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Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.) Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu. This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things. Friday, March 29, 2002
DAD BLAST IT!
Not wanting to have to answer the angry e-mails from all of Rich Hailey's readers, I have replaced his original nominee of Fred Thompson with noted author and worm feeder Lewis Grizzard. Grizzard, formerly listed as not eligible for the Croix de Grits due to his status as a DEAD guy, has nonetheless been added by an invocation of the Calvinball rules, which allows the poll assembler to add only one DEAD guy in order to keep the nominator from acting like an all-fired big ass baby. NOW, I must get ready to go--we leave at 0700 and I simply must get a shower. See y'all Monday. Thursday, March 28, 2002
The Invasion of Tennessee
You may not realize it, but today is actually Friday. At least it is for me. I will be off tomorrow and will be traveling to Nashville with my family and my in-laws to attend a convention of sorts. I will be completely devoid of means of access to the old Possumblog or to e-mail the entire weekend, so if any of you have a life and death matter to discuss, you’ll have to wait until Monday. The convention is going to be at the Opryland Hotel, where we will be ensconced with 8,100 of our closest friends. In our package of information we got at church, the coordinator guy gave us a copy of the food court menu—a barbecue sandwich costs 7 bucks. That better be some darned good barbecue, or it better be half a pig. To combat such price gouging (and in keeping with our usual white-trash-vacation custom) we will be bringing along our own poke full of groceries. Of course, since we will be staying in such an uptown place, we will probably use the good paper bags with handles, and there will be name-brand commodities in there, too. And no potted meat or Vienna sausages. We will have real Cheez-Its (not the Crackin’ Good Winn-Dixie store-brand variety) and real Ruffles, and probably will have real Cokes. I believe we are lined up to have sandwiches, so my mother-in-law may bring along some of the ham and turkey she fixed the other night. The trip up might be nice—back at Christmas, Santa Claus got us one of those tiny TVs with a VCR built in and a DC power jack. We intend to anesthetize the children with Videothorazine, hopefully to combat the well-known effects of traveling with tiny terrorists. “She’s staring at me!” “She touched my finger!” “He’s tooting and it STINKS!” They know not to press too much—I may be the only person in the world to actually make good on the “turn this thing around and head home” threat. (Actually, I only had to pull off to the side of the road and pretend I was going to turn, but it was enough.) Each one got to pick out one movie to take along, although I set my foot firmly down and forbad any Mary Kate and Ashley Olson movies. Maybe it would work better if I was the one tranquilized. I always thought it was funny when my dad would pack to go on vacation. Everything he had would fit in a brown paper grocery bag. It took him about 15 minutes. We are only going to be gone for two days, yet it looks like we’re practicing to be the road company for Les Miserables. Two different rollie bags; one huge hanging bag; the striped tote for toiletries, makeup, and hair dryer; a giant duffel bag; three purses (yes, even little Miss Five Year Old simply MUST have one); the other striped tote bag for the 15 pounds of crayons and coloring books; the aforementioned TV with its little carrying case and four videos; then the larder. Of this bounty, my share will be a dress shirt and pair of pants, two pairs of underwear, two undershirts, two pairs of socks, a pair of dress shoes, a razor, a comb, and a can of Sure. So, anyway, that’s it for now. I’ll see you all bright and early on April Fool’s Day.
New Nominee for the Croix de Grits--There's Gonna Be A Bumpin'
From loyal Possumblog consumer Janis Gore of Vidalia, Sportsman's Paradise, we received the following: Dear Mr. Oglesby: How about Mr. Ray Charles for the Croix? My memory doesn’t extend to any dreadful thing he has ever said that would discredit the South and few people have done more to popularize the various types of music common to the south – blues, jazz, country, rock & roll. I remember a television interview some years ago in which the interviewer asked him about money. Mr. Charles said he didn’t put too much value on money. “I can’t ride in but one car at a time, can’t sleep with but one woman at a time, can’t eat but one meal at a time. It doesn’t take so much money for that.” Or something very close. Excellent choice, and he is still alive. As promised, when worthy nominees are put forth, the underperforming nominees will be yanked from the poll list (only 10 spots are available). Using the mighty power invested in me due to my status as North America's only marsupial blogger, I hereby say a tart-tongued "Goodbye!" to New York Times editor Howell Raines. Mr. Raines has garnered no votes in the past few days, and every time I think of the New York Times, I think of the Pace Picante Sauce commercial where the cowboys derisively say "NEW YORK CITY?!" So, in his stead, Albany, Georgia's own Ray Charles.
Militant Palestinian group rejects Arab peace overture to Israel, vows to continue attacks
WOW! Imagine that! I'm stunned! In Gaza City, Hamas spokesman Abdel Aziz Rantisi said the Arab summit did not change anything for his group, which is dedicated to Israel's destruction. "As long as there is occupation, there will be a resistance. So we say it clearly: Occupation should be stopped and then there will be something else," Rantisi said. "I believe that the resistance and the intefadeh will continue in all forms," Hamdan said. Asked if "all forms" includes suicide bombings, he replied: "The type of operation is left for Hamas' military wing to decide." Scene: Hamas war room-- PALESTINIAN JIHADI: "Gosh guys, maybe we need to quit killing civilians through the use of suicide bombers--it's making us look awfully bad." PALESTINIAN JIHADI'S BOSS: "You're right, as usual, Abdul. After you blow yourself up, we'll quit" PALESTINIAN JIHADI: "Oh good, an end to the cycle of violence!"
Boston drops lawsuit on guns
From the Boston Globe: [...]Over the last three years, city lawyers spent close to half a million taxpayer dollars, took statements from dozens of gun industry executives, and gained access to hundreds of thousands of internal company documents. But it became apparent in recent months that the case remained on shaky legal ground, said city officials. They worried that the judge would reject their theory that guns amounted to a public nuisance, similar to pollution, on which the city could set regulations and levy fines. With legal costs spiraling, topping $30,000 per month, and the city's budget shrinking, officials decided they could no longer fight on. ''We came to a point where, with the financial situation in the city and state being what it is, we had to determine how to best use our funding,'' said John Auerbach, executive director of the Boston Public Health Commission, which handled the case. [...] The city's lawsuit contended that gun makers negligently ignored signs that some area gun stores repeatedly made illegal sales, placing firearms in the hands of violent criminals. Other allegations included the failure to manufacture safer weapons; failure to adequately warn consumers about the risks of gun use; unjust profits at the expense of the public; and illegal marketing of guns to minors. The suit sought $100 million to recoup weapons-related costs to the city's police and fire departments, emergency services, schools, and hospitals. If you're right, the cost should be secondary. Of course, that assumes that you're right. If you really have damages of $100,000,000, seems like the $500,000 spent so far would be a bargain. Of course, that assumes that you really have damages. Remember what Walter Mathau said in the Bad News Bears about ASS/U/ME.
Lewis Grizzard
Rich Hailey of Shots Across the Bow nominates a well-known, but highly dead, author for the Croix de Grits: [From Grizzard's biography]Grizzard likened the pressure to top oneself day after day in print to "being married to a nymphomaniac... it's a whole lot of fun for the first week." Every blogger that's been around more than two weeks knows exactly what Lewis meant. That was Lewis' gift; he knew us, and could talk to us and about us. My first exposure to Lewis was the book When my Love Returns from the Ladies room, Will I be too Old to Care? I was a young man, just starting out dating a lovely young lady, and this issue was at the forefront of our relationship. What does a man do when his date has left the table to go to the ladies room? You're sitting there, feeling awkward with nothing to do and no-one to talk to. You would welcome the return of the waitress who couldn't stay away from your table long enough to allow you to finish a single bite of your meal without interrupting you to ask if everything was OK, but she is bound by Female Law 137.2 to stay away from your table while you wait for the eventual return of your date. When I saw Lewis's book, I knew that I had found my master, the man who could explain everything about women and the world. Of course, as I read, I found out that Lewis was just as befuddled as I was, but it didn't seem to matter. Instead of a master, I had found something even better; a friend walking the same road I was. The Croix de Grits is intended to be something to mark the accomplishments of contemporary living folks, mainly because I figured if we started adding in all the dearly departed, we would have way yonder more folks than we could handle. Also, notification and correspondence with the eventual winner will not require the use of a spirit medium, but the use of the only slightly more reliable digital medium. But we all recognize that Faulker is right and that here in the South, not only is the past not dead, it's not even past. So, in order to placate the spirit world, after the living world chooses the first recipient of the Croix de Grits, we will establish yet another award for worthy, yet thoroughly dead, contributors to the goodness of the South. We have not yet picked out a suitable title for this award yet, but I imagine it will by necessity have to include the word "haint."
Birmingham Coca-Cola Bottling Co.
One of the bad things about having a Coke bottler in town was that it skewed the odds of Co-coler Poker--there was always an abundance of "Birmingham," a good many "Montgomery", but hardly ever any "Chattanooga" or "Atlanta." There was always one kid who won every time. I really think he kept an empty bottle hidden on him somewhere, like having a card up your sleeve. Anyway, Birmingham Co-Coler is 100 years old this year. It all started thusly: "1902 Birmingham businessman Crawford T. Johnson uses $12,000 and a borrowed mule to open Birmingham's first Coca-Cola plant. It is located in a 25-by-50-foot building on 24th Street North and produced 30 cases of Coca-Cola per hour. It served 50 retailers." Birmingham-based Coca-Cola Bottling United is now the third-largest Coke bottler in the U.S.
