Life0419
theinternetisnotalwayswarmandfuzzy
Sometimes it just doesn't pay to scroll down the screen.
Today is the kind of day that makes springtime in Atlanta a gift. Just warm enough to be pleasant, azaleas and dogwoods rampant, the oppressive heat of summer is just a few weeks away.
Lunchtime is waiting when I get back to the shop. I have a bit of salsa in the bottom of a jar. Mixing a bit of water in the salsa, I pour the combination over the ramen noodles before microwave insertion. One should innovate at least once a day.
Coming inside, I look at Kikoshouse
He is not afraid to tell an unflattering story about himself.
The story is about including a reference to a large local muslim population into a story about the Oklahoma City bombing, which was 12 years ago today. In the aftermath of that tragedy, there was much speculation about terrorism, and what we should do to the country responsible. Of course, the country responsible for that was the United States.
And so, I read that story, and the quotes from the blogosphere, and continue to recklessly scroll downward, Then...
Kitty Carlisle Hart 1910-2007. Born Catherine Conn, September 3 1910, in New Orleans, LA.
I was at a sparsely attended pot luck supper a few months ago, where some of the eaters discussed going to an appearance by Ms. Hart. I innocently said " Is she still alive?", and was gently reminded that she was making a local appearance soon.
I am of that "certain age" that remembers "Whats My Line". Of course, It was a big deal for me to stay up until 10:30, when the show was over.
The green room of that show must have been something. Ms. Hart (then known as Kitty Carlisle),was married to a famous Playwright and was a presence in her own right. Bennett Cerf was a publisher, and author of humorous books. Dorothy Kilgallen was a piece of work...and that is all I am going to say. ( Somewhere in the afterlife, Frank Sinatra is sucking on her chin).
Last week it was Kurt Vonnegut. This week Kitty Carlisle Hart. I may have to quit reading Kikoshouse
synchronicityisnotacoincidence
There is a certain synchronicity here, with the Oklahoma City bombing and the Virginia Tech shooting. I really don’t have much to add to the current onslaught of punditry and message mongering. I do find it ironic that we get so bent out of shape about 32 wasted students, while hundreds die everyday in Babylon. And we scarcely notice, let alone consider our responsibility.
And lets not forget, American Idol was SAVED.
My favorite radio whiner, "squeal", has been in rare form this week. Meaning, it is not well done, and is performed on a medium.
(or msm. Much as he hates it, he is employed by Cox Enterprises, which is mainstream) I will spare you his blithering, but he did mention a piece by Mark Steyn. Mr. Steyn is a writer, with a wretched limey accent, who is making the rounds of the talk shows. I suppose he has a book to promote. Today, there is a piece somewhere about "The culture of.... darn short term memory loss. It was something about people not defending themselves, about giving in to authority too easily, or something. When I am home tonight I will look for details. As efficient as the internet is, I may even find a link.
At any rate, the gist of this is that americans don’t defend themselves, but allow themselves to be victimized.
Now, when the president starts touting questionable information about the next hitler having wmds’, and railroads us into a self destructive war that we cannot win, what do the people ...and press... of this country do. To our shame and regret, enough of them said, "go for it" to find us neck deep in a Babylonian quagmire.
I suspect this is not what Mr. accent meant by this, but it is how I read it.
Also, regarding the synchronicity of Oklahoma City and "squeal". In the backwash of the OKC bombing, I saw "squeal" host a call in show (on CNN!) regarding the tragedy. He made the statement that you should never believe anything he said, but that he is just trying to make you think. I saw a smirk on his face when he said that, which told me that he had very little respect for his audience.
Afterworkpostscriptongooddeeds
I will spare you the details of the rest of my day. The high point was being harassed by my supervisor for going to the restroom between runs in rush hour traffic. At one point, I did not go over 5 mph for three miles.
So I get home, and try to tie up a few loose ends about what I wrote earlier.
To start, Mark Steyn is apparently Canadian, though he does sound British.
The article he posted this morning was "A culture of Passivity".
Yes, passivity, the word I couldn't remember earlier. And yes, that is a great word for our nation, and those in it who replied to Mr. Bush's call to battle in Babylon, all while turning off any critical thought. Yes, passivity.
While I was looking for Mr. Steyn's comments, I found this:
More cruelty from right-wing crackpots
Nothing like blaming the victims.
The difference between liberals and conservatives, Chapter 973: While liberal Salon readers were debating the decorum of criticizing the president on a national day of mourning over the Virginia Tech massacre, conservative bomb throwers wasted no time criticizing ... the victims.
The rest of the piece is worth reading.
Yea, there is a lot of "what I would have done" chatter going on now. It is worthless. You don't know how you would react until you have to make a choice. This is going to be a future post, I really mean that.
And finally, while looking at national review online for the "passivity" post, I found an obituary for Pat Buckley. She was the wife of William F. Buckley and the mother of Christopher Buckley. She was a fixture in New York Society, a noted wearer of the latest fashions, and admired by many who had much less regard for her husband.
Spell check for this feature:
Conn...coon, con, cnn, cone, connie, coin, conk, coo
whats..whets, whites, what's, whams, whaps, what
Bennet...bennett, bent
msm...ms., mom, mum, M&M, ism
hitler...hitter, hither, hitless, whittler, hatless, halter, whiter, whither, whittier, hilt
Labels: kitty carlisle hart, mark steyn, pat buckley
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