I found this old post while looking for something else, and found a terrible mistake.
Look at prediction #4 on this link.
I apologize for the error.
Look at prediction #4 on this link.
I apologize for the error.
Showing posts with label failed political correctness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label failed political correctness. Show all posts
Friday, March 29, 2013
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Beat The Cripple
I tried to beat The Cripple on the Memorial Day quiz.
I failed. I got 28 out of 30.
I failed. I got 28 out of 30.
Cripple fight pic came from here.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Barack Obama's Environmentally Correct Easter Egg Hunt
(CNSNews.com) – The White House announced Monday that this year’s Easter Egg Roll will be “more environmentally friendly,” with eggs made ofwood certified by an environmental activist organization and packaging that will “minimize waste and environmental impact.”
Can someone please, please, please explain to me, using little bitty words that I can understand, why it is that eggs made of trees are "greener" than the eggs that are squeezed out of chickens?
The press release issued by the White House states that the eggs will be produced in the United States from hardwood “certified” by the Forest Stewardship Council, a non-profit organization with a presence in 50 countries and a mission “to promote the responsible management of the world’s forests.”
Can someone please, please, please explain to me, using little bitty words that I can understand, why is it that involving globe-trotting bureaucrats and regulators (with a presence in 50 countries) makes something "greener"?
The “greener” packaging for the eggs – available in purple, pink, green and yellow – is made from paperboard certified by the Sustainable Forestry Initiative. The paperboard “uses no wood fibers from controversial sources” and the printed carton the egg comes in can be recycled. The packaging is also decorated with vegetable oil-based inks and water-based coatings.
If there's anything our President should guard against, its wood fibers from controversial sources.
Think of the energy and resources wasted on this exercise in political correctness. Manufacturing wooden eggs, Separating the controversial wood fiber from the more bland varieties. Coming up with an ink made from vegetables. Good God in heaven, the mind recoils.
(Water-based coatings are a good thing, IMAO. Fewer VOC's released into the atmosphere. That part is semi-legit, but still nothing to brag about.)
Can someone please, please, please explain to me, using little bitty words that I can understand, why it is that eggs made of trees are "greener" than the eggs that are squeezed out of chickens?
The press release issued by the White House states that the eggs will be produced in the United States from hardwood “certified” by the Forest Stewardship Council, a non-profit organization with a presence in 50 countries and a mission “to promote the responsible management of the world’s forests.”
Can someone please, please, please explain to me, using little bitty words that I can understand, why is it that involving globe-trotting bureaucrats and regulators (with a presence in 50 countries) makes something "greener"?
The “greener” packaging for the eggs – available in purple, pink, green and yellow – is made from paperboard certified by the Sustainable Forestry Initiative. The paperboard “uses no wood fibers from controversial sources” and the printed carton the egg comes in can be recycled. The packaging is also decorated with vegetable oil-based inks and water-based coatings.
If there's anything our President should guard against, its wood fibers from controversial sources.
Think of the energy and resources wasted on this exercise in political correctness. Manufacturing wooden eggs, Separating the controversial wood fiber from the more bland varieties. Coming up with an ink made from vegetables. Good God in heaven, the mind recoils.
(Water-based coatings are a good thing, IMAO. Fewer VOC's released into the atmosphere. That part is semi-legit, but still nothing to brag about.)
Monday, February 7, 2011
Coexist
Said Musa, 45, has been held for eight months in a Kabul prison were he claims he has been tortured and sexually abused by inmates and guards.
Mr Musa, who lost his left leg in a landmine explosion in the 1990s, has worked for the Red Cross for 15 years and helps to treat fellow amputees.
He was arrested in May last year as he attempted to seek asylum at the German embassy following a crackdown on Christians within Afghanistan.
He claims he was visited by a judge who told him he would be hanged within days unless he converted back to Islam.
But he remains defiant and said he would be willing to die for his faith.
He told the Sunday Times: 'My body is theirs to do what they want with.
'Only God can decide if my spirit goes to hell.'
Defence lawyers have refused to represent him, while others have dropped the case after receiving death threats.
Mr Musa was arrested after a TV station showed western men baptising Afghans during secret ceremonies.
So many gods, so many creeds,
So many paths that wind and wind,
While just the art of being kind
Is all the sad world needs.
— Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Insane Locavore quote of the day
Various people have told me to broaden my horizons and stop reading and viewing so much libertarian propaganda.
So yesterday I went to Barnes & Noble and picked up this month's copy of Adbusters, the most anti-capitalist publication I could get my hands on. (The New York Holy Times was sold out.)
Adbusters is a big-time environmentalist, anti-capitalist, anti-consumption and anti-marketing periodical. They have a visceral hatred of shopping malls. Adbusters gives the impression that the Soviet empire fell because of bad luck and poor execution of the Marxist roadmap. "Profit", the concept that supports Adbusters, is in such ill-repute that I would feel guilty about ever purchasing a copy.
Adbusters supports something called "Buy Nothing Day"
(It's on November 26th. You're supposed to purchase nothing. Don't support your neighbors, your friends, or anyone but yourself. Don't swap your own stuff for anyone else's. Regardless of their intent, that'll be the result.)
They do have some cool advertising parodies. Here's one taking a stab at Joe Camel.
I was kind of enjoying their (ahem) unique point of view until I got to this quote. It's from a guy named Bill Mollison, founder of something called the Permaculture Movement.
"We're only truly secure when we can look out our kitchen window and see our food growing and our friends working nearby." - Bill Mollison
Oh for the love of God. Where to begin, where to begin.
We are more secure than we've ever been because we can't look out our kitchen windows and see our entire food supply. If the view from your kitchen is your only food supply, and something happens to the area in front of the kitchen window, you're in deep, deep shit. Google the word "famine" when time permits.