You think Al Qaeda is tough, try dealing with reporters from the NY Times and the Guardian
From the Birmingham News: Capt. A.C. Roper, commander of an Army Reserve public affairs unit based in Birmingham, has become the primary media spokesman for U.S. and allied troops in southern Afghanistan. Based at the bombed-out airport terminal in Kandahar that has become a major U.S. military compound, Roper, 38, has been on CNN, MSNBC, Fox News and foreign television networks. He fields press inquiries from newspapers and wire services worldwide. He's been trained by the Department of Defense but, when he's not on active duty, Roper is the primary spokesman for Hoover police. "Working with local media in Birmingham was a good training ground," Roper said. "Media, whether in Birmingham, Pakistan or London, they're all looking for the same thing credible information that's accurate and a public affairs person that's responsive." Good article.
How did I miss this yesterday? 'GM to Bring Back G.T.O'--THANKS TIM BLAIR!
"It will deliver the kind of performance that made the original GTO legendary," GM Vice Chairman Bob Lutz told reporters at the New York auto show. The GTO will be based on the Holden Monaro, a 5.7 liter V8 with a six-speed manual transmission made by GM's Australian division Holden, but with a new front end to make it look like a Pontiac. Providing the vehicle passes U.S. safety standards, GM will import up to 20,000 a year, company officials said. "You gotta wind it up, tach it up, blow it out--GTOOOOOOOOOOO!" I'm sure Aussie Tim Cobber Mate will verify that the Monaro kicks butt. Bet on a new "Little G.T.O" song to be released, too. Of course, Three deuces and a four speed, on a three-eight-nine; Boy she's really so fine rings a little better than Eight injectors and a six-speed, on a three-five-oh; Boy she's really..." "not slow"?..."no 'ho"? Drive On. Wednesday, March 27, 2002
British Broadcasting Corporation Sold For US$51, Nekkid Chef Sacked
Due to the tireless efforts of Miss Emily Jones, a suitable buyer for the struggling media giant was found in one Dave Worley. And there was much rejoicing.
R.E.M.'s Stipe tells trial Buck is a 'southern gentleman'
[...] "He's just not a person who is rude to anyone," Stipe told Isleworth Crown Court in west London. "Something that people don't often know about the American South, there is what is called a southern gentleman, and Peter is my definition of such. He is someone who is considerate of all people, gentle and polite. That is why this whole thing to me is absurd." [...] Prosecutors say Buck acted like a "drunken lout" after consuming 15 glasses of wine on the flight. They say he overturned a breakfast trolley, mistook a hostess trolley for a CD player, claimed a stranger sitting on the plane was his wife and tussled with crew members, covering them with yogurt. Crew members have testified they pulled Buck away from an exit door after he announced he was "going home" mid-flight. Michael, I've seen Southern gentlemen, and I've seen drunks. Pete Buck is no Otis Campbell!
Coffee is hot, judge rules
High Court Justice Richard Field said McDonald's has no obligation to warn customers about the risk of scalding. Timothy Horlock, a lawyer for the plaintiffs, had argued that that McDonald's served drinks that were too hot, used inadequate cups and did not warn customers of the risks. At least 16 of the plaintiffs were younger five years old when they were injured, he said. Judge Field said that McDonald's customers would not accept coffee and other drinks if they were served at temperatures low enough to prevent scalding. He said the safety of hot drinks sold by McDonald's meets the general expectations of the public. "I am quite satisfied that McDonald's was entitled to assume that the consumer would know that the drink was hot and there are numerous commonplace ways of speeding up cooling, such as stirring and blowing," the judge said. But stirring leads to repetitive-stress syndrome; and what of those who are differently blowing-enabled? What about THOSE people, Judge Field!?
Indian Scientists Use Radiation to Cure Flatulence
or: "Droppin' the Bomb" or: "Pull My Finger, But Not While It's On The Red Button" or: "Pakistani Scientists Claim Flatulence Only a Smoke Screen for Nuke Research"
Spotting the Losers: Seven Signs of Non-Competitive States
Via Steven Den Beste at USS Clueless, a thought-provoking paper by Ralph Peters presented on the US Army's Carlisle Barracks/US Army War College website. Just a part (be sure to read it all): Traditional indicators of noncompetitive performance still apply: corruption (the most seductive activity humans can consummate while clothed); the absence of sound, equitably enforced laws; civil strife; or government attempts to overmanage a national economy. As change has internationalized and accelerated, however, new predictive tools have emerged. They are as simple as they are fundamental, and they are rooted in culture. The greater the degree to which a state--or an entire civilization--succumbs to these "seven deadly sins" of collective behavior, the more likely that entity is to fail to progress or even to maintain its position in the struggle for a share of the world's wealth and power. Whether analyzing military capabilities, cultural viability, or economic potential, these seven factors offer a quick study of the likely performance of a state, region, or population group in the coming century. The Seven Factors These key "failure factors" are: Restrictions on the free flow of information. The subjugation of women. Inability to accept responsibility for individual or collective failure. The extended family or clan as the basic unit of social organization. Domination by a restrictive religion. A low valuation of education. Low prestige assigned to work. Not that this sounds like anyone I know of.
Guns under pillows in crime-wave Britain
"Guns feature alongside baseball bats and hammers among the arsenal kept by almost one in 10 worried householders," security firm Micromark said on Tuesday, citing a telephone survey of 1,000 people. The company said eight percent of those sleeping next to a weapon had a gun, equating to about 100,000 homes. But a Home Office spokeswoman said barring special licenses for certain handguns and shotguns, there were only 125,000 licensed firearms altogether in England and Wales. No word on the number of licensed baseball bats or hammers.
Arab Summit in Disarray as Palestinians Walk Out
[...]Farouq al-Kaddoumi, head of the Palestine Liberation Organization's political department, told Qatar's al-Jazeera television the Palestinian delegation had quit because Lebanese President Emile Lahoud had blocked the broadcast of Arafat's speech from his West Bank office. "This is an Arab summit, not a Lebanon summit," Kaddoumi added. "The summit is for all the Arabs and for the (Palestinian) Intifada and he (Lahoud) has no right not to listen to the Palestinian speech." And it was a good one, too--in it, Mr. Arafat denounced suicide bombings as Satanic in origin and not in keeping with the peaceful tenants of Islam. He went on to state that attempts to eradicate Israel from the political map had been wrongminded, and that not only was it possible to live in peace, he would make non-violent social change his primary tool for gaining rights for the Palestinian people. He quoted freely from Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Letter From a Birmingham Jail--"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial "outside agitator" idea. " "Just as Socrates felt that it was necessary to create a tension in the mind so that individuals could rise from the bondage of myths and half-truths to the unfettered realm of creative analysis and objective appraisal, we must see the need of having nonviolent gadflies to create the kind of tension in society that will help men to rise from the dark depths of prejudice and racism to the majestic heights of understanding and brotherhood." "Will we be extremists for hate or will we be extremists for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice--or will we be extremists for the cause of justice?" Arafat urged the Palestinian delegates to return to the conference. In addition, he called on all Arab nations to suspend any payments of money which might encourage more suicidal zealots to take action, and called on them to look to the example set by Egypt and Jordan and accept peace with Israel as not only plausible, but desirable. Sorry, early April Fool's Day prank. In a related story, Explosion in hotel during Passover, 15 reported killed and 100 wounded "There was no immediate Palestinian comment." Well, imagine that. Must be trying to figure out who to congratulate. Or come up with a story in which the attack was staged by Israelis to discredit the Palestinians.
Possumblog Poll Place Now Open!
As promised, we have set up a webpage where interested readers of the Cotton State Blog Writers' Colloquium and Heavy Recoil Society may vote upon our nominees for the highest award in Alablogdom, the legendary Croix de Grits. To date, ten deserving nominees have been put forward, which is fortunate, as the poll software only allows ten answers. When other nomination are submitted by the membership of the Axis of Weevil, the lowest ranked nominees will be unceremoniously yanked and replaced with new nominees. At this time, the nominees are: Astrophysicist Dr. Thomas Wdowiak Author Florence King Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas The black voters of Mississippi New York Times editor Howell Raines Ave Maria Grotto builder Br. Joseph Zoettl Alabama's Major League Baseball players Pulitzer Prize-winning author Edward O. Wilson Tennessee Senator Fred Thompson National Security Advisor Condoleeza Rice So, go vote!
Connie Nom for Croix de Grits
Lee Ann Morawski sends in another nomination for the cherished award for valorious Alabamosity: My next nominee will be Condoleeza Rice, of Birmingham, Alabama. Her political contributions are quite clear, considering her starring role in leading the War on Terror. However her intellectual achievements should not be ignored. She served as provost of Stanford, is the Thomas and Barbara Stephenson Senior Fellow at the Hoover Institution, and is a tenured professor of political science. Talk about extending Alabama’s cultural hegemony! Indeed! You know, I didn't even think of Ms. Rice and shame on me. I may have to rethink my vote. (Or just vote multiple times) As an aside, Colin Powell's wife Alma also grew up in Birmingham. IN a related matter, I am concerned about Gena Lewis' sudden urge to start talking smack about the Hog and Hominy Staters giving the Axis of Weevil a run for its money. Leave it to a bunch of lawyers to bring money into it! Don't get too cocky, there, sis--remember you proclaim yourself to be a ::gulp:: L-I-B-E-R-A-L, and as the Lone Ranger, you might get into one of those situations where Tonto says "What this WE business, Kemo Sabe!?" In any event, remember to check out Shots Across the Bow by East Tennessean Rich Hailey. And lest any of you outlanders mistake Miss Gena's intrafamilial backtalk as a sign of potential weakness, all I can say is we's family, and we can whup up on each other as much as we want. But we'll whup you worse than we do each other so watch out!
