Wednesday, February 29, 2012

A little Rule 5 action

XXX Chicks in tight sweaters!!XXX

(Don't blame me; blame Captain Heinrichs).

RINO virus

I was going to fisk David Brooks’ latest sortie against non-establishment Republicans, but Mickey Kaus has already done the job, and done it well.

Love this line:
Brooks thinks he’s a “mainstream conservative”? If so, he is an “insular information loop” of one.

“Pardieu, but this man Brooks is a fellow after my own heart!”

Update: RINO politicians may occasionally cast a conservative vote, and are otherwise sometimes useful in supporting party solidarity, but they will always find a way to let you down - usually at the worst possible time, and frequently out of spitefulness against the conservative wing of their own party (or even for no known reason at all).

For all you complainers out there

I burrowed into the Blogger settings and found out how to eliminate word verification. Let me know if this fixes what was ailin' you.

I'm sure they're just looking for feedback

The Department of Homeland Security is paying a contractor to monitor the internet for criticism of...itself.
In testimony submitted to the House Subcommittee on Counterterrorism and Intelligence, Ginger McCall, director of EPIC’s Open Government Project, stated that “the agency is monitoring constantly, under very broad search terms, and is not limiting that monitoring to events or activities related to natural disasters, acts of terrorism, or manmade disasters….The DHS has no legal authority to engage in this monitoring.”
The main thing I'm steamed about is the fact that DHS is paying a contractor over $11 million to do this monitoring. I'd have been happy to do it for $5 million.

So, does this count as criticism? I know this does.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

The varieties of human imagination never cease to amaze

Shadow paintings.

Sadly, varieties of human stupidity are also much in evidence.

Advance Australia Fair

In the direction of a new national anthem, suggests Mark Steyn, in this enlightening and amusing article.

Sheepish confession: until fairly recent times, I had always assumed that “Waltzing Matilda” was the Australian national anthem. It’s certainly the most evocative Australian tune for non-Australians; anybody who hears it knows that it relates to Down Under, and to no place else. Of course, I can see how the lyrics might pose a problem. You probably wouldn’t want your national anthem to highlight a story about a hobo who steals a sheep (wouldn’t bother me; might bother some people).

Why wait?

Obama says that, in five years, when he isn’t president anymore, he’s going to buy a Chevy Volt.

If he’s tying his purchase to the end of his stay in the White House, he might want to start placing an order around November of this year. And here’s a tip, Barry: get one with the automatic sprinkler option.

The really scary thing is Obama’s assumption that he’ll win another term. If he does, then I think we’re pretty much finished. The amount of ideological idiocy, corporate cupidity, interest-group gangsterism and sheer ignorance required to successfully heave this guy back into the White House would indicate a country that has become completely unmoored from its founding principles, and one not likely to regain its appreciation of them until they are almost irretrievably lost, at which point the means for effecting their recovery approaches the revolutionary.

What do we do to ensure that the next generation isn’t crushed by our enormous deficit?

Meh. Don’t worry about it. Treasury Secretary Tim Geithner has a solid Plan B (in fact, this might even be his Plan A).

Stephen Hawking

Party animal.

Slovakia avoids roundhouse kick

"Slovaks Vote Overwhelmingly to Name Bridge After Chuck Norris".

Today's Chuck Norris fact: the number pi goes on forever because it's running from Chuck Norris.

Monday, February 27, 2012

So, what does this mean for Australia?

Prime Minister Julia Gillard fended off Kevin Rudd in a Labor Party leadership ballot.

Question for my Australian readers: is this outcome good, bad or indifferent?

Golfer Lee Westwood's (accidental) fancy shooting

Last week, Westwood put a golf ball in some guy's pants, and this week he drops one in a fan's sweater.

Now, if Kate Upton were to show up wearing a bikini top, what are the odds...?

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Wyoming: ahead of the curve

Wyoming is evaluating what it will do in the case of a complete federal government meltdown.

I don't believe Virginia has prepared for that kind of event, but a small group of us here in Fairfax County are ready to take care of business on a smaller scale, should the need arise. Ain't that right, boys?

"That's right, Cap'n Paco! You jes' give us the word."

Good choice!

Obama's re-election campaign has hired the director of Al Gore's Cli-Fi flick, An Inconvenient Truth, to make a movie about The One.

Frankly, I don't know why he didn't hire George Lucas. There could be an infinitely variable storyline, with lots of tweaking. Envision the drama of a line like this:

Saul Alinsky: "I'm your father, Barry".

Monday movie

El Cid takes on the hordes of Ben Yusuf.

Take the cowcatchers off, and I'd be pleased to own one

An interesting photo collection of old railroad track inspection cars. (H/T: Captain Heinrichs).

David Gergen is still a "goggle-eyed mellon head"*

Professor Jacobson catches Gergen maundering on television.

*This highly appropriate epithet was coined by journalist and author Andrew Ferguson especially for David Gergen (you can read all about it in Ferguson's Fools' Names, Fools' Faces).

Did the Costa Concordia run aground because the captain was, er, "distracted"?

Looks like Captain Schettino might have taken his hands off the wheel for a few moments.
For the past six weeks Domnica [Cemortan] has been at the centre of worldwide attempts to uncover precisely what happened on the night that up to 32 people lost their lives off the Italian coastline. Rumours about the nature of her relationship with the flamboyant captain have led to her being called a siren, a woman of loose morals, and everything in between.

Through it all she has repeatedly denied any romance between her and the married captain. Even after her luggage and bikinis were discovered in the captain’s submerged cabin, she insisted it was ‘all lies’.
W-e-l-l, not all lies. She changed her tune a bit, later:
Domnica admits that not only had she been alone with Schettino in his cabin earlier during the evening of the tragedy, but that they had shared a passionate kiss, which she suspects was a prelude to them becoming lovers.
As things turned out, a slight case of nautical disaster intervened, so the "prelude", apparently, was all there was to it. Schettino, by the way, is currently under house arrest, and is looking at possibly 15 years on multiple manslaughter charges.

Sunday funnies

What's in a name? Sometimes, a lot less than you might think. More from Mitchell and Web.

The Obamawagon (a/k/a Chevy Volt) has been known to catch fire. Steve Burri has an idea about how to fix that problem.

Update: An honest Chevy Volt commercial (which I strongly suspect was not authorized by GM). H/T: Protein Wisdom.

Saturday, February 25, 2012

To serve and protect

Hats off to the Kitchener, Ontario police for protecting their citizens from a man whose daughter...Wait a minute...What the...Whose daughter drew a picture of her dad holding a gun?!?

When he's right, he is so right

Charles Krauthammer on The Apologist-in-Chief.

Friday, February 24, 2012

Assortment (All-Obama edition)

Jim Treacher continues to marvel at the workings of Obama’s giant brain.

From the Department of Not Seeing the Trees for the Forest: “American Story has Never been About Individuals”.

Moonbats believe in gettin' ahold of ‘em young.

Little Shohan , Jr.: larval-stage Republican. “A father has been arrested for smashing his son in the face with a mug for not paying attention to the President’s State of the Union speech last month.”