But if you have cheerfully taken part in the capitalist evils of globalization, you don't have to worry as much. Iowa could waste its entire wheat crop by converting it to enthanol or some other useless boondoggle, and it will hurt me. But there's always Nebraska. And Canada. And Russia. The Ukraine. As long as those places are growing wheat, and as long as someone in our government doesn't shut down the supply of wheat (to protect American jobs), then I'll probably be okay.
As long as some raving locavore doesn't require me to live off what's visible from my kitchen window, I'll be okay.
But wait, Mr. Bill Mollison, founder of the Permaculture Movement, there's more. I've got more for you. Where are you going to get your kitchen, the kitchen you're going to look out from to view your wheat, your bananas, your strawberries, your lowfat decaf triple-skinny mocha, your carrots, lettuce, arugula, your mineral supplements and your chicken, fish, and occasional slice of roast beef? Where will this kitchen be produced? The kitchen itself. The wood, the brick, the sheetrock, the heat and air vents, the electrical wiring, the ducts, the oven, the stove, the sink and the water faucets? The refrigerator? Pots, pans, and George Foreman Grill? Does that have to come from your front yard?
Will you need to grow the trees for wood within view of the damn kitchen, just to feel safe? Are you going to set up a kiln to make bricks out of local mud? Mr. Mollison, have you ever looked at the different locations that Adam Smith's Invisible Hand blindly coordinates in a united effort to put ceramic tile on your countertops and your floors? Are you going to go off into a blind lefty panic if some of that stuff is manufactured by little dark people who don't look like you, you racist son of a bitch?
Sorry about that. I can't stand racism masquerading as compassionate save-the-earth do-goodism. Back to the topic at hand....
Let's get to the window itself, that window Mollison is looking out of to see his garden and his wheat field and chickens and goats and fish tank and brick kiln and lumber forest and all the other things required to make Bill Mollison feel safe from the efforts of other people in strange places with funny names.
Bill, do you have any idea, any idea at all, what goes into making a damn window? Do you want all that going on in your front yard? Or is food the only thing that makes you break out in fantods if it's handled by Mexicans? Is it ok if Mexicans or Canadians, or people from across the county line make your window?
"We're only truly secure when we can look out our kitchen window and see our food growing and our friends working nearby." - Bill Mollison
Ok, we're getting to the end of that insane sentence. "We're only truly secure when we can look out our kitchen window....and see our friends working nearby." Hell, is there going to be room for them if Bill Mollison requires all of this industry in his front yard? Or are they all going to be Bill Mollison's employees?
What will the view have to look like from their kitchen windows if they have the same phobias and anxieties that afflict Bill Mollison?
Do you think we might all be better off if we allow everyone else in the world to compete for the honor and privilege of producing our food, kitchens and windows? And we can give them what we produce in return? And maybe, just maybe, they can one day have a kitchen of their own? With windows?
Sorry for such an ill-tempered rant. I wrote Mollison's sentence down in my notepad yesterday and just found it a few minutes ago. If you want to read a more calm and measured explanation of the evils (yeah, evils) of Bill Mollison's worldview, check out "The Future And Its Enemies" by Virginia Postrel.
So yesterday I went to Barnes & Noble and picked up this month's copy of Adbusters, the most anti-capitalist publication I could get my hands on. (The New York Holy Times was sold out.)
Adbusters supports something called "Buy Nothing Day"
(It's on November 26th. You're supposed to purchase nothing. Don't support your neighbors, your friends, or anyone but yourself. Don't swap your own stuff for anyone else's. Regardless of their intent, that'll be the result.)
They do have some cool advertising parodies. Here's one taking a stab at Joe Camel.
I was kind of enjoying their (ahem) unique point of view until I got to this quote. It's from a guy named Bill Mollison, founder of something called the Permaculture Movement.
"We're only truly secure when we can look out our kitchen window and see our food growing and our friends working nearby." - Bill Mollison
Oh for the love of God. Where to begin, where to begin.
We are more secure than we've ever been because we can't look out our kitchen windows and see our entire food supply. If the view from your kitchen is your only food supply, and something happens to the area in front of the kitchen window, you're in deep, deep shit. Google the word "famine" when time permits.
But if you have cheerfully taken part in the capitalist evils of globalization, you don't have to worry as much. Iowa could waste its entire wheat crop by converting it to enthanol or some other useless boondoggle, and it will hurt me. But there's always Nebraska. And Canada. And Russia. The Ukraine. As long as those places are growing wheat, and as long as someone in our government doesn't shut down the supply of wheat (to protect American jobs), then I'll probably be okay.
As long as some raving locavore doesn't require me to live off what's visible from my kitchen window, I'll be okay.
But wait, Mr. Bill Mollison, founder of the Permaculture Movement, there's more. I've got more for you. Where are you going to get your kitchen, the kitchen you're going to look out from to view your wheat, your bananas, your strawberries, your lowfat decaf triple-skinny mocha, your carrots, lettuce, arugula, your mineral supplements and your chicken, fish, and occasional slice of roast beef? Where will this kitchen be produced? The kitchen itself. The wood, the brick, the sheetrock, the heat and air vents, the electrical wiring, the ducts, the oven, the stove, the sink and the water faucets? The refrigerator? Pots, pans, and George Foreman Grill? Does that have to come from your front yard?
Will you need to grow the trees for wood within view of the damn kitchen, just to feel safe? Are you going to set up a kiln to make bricks out of local mud? Mr. Mollison, have you ever looked at the different locations that Adam Smith's Invisible Hand blindly coordinates in a united effort to put ceramic tile on your countertops and your floors? Are you going to go off into a blind lefty panic if some of that stuff is manufactured by little dark people who don't look like you, you racist son of a bitch?
Sorry about that. I can't stand racism masquerading as compassionate save-the-earth do-goodism. Back to the topic at hand....
Let's get to the window itself, that window Mollison is looking out of to see his garden and his wheat field and chickens and goats and fish tank and brick kiln and lumber forest and all the other things required to make Bill Mollison feel safe from the efforts of other people in strange places with funny names.