Reason #3,245 To Let J.Lileks Do Your Screeds This Year
Rare form and rarin' to go; a light sample herewith: People in my camp are often accused of being slope-shouldered keyboard monkeys channeling the spirits of Mars from our warm comfy rooms, urging war! war! war! against Iraq with no thought towards the consequences. The worst consequence, oddly enough, seems to be the defeat of Iraq. Why, this might destabilize the entire region. True. It’s also true that the defeat of Berlin ushered in a brief period of destabilization in southern France. What’s not certain is why stability is our friend - particularly when we are talking about a state, or states, that regard Americans as slick fat curs sucking the hind tit of Satan’s shitzu. Tuesday, March 26, 2002
A Novo Hampshirian Takes a Gander at the South
From Mark Byron, a link to another Yankee feller, Benjamin Kepple, who talks up the 'Saving of Civilization by The South' idea, with a slightly different viewpoint. Good points, including: "First, to say main-line Southern culture is responsible for the good found in the old Civil Rights struggle is stretching it, to say the least. The fight for racial equality would have been far less productive without the support of Northern politicians and Northern activists of all races, who frequently made great sacrifices to ensure their fellow men were made equal in the eyes of the Law. Indeed, had Northerners such as President Kennedy not supported the civil rights leaders of that era, one can imagine the struggle would have been far less peaceful, and might have resulted in a far more radical political shift than the one which took place. After all, without outside help, who knows how long Rev King's message of non-violence would have lasted? How long before those disgusted with seeing blacks as second-class citizens in the South turned en masse to socialism? This is not idle thinking, either. The historian Harry Turtledove, whom one could call a Southern sympathiser, has put forth a similar hypothesis in his "alternative history" books." The only part I can fault is that the folks who were "disgusted with seeing blacks as second-class citizens in the South" often turned a blind eye to the the reality of blacks being treated as second-class citizens in the North. Back in February I linked to a Newhouse News Service article detailing the Great Migration from the South to the North and Midwest, and the very similar conditions blacks had to contend with in both the North and the South. The portrait is not a flattering one, regardless of your location relative to the Mason-Dixon Line.
Roger Clinton, Airport Consultant
From the Birmingham News: A movement to build an international airport in Alabama fizzled in 1997 after a former Birmingham City Council member refused to hire President Clinton's half brother, a congressional panel concluded. [...] [T]he House Government Reform Committee describes how Katopodis alleges he was pressured to hire Roger Clinton for $35,000 a month in exchange for getting a cabinet secretary to attend a symposium on the airport idea. After Katopodis ultimately declined to hire Roger Clinton, his overtures to then-Secretary of Transportation Rodney Slater were ignored, investigators said. "Support for the airport and its promotional symposium lost all momentum because of the delay in receiving a response from the secretary," the report states. Katopodis said Monday the local political enthusiasm for the airport was already wavering and his refusal to hire the president's younger brother may have been a factor in, but was not the sole cause of, the failure of his proposal. "I don't think the Clinton administration's extortion attempts were very helpful to the whole process, but there were other factors as well," Katopodis said. "That wasn't it alone. I think they took some editorial license there." Well, I reckon so. Of course, "editorial license" and "extortion attempts" aren't quite in the same league, are they.
You Say 'Trollish Hit Whore' Like It's A Bad Thing
Please send Greg Hlatky a note. Do not try to enlarge his breasts, though.
Idle Hands Are The Devil's Workshop
The hardy members of The Pseudo-Melangaic, Not Quite Axially Oriented Network of Tangentially Interconnected Alabama Blog Cells ("We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune. We take it in turns to act as a sort of executive officer for the week, but all the decisions of that officer have to be ratified at a special bi-weekly meeting by a simple majority in the case of purely internal affairs, but by a two-thirds majority in the case of more major...")--otherwise known as the Axis of Weevil, have begun turning in their homework assignments in which they nominate potential recipients of the Croix de Grits for actions over and above the call of duty in promoting the eventual domination of the world by Southern Culture. In no particular order, we have: From Lee Ann Morawski of Spinsters.com I received the following nominees: The aforementioned Florence King for her literary and cultural achievements. See Memoirs of a Failed Southern Lady, Southern Ladies and Gentlemen, and the Florence King Reader for supporting evidence. Her "Misanthrope's Corner" in National Review On-dead-tree is great, too. Clarence Thomas for his political and intellectual achievements. He is also a burr under the saddle of liberals everywhere. He's from Georgia I believe, or SC. [Born in Pin Point, Georgia, for the record. Possum] The black voters of Mississippi, who are nominated for sheer all-fired cussed orneriness. Klan don't want us to vote? Screw 'em. NAACP wants to take away our flag? Screw them too. 66% of black 'Ssippians voted to keep the state flag with the Stars and Bars. If that isn't the Southern piss-ass tradition, what is? Charles Austin, producer of Sine Qua Non Pundit sends in the following: Howell Raines is an Alabamian who has made good. The problem in this case is that made good is relative. After distinguishing and polishing his liberal credentials on the op-ed pages, he is now the editor of the New York Times. Of course, if a native Alabamian can become the de facto leader of the Northeast liberal establishment, that's quite an accomplishment. My favorite character in Alabama was the Benedictine Monk Brother Joseph Zoettl, O.S.B., who built the Ave Maria Grotto in Cullman out of marbles, cold cream jars, etc. If you haven't been there, you need to go sometime. It really is amazing ... and it's in Cullman! From Mac Thomason, War Liberal: "The list of baseball players from Alabama is probably the most impressive of any state, per capita. Birmingham produced Willie Mays, but Mobile... Wow. Hank Aaron, Satchel Paige, Willie McCovey, Billy Williams, Tommie Agee, Cleon Jones, Amos Otis, and Ozzie Smith. Early Wynn was from Hartford, Don Sutton from Clio -- I don't even know where that is!" [For the record, Clio is in Barbour County, and is the birthplace of George Corley Wallace. Possum] Elizabeth Spiers at Capital Influx has a good'un (and a nice take on the Axis of Weevil): My nomination is going to be Birmingham native Edward O. Wilson. A world-famous biologist and Pulitzer Prize-winning author, named by Time magazine as one of America's 25 most influential people of the 20th century, this mild-mannered, courtly southerner has been raising hackles for much of his career [I'm all for hackle raising.] Lost My Marbles guy Ray Mikell reports as follows: "Will get back to you, I think, but I'm freakin' insane busy right now. Goin' to be in New Orleans Friday, though, to present a conference paper and blah blah and then go do some very southern things, besides look out at St. Charles from a place with an actual veranda: 1) See a Tennesse Williams play, 2) Eat way too much creole food and 3) See a real jazz show, downtown, by a real New Orleans outfit. Oh, and I'll drink too. But I don't think I really needed to mention that. It's a rough life. Danged if it ain't. So, there you have it...for the moment, at least.
Shots Across the Bow
Former Navy man and native Tennessean Rich Hailey started his blog back in January, and having found the Possum's nest, has proposed an alliance with the Axis of Weevil in order to promote his choice for the Croix de Grits, Tennessee Senator Fred Thompson. As with all medal citation applications, Mr. Hailey will be required to enumerate the ways in which Thompson has made the South a better place. Even though Rich is not an Alabamian, my dad was in the Navy, and Rich has even more kids than I do, and East Tennessee has the Smoky Mountains, so there should be no complaints about allowing him to play. Remember, Possumblog plays by Calvinball rules, which may change as the game progresses. Monday, March 25, 2002
You say "cultural chauvinist" like it's a bad thing!
A long one from Steven Den Beste on the mutal exclusivity of Islamofascism and Civilization. Lots of good points to ponder--one in particular: I happen to be an atheist but I don't intend to impose atheism on anyone else. My nation is secular and democratic, but I don't think that as a matter of principle we should go out and force the world to become democratic and secular or die at our hands. On the other hand, I do believe that my system, while imperfect, is still better than any other known one, and in the long run I think it will dominate the world. I think this will be a good thing. I, too, am a cultural chauvinist. I feel no shame in that. But I'm not militant about it, and I'm willing to tolerate other chauvinists as long as they don't become militant. This war was thrust upon us by militant Islamic extremists, whose belief system cannot tolerate mine to exist. For my system to continue to exist, theirs must be changed. This is not a war of faith on my side, it's just a practical necessity. They need not give up Islam, but their fundamentalism will have to be destroyed. Islam must become tolerant, because as long as it is not we will continue to have wars with them. I would say Den Beste's assertion in his opening paragraph that it is necessary for Muslims to give up a belief in inerrancy and universality is not quite accurate--it is not necessarily the belief in these things that causes the problems--it is the belief that it is acceptable to kill innocent people for the sake of them. Mr. Den Beste is an atheist, a philosphy which has its own somewhat strident adherents, but quite correctly he notes that he's not about to get his dynamite strapped on to go make some converts. Likewise, I am a Christian, and can be pretty hard-headed about inerrancy and universality. However, I don't think Jesus would like it if I killed 3,000 office workers in His name. For Islam to have a place in this scheme, Den Beste is quite right--learn to play nice and live in harmony, or suffer the consequences from the rest of us who are getting pretty tired of being set upon by a bunch of demi-brained hypocritical murderers.
