Are you a LOTR fan? Do you like Monty Python? Then imagine the bastard offspring of J.R.R. Tolkein and Terry Gilliam. He/she might have produced this. And I thought I didn't have a life. Wow. Hat tip to Da Goddess.

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The Smiths were unable to conceive children, and decided to use a surrogate
father to start their family. On the day the proxy father was to arrive,
Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, "I'm off. The man should be here soon".

Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer rang the
doorbell, hoping to make a sale. "Good morning, madam. I've come to...."

"Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Smith cut in.

"Really?" the photographer asked. "Well, good ! I've made a specialty of babies."

"That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat."

After a moment she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?"

"Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch
and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too;
you can really spread out!"

"Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work for Harry and me."

"Well, madam, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try
several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I'm sure
you'll be pleased with the results."

"My, that's a lot of ..." gasped Mrs. Smith.

"Madam, in my line of work, a man must take his time. I'd love to be in and
out in five minutes, but you'd be disappointed with that, I'm sure."

"Don't I know it.", Mrs. Smith said quietly.

The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby
pictures. "This was done on the top of a bus in downtown London."

"Oh my god!!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed, tugging at her handkerchief.

"And these twins turned out exceptionally well, when you consider their
mother was so difficult to work with."

"She was difficult ?" asked Mrs. Smith.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to Hyde Park to get the job done
right. People were crowding around four and five deep, pushing to get a good
look."

"Four and five deep?" asked Mrs. Smith, eyes widened in amazement.

"Yes", the photographer said. "And for more than three hours, too. The mother
was constantly squealing and yelling - I could hardly concentrate. Then
darkness approached and I began to rush my shots. Finally, when the
squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just packed it all in."

Mrs. Smith leaned forward. "You mean they actually chewed on your, um, ...
equipment?"

"That's right. Well madam, if you're ready, I'll set up my tripod so that we
can get to work."

"Tripod??".

"Oh yes, I have to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big for me
to hold very long. Madam?.... Madam?..... Good Lord, she's fainted!"

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Lots of interesting stuff over here. Excerpt:

The longest common (i.e., likely to appear in an unabridged dictionary) word: "pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis" .

Words which contain all five vowels in reverse alphabetical order:
"duoliteral", "subcontinental" "uncomplimentary".

Check it out if you're interested.

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Another essay on the liberal media bia, this time from the keyboard of Orson Scott Card. Excerpt:

Testing for Bias

This morning – the Sunday before Memorial Day – I picked up the Asheville Citizen-Times and started looking through national news coverage. You know, the stuff that is filtered through the lens of liberal bias long before it even reaches local papers, which rarely revise what they get off the press service wires.

In a story on Defense Secretary Donald RumsfeldÂ’s remarks to the graduating class at West Point, here is the lead paragraph:

“Defense Secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld, making no mention of the prisoner abuse scandal that has led to calls for his ouster, told a cheering crowd of graduating cadets Saturday that they will help win the global fight against terror.”

LetÂ’s see Â… how could there be any bias in that? Every word is true, right?

Bulldog Journalism

Except for this: The first thing mentioned, the lens through which we are forced to view the rest of the story, is something that did not happen and that only an idiot would expect might happen: Rumsfeld mentioning the prisoner-abuse scandal at a commencement address at West Point.

The lead, in other words, is not the graduation that is supposedly being reported, but rather RumsfeldÂ’s failure to resign in the face of events that happened weeks ago.

How is RumsfeldÂ’s not resigning news? ItÂ’s mentioned in this story only because the reporter does not want to let go of it.

This is bulldog journalism: Once you get hold of a story, you never loosen your grip until your victim dies – at least politically.

Read it all. Reprinted in The Ornery American.

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Having a bad day? Okay, it's time for a little relaxation exercise.

Close your eyes. Picture yourself in a secluded spot up in the mountains. There are trees there, birds are singing, the sky is a rich, clear blue. Now imagine that your sitting next to a pool of water being fed by some mountain springs. Look into the pool of water. It's so clear that you can see the face of the person whose head you're holding under. There now. Feel better?

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A former president dies. A wildly popular former president, I might add. People all over this country lowers their flags to half mast to honor him. However, some had to be dragged kicking and screaming to that point. Excerpt:

Give some Democrats credit: many of the comments released by party factotums on the death of President Ronald Reagan at least attempted to be gracious. But, while some of the words may have been magnanimous, the actions of some Democrats was not.

