Monthly Archives: August 2011

It’s true that climate change hysteria causes people to go mental, but not in the way this author is asserting. I find the crazy anthropogenic climate change crowd annoying, but entertaining. What I can’t abide, however, is their habit of foisting their insanity and paranoia on innocent children. Kids are terrified that we are all gonna die if we don’t recycle and buy expensive hybrids and that’s really not fair. I understand — indoctrination is very important when you don’t have the facts to back your theories up, but these poor kids are freaking out.

As for AGW itself — it looks like the debate is far from settled.

Now, as many as we are, spread across the globe and using disposable diapers and all that, the sun — glorious orb of radiation pulled by the chariot of Apollo across the brilliant sky — is much more powerful and magnificent than the puny humans that hide from it under umbrellas and SPF 1000. Think about it this way: the sun makes it possible for us to live and would continue if we disappeared. Which of us has more influence of the earth’s climate?

How can you not love this?

After flirting with Herman Cain, whom I like very much, I’ve decided that I am going with Gov. Perry. I still don’t know everything about the man, but I like him, I like what he’s done in Texas, and, barring any love children or — worse — compassionate conservatism, he’s my guy. I’m just jumping in with both feet.

Which is how I do pretty much everything.

The next time you hear some idiot bemoaning the state of the free press in America, (which I’ve noticed doesn’t happen as often now that Bu$hitler has been overthrown by Hopenchange), point them to this article. For your peace of mind, there is corroboration that this cartoonist is actually Syrian, male and a cartoonist, and not some 40 year old ex-pat American university student proudly displaying his manly muffin top in ill-fitting skinny jeans.

I guess “60 year old male political cartoonist” is not as sexy as “young lesbian blogger.”

All kidding aside, this is a terrible story. Poor man. The next time you hear someone say that dissent is the highest form of patriotism, gently remind them that in some countries, dissent is paid for in flesh, blood, and broken bones.

And that’s just a warning.

Ron Paul is right about quite a bit, but I am frustrated that he is so wrong on foreign policy and national security. I know I invite the wrath of his acolytes by saying so, but I’ve made my peace. I appreciate his uncompromising nature immensely, but wish he was less of an isolationist. Isolationism is dangerous.

As for Paul’s warning in this video that Europe’s yob mobs being a sign of things to come — yawn. Been there, read that in Mark Steyn’s first book.

Tee hee.

The internet is awesome.

Dogs are the most amazing creatures. They love you unconditionally. Disregarding the self-preservation instinct, they will follow you to the gates of Hades and beyond. They define devotion. They are loyalty itself. My three dogs are incredibly important to me, especially Jack, who has become inseparable from my daughter and me. My iguana, not so much.

This is the picture of sorrow. It is the picture of heartbreak and devotion.

When my oldest daughter passed away, my first pitbull, Molly, waited and waited for her to come home. After about a week and a half (Mila’s hospital visits used to span two weeks or more), Molly curled up into a ball, refused to eat, and lay down by the door to Mila’s room. Mila was her favorite person in the entire world, and she missed her buddy. For weeks, Molly mourned in her own canine way. Eventually things returned to normal, but only when I brought my youngest daughter home from the hospital did Molly return to her usual self. I’ve never seen a dog so excited to see a newborn as Molly was that day.

Dogs love us, regardless of our faults. And we need to remember to love them in the same way, even when they chew our shoes, eat food off the unattended counter, or get into the trash. They love us with a particular purity that is unmatched and unwarranted. Hawkeye loved his master. And his master was one of the rough men ready to do violence on our behalf. Thank God for both of them.

It was pretty funny, kids. A 5.8? Please. Dennis Miller’s comments sum up what most of us out here are thinking. Judging by the coverage yesterday, you’d think this was the first earthquake in the long history of mankind. It was cute.

That said, I’m glad no one was seriously hurt. I’m sure you’ll keep us updated on every tiny aftershock. Can’t wait.

I have a bone to pick with the parents who protested Murakami’s tome being included in the summer reading list: Norwegian Wood is not a “lesbian sex book.” It’s a boring, self-absorbed fictionalized account of the author’s amazingly awesome experiences during the Best Time Ever, the Sexual Revolution that happens to have lesbian sex in it. At least that’s what I came away with when I read it ages ago. I love Murakami, but getting through Wood was like chewing glass. I get it, I get it–the ’60′s were the bestest time ever in the history of the world and you are that much more fabulous for having lived through it. Yay.

“They read the books,” he said. “They didn’t feel it was inappropriate based on the language that’s used, common language used on the street.” The superintendent said students have seen more graphic things on television or in the movies – and noted that only about a dozen people actually complained.

Okay, so let me get this straight: It’s okay to assign books that include graphic depictions of orgies, sexual abuse (what else would you call sex between a 31 year old and a 13 year old?), and the glorification of meth because the teachers think the language has street cred or that kids see worse things on tv? That is pretty faulty logic. Must suck to be that stupid.

So kids are exposed to worse on Glee, so what? The schools have got to pile on and attempt to remain as “relevant” as possible? I had to read james Joyce, Jonathan Swift, Graham Greene and Hamlet over my summer breaks, (well, reread anyway). Murakami and meth memoirs really don’t hold a candle to that, do they?