Bill, do you have any idea, any idea at all, what goes into making a damn window? Do you want all that going on in your front yard? Or is food the only thing that makes you break out in fantods if it's handled by Mexicans? Is it ok if Mexicans or Canadians, or people from across the county line make your window?
"We're only truly secure when we can look out our kitchen window and see our food growing and our friends working nearby." - Bill Mollison
Ok, we're getting to the end of that insane sentence. "We're only truly secure when we can look out our kitchen window....and see our friends working nearby." Hell, is there going to be room for them if Bill Mollison requires all of this industry in his front yard? Or are they all going to be Bill Mollison's employees?
What will the view have to look like from their kitchen windows if they have the same phobias and anxieties that afflict Bill Mollison?
Do you think we might all be better off if we allow everyone else in the world to compete for the honor and privilege of producing our food, kitchens and windows? And we can give them what we produce in return? And maybe, just maybe, they can one day have a kitchen of their own? With windows?
Sorry for such an ill-tempered rant. I wrote Mollison's sentence down in my notepad yesterday and just found it a few minutes ago. If you want to read a more calm and measured explanation of the evils (yeah, evils) of Bill Mollison's worldview, check out "The Future And Its Enemies" by Virginia Postrel.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
The Global Warming Cult has plans for those who will not submit to The New World Order
If you don't cut your carbon emissions by 10%, the followers of Saint Albert, The Goracle Of Music City, are going to splatter your guts all over the office.
There's going to be nothing left of you but a greasy spot.
That's the message of this video, and it is not a parody. It's a fantasy.
What you're about to see was produced by a group called 10:10, who want everyone to reduce their carbon emissions by 10%. Or else.
There's a link at the bottom of this post where you can read 10:10's apology to the environmental movement for pulling back the curtain too far. Hell, we've now seen behind the curtain, the man behind the curtain, his underwear, his hernia scar, and that tattoo he got during that wild trip to New Orleans.
Goodgodalmighty, they should also apologize to their mothers, their children, and everyone who knows them.
Don't they know that in the last century, governments killed 200 million of their own citizens?
Here's Ed Morrissey on what you're about to see:
What makes this fascinating is that the people who produce this dreck have no clue as to just how far removed they have become from normal human sensibilities, or at least they didn’t until the video began provoking the fully-predictable reaction. They have become so wrapped up in Gaia that they seem to have little connection to humanity.
(Go here if you want to learn more about the mindset of the lady with the sign. It's a subject for another day.)
The most alarming part of the video? To me it is when the office workers slowly start raising their hands, looking around to see if everyone else is raising theirs. They look like they don't agree with what is being asked of them, but they are afraid to express anything except mindless conformity.
Otherwise, you see, the nice man might hit his red button. Get in line, you mindless sheep. Start goose-stepping. You see, there's No Pressure.
Ok, enough ranting. Here's the video.
Hope everyone has a great Saturday. I'm going to dispatch 6 semi-tractor drivers and have them ride around Fort Worth all day, just for the hell of it.
I'm turning on every light in the damn house.
The contents of my city-mandated recycling bin are going into the regular garbage.
I'm breaking every CFL ObamaBulb I can find, and dumping the mercury into the sewers.
In a few minutes, people in Abbot, Texas, will be able to hear Lynyrd Skynyrd's One More From The Road blasting forth from my stereo, Limey Nanny-Staters with red buttons be damned.
Go here to read an apology from the producers of this mess.
Go here to see Audi's "Green Police" ad, just in case you've forgotten about it. You see, this was not a fluke. The authoritarians among us really do believe that this imagery is appealing.
There's going to be nothing left of you but a greasy spot.
That's the message of this video, and it is not a parody. It's a fantasy.
What you're about to see was produced by a group called 10:10, who want everyone to reduce their carbon emissions by 10%. Or else.
There's a link at the bottom of this post where you can read 10:10's apology to the environmental movement for pulling back the curtain too far. Hell, we've now seen behind the curtain, the man behind the curtain, his underwear, his hernia scar, and that tattoo he got during that wild trip to New Orleans.
Goodgodalmighty, they should also apologize to their mothers, their children, and everyone who knows them.
Don't they know that in the last century, governments killed 200 million of their own citizens?
Here's Ed Morrissey on what you're about to see:
What makes this fascinating is that the people who produce this dreck have no clue as to just how far removed they have become from normal human sensibilities, or at least they didn’t until the video began provoking the fully-predictable reaction. They have become so wrapped up in Gaia that they seem to have little connection to humanity.
(Go here if you want to learn more about the mindset of the lady with the sign. It's a subject for another day.)
The most alarming part of the video? To me it is when the office workers slowly start raising their hands, looking around to see if everyone else is raising theirs. They look like they don't agree with what is being asked of them, but they are afraid to express anything except mindless conformity.
Otherwise, you see, the nice man might hit his red button. Get in line, you mindless sheep. Start goose-stepping. You see, there's No Pressure.
Ok, enough ranting. Here's the video.
Hope everyone has a great Saturday. I'm going to dispatch 6 semi-tractor drivers and have them ride around Fort Worth all day, just for the hell of it.
I'm turning on every light in the damn house.
The contents of my city-mandated recycling bin are going into the regular garbage.
I'm breaking every CFL ObamaBulb I can find, and dumping the mercury into the sewers.
In a few minutes, people in Abbot, Texas, will be able to hear Lynyrd Skynyrd's One More From The Road blasting forth from my stereo, Limey Nanny-Staters with red buttons be damned.
Go here to read an apology from the producers of this mess.
Go here to see Audi's "Green Police" ad, just in case you've forgotten about it. You see, this was not a fluke. The authoritarians among us really do believe that this imagery is appealing.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Who Wants "Newsweek"?
The Boston Post asked the "Who Wants Newsweek?" question in a recent article about the once-great weekly magazine being put up for sale after years of declining readership.