In California, according to a Democratic House leadership staffer, Democratic House leader Nancy Pelosi's office refused until late in the day West Coast time to prepare any remarks by the leader on the passing of the President.

"A call went out around mid-day on the East Coast that Reagan might be in serious condition, and that party leaders should be ready. But Pelosi's people basically said they couldn't' be bothered. [Democratic whip] Steny Hoyer had to get them in line. We got the impression they just didn't want to say anything that would be construed as supportive of a Republican."

Pelosi's office also nixed sending flowers to the funeral home where the president's body was being prepared for burial.

Back in Washington, staffers at the Democratic National Committee stopped a couple of interns who were lowering the flags to half mast outside their headquarters.

"The interns were just doing what they thought was right," says a DNC staffer, who heard about the incident. "But somebody a bit more senior told them not to lower the flags until they absolutely had to, I guess when President Bush announced that all flags should be lowered. There was only an hour's difference. It was pretty petty, but that's how bad things have gotten around here."

Nice. How very, very nice. Dickheads.

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Well, it's almost time for my first extended road trip with a toddler onboard. To complicate matters, my wife is 5-1/2 months pregnant with our second child. However, I'm nothing if not stubborn. We WILL have fun. :-)

Where are we going? The family is off to the square dance capital of the world. And no, that is not the reason we're going. One of my wife's best friends moved back home to Branson, MO, before we got married and I mentioned that this might be a good time for our family to visit. The friend hasn't seen our son up close and personal, having to make do with lots and lots of pictures via email. The esteemed spouse was exceptionally pleased by my suggestion, which was kind of the point. She's been missing her friend something fierce. Besides, it'll be a good chance to see parts of the country in ways that you just can't do while flying at an altitude of 35,000 feet. We'll stop by Graceland to tip our hats to The King before continuing on. I'll also play the tourist in St. Louis by riding up in the Arch. Sure it sounds geeky, but, well, what else did you expect from me?

There's still some planning to do(finding hotels with cribs, for instance) before we hit the road, but we're ready other than that. Posting will be non-existent during that time. I've got another week to add more tripe to this site. Stay tuned for still more wastes of time.

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Okay, when did this myth begin that you cannot toilet train children before they're 2-1/2/3 years old? A good friend of mine trained her child around the age of 14 months; my mother says that I was trained around 15 months. Okay, one size doesn't fit all for children. However, this rigid mindset seemed to originate around the early 1980's and I can't find any good reason for it. Somewhere around 15 months, most children are probably ready to get started. Things that have to exist before you begin, though:

1) I believe that the child must be able to walk.
2) He/she should have a decent awareness of his/her bodily functions. My son son started bringing me the diaper changing pad when he had a stinky a couple of months ago.
3) Parents must exhibit patience. Remember, you're dealing with a baby; don't be one yourself.

I know several people with 4+ age children that still wear diapers. One will stand in the middle of the room and say, "I'm peeing!" You think that's cute? Not me. If your child isn't potty trained by age four then-barring physical problems- you need to work on your will as a parent. Yes, that's right: you're the freaking parent. Remember that.

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I posted a frivolous entry after the linkage to Reagan posts because I just needed a mental break. Seeing the bile pouring out at the DU made me want to puke. Reading lots of the memorial posts to President Reagan has eased my mind enough so that I can describe what Reagan meant to me:

Some of the most vivid memories from my childhood are of the Cold War and the continuous threat of nuclear war. Every Saturday morning, I would listen as the air raid sirens were tested. I lived 6 miles away from the closest shelter, but the sound was loud and clear. We watched the news each day to see how much closer the world had inched towards annihilation. That was how the 1960's ended and the 1970's began.

The Seventies reintroduced this country to government corruption and crimes via Watergate. A president resigned in disgrace over the incident. Then a peanut farmer from Georgia appeared on the scene and the people of the United States decided to give the reigns of power to a DC outsider. To give Carter his due, I believed then that he was a decent man full of good intentions. Unfortunately, the road to misery index was paved by those intentions: double digit inflation; a stagnant economy; waiting in gas lines for 2+ hours on the weekends; the Iran hostage crisis; timid responses to international aggression(note: I agreed then and agree now that boycotting the 1980 Olympics was the proper thing to do); and the creation of the misery index. Many in this country were convinced that America's best days were behind us as we entered 1980.