Medal of Honor is Not A Weapon
Good one from Snopes, detailing the airport ordeal of 86 year old retired Marine Corps Gen. Joseph J. Foss.
Restoring Confidence to the Flying Public
The Transportation Department inspector general found airport security screeners on several dozen occasions failed to catch guns and simulated explosives, even after the September terrorist attacks, a person familiar with the report said Monday. Inspector General Kenneth Mead's report found that screeners missed knives 70 percent of the time and guns 30 percent of the time and also concluded that the screeners failed to detect simulated explosives 60 percent of the time, said the source, speaking on condition of anonymity. The source said Mead's report also said that banned items got through screeners almost half of the time. [...] Former FAA security chief Billie Vincent said the report was not surprising, considering that the checkpoints were staffed by the same low-paid, poorly trained screeners who were there before the Sept. 11 attacks. In addition, Vincent said, current equipment cannot detect explosives, nor can it detect many varieties of cutting tools. "The technology at the screening points is not there," Vincent said. "The current metal detectors won't do the job. If you turn it high enough to detect that much metal, you will have an alarm on every person going through." I feel better knowing that those old, low-paid, poorly trained screeners will be replaced by high-paid, richly trained screeners. Nothing will get past them, nosiree. You know, maybe if someone would decide that a four-year old girl and her grandma are not quite the same security risk as a sweaty, shifty-looking dude who bought his one-way ticket with cash...aw, who am I kidding.
Next Year In Birmingham
Article in Sunday's Birmingham News by homeboy Frederick Keimann, a free-lance critic who has become part of the diaspora in Highland Park, New Jersey, and yearns to eat his Seder in the Promised Land: I may have moved away from Birmingham, but my memories of the place are strong, and there is no better time to return to Birmingham than for the Festival of Freedom. Birmingham is a very spiritual place. People between the Cahaba and Black Warrior rivers, in the vicinity of Red Mountain and under the shadow of the once mighty Vulcan constantly think about what it means to be holy. And they take it to heart. The rest of the country isn't like that. Most of America doesn't go to church. Birmingham does. Even as a Jew, it was a privilege to live among people struggling to connect themselves with God. That's not the North. You talk like that, and people take a step back. In Birmingham, they ask if you're free for coffee. So to come to Birmingham for Passover is to return to holy ground. When I get here, I'll visit Temple Emanu-El and cry because it will always be my spiritual home. Then I go to the churches I attended for interfaith dialogues. Next to Kelly Ingram Park and Vulcan and Sloss Furnaces and Moody and Sandy Vista in Ensley, if there's time. There are so many stories here. I can only guess at all the memories, history and goodness in those places and others. My memories are the least of what makes Birmingham a great place for Passover, a most Southern Jewish holiday. The heart of the South beats with the blood of Exodus. Everyone knows the most obvious example. The Israelites' flight by slavery was widely cited by abolitionist and subsequent civil rights leaders in the struggle against slavery and its aftermath. Good article-read it all.
Bringing the Heavy Cultural Artillery of the Axis of Weevil to Bear
Good Morning, Weevil Minions! I have just sent a proposition to the membership of the Alabama Society for Blogging and World Domination that might be fun. (It also might be good to remember that a Southerner’s usual last words are "Hey, y’all; watch this!”) I don’t know how often you read the other Alablogger’s stuff, but Lee Ann Morawski of Spinsters.com and I have had a couple of entries lately about Mark Byron’s blogthesis on the role of the South in saving Civilization, which was also picked up and further expanded upon by cute-blog-name-loving Natalie Solent. One of the reasons I started my blog (aside from the huge salary and celebrity status) is because I wanted folks to know more about Alabama, and especially the positive things about our state, and the South in general. There are a lot of good things about Alabama, despite what others may think, or what we may even think ourselves. That is one of the reasons why I have tried to find as many Alabama bloggers as possible to link to. Now, here comes the fun part—Miss Lee Ann, well-known recipient of the ORDER OF MORAWSKI, and I got to discussing privately the idea of “formally” recognizing people who have gone above and beyond the call of duty in service to Alabama and the South. Sort of a Medal of Honor, or Croix de Grits, or something, given to honor contemporary folks who have contributed to the intellectual, political, artistic, literary, moral, spiritual, culinary, etc., life of the state. I have sent a message to each member of the Axis of Weevil to ask if they know of someone who has done this. I have written before about Dr. Thomas Wdowiak, who is an astrophysicist here at UAB who has worked on a bunch of NASA missions, writes a kid’s science column in the Birmingham News called “Tommy Test Tubes,” and is perennially voted “Best Professor” by his students. Lee Ann mentioned Florence King, author of Memoirs of a Failed Southern Lady. There are many we could think of, and the Alabloggers have been asked to post some links to folks they think would fit the bill. You might be asked to vote on who you think would be worthy or we might get one of us to set up an online poll to get input from you. (Details, details... Shades of Andy Hardy--“Hey, kids, let’s put on a show in the barn!”) As Lee Ann rightly mentioned to me privately, we will not be honoring just anybody. The nominees you will read about in the coming days (weeks, months--hey, we have our own open-ended operation going!) are supposed to be those who have given strong and faithful service to Alabama (or the South), have a certain pride in their Southern heritage, and maybe even a dash of good old-fashioned patriotism. One very important thing is that we are trying to ignore those who have done or said anything embarrassingly blatantly boneheaded which has brought (or might bring) down shame and reproach upon the South (or more importantly, upon the Axis of Weevil.) Lee Ann notes, however, that “eccentricity is fine. Heck, insanity is a fine Southern tradition. Keeps the riffraff out.” SO then, you have seen the birth of a challenge, a quest, a crusade to expose to the blogosphere those long-suffering Southerners who have, through their tireless efforts, opened up a No. 10-sized can of cultural whup-ass on the world. Yellowhammers! Drop two clicks and fire for effect! Sunday, March 24, 2002
Hey, guess what? I made it! (Barely) But, survived nonetheless. I think I was allowed to survive in order to go and warn the others.
Before I get cranked up, thanks to my new visitors who dropped by this weekend from Midwest Conservative Journal and Inappropriate Response and Mark Byron's blog and Ye Olde Blogge and Natalie Solent's blog and for Greg Hlatky's answer to my earlier inquiry about homophonic canines. I hope you all found something you liked, and that you visit again soon. I'm sorry I'm not a weekend blogger, but there always seems to be something happening every weekend; vis.: It was a dark and stormy night…wait, that’s not it—It turned out that the Saturday soccer action was a bit less like Julius Caesar crossing the Rubicon and a bit more like Napoleon crossing the Niemen. All that planning and driving, yet both kids' teams lost by the identical scores of 3-2. The ignominy of it all! Oh, well, at least they had a good time. Rebecca is positioned as a sweeper, and she is pretty aggressive and likes playing defense. Jonathan likes getting out and running around flailing his arms like a windmill and watching the kids on the adjoining fields. Which is not necessarily bad, except when he does this while on the field playing the game. Thankfully, his powers of concentration are a step ahead of most of the other boys on the team, so it wasn't so bad. As to the logistical challenge, there is always one thing left out of even the best plans, so the fog of war caused a slight hitch. I got finished with my meeting at church late so I got on the interstate and tried to beat it down to Shelby County, hoping to maybe catch everyone before they left the park, only to face a collision-induced mile-long traffic jam at the exit to Highway 119. I took the Highway 17 exit, figuring I would get around it one way or another. No dice, so I decided I would wait for everyone at my mom's house. Got there, walked in door, met my sister coming in the back door who said "You're supposed to be over at the park to meet your family." Explained about traffic jam and attempts to circumvent it, tried to raise my wife on the phone (not turned on), and confirmed once more with sister that they were indeed going to WAIT at the park. Got back out and, of course, the jam had completely cleared. Raced over to Our Lady of the Valley and met scowling wife about to pull out of the driveway. "I thought you were going to meet us here." Explained for final time about traffic jam, reroute attempt, mom's house, cell phone not on, me being a complete idiot--and then we went back to Mom's, got out for about ten minutes, decided that there were insufficient vittles to feed everyone, so then we all packed up again and went to eat at a restaurant. An army travels on its stomach, you know. Saturday was a beautiful, perfect spring day; although a young man's fancy may turn to thoughts of love, wives' thoughts turn to yardwork. During the ride over to the restaurant, I was informed that Lowe's has azaleas on sale, and how nice the back of the yard would look with a line of redbuds and crape myrtles across the back, and that after we get back to the house, a particular wife of mine might go over and see what Cedar Street Garden Shop has in the way of interesting, hernia-inducing stone things. Convinced of my superior reasoning ability, I suggested that shopping was okay, but not to get anything to plant or tote today, seeing as how we still had an Alpine mound of clothes to clean and two somewhat soiled kids and two really soiled kids to bathe and feed. Continuing with the theme of ancient battles, let me just say that the part of Pyrrhus fits me well. She relented, but one other such victory would undo me! Luckily, I have an extremely forgiving wife, so I was able to extricate myself from my straits with a tour of the grounds of lovely Maison d'Possum, in which we discussed the location of future plantings, future stacked rock planter beds, future water feature, future cricket pitch, future multiplex cinema, and the small hole into which I will be dumped when the old ticker squirts out of my chest. The rest of the day was uneventful—children bathed, fed, and bedded down for the night, with time to spare for me to vegetate and read a bit. I read one page of Rick Bragg's book Ava's Man and fell asleep. (When I say a bit, I MEAN a bit.) Sunday—NO NAP FOR YOU! I didn't really try too hard this time—we still had to finish laundry, so it's not like I had settled in and gotten woken up, or had really expected to get one. But the dream still lives. Church services were great, except for my odd habit of nodding off. I don't know what causes that. Fortunately, my five year old learned how to whistle this weekend, and decided to see what this sounded like in church. That'll wake you up. There are several reasons we sit toward the back, and our little one is the majority of them. At least she didn't start singing "Oops, I Did it Again." It was very embarrassing the last time it happened. We are about to turn in now. All of the kids (except wild baby) are already in bed; Mama and I and the Caboose are watching the Oscars. I figure that for this thing, everybody's a critic, so I just don't even try to make a comment—someone else already beat me to it, and said it better than I ever could. I will note that we were finishing up supper when Cameron Diaz came out to present whatever award she was doling out. Every single kid said, "Eww, what's wrong with her hair?! Why didn't she brush it?! Why is she on TV like that?!" As I said, someone beat me to it, and said it better than I could. Anyway, that's all for tonight. I'll see all of you bright and early tomorrow with an exciting new announcement regarding the Axis of Weevil! Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering? Well, I think so, Brain, but I can’t memorize a whole opera in Yiddish. Saturday, March 23, 2002
No Apology Needed!