Newsweek's editor, Jon Meacham, is a good writer, but he suffers from a blinding affection for The Teleprompter Jesus, along with the typical inconsistencies that go with joining that cult. Here's a pic from the cover story that Meacham wrote shortly after the bailout scam:
Later on, Meacham managed to make light of the Tea Party bunch who claimed Obama was some kind of "Crypto-Socialist".
Go figure. According to Meacham's cover story, I though we all were.
Here's the closing paragraph of the Boston Post article:
It would be a mistake to argue that Newsweek’s center-left stance and Obama worship did it in. U.S. News and World Report converted to a monthly two years ago. No one can fault Newsweek for trying a new course. But maybe the world already has a surplus of must-see analysis and opinion.
Well, I disagree. If you give your readers a steady diet of Barackaganda, you're going to lose readers. Lordy, if I want a center-left stance, complete with "Obama worship", I can turn on Meet The Press.
.
So goodbye, Newsweek. You got me through many a dull Study Hall at North Sunflower Academy, 1974 - 1979. And one other thing, compliments of these folks:
Newsweek's editor, Jon Meacham, is a good writer, but he suffers from a blinding affection for The Teleprompter Jesus, along with the typical inconsistencies that go with joining that cult. Here's a pic from the cover story that Meacham wrote shortly after the bailout scam:
Later on, Meacham managed to make light of the Tea Party bunch who claimed Obama was some kind of "Crypto-Socialist".
Go figure. According to Meacham's cover story, I though we all were.
Here's the closing paragraph of the Boston Post article:
It would be a mistake to argue that Newsweek’s center-left stance and Obama worship did it in. U.S. News and World Report converted to a monthly two years ago. No one can fault Newsweek for trying a new course. But maybe the world already has a surplus of must-see analysis and opinion.
Well, I disagree. If you give your readers a steady diet of Barackaganda, you're going to lose readers. Lordy, if I want a center-left stance, complete with "Obama worship", I can turn on Meet The Press.
.
So goodbye, Newsweek. You got me through many a dull Study Hall at North Sunflower Academy, 1974 - 1979. And one other thing, compliments of these folks:
Thursday, January 7, 2010
NIckM of "Counting Cats" has seen Avatar
NickM has a blog called Counting Cats.
They're having unseasonably cold weather in England. I think Nick's car is snowed in, and he can't make it to work. The boy has time on his hands.
The Times has published a silly review of "Avatar". The review shrugs off the cold weather, laments the death of superstition about Global Warming, then tries to explain why James Cameron's film will do more for the planet than the failed Copenhagen travel junket.
Captain Oates was an English Antarctic explorer, known for the manner of his death, when he walked from a tent into a blizzard, with the words "I am just going outside and may be some time".
They're having unseasonably cold weather in England. I think Nick's car is snowed in, and he can't make it to work. The boy has time on his hands.
The Times has published a silly review of "Avatar". The review shrugs off the cold weather, laments the death of superstition about Global Warming, then tries to explain why James Cameron's film will do more for the planet than the failed Copenhagen travel junket.
Captain Oates was an English Antarctic explorer, known for the manner of his death, when he walked from a tent into a blizzard, with the words "I am just going outside and may be some time".
That's all you need to know. Go here.
I'm in the Starbucks at I-30 and Hulen, laughing out loud. Well done, sir. Very well done.
Monday, April 13, 2009
The Weekly Radley and Congressman Eric Massa and two fuel cell cars and two SUV's
Let's start with someone calling himself HydroKevin, at the Hydrogen Cars Now website, who has blessed us with this heartwarming story.
Eric Massa, a new Congressman from upstate New York is driving a Chevy Equinox Fuel Cell vehicle today from his home in Corning to Washington DC for the swearing-in ceremony. The Democratic Congressman is making the 282-mile trip to promote the creation of green energy jobs in the 29th district where the Equinox FCV is currently being produced (Honeoye Falls).
According to Massa, “Taking this GM electric fuel cell car to Washington reflects all that I will stand for as your representative - creating good jobs in western New York, breaking our addiction to foreign oil, taking meaningful steps toward addressing global warming, and getting our economy back on the road to success. I look forward to being sworn into office on Tuesday so we can get to work.”
Massa is a former Republican who decided to turn Democrat because of his opposition to the Iraq War. On Capitol Hill, Congressman Massa is also interested in gaining a position on the House Transportation Committee. (emphasis mine)
So far the journey is going well for the Congressman interested in promoting green energy. At least he learn a lesson from the Big 3 Automaker CEO’s and didn’t take a private corporate jet to Washington to talk about alternative fuels at the swearing-in ceremony.
But Radley Balko gave us this addition to the story in the latest issue of Reason magazine. Keep the giggles to yourself, please:
"The problem was that the distance between those two points is 280 miles, and the car's range tops out at 250.
So Massa drove one fuel cell car to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, and had an SUV tow a second fuel cell car behind him. He then switched cars and continued to the nation's capital while the SUV towed the first car back to Corning. Once Massa arrived in Washington, D.C., in the second fuel cell car, a second SUV towed that car back to Corning.
In other words: To make a point about conservation and energy efficienty, Massa made the equivalent of three trips from Corning to D.C., two of them involving an SUV."
HydroKevin, please take note.....The point of the Green movement is to acquire Green government subsidies for your business. Nothing more. Please stop acting like it is for real. Please. It bothers those of us who know better.
And I think those of us in the freight, shipping, and logistics industry should do whatever is necessary to get Eric Massa onto that House Transportation Committee. With thinking like that, business will boom. Fuel cell vehicle backhauls, anyone?
pic of the green dollars from here (worth reading, BTW)
Eric Massa, a new Congressman from upstate New York is driving a Chevy Equinox Fuel Cell vehicle today from his home in Corning to Washington DC for the swearing-in ceremony. The Democratic Congressman is making the 282-mile trip to promote the creation of green energy jobs in the 29th district where the Equinox FCV is currently being produced (Honeoye Falls).