An then a funny thing happened: the governor of California received the GOP nomination for President and won the general election. He campaigned on the idea that he believed in the people of this country, that America would once again become the leader of the free world. And after becoming President, Reagan governed in the same way. Even when the recession of the early 1980's was at its worst(10+% unemployment) , President Reagan's confidence in this country inspired that same sort of confidence in the rest of us. His heartfelt belief in the people of this country lifted our spirits and finally allowed us to shake off the malaise of the 1970's. And when the Soviet Union finally collapsed as an instituion, we realized that President Reagan's faith in us was justified. We were proud not only of this country, but also the man that we had chosen to lead us.

Watching President Reagan deteriorate the last 10 years has been difficult. His mind was no longer sharp; his wit no longer inspired. The love of his life watched over her best friend as he was slowly devoured from within. The rest of us could only offer condolences and support. And now that his suffering has ended I can only say this: You were the tonic this country needed during a low point. Would that there were more like you. Godspeed, Mr. President.

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And it's a little better than I anticipated:

The Dante's Inferno Test has sent you to Purgatory!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Not surprisingly, I appear to have a lot in common with people in levels 2, 3 and 5. Link via Harvey.

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I was saddened by Reagan's passing for many reasons, some of which I'll discuss in a later post. However, I knew that the human debris at DU would be high-fiving each other. My wife had a hard time believing me until I reminded her of the celebration over Michael Kelly's death. Even I, though, couldn't have imagined this. Memo to all my left-leaning Democrat friends: if you do not dissociate yourself from garbage like this, you run the risk of being labeled as one of them. Most of us on the right have repudiated that garbage the infests our end of the political spectrum, although there pieces of slime that we haven't managed to scrape off of our boots completely. Please show that you value humanity over politics by jettisoning the piles of feces on your end. It will go a long way towards bridging the ideological divide. Should you refuse to disavow such contemptible behavior, though, I will cease to consider you my opponent: you will have become my enemy.

Update: I should have gone to Andrew's website quicker for a mental cleanser; Sullivan is a huge Reagan fan. Start here and keep scrolling.

Update #2: Michele offers her opinion of Reagan in the midst of another excellent post:

Reagan saved me from fear. Reagan delivered me from evil. Reagan made the nightmare of the Russians go away. That changed my life, changed my views and forever altered my perception of America, the world and my future. So of course I honor the man. Of course I look back at his presidency as one that gave me hope and promise.

She had more to say here.

Thanks to the Emperor, from whom I borrowed the image below.

Update #3: A link to some of Reagan's greatest speeches.

Update #4: The complete schedule for memorial services can be found here.

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The guy in this story made a strong big to make the list of this years Darwin awards. Excerpt:

The Missouri State Water Patrol said he used the hose to snorkel 30-feet below the surface, with a 20-pound boat anchor tied to his waist to help him reach the bottom.

Quick bit of information for those of you tempted to try a simliar stunt. You lungs hold a limited amount of air. A 30-foot section of garden hose probably holds air more than your lungs do. What does that mean? It means you're likely pass out from the excess CO2 in your lungs before drowning. So don't. Just think of this as a public service announcement.

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An atheist was spending a quiet day fishing when suddenly his boat was
attacked by the Loch Ness monster. In one easy flip, the beast tossed him
and his boat high into the air. Then it opened its mouth to swallow both.

As the man sailed head over heels, he cried out, "Oh, my God! Help me!" At
once, the ferocious attack scene froze in place, and as the atheist hung in
mid-air, a booming voice came down from the clouds, "I thought you didn't
believe in Me!"

"Come on God, give me a break!!", the man pleaded. "Two minutes ago I didn't
believe in the Loch Ness monster either!"

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The guy in this story has been taught what it means to be on the receiving end of schadenfreude by his former staff.

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I've slacked off lately on completing my Alliance assignments. Hmm. That lead sentence sounds familiar. In any event, this week's assignment is due:

Who will be the Instapundit T-shirt Babe?

or

What will be on the Instapundit T-shirt?

C'mon! We all know who the T-shirt babe will be. Go here to see. As to what will be on the Insta-shirt, well, the Alliance was on this one back in October.

Now close your eyes and picture the Insta-"babe" wearing that T-shirt. Gurk.

Okay, if Evil Glenn were really smart, he'd choose one of the Axis of Naughty babes to be his spokesmodel. I guess we should all be glad that he's too busy watching penguin porn to pay attention to such things.

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I can always count on Moxie to post something that makes me want to puke and laugh at the same time. Excerpt:

As you know this past Monday was Memorial Day and since that was the last official day of my life as a Democrat -- after Dennis KucinichÂ’s botox party -- I used my welfare check to fly out to Michael MooreÂ’s barbeque.