I first read Eliot in my first semester of senior English. My teacher had a list of “words” we weren’t allowed to use in our essays, (i.e., “alot,” “really,” &etc.). I’d suggest that next year’s reading list include Elizabeth Kantor’s The Politically Incorrect Guide to English and American Literature, so all these poor, undereducated kids can catch up. Without having Greene, Shakepeare, Eliot and Swift in your intellectual arsenal, you’re screwed, kids. (A mind uncluttered by the incoherent ramblings of Joyce is a happy one, however.)

Just sayin’.

Don’t get me wrong, I like Sarah Palin and think she has been beaten up quite unfairly by a cruelly sexist press, but I don’t like the strategy she’s employing right now. Either you’re in or you’re out — stop playing around. Her actions appear to validate some of the media’s criticisms — that she’s only fame-hungry, that she’s substance-free — and it is kind of embarrassing for those of us who’ve defended her.

Come back with style and substance, not as the queen of the upstagers. (Which was coincidentally my high school drama persona.)

If I hear one more person blather on about the “responsibility” of having no more than one child, I might punch someone. It’s sick, this American tendency toward civilizational suicide. Our upper classes are gleefully embracing their own demise. A good friend of mine has four children and has been subjected to unbelievably cruel and personal attacks on their family’s size. She’s got four ridiculously cute kids, but apparently that’s beside the point. Kids are a “burden” on the earth and its resources.

You know what? The earth has been around for a long time and I think it can handle a few billion people running around on its crust. Each one of my friend’s kids is a gift to humanity. Who knows? Maybe Micah will cure cancer. Maybe Lydia will become our first female president. Perhaps Josiah will become an amazing father like his own, raising his own kids to become productive members of society. Perhaps Noah will write the Great American Novel. All of these pursuits are worthy and will better our species. But none of it could happen if my friend and her husband were bound by the invisible bonds of the overpopulation myth and its attendant pathologies.

Children — every single one of them — are gifts. As we slide down the slippery slope toward the complete devaluation of human life, we are also losing our humanity. When we start to look at children as nothing more resource devourers, we’re definitely close to a tipping point. One of the phrases I’d like to retire permanently is “unwanted children.” No child is unwanted. There are thousands of couples out there desperate to have a family, waiting patiently for a child to adopt. My own parents waited seven years for me. If my teenage mother had chosen to abort her “unwanted child,” as I’m sure she was advised to do, you wouldn’t have the awesomeness that is before you today.

We’re a sick, diseased culture, and we’ve chosen to embrace that sickness, wearing it like a badge of honor. And thus, we are seeing more and more stories like this.

I am bombarded with the supposed socialist gospel of Jesus Christ on a regular basis. It’s annoying, and it’s beguiling, especially when those preaching it are nominal theologians who have spent much longer studying the Bible than I. There is a sort of comforting numbness akin to the last stages of hypothermia in the acceptance of Jesus as the First Socialist. One does grow tired of bucking the “common knowledge” of one’s betters…

This piece by David French and Jordan Sekulow is a breath of fresh air, addressing a specific attack on Christianity by someone who doesn’t really understand it but speaking to a much larger problem within the evangelical community. Ultimately, I don’t think Jesus can be politically pigeonholed, but from what I know of him (and we’re tight, on a first name basis and everything) redistribution is not part of his teachings. Because he’s also pretty clear about stealing. (His dad has already pretty much laid down the law on that issue.)

Anyway, the piece is worth your time, as is this one.

My buddy Mike, the first writer to encourage me to continue writing about politics way back in 2002 when I started, is the Reader of the Day at SteynOnline. Because Mike’s awesomeness cannot be contained.

Follow him on Twitter kids. Ari Fleischer does, and that Ari is a hot smart guy.

This business about bullying has gotten out of control. We all had experiences throughout our formative years that could amount to bullying — nasty rumors, confrontations, rabid teasing, even physical violence — and yet we’re still here. I can’t even remember those instances that seemed so tragic at the time. As an adult, I have never once felt bullied — because I’m an adult. I’ve left high school behind, (though not all of my peers have), and figure that if someone has a problem with me, well, that’s actually their problem. I even had a Facebook encounter with someone who used to be a chief tormentor of mine when we were in high school — she apparently seemed to want to pick up where we left off. So I kicked her off my friends list. (I did have a few choice words for her, however.) It’s pretty easy to do. If she had started calling and hanging up, I would have called her back and told her to f*** off and then blocked her number.

Being bullied as an adult is silly. You have to allow people to get to you, to get under your skin. If they aren’t threatening physical violence, report it. If they are just calling you names on Facebook, get over it.

It’s time we grow up. It’s time we all grow a pair and move away from childish things. Life is much more interesting, (and less embarrassing), if you learn to let these things go. Do your job, support your family, model adult behavior for your own children so that they don’t turn into perpetual victims or mini-sadists, and let the “bullies” bully each other. Adults with the high school mentality are obviously complete idiots, so treat them as such.

This is what is wrong with our late great Western culture — we’ve allowed the thumbsucking nanny state to turn us into perpetual adolescents, also retaining the mentality that goes with it. We’re all victims. It’s always someone else’s fault that we can’t function as adults. (Well then, I suppose pop psychology shoulders much of the blame as well.)

Get over it.