According to Massa, “Taking this GM electric fuel cell car to Washington reflects all that I will stand for as your representative - creating good jobs in western New York, breaking our addiction to foreign oil, taking meaningful steps toward addressing global warming, and getting our economy back on the road to success. I look forward to being sworn into office on Tuesday so we can get to work.”
Massa is a former Republican who decided to turn Democrat because of his opposition to the Iraq War. On Capitol Hill, Congressman Massa is also interested in gaining a position on the House Transportation Committee. (emphasis mine)
So far the journey is going well for the Congressman interested in promoting green energy. At least he learn a lesson from the Big 3 Automaker CEO’s and didn’t take a private corporate jet to Washington to talk about alternative fuels at the swearing-in ceremony.
But Radley Balko gave us this addition to the story in the latest issue of Reason magazine. Keep the giggles to yourself, please:
"The problem was that the distance between those two points is 280 miles, and the car's range tops out at 250.
So Massa drove one fuel cell car to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, and had an SUV tow a second fuel cell car behind him. He then switched cars and continued to the nation's capital while the SUV towed the first car back to Corning. Once Massa arrived in Washington, D.C., in the second fuel cell car, a second SUV towed that car back to Corning.
In other words: To make a point about conservation and energy efficienty, Massa made the equivalent of three trips from Corning to D.C., two of them involving an SUV."
HydroKevin, please take note.....The point of the Green movement is to acquire Green government subsidies for your business. Nothing more. Please stop acting like it is for real. Please. It bothers those of us who know better.
And I think those of us in the freight, shipping, and logistics industry should do whatever is necessary to get Eric Massa onto that House Transportation Committee. With thinking like that, business will boom. Fuel cell vehicle backhauls, anyone?
pic of the green dollars from here (worth reading, BTW)
Monday, December 15, 2008
Buying Locally Grown - No matter how far you have to drive
I don't go out looking for this stuff. Salon.com emails it to me every morning.....
How I Seduced My Neighbors Into Going Green - By James Glave
I didn't want to be an eco-jerk. So I consulted a "global warming negotiator." That's when the fun began.
James Glave is a good writer. Lives in British Colombia. He's a good photographer (here's his Flickr photostream). But he apparently developed an obsession with the CO2 emissions required to power his neighbor's yard lighting.
Five of them (floodlights) were mounted across the front of his house. I had not inspected them up close but each likely contained a 65-watt incandescent bulb. As far as I could discern, they illuminated his front yard for no particular reason..... But those five beacons across the way were still doing atmospheric damage. I had already done the math on what we might delicately call my neighbor's nocturnal emissions, and as best as I could calculate, the lamps were kicking up something in the range of 95 pounds of carbon dioxide a year.
In the grand scheme of things, that's atmospheric chump change. It is the equivalent of about three return trips to Grandma's house in my father-in-law's hand-me-down Lexus SUV, and I easily find ways to justify those excursions. Hell, I probably endanger more polar bears just by vacuuming the house and doing my laundry, which amasses around my house in great fuzzy piles like Tribbles on the Starship Enterprise.
It was unfair of me to pick on my neighbor, whom I shall call David. But there was something about his all-night Light Show for Nobody that I couldn't quite keep my mouth shut about. In my head, his lamps had come to symbolize all the little things we all could be doing to save ourselves from extinction if we only knew better. If each of us took all the baby steps to overcome unconscious bad habits we didn't even know we had, we could dial back the planetary thermostat. We could unleash staggeringly good changes.
James, to his eternal credit, doesn't want to be an eco-jerk. He admits that he can't bring too much righteous indignation to bear on the outrage in his neighbor's yard, since JAMES IS RUNNING AROUND TOWN IN A LEXUS SUV. (I'm betting that the neighbor has a bigger house, bigger yard, and makes the most money. The people of my acquaintance who want "Change" generally want The Change to apply mostly to those who are one or two notches up the food chain.... I could be wrong.)
But how does one bring neighbors into a state of SUV-driving, yet floodlight extinguishing grace without being offensive and causing them to rebel against The One True Faith?
You bring in a consultant. Yes, a consultant, from Futerra Sustainability Communications. You can read that middle part yourself. The idea of bringing in a damn consultant to get yer damn neighbor to turn off his damn floodlights is too much for me to damn copy. Sorry. Anyway, the consultant, after charging him God Knows What for her services, suggests that James have a neighborhood "green" party. Plus, she says, "Food Helps".
"Food helps," said (the consultant). "Having food and alcohol at a meeting really helps. If you offer a really nice evening, maybe trying a whole load of local foods, and they have eaten your food and drunk your wine, then -- and only then -- do you introduce the idea of changing habits as a group. You could approach it as a challenge to the next town over. But however you approach it, wait until they have eaten your food and drunk your wine. Then they'll feel beholden to you."
If you've read this far, I hate to tell you this, but this is just the introduction. All of that was merely my preliminary throat-clearing, for which I apologize. Now I can get to the point. James lives in British Colombia, and is determined to serve nothing but food produced in British Colombia.
JAMES GOES SHOPPING
I wanted to serve a local dinner. Of course, winter is about the worst time to try such a stunt. But Townsend had told me to make my neighbors comfortable, show them a good time. So I trucked down to my local Whole Foods and asked the butcher for some organic beef that was as regional as possible, within reason.
"All of our beef comes from an open-range ranch in British Columbia," she said, offering me a pamphlet with a picture of what looked like an honest-to-God cowboy on the front. The steer pictured inside looked happy enough; a few dozen of them browsed in a grassy field.
"I'd like to do a roast for about eight people. What are my options?"
"The prime rib is our best cut, lots of marble in the meat," she replied. "That would be very tender, really nice."
"How much?"
"Eight people?" She did the math. "You're looking at about $85."
I like my neighbors, but not that much. "What are my other options?"
"Chuck roast is a leaner cut," she explained. "But it'll be very nice if you cook it for a long time at a low heat."
Sounds easy enough. And at $26, I could afford to buy it, with enough left over for hundred-mile-compliant carrots.