I woke up this morning and saw all these hits from the Quantrill Raiders and didn't know what to think! My thanks to Christopher Johnson, editor of the Midwest Conservative Journal for the link to Possumblog, and my apologies to YOU for adding absolutely nothing of value to your listings. Except, that is, my well-known stealth capabilities. To all of you from MCJ, the place is a mess, but I wasn't expecting company. Just let me move all that stuff off the couch and let you sit down. Make yourself at home--there's tea in the refrigerator. You have to jiggle the handle on the toilet to make it quit running. Uh, that's pretty much it. Friday, March 22, 2002
Looks like it’s getting to be that time again—the action-packed, thrill-a-minute weekend awaits!
My older sister is up from Mobile for the weekend, so I’ll get to see her a little bit. Which is more than enough. I mean, I love her and all that, but she’s even more peculiar than I am. Think of a cross between the sitcom characters of Diane Chambers from Cheers, Eunice Higgins from The Carol Burnett Show and Carol Weston from Empty Nest; then throw in some gunpowder and broken glass. Incredibly entertaining and scary as hell. Saturday promises to be akin to the crossing of the Rubicon, as my wife and I try to coordinate the logistics of going to two separate soccer games on either side of the county, a concurrent teacher’s meeting at church in yet another part of the county, and visiting my mom, who mercifully lives somewhat close to the area of the second soccer game. Two vehicles, four kids, four venues, a million road-bound morons, and one parent with the brains of a possum. Luckily, I have 50 teeth and a prehensile tail. After an appropriate period of chattiness with Mama’n’em, the Oglesby platoon will re-embark and head back to lovely Trussville, to the calming charms of home and the need to…yep, you guessed it, do laundry and dishes and clean house. I keep trying to figure out how our place gets so messy—we’re NEVER there! Beyond the normal churchin’-up of Sunday, I don’t know if we have anything planned. I sure hope not. I keep this dream in the back of my mind that one Sunday, I’m actually going to be able to actually take one of my murkily-remembered Sunday Afternoon Naps. It’s been a loooooong time since I had a real good, stripped-down-to-skivvies, in the bed, drooling, dreaming, Nap. Think of me as Charlie Brown, my Nap as a football, and Life as Lucy Van Pelt. “Come on, Charlie Brown, you can do it!” “Aaaaarrrgh!” The only difference is that at least Charlie Brown does have a moment where he actually is supine. Yeah, yeah, I know—one day I’ll miss all the hair-pulling, TV-blaring, clarinet-squeaking, Game Boy-bleeping mayhem around home. It’ll be like Burgess Meredith in the Twilight Zone episode where he had all the books in the world to read and his glasses were broken. They’re only young once, carpe diem, all that. I still want my derned nap, though. See you Monday!
With profound thanks to Mac Thomason for his recent spate of "Great Moments in Headline Writing" I give you this beaut from the New Zealand webzine Stuff: Californian couple guilty in grizzly dog mauling case
The couple mauled the grizzly dogs? Shocking. And hey, Greg Hlatky, just what is a "grizzly dog"?
Gun Permits Surge, But Not Violence
From The Detroit News [...] Neva LaRue of North Branch is among the 10 percent of applicants who are women. She drives to Royal Oak each Tuesday to participate in a women's gun group sponsored by the Michigan Coalition For Responsible Gun Owners. "For me, protecting myself is a big issue," said LaRue, who twice was turned down for a CCW permit before the law passed, and has a pending application now. "I've been assaulted twice by the same man. I don't want to get hurt again. I don't want to get dragged out of my car again -- and I don't want to see other women have to go through that, either. So I'm really active in trying to get women involved in defending themselves." Such self-defense has not yet resulted in any kind of wave of new gun violence among those with fresh CCW permits, several law enforcement officials throughout Metro Detroit agreed. "That's really the surprise," said Wayne County Sheriff Robert Ficano. "There are no altercations or incidents I've seen that are at all attributable to the law change. We thought there might be some." Gosh, it's almost as if owning a gun does not necessarily make someone a criminal.
Retrograde Lunacy
Good wrap-up from War Liberal Mac Thomason on the valiantly brave efforts by the Alabama Legislature to stave off attempts by cruel, heartless, special interest groups who have been pushing to allow the voters of the state to decide whether or not to call a state Constitutional convention. The nerve of those voters! Don't they know that the 1901 Constitution was carved in stone by the Almighty hisself and handed down from Cheaha Mountain to the oppressed denizens of this fair state? Do those stupid taxpayers not understand that if they were allowed to change the Holy Writ that they might be saddled with fair taxation, or local control of local legislation, or proper funding for education, or limits to the power of elected officials? Silly, silly citizens. They can't be trusted, you know. Lucky for us that the Most Holy Legislature, by divine right, has put a stop to this, dare I say it, CRIMINAL, attempt by people to vote on something that might take the sugar teat of power from our brave representatives. All this "thinking for ourselves" twaddle will just get us in trouble!
More Grist for the Mill
Namesake of the Order of Morawski, Miss Lee Ann herself, expounds upon the civilizing wonders of Southernosity. It is kind of hard to go wrong with Washington, Jefferson, and Madison. Thursday, March 21, 2002
Mmmmm! Protein!
Thanks to the good folks over at Protein Wisdom for adding Possumblog into their list of bloglinks. Not believing my good fortune, I sent a messenger boy with a thank-you note and received a nice personal response from Mr. Jeff Goldstein who, despite having 89 year old knees, still manages to dance a mean Lindy Hop and give the Phi Mu girls at the U of Denver a thrill.
NOW He Tells Me!
Mark Byron puts forth some thought-provoking hypotheses about the essential role Southerners and Southern culture have played in the advances of civilization in the last century. He posits that the elements of Southern culture such as its martial spirit, religious orthodoxy, political conservatism, and the struggle for equal rights made America a stronger place and contributed to a richer world. Well, one hopes we have earned our keep. I believe the thread that runs through all of these elements is a belief in absolute truth, and a willingness to fight to defend that truth. For the most part, the definition of this truth is the same one found in the Declaration of Independence--"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." For better or worse, we tend to see these words as more than an abstraction. We see them as tangible, as real as ourselves. I don't know if Southerners hold this more dear than any other people. But this definition of truth, and the reverence it is given, is what has led us all--black and white, rich and poor, man and woman--to fight and die. Duty, honor, and service, whether humping a ruck across the desert or facing down Bull Conner in the streets of Birmingham, are real things. In a sophisticated world that values nuances and shades and spin and polite dissembling and plausible deniability, such concrete ideals are chuckled at as hopelessly infantile. Whatever. Just remember it's a lot easier to build on rock than sand.
Connecting the Dots
Adil Farooq at Muslim Pundit once again gets out the sharp stick and rubber gloves. Wednesday, March 20, 2002
He's No Geo. Washington, But He's Real
Elizabeth Spiers notes the latest from the Arab News, quoting James J. David. Her take? Funny how the Arab News conveniently manages to produce an inarticulate idiot with an American name to support whatever absurd allegation they happen to be pushing at a given moment. I'm just waiting for "Mr. George Washington" to write a column on why the U.S. is a failed experiment and should be annexed by the far more capable Saudis. Believe it or not, James J. David is real. He is a contributing writer to Media Monitors Network which was founded and is edited by Muhammad Ali Khan. From the MMN website we find that-- "MMN was established in California, USA, in October 2000 and is destined to become a major platform for serious media contributors and observers from around the globe. MMN is not sponsored by anyone influential and does this intentionally so that we will not be 'forced' into one opinion or another." Gosh, golly, gee! It sounds refreshing, doesn't it?! Of course, you might not want to write a letter to the editor in Hebrew. The opinion MMN's writers have of you was not forced on them; it is one they chose alllll by themselves. By the way, according to this article he wrote in the January 12, 2002 issue of NileMedia, David is retired from the Georgia Army National Guard.