Fanatical right-wing Tea Partista Jake Tapper of ABC News challenges Obama mouthpiece Jay Carney on the administration’s hostility to aggressive journalism.

How about a big dollop of that there smart diplomacy?

Obama names one of the architects of the mortgage crisis as co-chair of his re-election campaign (the other co-chair is a chihuahua-faced actress).

Obama apparently believes that higher gas prices are an act of God (for which we should be grateful, incidentally).

Ok, ok. I want to be fair. Not all of Obama’s comments on energy are unadulterated lies. Some of his statements are half-truths.

I want to believe!

Obama's gas pains

Fishersville Mike has an appropriate chant.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Happy Feet Friday

Betty Hutton asks, “Do you know about swinging’?”

Comrade Obama's five year plan

"An additional half decade of me!"

An expert speaks out on Rick Santorum and Satan

Great find by Bob Belvedere.

Neat tweets

Steven Hayward has a selection of hilarious tweets from what purports to be a Goldman Sachs gossip site (here's the completely unexpurgated original).

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

The up and comers

Jay Nordlinger at National Review provides a very useful introduction to New Mexico Governor Susana Martinez, an unabashed conservative and possible future star of the Republican Party. It is people like Martinez, Marco Rubio, Allen West, and Paul Ryan who just about convince me that all is not yet lost

Never thought of keeping my guns in there

Don Surber relates a harrowing, yet strangely hilarious, encounter between a 90-year-old homeowner and a burglar.

Also from Don comes an important scientific observation: for solar power to work, you have to have, you know, sunshine.

Well, at least now Kevin doesn’t have to live in his car

Kevin Rudd has resigned as Australia’s Foreign Minister. Tim Blair has the details.

Also, Prime Minister Julia Gillard will be calling for a leadership ballot.

[Dons tweed jacket with intellectual-looking elbow patches, balances pince nez carefully on nose, and lights meerschaum pipe. Inadvertently drops lit match in coat pocket, wherein rests a nearly full box of its unignited fellows.]

My American readers are no doubt befuddled by this latest turn in the course of Australian politics. “Precisely”, you ask, “what is a leadership ballot?” Well...*puff, puff*…I will be more than happy to draw on my, er, extensive knowledge of Australian politics and history to bring you the enlightenment you desire.

You see, in the early 20th century, Australia, very much like our Old West, was a wild and woolly country (and, no, the latter is not a reference to the vast flocks of sheep that were, and still are, raised there; although the place certainly is, in that sense, “woolly”. This is a side issue, however, which need not detain us).

Now, where was I?...*puff, puff*…Oh, yes. Australia was a rough and tumble country where disputes were frequently settled with extreme prejudice - at the point of a gun, that is to say. [Suddenly, a loud sizzling noise, followed by flames and a copious amount of smoke billowing from the coat pocket.] Why, viewing the period in my mind’s eye, I can almost smell the cordite – which, interestingly, smells not unlike burning tweed…burning tweed…Gad! There will be a brief recess. Feel free to talk among yourselves. [Rushes to bathroom, from which issues the sound of running water, and the plaintive cry, “Ruined!” Returns in shirtsleeves.]

In any event, so prevalent was the impulse to violence that it spilled over into politics – aided and abetted, unfortunately, by the Crown’s chief legal counselor in Australia, whose dyslexia caused him, in interpreting the constitutional law, to confuse the words “bullets” and “ballots”. So, for the first several years, prime ministers were selected by means of duels with pistols, the victor of the shooting match assuming office. One unscrupulous politician, named Ned Kelly, went to the extreme of wearing iron plates under his clothes to ensure his success; however, his subterfuge was discovered when a well-wisher slapped him on the back and a loud clang! was heard by the crowd, which became incensed at this display of poor sportsmanship and hanged Kelly from a stout native tree (a specimen of oak known as a “billabong”).

Ultimately, the aforementioned legal counselor’s affliction was found out. The people were mortified to learn that their leaders were supposed to be chosen via ballots, not bullets, but such was – and is - the playful spirit of Australians that they were reluctant to completely expunge the idea of some form of combat, even if non-lethal, from their political deliberations, so, in making intraparty leadership choices, a tamer sort of duel was implemented and is followed to this day.

Therefore, we will shortly see Julia Gillard and her rival, Kevin Rudd, batting each other with the paddle ends of two stuffed platypuses, until one candidate knocks the other off his, or her, feet. Although, in order to comply with the law, de jure, this exercise is referred to as a “leadership ballot”, it is popularly known as a “leadership buffet”.

Anything else you’d like to know about Australian politics, feel free to ask - a little later, perhaps. Right now, I’m off to the Burlington Coat Factory.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Caption time!

Hillary Clinton either didn't have a white blouse or fell into a vat of split pea soup before this photo of G20 mucky-mucks was taken. Jim Treacher is inviting captions; so am I.

Dentist: "Hmmmm...m'yes. That one's definitely going to have to come out."

"What will the Fed look like in 2025?"

Professor John Cochrane asks an intriguing question, in this thoughtful post on the prospects for Federal Reserve independence.

Government Motors: another fake success story

There’s been lot of hoopla in the MSM recently about GM’s “turnaround”. Well, it ain’t all that hard to be profitable when the government enables you to stick it to creditors and take advantage of special tax breaks.
The sweet tax deal GM receives was set up by the Obama Administration as the company was granted a multi-billion dollar tax credit for loss carry-overs when they exited their bankruptcy proceeding. Normally, the company would not have received the tax credit but the bankruptcy process was anything but normal. Creditors were put in the back of the line to protect UAW interests and tax code was changed so that GM could profit for years without paying its fair share in taxes. President Obama now campaigns on the perceived success at GM and any help he can give to the company will result in additional votes come November. As taxpayers lose out, GM profits and shares the wealth with the politically favored UAW.
An America bilked to the last!

H/T: Moonbattery

Update: Of all the unmitigated imbecilities enshrined in Obama’s economic program, the excise tax on manufacturers of medical devices has to be one of the most bone-headed.

Admiral Nelson, he ain’t

Meet Ray Mabus, Secretary of the Navy and complete political hack.

Kudos to Kevin Jackson

Not all blacks are happy with life on the Democrat plantation, as Smitty points out in this post (also, check out Kevin Jackson’s blog).

Mae R. Driscoll, RIP

The mother of renowned blogger Ed Driscoll passed away this weekend. Read Ed’s touching tribute to her here.

Read it and weep

Market analyst, Bob Janjuah, smells epic fail. A sample (including the best one-sentence summary of our financial crisis that I've seen; emphasis mine):
The crisis was caused by central bankers mispricing the cost of capital, which forced a misallocation of capital, driven by debt/leverage, which was ultimately exposed as a hideous asset bubble which then collapsed, destroying the lives and livelihoods of tens of millions of relatively innocent people. Well now, if you listen to the latest from Bernanke and Draghi, it seems that the only solution they can offer up is to yet again misprice the cost of capital, in the hope that, yet again, through increased leverage/debt, we are yet again "greedy" enough to misallocate capital, which in turn will lead to yet another round of asset bubbles. Such asset bubbles are meant to delude us into believing that we are now "richer". When – as they do by definition – these bubbles burst, those who have been suckered in will realise that their "wealth" is instead an illusion, which in turn will be replaced by default risk.

