey, and make me one too"
- looks gorgeous and I'm very lucky.),

but while I'm a competent cook, I ain't'nt necessarily inclined to experiment today. In about an hour I haz potatoes to slice and green onions to saute for scalloped potatoes, than the saute-ing of bacon and onions for holupser, a sort of german cabbage roll, made by my mother throughout my life for special occasions. However, her substantially less culinarily instinctual son can't make cabbage rolls to save his life, so I make it as a casserole, rice, bacon, onions, and sauerkraut. Sweetie is making a tomato, cucumber, and mozzarella salad. We have, by virtue of employment, several turkeys in the freezer, but with just the three of us, and my loathing of next day turkey, unless and until I get a jerky maker, we are not going full tryptophan this year.

You never go full tryptophan.

1 + hour pause...

Sweetie requested I go to the store for a paper and MN Raffle ticket. No, to my knowledge they are not actually raffling off Minnesota, otherwise someone might win it and want to develop it - professional football team, road not causing kidney damage. The pause should not have been 1 full hour, but when I went out to my truck, it was suspiciously fresh smelling and cool. At that point I noticed the smashed window and missing stuff. Had to be kids on a smash and grab, they just grabbed out of the front seat, where I had nothing, save my lunchbox with my diabetic tester, so there is a trip to Walgreens on the plate tomorrow (today was already anticipated to be blood sugar doom). Nothing of value is gone, I had cleaned it out last week, but quite the annoyance. They missed the garage door opener, thank FSM, the garage is loaded due to basement. Guess I have to give some thanks that it is largely an annoyance instead of a disaster.

Life is good, much to be happy about and stuff, I'll deal with the damn truck, and enjoy the day. No Packers, Badgers, or Huskers today, but wevs! A day with Sweetie is all good.

Must saute. Ta, all!

PS: I also give thanks that that Willard teh Windsock is celebrating Kolobs-giving at one of his homes as opposed to planning for a first term. 

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Top Of The Lower Level, Ma! Top Of The Lower Level!

Made it!

In a mere 15 hours, whilst neglecting to beat the living bejabbers out of, really, everyone in sight, we significantly redid our power harness. We had and solved issues, some creative wiring including a surprise disconnecting means circuit in a switchboard we was not anticipating, I had my issues, occasional anger at some points when I felt I was being bigfooted out of my project, (bigfooted hell, I had shoe treads on my forehead), and given time constraints, with everyone already stressed, I was not a ray of german sunshine. But everything got done and utility restored 13 minutes ahead of timetable, and although I wasn't about to got to IHOP with everyone because 

Self Portrait, 11am
and because IHOP, but also because I was trying to listen to the start of the Packers game and near as I could tell it was being broadcast in Japanese and I felt it imperative that I go teh fuck to bed.

But it's done, it's done, bosses are happy, I think I looked good, well, okay, just before review time (blech), I'm at work again watching sparkys do demo and genuinely intending not to do shit until it is time to go home for a well-earned 5 days off...

...trimming out the basement. And drinking. Well, not, actually, but yeah. Don't know, I'm considering it...

Coda: Well, one part of the project, which was somewhat feckin' ridiculously undersold to us (a monitoring system retrofit) and left something to be desired, like planning or workability or accurate estimates to perform installation or vendor reps who stayed awake (there will be phone calls that I'll miss, which makes me sadface, pppbbllfftt) got the plug pulled at about 75% completion, and we won't be doing this shutdown again for a couple years. Not necessarily part of my scope of project, but I got caught in the backwash, but it's past, and my direct supervisor was present and knows teh score...

Friday, November 16, 2012

It All Comes Down To This - Employment Edition

It's on.

Not the basement remodel, which has bogged down some, not in minutiae but in slow finishing work. Tile today.

No, paleo has had a large power maintenance / equipment end-of-life replacement and upgrade project on his plate for several months, with planning starting in March, but things seriously ramping up about a month ago, and Saturday night is the show. I work in an industry where 24/7/365 power uptime is the standard, and how we are judged and sold, and getting the permissions and paperwork to do a 12 hour shutdown, although it is completely necessary, justified, and planned, is like pulling teeth. Saturday night is that visit to the dentist. Once I start work, in about an hour and a half, it will be asses and elbows until sometime Sunday afternoon...

Biggest project I've ever run, and although it is not an audition, per se, success tomorrow, and in its 3 encores over the next 18 months, will go a long way towards the goal of buffing a seat with my but, while I'm still ambulatory.

Antacid, anyone?

