Truth be told, I'm tired.

I'm weary of the whole political thing. Republicans are precisely as trustable as Democrats. I reminded myself of a minor truth over at PL's, and I'm smarting. There is no real point in fulminating over Washington and the antics therein. As the Israelites realised at the ascension of Rehoboam, "There is no help in the house of Jesse.". I have no expectations from this or any other administration, and have no real desire to waste time with droll name-calling. We are cast adrift from the moorings of the Republic, and are at the mercy of the gales of opinion and expediency. Until someone shows evidence of earnestly and honestly moving us to the United States designed by the founders, no-one has my support.

The people have spoken repeatedly to their representatives on issues from abortion to taxation, to The Bailout, and those representatives have "bravely" gone against our instructions. So what's the point? No railing, no name-calling, no interest. I've got other stuff to write about. Pray for our leaders.

House Republican Leader John Boehner said he and his colleagues told Obama they feel the stimulus package is too expensive and too slow. He said Republicans told Obama of their own plans to "get fast-acting tax relief in the hands of American families and small businesses, because at the end of the day, government can't solve this problem."
Major Garrett - FOXNews

President Obama's response (of which I cannot find the quote online) was that the Repub tactic was off the table, "Because I won".

That's called bipartisanship. Wait...

That's called hubris. And snotty.

I am so excited to see it all coming to pass so soon.

Another thing that PObama (which is of course short for President Obama) is flogging is what he terms "our crumbling infrastructure". The ability to use a term to establish an untruth as truth is a leftist super power. Are there bad roads? Yes; drive I-40 across Louisiana. Are there bridges in need of repair? Certainly, but the MN I-35 bridge collapse a year ago was due to a design flaw, not the mere predations of time itself. Our national physical plant needs repair, and toning up; it cannot be accurately termed as "crumbling". It is a polemical term used to strike fear into the rubes, and the average PObama voter; an exaggeration, a prevarication. A lie.

And now, we can sleep well knowing that international aid organizations will be getting a bailout to help them provide abortions. YOUR tax dollars at work.

Where does conscience enter in?

New

'Varkey

goodness

Bush Commutes Sentences for Two Former Border Patrol Agents

I am no fan of the outgoing President, but I HAVE to say that this is the singlemost decent thing George W. Bush has done in eight years. I rejoice with Ramos and Compean and their families.

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Here is some of what Vidad missed at Anime South this year.

Makes me wanna say "GO TEAM VENTURE!"

More Judas Pig Creepiness!

The Judas Pig is my term for the porcine BBQ mascots who invite you in to enjoy their brethren. Here is a husband and wife - or brother and sister - team. Hook's BBQ is on Hwy. 331 in Opp, AL.

Best butts in town!

R.I.P. Mr. McGoohan

Patrick McGoohan, of Dr. Syn fame, of Secret Agent Man and The Prisoner fame, friend and star with Peter Falk, and an amazing Edward Longshanks, has escaped this Village today.

Mr. McGoohan refused the original role of James Bond, because of the character's loose morals. This set an impressive tone for his future work. His ultimate role as Number Six in The Prisoner placed a high bar for television drama that has yet to be surpassed.

Patrick McGoohan was a mere eighty years of age. God bless him.

Be seeing you.

The best comment on this at YouTube is:

Marvin moves his feet so fast and he isn't even go fast!

 

 All photos (c) Weatherly Hardy

Behold Princess Anastasia!

Back in 1976, I believe, a trio of vagabonds were booked in to give a presentation at St. Andrew's Presbyterian College in Laurinburg, NC. They were quite late to their gig, but finally arrived, rather the worse for their frigid trip. They had been in a minor ice-related auto accident, and the old lady had a small cut, as I recall. Their program alleged that she was, in fact, the Missing Romanov, Anastasia. The skeletal gentleman top right was a count, I believe (actually a baron, per the comments), and served to lend verisimilitude to the claims. The more portly gent was a lawyer who was married to the old lady, and spent his time with them taking their dog-and-pony show to different venues, presenting their claims to people who could make no difference whatever to them, for a fee; chautauqua at its finest.