Monday, February 20, 2012

"What we have heah... a failure to excommunicate."

First in war, first in peace, first in the hearts of his countrymen

Wednesday is George Washington's birthday, and David Boaz has written a short, but splendid, tribute. I particularly like this bit:
Give the last word to Washington’s great adversary, King George III. The king asked his American painter, Benjamin West, what Washington would do after winning independence. West replied, “They say he will return to his farm.”

“If he does that,” the incredulous monarch said, “he will be the greatest man in the world.”

Soon, I'll be packing

Sweet! I went out to NRA's national headquarters here in Fairfax this morning (only a few miles from my house; one of the few upsides to living so near to D.C.). I had planned - finally! - on firing my Uberti Russian .44 top-break. Unfortunately, since today is a holiday, the place was extremely crowded, so I didn't get to do any shooting. I did take the test administered to all first-time range users, and I got my range card. Plus, I noticed that there's a Virginia concealed-carry class week after next, so I signed up for that. Down the road a piece, I plan on getting my Utah concealed-carry permit, which is good in something like 33 states.

On a gun-related note, I'd be grateful for any information concerning where I might find a holster for the Uberti New Model Russian (shown here). I know a couple of places that make holsters for the regular Schofield top-breaks, but haven't found anyplace that specifically manufactures a holster for the Russian (the Russian is a modified Schofield, with a somewhat different grip, and a trigger-guard spur which, although interesting, seems pretty useless, and makes finding a suitable holster difficult; here is the page at Uberti that shows the differences in design between the regular Schofields and the Russian).

Sunday, February 19, 2012


The Occupy camp at McPherson Square in Washington is now just a ghost town. The authorities have permitted a few tents to remain, as a kind of "memorial", but nobody is allowed to sleep in them at night, and the other day I noticed just a handful of occupods milling around.

So, what did they want? What were their demands? Perhaps we can decipher the runes they left behind...

Well, there you have it, the grand platform for societal upheaval: D.C. statehood, a Kucinich presidency, and noise pollution. I have to say, though, that they were right about one thing, even if they probably don't really know why:

Monday movie

Glenn Ford is mad, and he’s not taking any crap off the local crime boss (from The Big Heat).

Monday movie bonus! I couldn’t find any separate scenes on YouTube from Larceny, Inc. - one of my favorite comedies from the 1940s - but here’s the original film trailer.

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Free (?) at last

Andrew Klavan commends a documentary featuring black Tea Party activist, Rev. C.L. Bryant, and his fight against the Democrat “plantation” that has enslaved blacks anew in a system of government dependency. Check it out here.

Sunday funnies

The sad story of a very unintimidating robber.

Sometimes, honesty is not the best policy.

Almost everybody complains about his or her job from time to time. But remember: it could always be worse.

“It wasn’t me, it was, er, me.”

In order to get my presidential campaign back on track, campaign consultant, Captain Heinrichs, has put together a video concerning one of the major planks in my platform (language warning; hey, I tell it like it is).

Don't expect a birthday card this year, junior

71-year-old man tries to evict his 98-year-old mother from her home.

Friday, February 17, 2012

The blogging classes

Stacy McCain discusses the “two-tiered blogging hierarchy” and the discontents of the lumpenblogatariat. As a member of the blogging “lowarchy”, I’m about as “lumpen” as you can get; however, as someone who admits, freely, to being a mere dilettante, I am perfectly content. I enjoy presiding over my little salon, with its dozen or so regular members. Less influential, but much cozier that way, and far better suited to a lazy fellow like me.


Secretary of the Treasury, Little Timmy Geithner, inadvertently conjures up an appropriate Democrat bumper sticker.

President Obama displays his usual cognitive dissonance (H/T: Captain Heinrichs).

Tough love for immigrants (H/T: likewise).

Money can’t buy love – or low unemployment either, apparently.

Is Romney Nixon 2.0?

Flushing Obama.

Jeff Goldstein has some (typically) incisive observations about Rick Santorum.

Steve at the Pub gets educated.

Fifth columnists now volunteering for action in the front lines.

Randy G. predicts that “eat-your-peas” government may well become a reality.

The “progressive” mentality: when the facts interfere with the narrative, the facts must go.

Tim T commits some more (very clever) poetry (Tim: your assignment, if you should choose to accept it, is to convert a few stanzas of Byron’s Darkness into a commentary on modern politics, Australian or American).

Andrew Klavan ponders the decline of the movie industry.

Those crony capitalists keep breaking wind.

The Boycott, Sanctions and Divestment movement is a cult, says…pro-Palestinian activist, Norman Finkelstein (H/T: Jill).

Foreign corrupt practices can’t hold a candle to the domestic variety.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Happy Feet Friday

Jack Teagarden and friends in a swingin’ version of “Dark Eyes”.

From the Department of Why Does this Never Happen to Me?

Workers in France discover stash of gold coins in ceiling.

Way to go, Janet!

Janet Napolitano’s Department of Homeland Security has thwarted efforts by hairdryer smugglers to move their shoddy wares into the U.S.
"U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) seized thousands of hair dryers recently that were determined to constitute a “substantial product hazard” under U.S. law, for failing to have adequate immersion protection," DHS announced. "The potentially dangerous hair dryers were identified through a nationwide targeting operation by the CBP Import Safety Commercial Targeting and Analysis Center (CTAC)."
I don’t know about you, but I’m sure I’ll sleep better tonight, armed with the assurance that I’m not using some appliance with inadequate immersion protection. Of course, there’s still a lot of work ahead for Napolitano. Never mind about terrorism and illegal immigrants; will she be able to save us from the scourges of unpasteurized cheese and boa constrictors?

(H/T: Drudge)

The welfare state: economically unsustainable and immoral

Monty at Ace of Spades – whose “Doom” columns are a must-read – today writes an essay on the welfare state. It’s a great piece, and nicely captures my own feelings about Big Government. Here’s a sample:
I've often said that I don't hate the welfare state on fiscal grounds alone. I hate the welfare state because it is morally wrong. I'd hate it even if were indefinitely sustainable. I'd hate it even if it didn't cost me a dime. The modern welfare state, as an expression of the great "progressive" drive towards a secular Utopia, is a poison to the body politic. Whatever good its proponents claim for it in the short run, in the long run it will destroy us if we do not purge it from our society. (I am not speaking here of charity, which is an action taken by the individual for motives of their own; I am speaking of money taken from the individual by the State and redistributed to other individuals deemed by the State to be more worthy of it.)
Read the whole thing.