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Sunday Surrealism 3 - Country Bears Jamboree

David Thorne *
Nacho Soup
Holly cannot cook. She is capable of the process of cooking, but Holly cannot cook in the same way that an octopus cannot ride a bike; it has enough arms to reach the pedals and handlebars but the result will rarely be a successful journey from A to B.I once looked over Holly's shoulder to discover her crumbling Alka-Seltzer tablets into a meal she was preparing because "they are salty and we ran out of salt."Saturday evening, Holly stated that she was making nachos for dinner so I was surprised to be presented with a bowl and spoon an hour later. "What's this? I asked."The nachos were a bit runny so I added a few cups of water. It's nacho soup," she replied."Is there even such a thing?" I asked. "And what are these bits in it?""They're the chips," Holly replied defensively as she sipped a spoon of Nachos and made a long "mmmmmm" noise. "I put it all in the blender so there shouldn't be any big bits.""I'm ringing for pizza," I said."Typical," replied Holly, "you never appreciate anything I do.""That's not true" I responded, "I appreciate everything you do but if I ordered a hamburger at McDonald's and they handed it to me in a cup with a straw saying 'Sorry, it was a bit runny so we threw it in the blender and added two cups of water, it's Big Mac soup', I would assume the restaurant was entirely staffed through some kind of special needs employment initiative. If they asked me, "Do you want fries with that?" I sure as fuck wouldn't reply, 'Yes, mix them in.'""It would probably be quite good," responded Holly, "but you would never know because you are too much of an asshole to taste it. Even if the guy at McDonalds spent an hour in the kitchen making it for you and burnt his thumb on a saucepan.""Fine," I relented, taking a scoop and raising it to my mouth, "I'll taste it." Sipping at the brown and yellow puree, I felt an intense burning sensation not unlike having a mouth full of red ants. I swallowed with effort as my eyes began to water and said, "It's a bit spicy.""Yes," said Holly, "We were out of Cumin so I used Curry instead. It's like an Indian version of Nacho soup."

*h/t to bbkf


Personally, I ain't'nt sure why he just doesn't press the call button.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Okay, Party Is Over, Time To Get To Work

Nice way to wake up!

Early voting results indicate he owes the traditional progressive coalition, so let's hold his damn feet to the stovetop, fuck the 'Grand Bargain' bullshit. He's not been terrible, surprisingly and pleasingly positive in many arenas, and I again have hope. But it's up to us to tell him what we expect, and grade him on that.

I longed for sweet, smooth fundie tears to adorn my breakfast. Pancakes?

I'm a cynic, and actually, thought this one would pass handily, as people are dumb. Must re-calibrate something...

2010 Teabagger surf-pony Chip 'Chip' Cravaack has been sent back to Aitkin, where he will end up selling the extra 'A' to buy matches for heat.

Yay Tammy Baldwin! I have a relation who knows Tammy pretty well and says she is very cool, and everything I've seen, she is, so GO GET 'EM TAMMY. And, Thompson suffering has it's own particular odeur of schadenfreude! 


90% + counted, and she has a 1% margin, not sure of the re-count trigger, half a percent? She was a teabagger (Marcus's ears perk up) before it was cool...

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Remodel Blogging Weeks 8, 9 and 10

We are at the end of the stage where progress appears small, and yet is quite time consuming - tape, mud, paint, and considering starting a religion devoted to turning the general contractor into a goat (a futile but satisfying religion.) Painting's done, man! Much of the color scheme was picked by Sweetie, and I love it! (my part of it was discouraging certain choices, say any shade of blue, or the argyll runner, and encouraging other choices, such as the stripper parallel bars still in discussion.)

Except for some touch-up work at the end, we are done with the GC, and even though our experience has been relatively tame, especially in comparison to the descents into 7 hells we've watched friends go through, good damn riddance. We now have tile [subcontractor], plumbing [subcontractor], flooring (dry-core and laminate), trim, electrical trim-out, doors, window treatments, closet shelving/rods, moving stuff downstairs, building the fireplace enclosure and tiling that (a cobble-type finish), and enough comms and electronics to keep me at a basic level of entertainment (not, actually, a small number - if an algorithm could be derived for the 'entertainment of paleo') [me, me, me, me, and me]. I'd call things half-way-ish.

Actually, I did call things half-way-ish. Sweetie briefly announced displeasure with the concept of math. Pppbbllfftt! 

Still, we are getting there, and a lot of things, materials, timetable, are now within my hands, allowing us much more control, a situation we am happier with! As we start our end up again, more changes should be visible and permanent, always good for a sense of accomplishment, and we're pretty happy now!