Fun in the County of Oranges
Lileks' Newhouse column of today, in which he acts all inclusive and impartial-- But in today's culture, the people who value "sensitivity" more than sense will flourish and thrive. And it's instructive that it took a public outcry for the Red Cross to admit that they acted like -- well, like neutral impartial universalists. The CEO of the Orange County Red Cross makes $171K a year, and one suspects he will make that much next year, too. One hates to think the Red Cross would use contributions to pay for a bonus to award good spin control. One doubts that would happen. At this point, however, one wouldn't be surprised at all. Shocked! SHOCKED!
As requested by Mark Byron, an essay upon “How the South Saved Civilization”
I don’t know—I mean, we haven’t, yet. See, we think one of the kids must have backed over Civilization while it was chasing a chipmunk across the driveway. We took the poor thing to the veterinarian, but things didn’t look promising. We thought we were going to have to put it down. It’s better now, but still has some recovering to do. It’s not bad looking, except, of course, for the tire marks, and looks like it would be good to have around. It seems real smart, and even hurt it can do some neat stuff. It didn’t have a collar and tag on it, so we have put up flyers all around the neighborhood. So far, nobody has claimed it. We used to have one sort of like it, a long time ago, but it kept biting people and finally one of the neighbors had to shoot it. They gave us one that was related to theirs but it got really big and ate everything in sight, so we sent it back to them and got one of our own. That one has lived a long time—it looked a lot like our neighbor’s, but still had a bad habit of biting. The neighbor didn’t shoot this one, but he didn’t like it either, at least to begin with. Neither did half of our kids. The other kids thought it was great, though, until it started turning on them, too. We tried training it, but it was hard to control then, and hasn’t gotten much better over time. Poor thing has gotten so old now that it just seems confused all the time. So, even though it’s a bit selfish, we’re sort of hoping no one claims the other one we’re keeping now. The two don’t always get along, but they don’t always fight, either. (Lord help if they manage to have a litter.) The vet bills are hurting us, but we felt guilty and it looked so nice, so we keep trying to nurse it along. Things continue to look a little better every day for Civ; pray for us and it, too.
Mark Byron Lays Forth an Assignment
Possumblog, your source for all your high-tech redneck needs (such as the newly introduced Skoll canholder attachment for Palm and the digital roofing hammer), wishes to thank Mr. Byron for the confidence shown in Mr. Curly Tail's ability to produce, on-demand, an essay about "How the South Saved Civilization." Apparently believing that I have a clue, Mark has placed a heavy burden upon my addled gray matter. HOWEVER, knowing that part of The Code is never to shirk from a challenge, I will now sequester myself in my furry nest and start making up a bunch of crap. Lying has a long and honored tradition and serves as a way to elevate the mind without all the hard work of actually educating yourself. To be serious for a moment, it does seem that Mr. Byron has a pretty good handle on the good part of the South where "the small pleasures like good churches, good ribs and pretty girls (not necessarily in that order) are still appreciated." Religion, food, and sex. Take one away, and the rest just don't matter much anymore.
Human Rights Pariah, USA
Dave Koppel's editorial in today's National Review Online, discussing China's view of the United States' record on human rights, developed with help from our good friends on the Left: The Chinese government frets that "The United States is the country with the biggest number of private guns." We are also, of course, the country with the biggest number of private books, private churches, private newspapers, private computers, private single-family homes, and other tools and incidents of freedom. It is no coincidence that America is a simultaneously a well-armed and a prosperous nation, for both traits stem from America's culture of freedom and individualism. [...] The gun-banning Chinese regime unintentionally proves its illegitimacy by distributing Mao's "Little Red Book," which contains Mao's dictum: "Every Communist must grasp the truth, 'Political power grows out of the barrel of a gun.'" (From "Problems of War and Strategy," Nov. 6, 1938.) Neither Mao nor his successors wanted "the common people" to have any political power, and therefore the common people are prevented from possessing arms. If the Chinese people were as well armed as the American people, China would soon have a very different government. As the Declaration of Independence affirms, the only legitimate governments are those whose power derives from the consent of the governed. Because, as China's gun laws demonstrate, China's rulers lack such consent, China's dictators are no more of a legitimate "government" than the hundred marchers in Washington were really a "million" mothers. I'm sure the Chinese will also embrace Comrade Bellisiles for his exposure of the false idea of a national gun culture in the U.S.
Well, you see, son, Santy Claus is magic
Or, Barbecue So Good It's Worth Doing Time For Or, Why We Need Educational Reform Or, Life of Crime Leads to New Life as Chimney Sweep A would-be burglar almost gave new meaning to the Bob Sykes Barbecue slogan of "slow cooked in fine Southern tradition" before Bessemer firefighters extracted him Tuesday from one of the restaurant's vents. Sykes cook Alonzo Scott said he had just gotten to work around 4:30 Tuesday morning when a muffled male voice startled him. Scott said he thought it was a co-worker who had just arrived, yelling from outside to be let in. "I heard the voice again and looked," he said. Scott said he saw a pair of blue and white Reeboks dangling from above the hamburger grill. [...] Scott said he went to the roof and saw the top of the man stuck in the 10-foot-tall, one-foot-wide vent with his hands above his head. The man had climbed onto the roof on maintenance ladders attached to the back of the building. Back inside the restaurant, Scott said, he and a co-worker unsuccessfully tried to extract the man, then called 911. Scott said the man was most agreeable with calling the authorities. [...] "He was a greasy mess," Police Chief Ron Brown said. "It was good that he was stuck where someone could see him before they started cooking." Van Sykes, who owns the popular Bessemer restaurant, said purloining pork had to have been the burglar's motive. "There is no money here," Sykes said. "I don't know why someone would break in other than to take some barbecue." Scott said Dearman had applied for a job at Sykes about six months ago and recently returned to inquire about the job. "I told him to come back in two weeks," Scott said, "and I guess he came back in two weeks." Yep, sure did.
Demagogues find fertile soil in state
Elaine Witt's column in yesterday's evening paper, the Birmingham Post-Herald. (Scroll down to read it--and no, I don't know why they don't separate individual stories) Earlier this month, political scientists Carl Grafton and Anne Permaloff published a commentary on demagogues. The two, who teach at Auburn University at Montgomery, argued that much of the history of the 20th century was shaped by demagogues. Witt attended a meeting at which Grafton discussed his and Permaloff's work, and in particular the role of Alabama as a breeding ground for demagogues such as Alabama Supreme Court Chief Justice Roy Moore-- Demagogues, he said, "seem to prosper in certain settings. I'm not sure what the parameters are, but it seems clear Alabama is an environment where they thrive." The great cases in the state's recent history have been Wallace and Bull Connor, he said, describing Fob James as somewhat "small-bore for that role." Demagogues may be attracted to "crackpot legal theories," he said, noting that in 1956 the Alabama Legislature declared civil rights rulings of the U.S. Supreme Court "were null, void and of no effect" in Alabama. For his part, Moore has inspired a political movement that bases its defense of the Alabama Constitution on the assertion that the document is "godly." To justify his rejection of the U.S. Constitution's ban on state-sponsored religion, Moore has developed a dizzying, highly selective mixture of legal theory, history, theology and biology. According to Grafton, Moore's writings and speeches "suggest he believes in a unified theory that scientific theory and law all derived from religious contemplation," Grafton said. And Grafton does believe that Moore, unlike Wallace, believes every word of the hogwash he is spouting. As Mr. Costanza would say, "It's not a lie if you believe it." Tuesday, March 19, 2002
Due to the mercurial nature of Yahoo and GeoCities, Possumblog has now moved its nest to Blogspot. To everyone who got here from the old GeoCities site, sorry for the trouble.
So now, once more into the breech... New Security Upgrade In what has become a monthly report, I dropped by the Jefferson County Courthouse to pay my sewer bill and see how the post-9/11 security enhancements are proceeding. Upon arriving at the door, I noticed that the security queue has now been relocated to the first set of doors rather than the center. Also, the previous sheet of printer paper with the "No Weapons Allowed" statement has been replaced by a piece of paper with nice little colorfully rendered clip art images of guns and knives and box cutters. I felt so much safer knowing we have access to inkjet technology. "Look, Kamzhin, our plans to disrupt essential county functions such as the issuing of building permits and dog licenses has been foiled." "Yes, Hamad, mighty curses upon the clever infidels--now with the pictures of may colors, we will never be able to infiltrate to the inner reaches of this hateful cave of oppressors!"
Common Sense
John Lott's opinion column from the Hartford Courant in which he takes on the following: Today at state Senate hearings in Connecticut, Democratic gubernatorial candidate and Senate Majority Leader George Jepsen is scheduled to push legislation requiring the Department of Public Safety to annually determine what firearms are suitable for hunting or self-defense and then essentially ban the rest. Fair enough. Would you like for your Department of Public Safety also decide for the types of automobiles we may drive (no Corvettes or Vipers--they exist only to break the speed limit law and suck up precious natural resources), the food we may eat (no fat--fat kills, you know. And don't let us catch you feeding your children stuff with fat in it either!), the activities we do for recreation (sorry, rock climbing, swimming, hang gliding, private aviation, etc, are all dangerous and subject to criminal misuse), and the types of magazines and books we read (Officer--arrest that man! He has a copy of Guns and Ammo!). Yes, it sound pretty stupid. But stupidity has never been an impediment to public office or the implementation of law.