Update - Kinda, sorta related: Paul Rahe on Obama’s challenge to the Catholic Church (which is really a challenge to anyone, or any group, that presumes to defy Obama’s all-powerful state):
In 2008, when he first ran for the Presidency, Barack Obama posed as a moderate most of the time. This time, he is openly running as a radical. His aim is to win a mandate for the fundamental transformation of the United States that he promised in passing on the eve of his election four years ago and that he promised again when he called his administration The New Foundation. In the process, he intends to reshape the Democratic coalition – to bring the old hypocrisy to an end, to eliminate those who stand in the way of the final consolidation of the administrative entitlements state, to drive out the faithful Catholics once and for all, to jettison the white working class, and to build a new American regime on a coalition of highly educated upper-middle class whites, feminists, African-Americans, Hispanics, illegal immigrants, and those belonging to the public-sector unions. To Americans outside this coalition, he intends to show no mercy [emphasis mine – Paco].
Land of the free and home of the brave? We will know before the year is out.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Let’s have a big hand for The Man!

A friend at work, who shares my disgust at the galloping narcissism of our agency head, was recently inspired to send me this piece written by Solzhenitsyn. I was familiar with the general outline of the story, but was unaware of its ending (unfortunately, my friend did not include the specifics of the citation).
At the conclusion of the conference, a tribute to Comrade Stalin was called for. Of course, everyone stood up (just as everyone had leaped to his feet during the conference at every mention of his name). ... For three minutes, four minutes, five minutes, the stormy applause, rising to an ovation, continued. But palms were getting sore and raised arms were already aching. And the older people were panting from exhaustion. It was becoming insufferably silly even to those who really adored Stalin.

However, who would dare to be the first to stop? … After all, NKVD men were standing in the hall applauding and watching to see who would quit first! And in the obscure, small hall, unknown to the leader, the applause went on – six, seven, eight minutes! They were done for! Their goose was cooked! They couldn’t stop now till they collapsed with heart attacks! At the rear of the hall, which was crowded, they could of course cheat a bit, clap less frequently, less vigorously, not so eagerly – but up there with the presidium where everyone could see them?

The director of the local paper factory, an independent and strong-minded man, stood with the presidium. Aware of all the falsity and all the impossibility of the situation, he still kept on applauding! Nine minutes! Ten! In anguish he watched the secretary of the District Party Committee, but the latter dared not stop. Insanity! To the last man! With make-believe enthusiasm on their faces, looking at each other with faint hope, the district leaders were just going to go on and on applauding till they fell where they stood, till they were carried out of the hall on stretchers! And even then those who were left would not falter…

Then, after eleven minutes, the director of the paper factory assumed a businesslike expression and sat down in his seat. And, oh, a miracle took place! Where had the universal, uninhibited, indescribable enthusiasm gone? To a man, everyone else stopped dead and sat down. They had been saved!

The squirrel had been smart enough to jump off his revolving wheel. That, however, was how they discovered who the independent people were. And that was how they went about eliminating them. That same night the factory director was arrested. They easily pasted ten years on him on the pretext of something quite different. But after he had signed Form 206, the final document of the interrogation, his interrogator reminded him:

“Don’t ever be the first to stop applauding.”
The tragedy in our own society is not that people suck up to authority figures because they have to, but, increasingly, because they want to (vide Barack Obama and his oxpeckers in the legacy media – Chris Matthews, Martin Bashir, Cenk Uygar, et al, ad nauseum).

Truth in advertising

The Heart Attack Grill lives up to its name.

Yo! Gunny says register to vote

No excuses!

Obama unleashes his Veraciraptors

Haw! Truth Team comics.

There is almost nothing that government planning will not make worse

Michael Barone discusses (far more dispassionately that I have been known to do) the failings of the Washington Metro.

The commuting problem in Washington would be greatly ameliorated if the federal government were to adopt my long-standing initiative of decentralizing the bureaucracy – e.g., relocating the Department of Agriculture to Omaha (and the EPA to, heh, Camden, New Jersey).

Eat-your-peas government

Or chicken nuggets, as the case may be.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

More on Obama's truth pods

Kinda Orwellian.

Recommended action to be taken in any encounter with an Obama truth pod.

You shouldn't be able to carry guns, but it's ok for the police

Because they always know what they're doing (H/T: Daily Caller).

Those “Great Moments in TSA airport screening” are now snowballing

The latest episode involves a woman with a “cute figure” who was sent through the naked scanner three times.

The land of the free?

Perhaps not much longer. Mark Steyn points out the real, insidious purpose of Obama Care – it is an assault upon individual freedom that “ought to have been stark staring obvious”.
Given the willingness of courts to torture the language of the Constitution to endorse whatever novelties tickle their fancy, is it so hard to picture five judges concluding that the Commerce Clause now extends to “tooth-level surveillance”? Michael’s right. Even in as overly legalistic a society as America has become, what sort of freeborn citizen bets his liberties on Anthony Kennedy?
Correct in every detail. Even more worrisome than the transformational socialism of Obama Care is the damage Obama could do to our country through his power over judicial nominations in a second term, up to and including the Supreme Court. This danger ought to be sounding alarm bells everywhere. And people concerned about the preservation of their traditional rights need to start thinking about what happens when a future court begins a wholesale reinterpretation of the Constitution that seeks to preserve the form of the vessel while emptying it of any significance. My own view is that the Supreme Court is not the legal, secular equivalent of the College of Cardinals, let alone a kind of collective pontiff. When our rights become threatened by an attempt to cloak liberal dogma in the language of the law, and our liberty rests upon the decision of a single, tie-breaking (and often capricious) Supreme Court justice, we would do well to recall the warning of Thomas Jefferson, in a letter he wrote late in life to a Virginia judge:
For intending to establish three departments, co-ordinate and independent, that they might check and balance one another, it has given, according to this opinion, to one of them alone, the right to prescribe rules for the government of the others, and to that one too, which is unelected by, and independent of the nation…The constitution, on this hypothesis, is a mere thing of wax in the hands of the judiciary, which they may twist and shape into any form they please. It should be remembered, as an axiom of eternal truth in politics, that whatever power in any government is independent, is absolute also; in theory only, at first, while the spirit of the people is up, but in practice, as fast as that relaxes.
In short, it is the people – not the Supreme Court, and certainly not the president – who are the ultimate guardians of our constitutional rights.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Ahhh! Ain't love grand? Looks like it's time for another romantic Chick-Fil-A dinner for Mrs. Paco and me.

Monday, February 13, 2012

The Obama campaign is set to launch “truth” teams

Which will have the same relationship to truth as a fire department has to fire.
The Obama campaign is today beginning a new effort to enlist and educate at least 2 million supporters for a "grassroots communications team" they're calling the Truth Team.

"The goal is to ensure that when Republicans attack President Obama's record, grassroots supporters can take ownership of the campaign and share the facts with the undecided voters in their lives," the campaign said in a statement.
My advice to you undecided voters? Screen your calls, close your shades, and pretend you’re not home until November. Encounters with pod people always end badly.

And, just for starters, the truth doesn’t look like this.

Obama’s zombie budget

The Big-Spender-in-Chief is, yet again, revving up the engine for his pedal-to-the-metal race to economic catastrophe. Paul Ryan deftly shoots out the tires in this brief summary.

David Brock’s Praetorian Guard

Stacy McCain throws a light on David Brock’s paranoia, and the hypocritical “hustle” that is Media Matters (read the first and second installments of an investigative report on this liberal outfit, by Tucker Carlson and Vince Coglianese, at The Daily Caller).