I remember little of the information shared, much of which was scrawled on well-used flip charts. I do remember the lady, edentulous, swathed in mismatched polyester, such as would make any baglady strut.The men wore suits. She wore our pity. I have no idea as to the veracity of their claims. I DO know that I would have been hard-pressed to buy a used car from himself the lawyer.



The pictures are mine, taken with a Miranda 35mm back during my love affair with Tri-X. Can you count the grain? If anyone happens upon this blog entry, and knows of these people, or saw the presentation at St. Andrews, please comment here. I would welcome perhaps a less jaundiced view, though ANY memories would be appreciated.

Athens has arriven. They now have a Publix supermarket, and Loen and I went to check it out. It's very clean, very nice, very pricy. We walked the aisles, looking for goodies for our Friday night feed with Gamegod and Grrltechie. Mozz, tomato sauce, like that. We also picked up jelly babies and crumpets, as Loen developed a taste for the goodies in Scotland.

Publix ia a great store. It is also a status store, a place for the upper middle-class to escape the Great Unwashed of Wal-Mart, and is reminiscent of Jack Paar's reportage of the children of movie stars riding through 1950s Beverly Hills in summer with their car windows closed so everyone would think that they had air conditioning. Store brands are pricier than they need to be, and premium brands are breathtaking. The produce and meat sections are amazing, and it is the place to buy sea kittens. It also has the vibe of being the place to shop if you are looking for an affair. Cougars are a-prowl.

Our shopping completed, we checked out, and were asked if we wished to contribute to the Special Olympics or somesuch. I demurred, as I prefer my benevolences be done at places other than the grocer's. Loen asked loudly "Why not?", because he delights in attempting to embarrass his old man. I replied "Because I am a heartless so-and-so.".
The checkout guy, who appeared close to my age, seemed amused. The bag boy Z** took our cart to the Aardvan, and Loen inquired "How do you like working here?", because it has been open less than a month, and because he is keen on working there. Zeb replied "It's a job." with the air of a thirty-five-year-old who has been a bag boy for twelve years. Zeb then asked if we "had been busy", which made me think that he knew us. "Yes" was my reply, "and I hope it remains so!". Zeb asked incredulously "Why would you want it to stay busy?", as though he were really asking "Why would you want to have root canal every day?".

I paused and said, perhaps louder than was meet "Because that's where the money comes from!". As Loen and I drove off, I really started getting angry at the utter foolishness of the question, and the necessity of my having to answer at all. It was laughing anger, but anger nonetheless.

I may shop occasionally for Brit foods and such, but Publix will see little of me, and few of my monies. The cost is too high, and so are the prices.

Barry-o, you are not the President yet.

Sit down, and shut up.

From my comments over at Cunning Dove's blog, responding to her kvetching about Cialis and Viagra ads.

What is up with the cast-iron bathtubs in the Cialis ads? Lugging those out to The Romantic Spot on the dock would wear me out, so all I would be ready for is a nap, little pill nonwithstanding.

Nothing says Romance like lying in twin footed tubs holding hands. (That's apparently all you can hold.)

The utmost in dumb is the session musicians jammin' in the studio and breaking out in (lusty) praise of Viagra. Together. Seems to me that Viagra is the pharma equivalent to the bad-old-days of getting Food Stamps. You sneaked around, and if a friend was in the checkout line, you waited 'til they left to check out yourself. You didn't want people to know.
So, of course these musicians are gonna have their jolly old time belting out "Viva, Viagra!".Lustily.

What gets me is the spam that I receive (you get it, too, so stop smirking) that assumes that price negates my higher brain function, such that I will be fooled into purchasing "Vigara". It IS, after all, blue.

A Force to be Reckoned With!

Here is the collaboration between your humble Aardvark and the Goodman. Vidad was nowhere in evidence.

Enjoy, and if you need audio work done, holler.

From the He-Man She-Ra Christmas Special

How exactly does bone smile? Seems that the pain would cancel out the jollity.

Maybe Skeletor could lead us all in a round of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlefools".

That would be more Christmas-ey than Rudolph, Tiny Tim, and the "jinglehorse" from that song frapped in a blender. I'd add rum, and top it with whipped cream and fresh nutmeg.