(For the uninitiated, for something to be 100 mile compliant, it has to be grown within 100 miles of the store.)
"Keep a lid on it, keep it moist," she instructed, as she handed it (the roast) over. "You'll do well with that."
Everything in the Whole Foods vegetable section was from California, so I dialed Capers, a natural-foods market a couple miles down the street that I knew specialized in local produce. "We've got Jerusalem artichokes and celery root," the produce manager offered. "Not too much else from around here at this time of year. Everything is sort of finished."
I had no idea what to do with either. "I'll be right over," I said.
Saturday rolled around. I couldn't quite remember, but I think the butcher instructed me to cook the beef for four or five hours at 275 degrees. Dinner was at 7 p.m. I carefully installed my precious planet-friendly roast on the oven's middle rack early in the afternoon. I placed it under a tent of foil with some water in the pan. A couple of hours later, as delicious aromas filled the kitchen, it was time to check on the meat's progress toward perfection. I extracted the evening's piece de resistance, pulled back the foil, and stuck my friend chuck with a meat thermometer.
Hope turned to dread as the red needle instantly zoomed past "beef-rare," "beef-medium," and "beef-well." Like a runaway boxcar, the thermometer's pointer only picked up speed from there. It moved onto other animals, rocketing right through "lamb" and barely pausing at "poultry." Finally, the gauge ran out of livestock options altogether and, after pulling a double-jointed full rotation, came to rest off the scale, in an unmarked zone that should properly be labeled tanned goods.
In panic, I reached for my mobile and dialed Beef 911. My wife, Elle, answered, and after listening to me describe the symptoms, pronounced the roast dead over the phone. "It's lunch meat," she said, clearly disgusted with me. "Go get something else and start over."
I hopped in the SUV and drove to my island's gourmet butcher shop. There I shelled out $60 for a prime rib roast from Alberta, for eight people, proving once again that when it comes to sustainable consumption, you can always do it almost right the second time -- for more than what it would've cost you from the beginning.
The meal was a success. Everyone had a great time. The neighbor voluntarily turned off his prison-yard floodlights.
But at what cost? In parts of this essay, James is poking fun at his own inefficiency. In other parts, I think he's unknowningly "showing" more than he's "telling".
For instance, what are the environmental implications of cooking a roast for a long, long, long time over low heat, as compared to yard floodlights? Especially when you could've served something pre-cooked, like Spam?
Second, James was at the O So Politically Correct Whole Foods Market, but their produce was from shipped in from Politically Incorrect California. The fact that the California produce was grown, harvested, shipped, and unloaded in one of the most efficient processes devised by humans doesn't matter. It's not "local". So James admits in an essay read by millions of people on Salon.com, he admits, without a gun pointed at his head, he declares that he hopped in an SUV that weighs somewhere between 2,000 and 8,00 pounds and uses that thing to drive his righteous butt A COUPLE OF MILES DOWN THE STREET, and I assume A COUPLE OF MILES BACK so he can do the right thing and buy local produce. The freight costs on shipping an identical amount of produce in bulk shipping containers from Taiwan to British Columbia would be lower than that.
Jesus Christ Almighty.
Then you get into the multiple trips for the meat, which are merely funny.
So here's my question: I don't know how much of this is James poking fun at his environmentalist pretensions, and how much of this is cluelessness. I honestly don't.
Because every conversation that I have with a locavore makes me think that they don't have any idea how to look at true freight and shipping costs.
There's little or no difference between the James Glave comedy of errors and the locavore behavior that I see every day. They insist on locally grown food, and don't care how far they have to drive to get it.
Unbelieveable.
**************************
On a slightly related note, here's something from "Environmental Science And Technology"
The researchers looked at the total life cycle of greenhouse gases emitted to produce the food consumed by an average American household. It turns out that transportation as a whole is not the main offender. It accounts for about 11 percent of those food-related emissions, with only 4 percent in the final delivery stage from producer to retailer. Agricultural and production practices are responsible for almost all the rest.
Here's a chart of how "all the rest" breaks out:
How I Seduced My Neighbors Into Going Green - By James Glave
I didn't want to be an eco-jerk. So I consulted a "global warming negotiator." That's when the fun began.
James Glave is a good writer. Lives in British Colombia. He's a good photographer (here's his Flickr photostream). But he apparently developed an obsession with the CO2 emissions required to power his neighbor's yard lighting.
Five of them (floodlights) were mounted across the front of his house. I had not inspected them up close but each likely contained a 65-watt incandescent bulb. As far as I could discern, they illuminated his front yard for no particular reason..... But those five beacons across the way were still doing atmospheric damage. I had already done the math on what we might delicately call my neighbor's nocturnal emissions, and as best as I could calculate, the lamps were kicking up something in the range of 95 pounds of carbon dioxide a year.
In the grand scheme of things, that's atmospheric chump change. It is the equivalent of about three return trips to Grandma's house in my father-in-law's hand-me-down Lexus SUV, and I easily find ways to justify those excursions. Hell, I probably endanger more polar bears just by vacuuming the house and doing my laundry, which amasses around my house in great fuzzy piles like Tribbles on the Starship Enterprise.
It was unfair of me to pick on my neighbor, whom I shall call David. But there was something about his all-night Light Show for Nobody that I couldn't quite keep my mouth shut about. In my head, his lamps had come to symbolize all the little things we all could be doing to save ourselves from extinction if we only knew better. If each of us took all the baby steps to overcome unconscious bad habits we didn't even know we had, we could dial back the planetary thermostat. We could unleash staggeringly good changes.
James, to his eternal credit, doesn't want to be an eco-jerk. He admits that he can't bring too much righteous indignation to bear on the outrage in his neighbor's yard, since JAMES IS RUNNING AROUND TOWN IN A LEXUS SUV. (I'm betting that the neighbor has a bigger house, bigger yard, and makes the most money. The people of my acquaintance who want "Change" generally want The Change to apply mostly to those who are one or two notches up the food chain.... I could be wrong.)