Also from The Other McCain, Smitty weighs in on the execrable Van Jones (remember, all you undecideds out there, this was a guy who Obama saw fit to offer an actual, high-level gummint job).

Sunday, February 12, 2012

What, a wedding cake post at Paco Enterprises?

Relax. We're talking exploding wedding cakes.

Two from Babalú

First, a video of the inspiring Daniel Hannan, speaking at this year's CPAC.

Second, Senator (and someday President, may it please God) Marco Rubio, also speaking at CPAC.

Monday movie

Gary Cooper as Sgt. York (“You never hear the one that's hit you”).

Sunday funnies

Here's a unique gift idea for Valentine's Day.

Vermont prison inmates get a bit of their own back.

Nature's airbags (well, there might have been a slight assist from surgeons).

Ominous new evidence of climate change.

Has the season started already?

Friday, February 10, 2012

Sure, if she sleeps with it and there's no penicillin available

Hot Air Headlines asks the question, "Can Roseanne Barr help the Green Party break out?"

And a new expression is born

As strong and healthy as a dead Bank of America customer.
Arthur Livingston, of Prosperity, S.C., may feel prosperous and alive, but his credit report says, "File not scored because subject is deceased."

That's because Livingston's bank, Bank of America, has been reporting him as deceased to the three major credit agencies since May 2009, he said.

Bank of America has still not resolved the issue, even after media attention, causing headaches for Livingston, 39, and his family in South Carolina.
Dude, try emailing this guy. He's all about helping the little people.

A titan of industry saves the day

The titan of industry was settled comfortably in the backseat of his 1939 Packard touring sedan, browsing through the pages of the Wall Street Journal, as the rain drummed on the roof of the car. His chauffeur, Otto, kept his steely blue eyes on the street, as he picked his way carefully through the late afternoon Manhattan traffic, carrying his master back to their hotel. J. Packington Paco III rarely had occasion to come to New York, save for the routine January trip to preside at the annual shareholders’ meetings of his various corporations, which were all held on the same day. That day had arrived, once again, and, as usual, the meetings had been love-fests, an opportunity for J.P. to bask in the warmly-expressed gratitude of his minority stockholders, whose investments had thrived under the chairman’s far-seeing perspicacity and unparalleled shrewdness (not to mention his adeptness at staying never less than one giant step ahead of the Securities and Exchange Commission; the Treasury Department had, of course, abandoned all hope years ago).

As Otto brought the car to a stop at a red light, a strange sound caught J.P.’s attention. It was a kind of ragged, roaring noise, such as a large crowd of disappointed fans might make at the close of an important soccer game in some violent Central American country, when the home team had lost a close one, due, in the view of the locals, to the bad call of an incompetent referee. Looking up from his newspaper, J.P. saw, directly out his window, a spectacle of shocking savagery.

A tall man, of advanced middle age, dressed in a business suit that had become saturated from the rain, was running down an alley, heading for the street on which J.P.’s automobile idled at the traffic light. Behind him, in hot pursuit, was a crowd that must have numbered two or three score of similarly attired men – with a sprinkling of women - the ones in the front ranks hurling vegetables, rocks and the odd garbage-can lid at the unfortunate fellow whose lead was rapidly diminishing; he held a briefcase over his head to protect himself from the missiles. As the man drew closer to the street, J.P. noticed a look of terror etched on his face; the faces of his pursuers, on the other hand, were twisted in rage. It was such a scene, J.P. speculated idly, as would probably have occurred when the first Jesuit missionary went among the Mohawks – or (and this turned out to be a more prescient and apt fancy) when a gambler in an Old West saloon inadvertently laid down a hand consisting of five aces.

The man finally emerged from the alley, looked desperately up and down the street, and then noticed J.P.’s car. He ran to the Packard and began beating on the passenger window, pleading for help. At this assault upon the classic automobile which Otto considered to be his exclusive responsibility, the chauffeur glared at the fugitive and reached a gloved hand into his tunic in order to extract a Luger pistol. J.P., noticing the action, patted Otto on the shoulder.

“It’s all right, my boy. I believe the gentleman is simply in need of a lift. Don’t trouble yourself; I’ll let him in through my door.”

“Ja wohl, mein Herr!”

J.P. opened his door, and the man jumped in, barely giving him time to slide the other end of the seat. The light changed to green, and an opening in traffic enabled Otto to pilot the car away from the howling mob.

The man leaned back and sighed in relief. “Thank you, sir. You have undoubtedly saved my life.”

“What on earth possessed those people to chase you?”

The man gave J.P. a nervous glance. “Well…you see…my name’s Jon Corzine. I just came from a meeting with some of my investors. You’ve read, of course, about the unfortunate collapse of my firm, MF Global. And, due to, er, some strange fluke in our record-keeping, hundreds of millions of dollars of customer funds have simply gone pfffft! As you can see, a lot of people aren’t exactly taking it too well.” Corzine withdrew a handkerchief from an inside pocket of his jacket to mop his brow. As he did so, a wad of currency fell on the seat. J.P. arched an eyebrow and picked up the money.

“Yours, I believe?”

“What? Oh, heh, yes, thank you. I’ll just put that away.” Corzine opened his briefcase quickly and tossed the bundle of bills inside – not, however, before J.P. was able to espy an enormous stash of currency and securities within, plus what appeared to be a passport.

“So,” Corzine continued, “I was in my office today – you know, just sort of, um, tidying up – and all these customers showed up, unexpectedly. I explained to them that no one was more regretful than I that their money had gone, uh…well…”

‘Pfffft!’, I believe, is the sibilant you used to describe this mysterious and catastrophic phenomenon.”

“Exactly! Pfffft! But you know how it is when money’s involved; people let their avariciousness interfere with their logic. The crowd became surly, so I fled. Before long, they were chasing me down the street. That’s when you came along. Again, many thanks. By the way, you look very familiar. Do I know you?”

“I am J. Packington Paco III.”

“Ah, yes, of course!” A flicker of hope briefly animated Corzine’s face. Might he not try to tap into this well-known magnate’s substantial boodle in an effort to salvage his dying company? The light of hope quickly faded, however, as Corzine recalled an incident from a couple of years ago, when one of his agents had attempted to gain entry to Paco Tower dressed as a telephone repair man, in order to make a sales pitch to the great financier. He was not entirely clear on all the details, but he had a general recollection of the agent’s imposture having been discovered by some kind of hulking manservant, leading to a traumatic confrontation that had so shaken the agent that he got out of the investment banking business altogether (he had, in fact, changed his name, grown a beard, and taken up ostrich ranching in Arizona).

“Perhaps,” J.P. suggested, “you would care to stop at my suite at the Waldorf and dry out a bit?”

“That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

The rain had stopped by the time Otto drew up in front of the Waldorf. He moved briskly to open J.P’s door, and scowled as he saw the pool of water that their hitchhiker had left in the backseat. “Schweinehund!” he muttered, under his breath.

While Otto parked the car in a nearby garage, J.P. escorted Corzine to his suite. Upon entering, the two men were immediately greeted by Spurgeon, J.P.’s formidable gentleman’s personal gentleman.