Let me tell you this, IÂ’ve never seen so much food and been unable to eat.

Sure MM eats like a Neanderthal but youÂ’ve not seen anything that makes you more nauseous until youÂ’ve seen the French-loved filmmaker from Michigan licking his own nipples. How he found them amongst the rolls of fat is still a mystery to me.
...
I felt like Hilary Clinton, except without a cock. And a daughter.

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Steven H. has regaled us all with his tales about Claudia for a long while now, including some details that "nice guys" will find horribly familiar. Here's a little excerpt just in case you don't understand where I'm coming from:

Problem was, Claudia stayed too close. She was possessive. She was jealous. She interfered when other women came around. And she called three times a day. You think I'm kidding. I mean three times a day. Not every day, but many days. And a day rarely passed when she didn't call at least once.

At first, I thought it was cute, but eventually, I saw that I was being used. Claudia wanted a disposable man who would escort her to functions and keep her entertained, but she planned to drop me instantly when someone better-looking showed up. That's fine, if you understand that I need to meet people, too. It's not fine if you run interference to keep me single. Whenever a man showed up and showed an interest in Claudia, I made myself scarce and tried to help. But she wouldn't give me the same consideration.

On top of that, she treated me like a servant. We'd agree to go out and do something, and then she'd call me the day we were supposed to go, or the day before, and tell me some man had batted his lashes at her and she had to go on a date with him that very day. She's a grown woman, and I actually had to explain that this was not acceptable and would not be tolerated.

She admitted more than once that she thought of me as someone she could fall back on if she couldn't find a good-looking prize bachelor. I told her that wasn't going to happen, but telling a woman things like that is a waste of time. Most women bluff and BS constantly, and they assume men do, too.

You get the idea. There are plenty of decent guys out there that are respectful, intelligent, funny and gainfully employed. Too often, women will treat those men like emotional tampons, forcing us to absorb all of the pain and disillusionment when the losers they were dating treated them like shit. Here's an expression that many men will find familiar:

::sob:: "Why can't he be more like you?"

Here's a clue: no one is more like me than, well, me. It stands to reason. And eventually I'll tire of being the fallback guy and move on to someone that actually appreciates me for who I am. When you're 45+ and despairing of finding a nice guy, remember that you probably kicked a bunch of us to the curb because you thought that we weren't exciting enough. I guess you'll get your kicks from loneliness and bitterness in the future, though. Don't worry: I'm certain that you'll find a way to blame it all on us guys. Happy to oblige, ma'am. For the record, the "Kick me" sign has long since been removed, so move quickly. You might succeed in pissing on me, but I'm most assuredly not going to help you.

I have several women friends who are as dear to me as family; most of them attended my wedding. Despite what Billy Crystal says, it's possible for a man to be friends with a woman. And I've quizzed them all about why so many women(all of them) invariably choose to date jerks for such a long time. The general answer was something along the lines of this: "Bad boys can be exciting and fun." Maybe I'm too male to understand the pleasure one can get from being abused emotionally, cheated on and ignored. However, most finally realized that dating nice guys has rewards of its own and are happily married to those boring guys that love them, respect them and generally treat them like royalty. Could it be that I'm on to something? Naah.

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5. You can actually converse in fluent Klingon.
4. It's difficult to decide between wearing Vulcan ears or Romulan ears to the next Star Trek convention.
3. The letter writing campaign to bring back Cop Rock is still in full swing.
2. You're over the age of 35 and live in your parents basement.
1. You expend substantial effort recreating the Tron costume and then post pictures of yourself wearing it on the Internet.

Posted by: Physics Geek at 08:07 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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And hopefully not the last.
One of the things that Reagan did that still pisses me off is the pressure that the federal government brought to bear on individual states, forcing them to raise the drinking age to 21. If I tried such a thing, it would rightfully be called extortion, although maybe not from a legal standpoint. Let's see. You can be drafted at 18(you have to register for Selective Service at any rate). You have to right to vote in local/state/federal elections. You can even speed around in your car like a nutcase threatening life, limb and property. But you're not allowed to drink a beer. Utter and complete nonsense. I was the last group of 18 year olds legally allowed to drink. Trust me when I tell you that no magical transformation occurs on one's 21st birthday whereby they become responsible drinkers. All that's happened is that the attraction of doing something illegal has been added to an activity that should not be criminalized. Bah. This topic pisses me off. I'll have lots more to say at a later time.

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From the editors of PC World comes this little article which is just chockful of helpful suggestions.

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