The Washington Post on Guns
Except this is one article I was able to read all the way through without rolling my eyes and muttering dirty words. WaPo's Stephen Hunter on the National Rifle Association's National Firearms Museum in Fairfax, Virginia, in particular a new exhibit "Real Guns of Reel Heroes." Mr. Hunter throws a bone to all of us hog leg lovers: A true Hollywood favorite has been the Colt .45 automatic, beloved companion of GIs in two world wars -- "old slab-sides," someone has called it. Hollywood has fetishized it even more than has its most acrimonious advocate, Jeff Cooper, and in the catalogue I count eight of them -- including Sam Elliott's from "We Were Soldiers," John Travolta's (!) from "Pulp Fiction" and Steve McQueen's from "The Getaway" -- as well as a faux .45. This would be the .45 that William Holden carried in "The Wild Bunch," that encomium to John M. Browning's genius at designing a service pistol. If only all Post stories could be like this...
Fahrenheit 451
From Dr. Weevil, on lefty fun with matches: [...] I'm not totally convinced that the campus Left has forgotten about Nazi book burning. They may prefer to use Nazi methods for the shock value, like the adolescent morons they are. They may have found that burning things provides a bigger thrill than other methods: Butt-Head's even stupider friend Beavis had strong pyromaniacal tendencies. [...] I still remember when I first heard or read Yale deconstructionist Paul de Man's line "the resistance to theory is a resistance to reading". As a hopelessly retrograde atheoretical reader, my immediate reaction was "if I'm the Resistance, what are you, a f***in' Nazi?" Little did I know.
THANKS!
While I was off sick, I had several folks link to the Possumblog who came here via Inappropriate Response. Whenever Miss Moira links to me, I always get a flood of folks, and occasionally some of them even like what they see. First was Susanna Cornett at Cut on the Bias, who made me blush and get all fidgety with her praise of Possum. She relates that she is a Bluegrass girl, but for some unknown crime was sentenced to Newark. She still has her priorities right as a priestess of Adolph Rupp, though, so they haven't beat all the goodness out of her. And she says she makes a pretty mean biscuit. Then, we have Mark Byron, a free-market, dynamist neoconservative Michigander who says Possumblog's "got the high-tech redneck tounge-in-cheek going down." High-tech? Apparently Mark doesn't know I named my son Ned Ludd Oglesby, or that I keep a supply of wooden sabots in the closet. The Axis of Weevil continues to probe it proboscis into the hinterlands, and influenced Mark to post the following joke: "There were two brother boll weevils. One was notorious, eating lots of cotton. The other one didn't do much, and was thus known as the lesser of the two weevils." Thanks, too, for the get well wishes. I still hurt all over, but at least I can type.
Lileks' Bupkis
From this morning's Bleat, a response to Andrew Sullivan's worrisome words: [...] Of course no one in the region wants Saddam deposed, for the obvious reasons - if he goes, the nation might go, fractured like hard toffee rapped with a hammer. If an elected regime replaces Saddam, it will make everyone else look like the autocrats, which of course they are. And it might provide a region-wide example of an alternative to foamy-mouthed religious fanaticism: democracy. The leaders of the Arab world fear this more than fundamentalism. Islamicist irrationalism is useful; democracy is not. Ranting mullahs channel the steam of the dispossessed, and gives it a handy target: those blood-sucking Jews and the whorish cabal of infidels in America. Sure, you may have no job, and live in a stinking flat made of crumbling concrete, but at least your government tolerates a certain amount of useful hate. A Bahrain prince put it succinctly: no one is dying in the streets because of Saddam, but Palestinians are dying in the street because of Israel. The Arab leaders don’t give a rotten fig for the Palestinians. It is rich to be lectured by the Kuwaitis on the matter, when the invasion of their country was endorsed by Arafat, and the Kuwaitis themselves expelled hundreds of thousands of Palestinians upon the liberation of their country. (And where did they go, exactly?) The Arab leaders don’t really care about the Iraqi people, either. They want stability, which means money and power. They want no public indication that self-determination is even a possibility. And it is an unfortunate thing, but Thomas Jefferson was right--"From time to time, the tree of liberty must be watered with the blood of tyrants and patriots." Conflict is not something that gives a free people great joy. But it keeps us free. Monday, March 18, 2002
Plague Alert
Sorry, but no updates today. I am at home, sick, with all four kids, also sick. The stomach virus that got our youngest has now spread like, well, a stomach virus. I got mine yesterday as I was waiting on our middle daughter to get her soccer picture made at the elementary school. I was sitting on the steps and all of a sudden didn't feel too good. I stood up to go to the restroom inside and recreated one of those scenes from a Sylvester and Tweety cartoon where Sylvester gets seasick and hangs over the rail. Poor putty tat, he's all gween! Wouldn't have been so bad except for all the witnesses. After we got home, Little Boy started up and I got worse and worse. My wife took the girls to church, and afterwards went to the store for clear liquids and crackers. I had finally started to get better last night about 10:00 or so, and Boy was much better too. We went to bed and along about 2:00 this morning, our oldest started. Then, about 3:00, middle girl got it. Then about 4:00, youngest one started BACK up. My wife is the only one to not be hit yet, and has fled to work for refuge. So, this is it for me today. See you, hopefully, tomorrow. Saturday, March 16, 2002
FIRST--hello to everyone visiting from Miss Moira's place. The confirmation of my blithering ineptitude she speaks of is found in the entry below from Friday.
And now for something completely different... This is a very rare weekend post. Usually I am bolted to the wall by overwhelming domesticity, but I have some catching up to do on administrative duties related to the burgeoning silliness that is the Axis of Weevil, the railings and fury of those with ties to the 22nd State. I am running on about 2 hours of sleep. I stayed up past midnight last night writing 50 thank-you notes to the Bible teachers at our church. I have to give them out tonight at a teacher's appreciation banquet I have been responsible for planning (Something new this year--a sit down dinner at Johnny Ray's Barbecue!) I had finished them all, answered some late e-mail, and was just about to hit the hay when Baby Daughter woke up at 12:30 a.m. with a terrible case of some stomach problem. She had tedrall streaming out her bottom and was blowing chomskys out the other end. Got that cleaned up and made her a pallet on the floor, then was woken back up around 4:00 when she sprayed more tedrall on the floor as she tried to make it to the fisk. Got THAT cleaned up, then had to get up at 7:00 to get ready to take Middle Girl and Little Boy to soccer practice. Got showered and got them up and dressed, then the bottom dropped out and it started raining buckets. No soccer today. Just then Tiny Girl woke up, ready to go full speed. I went back to bed and got absolutely no sleep, because by then, everyone wanted to play. Thankfully, Reba rounded them up and took them downstairs for breakfast. So, having explained all that, be forewarned; some of the following may have some misspellings or odd syntax. Just use Babelfish, translate it from English to Chinese and back to English, and it should make sense. You want fries with your order? Miss Lee Ann of Spinsters wrote to say she liked the listing of Bamablog requirements. She did think that I had forgotten a few: a) Must have an ungodly hankering to own a hound dog. b) Must prefer biscuit to bagels. c) Must have, at some point in time, donated money to save Vulcan's ass. d) Must have committed, or threatened to commit, violence against someone due to their Alabama/ Auburn allegience. e) And of course, the ultimate test: The Bear. Sir Charles. Discuss. The only problem is that if we add these, I have to kick myself out. I mean, a nice little feist dog would be good, and I'm an Eskimo Spitz man myself. Then there's the biscuits/bagels conundrum. I don't think it can be adequately resolved, in that you wouldn't put Yellow Label syrup on a bagel, nor would you put cream cheese on a biscuit. c) and d) I have covered, but we might have some John McCain supporters who would like to see Vulcan's ass melted down and made into tie rods for an M-Class. Finally, e) I just can't work out in my mind, because it neglects the George Wallace paradox. HOWEVER, I believe these constitute a right nice set of qualifications for the Axis of Weevil's newest award for meritorious Alabamaosity, THE ORDER OF MORAWSKI. Those of the Axis who meet these qualifications may wear upon their uniforms the emblem of the Order, being a pig iron medallion in the form of a cathead biscuit, having upon it the image of Vulcan's glutes and a streamer of either blue-and-orange or crimson-and-white. Of course, our first recipient is Miss Morawski herself--wear it with pride, young lady! Next, our newest member Charles Austin has a heartfelt response to his inclusion as a member of the Alablogger Gang on his blogsite, in which he notes with pride his stellar fulfillment of all the requirements. He seems a bit worried about his status due to being a minivan owner, but he uses it just as he would a pickup, and seems to enjoy the prospect of pissing off Saint Louis soccer moms by hanging his A-Bolt in the window, so no worries. (For the record, the Possumblog clan has a 1994 Plymouth Grand Voyager Sport Wagon, a 1994 Olds 88 Royale, and the beloved Franklin, a tired but proud '82 Ford F-100--previously the subject of his very own blog entry ). Mr. Austin also relates that his mean, intolerant wife won't let him keep the co-eds. I tried to plead that they are quite useful for organizing Junior League rummage sales and for going to the mall to help her shop for shoes, all to no avail. Oh, well. We'll put them back on the shelf, but they were so looking forward to the exotic joys of grocery shopping at Schnuck's and getting a nice ice-cream headache from a concrete. So then ends this installment of the Possumblog--see you all Monday, if I survive the weekend's festivities. Friday, March 15, 2002
Happy for Men; or, I Am a Pathetic, Whipped, Knuckle-Dragger