“Jon, this is my man, Spurgeon. Spurgeon, Jon Corzine.”

Now, only an extremely keen observer of butlerine physiognomy – and J.P. was certainly one such - would have noticed the sudden dilation of nostrils and the flash of eyes, as Spurgeon gave Corzine an almost imperceptible nod. His curiosity piqued, J.P. invited Corzine to hang his sodden jacket in the bathroom, while he took Spurgeon aside.

“Spurgeon,” he whispered, “I take it that you are struggling with a strong revulsion over this fellow’s presence.”

“Forgive me, Sir, for that unseemly display of emotion, but might I inquire, is that the Jon Corzine, of the lately defunct investment house of MF Global?”

“The very same.”

“Well, Mr. Paco, do you recall my cousin Matilda? The one who married the sheep rancher in Australia?”

“Why, yes, of course. She’s the one who sends us a box of those marvelous home-baked cookies every Christmas. Which, to digress for a moment, we didn’t receive last year for some reason.”

“No, Mr. Paco, we did not. Matilda placed nearly half of her life savings with MF Global, and her money was apparently among the customer funds that the firm criminally comingled with its own investments. Her savings are now lost, and her spirits have been so low that she simply couldn’t manage any baking. I fear that she may never again find herself up to the task.”

“Gad! Why, this is terrible! I spend an inordinate amount of time, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, thinking of nothing but those sublime cookies. She was quite destroyed by the unpleasant discovery of her missing investments, then, was she?”

“She took it very much to heart, Sir. So infuriated was she, in fact, that in a recent telephone conversation she unburdened her feelings to the extent of placing an extraordinarily opprobrious connotation on the ‘MF’ in MF Global.”


“In her defense, I must emphasize that she has lived for many years in a rural setting among a very rough lot, which environment has tended to lend a certain coarseness to her language.”

“No explanation necessary, my dear fellow. Well, this is a bad business, to be sure. How much did she lose?”

“At the current rate of exchange, I should say approximately fifty thousand dollars.”

“Fifty thousand, eh?” J.P. was looking off into the middle distance and suddenly noticed that he was eyeing Corzine’s briefcase. One of his irrepressible guffaws bubbled to the surface.

“Bwaha! Spurgeon, I have a plan. Attend closely.” J.P. had a hurried, and quiet, conversation with Spurgeon, and then moved hastily away as Corzine reentered the living room.

“There you are,” J.P. said, adopting a convivial tone. “Perhaps I can offer you some refreshment? I’ve some good brandy on hand.”

Corzine, still somewhat resembling a Labrador retriever that had had a busy day fetching dead ducks from a pond on the opening day of hunting season, acquiesced in the offer gladly.

Spurgeon filled Corzine’s snifter, and made sure to keep it filled for the next half hour, while J.P. sipped on a glass of soda water. Gradually, the alcohol began to dull the edge of Corzine’s agitation over his earlier narrow escape, and he drifted into a mood of extreme contentment. As an imbecilic smile spread across the flushed face, J.P. smacked a hand against his own forehead.

“Heavens, Spurgeon!” , he roared, “What time is it?”

Spurgeon withdrew an antique silver watch from the pocket of his waistcoat and popped the cover. “It is a quarter past four, Sir.”

“Death and damnation! I’ll never make it to the bank on time, now.”

Corzine, roused by his host’s voluble announcement, stirred drowsily in his chair.

“Wha…whazzamatter, old top?”

“I have a couple of cd’s that matured today and I had intended to cash them in. I’m leaving town tonight and driving back home. Blast! Now I’ll have to remain another day. You know, I’d gladly sign the things over at a discount to someone if I could be spared the inconvenience of staying another night in New York just to make a trip to the bank tomorrow.”

Corzine, filled with brandified bonhomie – and an idea for garnering a fast buck – waved his hand in a magnanimous gesture. “I’ll pay you for your cd’s. Er, how much is the value?”

“The value – the face value - is fifty-five thousand dollars.”

“Tell you what - *hic* - I’ll take ‘em off your hands for, ohhhh, say, fifty thousand dollars in cash.”

J.P.’s face beamed like that of a particularly large cherub, and he clasped his hands in delight. “Oh, would you, really?”

“Noblesse -*belch* - oblige.”

J.P. hastily drew up an agreement which served to transfer ownership of the cd’s to Corzine. Corzine, swaying dangerously in front of his briefcase, opened it just wide enough to slip a hand in and pull out a few bundles of bills. After miscounting the stack of money several times, with the assistance of J.P. he finally arrived at the agreed-upon amount and handed it over.

“How fortunate that we should have run into each other today,” J.P. said. “Now, you just take this transfer document down to the Manhattan office of the Environmental Bank of Guatemala first thing tomorrow, and you’re all set. Can I have my chauffeur drop you at home?”

“No, no. Thasawright. I’ll catch a cab. Toodle-oo, old chap!” Corzine caromed off a table and a low-hanging chandelier and then disappeared from sight. As J.P. closed the door, Spurgeon approached his chief, a puzzled expression on his map.

“I beg your pardon, Sir, but it wasn’t my intention for you to foot the bill for cousin Matilda’s loss.”

J.P. patted Spurgeon on the shoulder. “You know I would do anything to help you or that excellent baker of cookies out of a jam, but, as fate would have it, it hasn’t cost me a cent.”

“But, Mr. Paco, you exchanged certificates of deposit worth fifty-five thousand dollars for a substantially lesser amount of cash.”

J.P. smiled cyptically as he took a cigar from the box on the coffee table. “I said they were ‘cd’s’, Spurgeon; I didn’t say anything about certificates of deposit.”

* * * * * * * *

Late the following morning, a completely befuddled Jon Corzine stood in the tiny office of a Mr. Antonio Villalobos, gerente of the New York branch of the Environmental Bank of Guatemala.

“Bu..but…I don’t understand. Aren’t these cd’s?”

“Sí, señor. They are carbon debits.”

“Carbon debits? What the hell are they?”

“They are the opposite of carbon credits.”

“But aren’t they worth fifty-five thousand dollars?”

“That is the face value, señor, not the market value. Since the carbon debit is a brand new investment instrument, the trading volume is very thin.”

“How thin,” Corzine asked, with mounting anxiety.

“Well, the parent company of the Environmental Bank of Guatemala, Paco Financial Services, is the only issuer and the only market maker in this particular type of security. Right now, our bid price is ten cents per one thousand dollars of par value. So, your investment is worth five dollars and fifty cents. Less a transaction fee of five dollars, that would mean fifty cents. Would you like that in quarters, señor, or dimes?”

Another great moment in TSA screening

I've written, from time to time, about various absurd excesses of TSA airport screening (and about its thievery, too). This is the first time, however, I've come across an incident affecting somebody I know (through blogging).

Friend and commenter Deborah Leigh was trying to get to Philadelphia for a funeral, when she got into trouble at the airport for...well, let Richard McEnroe tell the story.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Happy Feet Friday

Sammy Price is one of my all-time favorite boogie-woogie pianists. Here’s his recording of “133 St. Boogie”.