But how does one bring neighbors into a state of SUV-driving, yet floodlight extinguishing grace without being offensive and causing them to rebel against The One True Faith?
You bring in a consultant. Yes, a consultant, from Futerra Sustainability Communications. You can read that middle part yourself. The idea of bringing in a damn consultant to get yer damn neighbor to turn off his damn floodlights is too much for me to damn copy. Sorry. Anyway, the consultant, after charging him God Knows What for her services, suggests that James have a neighborhood "green" party. Plus, she says, "Food Helps".
"Food helps," said (the consultant). "Having food and alcohol at a meeting really helps. If you offer a really nice evening, maybe trying a whole load of local foods, and they have eaten your food and drunk your wine, then -- and only then -- do you introduce the idea of changing habits as a group. You could approach it as a challenge to the next town over. But however you approach it, wait until they have eaten your food and drunk your wine. Then they'll feel beholden to you."
If you've read this far, I hate to tell you this, but this is just the introduction. All of that was merely my preliminary throat-clearing, for which I apologize. Now I can get to the point. James lives in British Colombia, and is determined to serve nothing but food produced in British Colombia.
JAMES GOES SHOPPING
I wanted to serve a local dinner. Of course, winter is about the worst time to try such a stunt. But Townsend had told me to make my neighbors comfortable, show them a good time. So I trucked down to my local Whole Foods and asked the butcher for some organic beef that was as regional as possible, within reason.
"All of our beef comes from an open-range ranch in British Columbia," she said, offering me a pamphlet with a picture of what looked like an honest-to-God cowboy on the front. The steer pictured inside looked happy enough; a few dozen of them browsed in a grassy field.
"I'd like to do a roast for about eight people. What are my options?"
"The prime rib is our best cut, lots of marble in the meat," she replied. "That would be very tender, really nice."
"How much?"
"Eight people?" She did the math. "You're looking at about $85."
I like my neighbors, but not that much. "What are my other options?"
"Chuck roast is a leaner cut," she explained. "But it'll be very nice if you cook it for a long time at a low heat."
Sounds easy enough. And at $26, I could afford to buy it, with enough left over for hundred-mile-compliant carrots.
(For the uninitiated, for something to be 100 mile compliant, it has to be grown within 100 miles of the store.)
"Keep a lid on it, keep it moist," she instructed, as she handed it (the roast) over. "You'll do well with that."
Everything in the Whole Foods vegetable section was from California, so I dialed Capers, a natural-foods market a couple miles down the street that I knew specialized in local produce. "We've got Jerusalem artichokes and celery root," the produce manager offered. "Not too much else from around here at this time of year. Everything is sort of finished."
I had no idea what to do with either. "I'll be right over," I said.
Saturday rolled around. I couldn't quite remember, but I think the butcher instructed me to cook the beef for four or five hours at 275 degrees. Dinner was at 7 p.m. I carefully installed my precious planet-friendly roast on the oven's middle rack early in the afternoon. I placed it under a tent of foil with some water in the pan. A couple of hours later, as delicious aromas filled the kitchen, it was time to check on the meat's progress toward perfection. I extracted the evening's piece de resistance, pulled back the foil, and stuck my friend chuck with a meat thermometer.
Hope turned to dread as the red needle instantly zoomed past "beef-rare," "beef-medium," and "beef-well." Like a runaway boxcar, the thermometer's pointer only picked up speed from there. It moved onto other animals, rocketing right through "lamb" and barely pausing at "poultry." Finally, the gauge ran out of livestock options altogether and, after pulling a double-jointed full rotation, came to rest off the scale, in an unmarked zone that should properly be labeled tanned goods.
In panic, I reached for my mobile and dialed Beef 911. My wife, Elle, answered, and after listening to me describe the symptoms, pronounced the roast dead over the phone. "It's lunch meat," she said, clearly disgusted with me. "Go get something else and start over."
I hopped in the SUV and drove to my island's gourmet butcher shop. There I shelled out $60 for a prime rib roast from Alberta, for eight people, proving once again that when it comes to sustainable consumption, you can always do it almost right the second time -- for more than what it would've cost you from the beginning.
The meal was a success. Everyone had a great time. The neighbor voluntarily turned off his prison-yard floodlights.
But at what cost? In parts of this essay, James is poking fun at his own inefficiency. In other parts, I think he's unknowningly "showing" more than he's "telling".
For instance, what are the environmental implications of cooking a roast for a long, long, long time over low heat, as compared to yard floodlights? Especially when you could've served something pre-cooked, like Spam?
Second, James was at the O So Politically Correct Whole Foods Market, but their produce was from shipped in from Politically Incorrect California. The fact that the California produce was grown, harvested, shipped, and unloaded in one of the most efficient processes devised by humans doesn't matter. It's not "local". So James admits in an essay read by millions of people on Salon.com, he admits, without a gun pointed at his head, he declares that he hopped in an SUV that weighs somewhere between 2,000 and 8,00 pounds and uses that thing to drive his righteous butt A COUPLE OF MILES DOWN THE STREET, and I assume A COUPLE OF MILES BACK so he can do the right thing and buy local produce. The freight costs on shipping an identical amount of produce in bulk shipping containers from Taiwan to British Columbia would be lower than that.
Jesus Christ Almighty.
Then you get into the multiple trips for the meat, which are merely funny.
So here's my question: I don't know how much of this is James poking fun at his environmentalist pretensions, and how much of this is cluelessness. I honestly don't.
Because every conversation that I have with a locavore makes me think that they don't have any idea how to look at true freight and shipping costs.
There's little or no difference between the James Glave comedy of errors and the locavore behavior that I see every day. They insist on locally grown food, and don't care how far they have to drive to get it.
Unbelieveable.