I had a meeting today after lunch (which was Arby's chicken fingers eaten in the car while reading the morning paper) with a nice young doctor guy wanting to build an office over in the eastern part of town. I had signed out until 3:00, not knowing exactly when I would be back. Luckily, I had a few minutes extra, so I decided to run by the Parisian store downtown on the way back to work so I could pay an installment on our credit card bill. Parisian is a better line department store which used to be run by a local Birmingham family. It was purchased a few years back and is now part of the Saks, Inc. family. One of the nice things about it was (and still is, for that matter), the good customer service. They have a six month same-as-cash credit system, which is great. And, a handy part of that is that you can go to any cashier in any department if you want to pay your bill in person. Thus begins my downfall. Some of you may not have ever figured this out, but I really like women of the female persuasion. So, whenever I go into Parisian to pay a bill, I like to head for a cashier at a cosmetic counter. Today was no different; I walked in and found the petite blonde Miss Lucinda at the Clinique counter. I gave her my bill and $60 in cash and expected to get $4 in change. As she was ringing it up at the register behind her, I noticed she had been studying some sort of Clinique propaganda manual. The portion she had dog-eared dealt with learning how to show customers the merchandise and getting them to try it. She had all kinds of notes written in it, but I tried not to snoop too much--I didn't want to violate the doctor-patient relationship. She turned back around and gave me my receipt and with the nicest smile asked me if I would be willing to help her with something for about five minutes. "Well, I will after you give me my change--see, the bill was for $56, and I gave you $60." Good grief look at those big blue eyes. "Oh, I am SO sorry--I rang it up for whole thing!" Start...melting...into...puddle...of...blubber... "Here, let me fix that!" Man, her teeth are white--they match her lab coat. "Aww, no, that's okay--it's fine. It's just four more dollars on the account and means we'll pay it off that much sooner." "Well, alright--do you think you could still help me? I need to demonstrate products for this Clinique school I have to go to." "Uh, okay." Complete and utter defeat, in the span of about a minute and a half. "WONderful! Thank you so MUCH!" She started putzing around looking for men products--"Do you use any skin care products?" Good grief woman, look at me! I am a manly, macho, testosterone-pumping MAN. What ARE you THINKING? "Uh, well, not really much. You know, just, you know, if my hands get chapped, or you know, when I shave." "Well, we have this product called Happy for Men that you might like." She sprayed a bit of the cologne on a piece of paper, "My husband used to not like stuff like this, but he does now that I bring it home to him." Look in a dadgummed mirror, sister--THAT'S why he likes it! If you made him crawl through the broken shards of gas station toilets to get into the house, he would tell you he liked that, too! She gave me the card and I took a tentative sniff and was nearly overcome by the fresh, fruity fragrance of orange industrial cleaner. "Ooh, that's a little bit stronger than I like--it smells a bit, well, it's not...I don't really..." Her hair was pulled back behind her ears and little wisps fell down across her forehead. "You don't like it? Well maybe the after shave balm." Oh, no, I hurt her feelings! "I'm sorry, it's just not really pleasant smelling to me; maybe something else. What else could I try?" I smiled a big goofy grin, and noticed that it sure did seem hot in the store--why was I so hot? "We do have just the regular Clinique for Men items, too. Let's try the aloe shave gel." She squirted a dollop of icky goo on my fingertip--luckily, it had no bad odor, but just felt yucky. "Your wife can also use it for shaving her legs--I've used it for that and it's very nice." GREAT PRAYING MOSES why is it so HOT in here!? "If you like that, we also have an after shave balm." I wiped the gel off and she applied a ribbon of pasty pale lotion on my finger. "It has just a bit of fragrance." Again I warily sniffed it. Very nice--it smelled faintly of model airplane dope and a refinery. "Whew, well, it's not...I mean, it just has a bit too much fragrance for me...I'm just an Ivory soap guy." "Oh, that's alright, everyone has different likes." She gave me another tissue to wipe my hands with. Each of her fingernails was perfectly shaped and painted a deep, rich red. I dropped my tissue on the floor, twice. Idiot. "You were SO sweet to help me out!" "That's alright, I'm just sorry I didn't like this stuff any better." Good grief, what a moron I am. "It's fine, don't worry about it at all, it's just practice for me. Just let me finish up here. Your name is?" "Terry Oglesby." She looked up quizzically, "Oglesby? Do you know a [insert unrememberable name here] Oglesby in Hartselle?" Look at those eyes. By now I was just a towering, talking Jello mold. "Uh, no, I don't think so..." No--OF COURSE NOT! Just say no, you big buffoon. "But we're probably related somewhere down the line. It's not a very common name." "T-e-r-r...i or y?" "Y." "Y. O-g-e-l...?" "O-g-L-E-s-b-y." "O-g-e-l-s-p-y." Close enough. I'll be glad to change it. She continued to write her information down, "Demonstrated Happy for Men Cologne, Aloe Shave Gel, After Shave Balm. Did not care for fragrance of Happy, After Shave. May come back for Aloe Gel." May come back? "Thank you, Mister Oglesby!" "ThanYou're ok...welcome, hope your class goes well." For what it's worth, I am even worse than this around my wife. Governor's stockbroker gets profits from state contracts From Eddie Curran of the Mobile Register: Birmingham-based Sterne Agee Asset Management pays Gov. Don Siegelman's personal stockbroker a third of its fees for managing a state insurance fund's investments, and 40 percent of what it earns by overseeing investments of a small sub-agency called the Alabama Research Institute, state records show. Contracts and state documents that include required disclosures by Sterne Agee describe the 34-year-old Trava Williams variously as a solicitor of business, a consultan[t/]lobbyist and a relationships manager hired by the firm. None of the records show that Williams was to participate in investment decisions, or be involved in managing state funds. Although retained by the firm, he was not, and is not, an employee of the firm. [...] Sterne Agee has been in the news since recent reports that it hired Williams to help it win a contract to manage a portion of the $1 billion Alabama Trust Fund, and to help it capture a similar contract for a far smaller fund held by the Alabama Crime Victims Compensation Commission. The Trust Fund is a repository for state natural gas royalties. Members of the Police Officers Annuity Fund have also said they felt pressured by the administration to use Williams and Sterne Agee. Records show that, despite repeated requests, Siegelman did not sign contracts with the fund's longtime managers. But members of the fund refused to change their contracts. The Birmingham News has reported that a firm Williams co-owns, AFS Equities Inc., handles the personal investments of Siegelman and former Siegelman chief-of-staff Paul Hamrick. The firm has for years invested Siegelman's multimillion-dollar campaign funds, state elections records show. AFS has made money for the governor's campaign -- including $261,138 in 1999 and $217,252 in 2000, election records show. I'm certain it's all very innocent. Ignore the smell.
Axis of Weevil Growing--Soon We'll Have Our Own Currency and Inneffectual Military Establishment
Mac Thomason, War Liberal, forwarded me yet another candidate for inclusion in the Dixie Blog League, the Sine Qua Non Pundit Charles Austin. Mac relates that Mr. Austin sojourned in our fair state for a few years way back in the 1990s, although he is now stationed in Saint Louis, Em Oh. (Not Tennessee, as I had earlier thought--which means much excitement for Austin.) I contacted Charles last night and asked if he would consider being associated with us Cotton Staters and he agreed. I am still anxiously awaiting the details of his time spent here, but in the meantime, we will be sending Charles his Axis of Weevil Gift Pack of Dreamland ribs; Jim Dandy grits; a gallon jug of Milo's sweet tea; a gun rack from Mark's Outdoor Sports for his pickup; a package of Bubba's Beef Jerky (according to Dr. Weevil, this is homemade and is available only at the gas station at the end of Highway 82 in Bibb County); and a coupon for free underpinning for his trailer. One gift we usually include for people outside the South is a package of four comely, busty co-eds who shave their legs and wear makeup--this was a special addition for Dr. Weevil who lives in Maine where such things are not common. UPDATE: I originally reported that The Sine Qua Non Pundit was still in the South, and that he may choose to decline this portion of the package to allow it to be sent to a more needy member of the diaspora. HOWEVER now that I have been corrected by the man from the Show Me State, I know his severe plight and will send them that way immediately. Returning now to the original text of this post, we understand that the inclusion of this item may lead to some consternation among our potential female members: we ask you not to worry--you may substitute a four-pack taken from any men's college gymnastics team in the state. (Sorry, due to state law, we are unable to provide mixed-sex packages, or packages the same sex as the recipient.) Some of you may be wondering what it takes to become members of this illustrious crew. The primary qualifications are these: 1) Born in, or now live in, or once lived in, or would like to live in, Alabama; 2) Not ashamed to admit to #1; 3) Staunchly anti-idiotarian, or can at least pretend pretty good 4) Functionally literate 5) Don't type in ALL CAPS or all e.e. cummings case or MiXeD. 6) Update your blog more than once a month 7) Willing to be made fun of 8) Willing to make fun of yourself 9) Have a framed picture of John Moses Browning 10) Personal library must contain more books than you will ever read 11) Must be able to recite Monty Python and the Holy Grail and give an episode synopsis of all Andy Griffith shows from memory 12) Your pickup truck must be in good working order--use of ether to get it started is not recommended, but will be allowed on a case-by-case basis That's about it. However, like Calvinball, the rules may change in the middle of the game. Think you got what it takes? Send me a note.
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