Sammy Price bonus! With Albennie Jones performing “Papa Tree Top Blues.”

Feel good story of the day

Rahm Emanuel has to write a check for almost $400,000 to the Second Amendment Foundation.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Occupy 101

That education bubble ought to be bursting anytime now. Roosevelt “University” in Chicago is offering a class on the Occupy movement.
Thirty-two undergraduate students are enrolled at Roosevelt University's "Occupy Everywhere" class. It's a three-credit political science course that looks at the movement that started last summer near New York City's Wall Street and spread nationwide.

The Chicago Sun-Times reports ( ) students' assignments include reading the movement's newspaper and attending Occupy Chicago's general assembly meetings held near Roosevelt's downtown campus.

Leaders from the Chicago movement may present guest lectures. Air fresheners and flea collars will be provided.
Ok, I added that last bit. But it’s definitely something that the school should consider. BTW, does the curriculum include a for-credit course on the Tea Party? (And, yes, that’s a rhetorical question).

Powers vs. rights (or why Justice Ginsburg is talking out of the back of her neck)

Roger Pilon has written a thoughtful article on the U.S. Constitution which, contra Ginsburg, argues that its wisdom lies precisely in focusing on the limitation of government power, rather than a lengthy enumeration of “rights”.
It’s true that our Framers, unlike many others, especially more recently, did not focus their attention on rights. Instead, they focused on powers— and for good reason. Because we have an infinite number of rights, depending on how they’re defined, the Framers knew that they couldn’t possibly enumerate all of them. But they could enumerate the government’s powers, which they did. Thus, given that they wanted to create a limited government, leaving most of life to be lived freely in the private sector rather than through public programs of the kind we have today, the theory of the Constitution was simple and straightforward: where there is no power there is a right, belonging either to the states or to the people.
H/T: Overlawyered.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Is Detroit reverting to a frontier town?

Some interesting data from Bob Belvedere (Hey, maybe the town really does need Clint Eastwood's help).

The flip side of the religion of "peace"

Pamela Geller on the Islamic infiltration of the West.

H/T: Jill

Half-time in America

Tina Korbe at Hot Air has two fine parodies of Clint Eastwood's controversial Chrysler commercial.

World's oldest living thing

More than a hundred thousand years old! What is this strange creature?...










Yeah, that's what I was thinking, too, but, nope, it turns out to be this right here.

Is Jeff Goldstein now truly an outlaw?

Could be, depending on how you read the Department of Homeland Security's new guidelines.


Friend, commenter, conservative activist and all-around fine human being, Deborah Leigh, is trying to get back east to attend the funeral of a beloved aunt. She could use some financial assistance, which can be effected through hitting Richard McEnroe's tip jar.

Monday, February 6, 2012

Glamour wheels

Seraphic Secret has put together a series of photos of some famous Hollywood actors and their very sweet rides.

Speaking of wheels, did you ever borrow your dad's dream car, and... you know...

Junius to President Obama

Fourth in an occasional series


One little thought to encounter, in this day and age, a person of Your Excellency’s high standing effectually walking about with a placard reading “No Popery!”; yet, you are a man possessed of many archaic sentiments and strange notions, so we cannot, in earnest, admit to genuine surprise. To sincere bafflement, however, we do register a claim, inasmuch as your brazen assault on matters of conscience acts as a bellows to further inflame the growing skepticism among the citizenry concerning the fidelity of your oath to uphold the Constitution – surely, an odd sort of strategy to pursue in an election year that will cap a term of office in which the rhetorical opiates of early days have lost much of their potency through immersion in the solution of hard reality.

That the fastening of legal duties incompatible with its dogma upon the Catholic Church should represent mere ignorance, rather than a calculated attempt to undermine the authority of that ancient institution, is a possible explanation of the event which I would be sorely tempted to believe, given the historical and cultural obtuseness of your regime; the truth, or not, of this hypothesis, however, is irrelevant in view of Your Excellency’s overarching statist designs, which admit of no independent arbitration between the demands of the government and the constitutional rights of the citizen, and therefore impose no requirement for understanding, or, ultimately, even conceding the existence of, the latter. Whether your decision should proceed from ignorance or malignity, the result is the same.

It is a feature of Your Excellency’s vision, long known to all, that America should model its policies and institutions on those of Europe. How unfortunate that we did not guess that the Europe you had in mind was Tudor England. How doubly unfortunate that we are saddled with an administration bent on replacing our traditional sources, not only of political wisdom, but of spiritual guidance and succor, with the sterile tracts of dead revolutionists, and the insane enthusiasms of their intellectual descendants. I daresay it will not be long before you acquire the distinction of having become both a religious and a secular anathema, leaving you fit for nothing but a permanent sojourn in whatever academic or public policy fever swamp that can afford you room to pitch your tent. It is a bad end, Sir, and one I fear that, should you live even unto a great old age, you will never achieve sufficient grace and wit to repent of. But then, it is not remarkable that feet of clay are so often matched by a head manufactured of the same material.

Happy birthday, Mr. President!

February 6th is Ronald Reagan’s birthday. Tree Hugging Sister over at Coalition of the Swilling has a great video clip that reminds me of why I miss him so much.

“Federal parliament resumes tomorrow. Nobody knows why.”

And with that witty opening, Tim Blair is off to a great start in handicapping Australia’s current political lineup.

I confess that I didn’t know who many (indeed, most) of these people were before reading the article, but now that Tim has made the introductions, I shall follow their future careers with considerable interest.

And elsewhere down under…

As always, Boy on a Bike beguiles us with his photos, and educates us on bicycle culture (for example, the embarrassment of “lack of mud flap bum”).

Bingbing ponders the Cli-Fi scientists’ very unscientific tendency to argue from authority, as opposed to arguing from the facts.

At Tizona, Frollicking Mole evaluates a typically Gillardian dilemma.

That wild man of the web, Tim T, delves into the typology of “fetch”.

I am absolutely mortified that I somehow contrived to miss Australia Day. Kae has a nice video celebration of every red-blooded American’s “second home”.

Is there no end to the sordidness of the Kennedys?

Now we learn of JFK's affair with a 19-year-old intern (H/T: Smitty).

Sunday, February 5, 2012

We frequently scoff at the French...

...but every now and then one of them gets it right.

Monday movie

Anton Wolbrook, in the role of a German refugee in England during WWII, explains why he wants to live and work in Britain (from The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp - a great film, incidentally, not nearly as well known as it should be; see Kathy Schaidle’s review here).

Obama's war on the Catholic Church

The Obama administration's order that all employers, including the Catholic Church, must offer health coverage that pays for sterilization, abortafacients and contraception was denounced from the pulpits of Catholic churches across America today. Our parish priest read a letter co-written by the bishops of the Arlington and Richmond dioceses this morning, and this section, in particular, sang with defiance:
We cannot - we will not - comply with this unjust law. People of faith cannot be made second class citizens. We are already joined by our brothers and sisters of all faiths and many others of good will in this important effort to regain our religious freedom...Standing together, we must defend our right to practice what we profess...
Our right to practice what we profess. Exactly so. If we cannot practice what we profess, then our faith is nothing but empty words.