"Skeletor" is (c) Filmation

Any questions?

Aardvark (sarcastically) " Oh, I know. Doing things for other people makes you happy...."

Riatsila: "No, making people OWE me makes me happy."

Tree by Denise Vakili, Carlsbad, California

http://www.denisevakili.blogspot.com

Mr. Quinn's Christmas Vision

Lawyer Terry Quinn holds forth about the $500,000 price tag on a parking place near the slopes in tony Vail Colorado:

Headline: Prime Vail parking space available for $500,000

This is like those Detroit big shots who came to D.C. recently, each in his own private jet, to ask for handouts. Or AIG, whose execs sojourned at a pricey spa while it was getting assigned a space at the federal trough.

There are wealthy people who are clueless — or indifferent — about the effect their extravagance has on others less fortunate.

It’s amazing how anyone could pay that kind of money for a parking space, so he doesn’t have to walk so far to get to the slopes. I presume it’s a super-size space, so a Hummer or stretch limo can fit in it.

Terry Quinn
Eagle

This rich guy is selling his own parking space at Vail. If the market will bear it, may he get his price. Mr. Quinn, Esq. is angered that anyone should enjoy such opulence where he can hear about it. Neal Boortz interviewed him today, and Quinn repeatedly grumped about the rich "flaunting" their wealth before those "less fortunate". Please correct me if you need, but it seems to me that merely having summat that another does not is not "flaunting". Were I to have a 24k gold Hummer, autographed by Arnold Schwarzenegger in platinum ink, with ruby and diamond appointed spinners, and were I to do wheelies in front of self-confessed middle-class Quinn's home as he shovels his walk, I believe that could qualify as "flaunting".

I think that I would quite enjoy it.

Mr Quinn is quite a font of error. The Big Auto guys were in corporate jets, NOT private. They are part of their contract. The hourly cost of these bigwigs is enormous, and one of the CEOs driving to DC would equal an enormous chunk of Mr. Quinn's middle-class yearly income. I do join his outrage at the AIG spa junket. He reveals his heart in this statement:

There are wealthy people who are clueless — or indifferent — about the effect their extravagance has on others less fortunate.

Well, clearly their extravagance is affecting Mr. Quinn in driving him toward extensive therapy, but for those of us a tad less quirky, it has little effect, except perhaps for those who manufacture the goods, and repair the goods, and sell the goods, and maintain the goods that the wealthy enjoy so ostentatiously. The money The Rich spend spreads across the economy, like so much Beluga caviar on toast points. The more slathered on the economy, the better.

Mr. Quinn, speaking with Boortz, expressed his solution clearly: you should not buy something that another cannot afford, which thought fills me with rage. I mean, I shop at Wal-Mart, which is grossly unfair to me, especially as there are many who shop at Target, and Macy's. But what about those privileged schlubs, forced to shop Tar-ZHAY when those across town habitually shop Nieman-Marcus? Thus we are led to Terry Quinn's Christmas Vision, a world where everyone shops at the Dollar Store. EVERYONE can afford that, yes?

The left loves to parade Homelessness and Hunger before our eyes at this merry time, not so much to encourage Charity, but to spread guilt and misery, those most Liberal of commodities. THEY cannot shop the Dollar Store, nor even the Thrift Shop, and those who can should not flaunt their extravagance before the eyes of the indigent.Clearly Terry Quinn's vision of equity must bring us to this point: a shoeless, soapless, jobless society where there is no-one above us to hire us, mentor us, give us something to shoot for, because some imbecile in kindergarten decided to teach Terry Quinn the concept of "fair".

Merry Christmas to all, and a squalid good night.

Let me say it, since apparently few recognise the facts:

There IS NO Office of the President-elect

Barack Hussein Obama IS NOT the President-elect. The electoral college has neither met nor voted. The "popular vote" is meaningless.

Obama's little blue sign on his lectern reminds me of nothing more than an eight-year-old coming up with a little club with his friends. The He-man Republic-haters Club.

His "President-elect'" self-promotion reminds me of the preachers who put a picture of themselves on billboards advertising their churches.