Of course, the Pope has an easy solution to hand. He has but to revive the Order of the Templars, put me in charge, and let me handle negotiations with the administration in my own way.

Brother Paco goes to Washington, secures rescission of health care edict

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Sunday funnies

A modern version of John Henry.

Woman claims she failed sobriety test due to her large breasts (sounds legit to me).

Deep calling to deep

Or, perhaps, creep calling to creep.

Update - Rinardman, in the comments:
Maher vs. OWS

No-class warfare.

The Disarmer-in-Chief

This man needs to be kept away from national office at all costs.

Imaginary numbers

Much is being made in the legacy media about the drop in the unemployment rate to 8.3% (which - Hello! - is still half a percentage point higher than when Obama took office). James Pethokoukis explains (a) why this unemployment number is a phony advertisement for economic recovery, and (b) why the preshizzle is probably going to lose, anyway, in spite of his bogus job statistics.

Friday, February 3, 2012

Yeah, that sounds like a great idea

The government already regulates tobacco and alcohol, so, sure, let's go ahead and let it regulate sugar.

"Drop the Dixie Crystals, low life!"

That's some news aggregation right there!

If you haven't seen it yet, by all means check out the new conservative news and opinion aggregation site, Bad Blue (H/T: Doug Ross).

Nancy Pelosi: "I'm going to stick with my fellow Catholics heretics"

Everyone, I suppose, is familiar with the word "limbo". In medieval theology, according to The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, it was considered "the abode of souls excluded from the full blessedness of the beatific vision, but not condemned to any other punishment." There was the limbus patrum, in which dwell those noble souls excluded from the beatific vision until the Second Coming of Christ, and the limbus infantium, reserved for the souls of unbaptised children. There was also, according to popular belief, another limbo which served as the permanent place for the souls of people considered too stupid to be held responsible for their sins. I submit, based on the evidence, that the very best that Nancy Pelosi can hope for is a lean-to on a vacant lot in the limbus fatuorum.

Update: Romney says he'll rescind Obama's order. Hope he means it.

What would Obama/Holder style gun-control look like in the U.S.?

Probably a lot like this.
Just when was Ian Thomson guilty of unsafe storage of a firearm? Mr. Thomson is the Port Colborne, Ont., man currently standing trial in a Welland, Ont. courtroom after he and his home were attacked by firebombers in August, 2010. (That's correct, in the topsy-turvy world of Canadian criminal justice, Mr. Thomson and his home were the ones attacked and yet he is the one on trial.)
Truth to tell, in places like Chicago and D.C., that’s probably what gun control does look like.

H/T: Small Dead Animals

Thursday, February 2, 2012


A second look at Christopher Hitchens.

Another crony capitalist in the news.

Democrat hypocrisy on taxes.

Separated at birth?

Janet Napolitano is slow to grasp the obvious.

The gospel according to St. Barry.

Eric Holder is guilty of many things, including insulting our intelligence. The mother of slain Border Patrol agent Brian Terry has the last, heart-felt, truth-right-between-the-eyes word on Holder.

Say, maybe man is responsible for disappearing glaciers (this man certainly seems to be; H/T to Captain Heinrichs).

What? That stupid groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil, predicted six more weeks of winter!

"Here, boy!"

Nano quadcopter robots!

Man, I'd like to buzz one of our directors' meetings with these things.

Happy Feet Friday

Time to go south of the border, now, with the fetching Monica Lewis (from The Strip, 1951).

Continuing with the Latin theme, the lovely Ellen Conner sings, “Say Si Si”.

Maybe they ought to be frisking their own

A TSA agent at New York's JFK International Airport has been charged with grand larceny after lifting five thousand dollars out of a passenger's pocket.

This kind of thing seems to be getting to be a habit:
— Last month, an agent who worked searching checked luggage at the Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport was suspended after the owner of a stolen iPad used the tracking feature on the device to locate it at the agent's home. Police found seven other iPads there.

—On Jan. 10, former TSA agent Paul Yashou pleaded guilty to stealing a $15,000 watch from a passenger's belongings at Los Angeles International Airport in May. He is awaiting sentencing.

— Two other former TSA agents at JFK were sentenced on Jan. 10 to six months in jail and five years' probation for stealing $40,000 from a piece of luggage in January 2011. The agents, Coumar Persad and Davon Webb, had pleaded guilty to grand larceny, obstructing governmental administration and official misconduct.

— Also in January, authorities charged an agent at Miami International Airport with swiping items and luggage and smuggling them out of the airport in a hidden pocket of his work jacket. He was arrested after one of the items, an iPad, was spotted for sale on Craigslist. Another TSA employee was arrested in July at nearby Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood International Airport after an airline employee reported that the man slipped an iPad into his pants.

— In December, police charged a TSA screener at New York's LaGuardia Airport with lifting a laptop after a Detroit-bound passenger left it behind at the security station.

— Earlier last year, a TSA supervisor and one of his officers pleaded guilty in a scheme that lifted $10,000 to $30,000 from passengers' belongings at Newark Liberty International Airport. A federal judge sentenced the supervisor, Michael Arato, to 2½ years in prison and his subordinate, Al Raimi, to six months of home confinement.

You know, I kinda relate to this

College football prospect, Cassanova McKinzy, chose Auburn over Clemson because the former has a Chick-Fil-A on campus.

I fully appreciate Mr. McKinzy's criterion. Mrs. Paco and I went to a Chick-Fil-A on our first date back in 1976, and we both still love their sandwiches.

Are the New York Times editors on strike?

Or are they just uncommonly lazy? An intrepid reporter takes a look at six months worth of corrections.

Even faster and furiouser

Eric Holder is, once again, preparing to do his impression of a pea on a hot shovel as he drags his lyin' arse before Rep. Issa's committee today. Patrick Richardson fisks Holder's prepared remarks.

Time out

I don't know about you, but I'm getting pretty fed up with politics right about now. Looks like it's time for a Sophia Loren break.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Ann Coulter has lost her mind

Three cheers for...Romneycare?!?

Mark Levin responds, and Philip Klein also applies the clue-by-four.

(H/T: Legal Insurrection)

I suspect that a Romney presidency is going to end badly

For America, for conservatives and for the Republican Party, unless he is counterbalanced with conservative wins in the legislative branch.

The only reason that I'll be voting for him if he wins the nomination is because the alternative is so much worse. Romney, at least, would not be motivated by the leftist zeal that drives the Community-Organizer-in-Chief, and I doubt he could engineer a foreign policy as idiotic as Obama's if he tried. Besides, a second Obama term could possibly heat up what has so far been our "cold" civil war, as he would be free to accelerate his assault on the private sector, religious freedom and Second Amendment rights. Romney is a weather vane. So let us hope (to borrow from, and alter, Captain Renault) that the prevailing wind does not blow from Vichy. And let us work to fill the House and Senate with stout conservative hearts - leaving not even the winds to chance.

"I dunno. What do you want my ideology to look like?"


Regardless of which Republican presidential candidate you like (or hate) most, I think you'll find these "Bad Lip reading" videos at Legal Insurrection funny.