**************************
On a slightly related note, here's something from "Environmental Science And Technology"
The researchers looked at the total life cycle of greenhouse gases emitted to produce the food consumed by an average American household. It turns out that transportation as a whole is not the main offender. It accounts for about 11 percent of those food-related emissions, with only 4 percent in the final delivery stage from producer to retailer. Agricultural and production practices are responsible for almost all the rest.
Here's a chart of how "all the rest" breaks out:
Enjoy the guilt. Or eat whatever you want to eat at the lowest price possible. You're probably wasting less resources that way.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
"The Jewel of Medina", Sherry Jones, Random House, and Censorship in the name of safety
Here's something about an act of intimidation, censorship, political correctness, and whichever fourth horse of the apocalypse you want to add. I worked in the Literary Retail industry (which puts a premium on Free Speech) for quite a while, and this kind of thing makes me sick. US publishers cancel book on Prophet Mohammed's wife
NEW YORK (AFP) — A US publisher has cancelled the publication of a novel about the youngest wife of the Muslim prophet Mohammed amid a growing controversy over the book.
"The Jewel of Medina," a debut novel by journalist Sherry Jones about Mohammed's child bride A'isha had been due for release in the United States last week.
Random House is the publisher that now puts out "The Satanic Verses" by Sir Salman Rushdie. I wonder how long they're going to keep that one in print.
But publisher Random House released her from the contract amid the controversy and her agent said Jones is now looking for a publisher in another country to pick up the rights.
"Random House made the decision to cancel its US publication of the novel 'The Jewel of Medina' after much deliberation and with great reluctance," a statement from the publisher sent to AFP said.
This is what the whimper of whipped dogs sounds like. Listen closely. You'll be hearing more of it during the next decade.
"The decision was based on advice from scholars of Islam, among several creditable sources, that publication of this book might be offensive to some in the Muslim community and could incite acts of violence by a small, radical segment."
Mark Steyn's book "America Alone" was widely ridiculed for predicting this type of organized sensitivity. Then Steyn's book was banned in Canada. By Canadians who sit on "Human Rights Commissions" and believe that if the head of someone's religion marries a 12-year old, the delicate sensitivity of the adherents of that religion trump the free speech/free press rights of everyone else.
(I'm not talking about Mormon fundamentalist Rulon Jeffs and his 12-year old fiance, either.)
Reports said Monday that a Serbian distributor, BeoBooks, had ordered bookshops to remove from bookshelves some 1,000 printed copies of a local edition of the novel under pressure from Islamic leaders.
And let us go and do likewise. We should ask ourselves more often...."What would the Serbs do in this situation?"
Mufti Muamer Zukorlic, one of Serbia's main Islamic leaders, had compared the book with the controversial Danish cartoons that sparked Muslim outrage and violent protests when published in 2005.
"This is a work that absolutely stopped at nothing in order to desecrate something that all Muslims hold sacred," Zukorlic said in a report by the Serbian broadcaster B92.
The controversial Danish cartoons weren't controversial. A small group of Sand Preachers tried to make them controversial. At first they failed. They tried again. They failed. Then they had someone draw a cartoon of Mohammed with the body of a pig, which turned out to be an AP photograph of a French pig-squealing contest, and added it to their collection of offensive material. Then, and only then, did they succeed in creating "controversy".
Random House added that it stood "firmly by our responsibility to support our authors and the free discussion of ideas, even those that may be construed as offensive by some.
"However, we must weigh that responsibility against others that it also bears, and in this instance we decided not to go forward with this publication out of concerns for the author, employees of Random House, booksellers, and anyone else who would be involved in distribution and sale of the novel."
"However, we must weigh that responsibility against others that it also bears, and in this instance we decided not to go forward with this publication out of concerns for the author, employees of Random House, booksellers, and anyone else who would be involved in distribution and sale of the novel."
Disregard the fact that those two sentences are total contradictions of each other. Disregard the weasel phrase "those that MAY be construed as offensive to SOME". Go ahead and say what you're afraid of. Say it. Say it. Awww....Never mind.
This is the whimper of whipped dogs.
Jones, writing in the PostGlobal blog moderated by Newsweek magazine and the Washingtonpost.com, said she had been stunned when Random House told her a university professor had warned the company of possible reprisals if the book were published.
A university professor warned them? A representative from our last bastion of free speech, diverse opinions, respect for the views of others, and tolerance of the "other"? Say it ain't so.
She added that she had expected to stir some controversy as her novel was about "women's empowerment, never a popular theme among fundamentalists of any faith."
But Jones wrote: "Given the respect with which I treat the Muslim prophet, however, I never expected to be killed because of it. I still don't."
Well, they sure killed your book.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
The Banality of Evil, Ezra Levant, The Alberta Human Rights Commission, and unh.... Iowahawk???
A political correctness tribunal called "The Alberta Human Rights Commission" has made the mistake of hauling in a blogger named Ezra Levant. Click here for my bewildered ravings about an organization like the Alberta HRC existing in the 21st century.
Levant's crime?
Speaking against Islam.
Criticizing The Religion of Peace carries the death penalty in some places, but Ezra Levant obviously doesn't regret his actions. But the bureaucratic twit who is presiding over Levant's hearing definitely regrets coming to work the day of Levant's hearing.
Iowahawk has done a great service to humanity by linking video excerpts from the hearings (already on YouTube) and other info on Levant. If you watch one of the videos, you're going to watch all the others. And then Iowahawk asks himself...."What is the bureaucratic twit writing on her legal pad?" It's the best satire of this century.
One of the many people who've linked to the Iowahawk posting made reference to "The Banality of Evil".
Here's a concise definition of the concept, from Information Clearinghouse:
But is she "a rather ordinary individual who simply accepts the premises of her state and participates in the enterprise with the energy of a good bureaucrat?" In other words, is she just doing her job?
Absolutely.
Levant's crime?
Speaking against Islam.
Criticizing The Religion of Peace carries the death penalty in some places, but Ezra Levant obviously doesn't regret his actions. But the bureaucratic twit who is presiding over Levant's hearing definitely regrets coming to work the day of Levant's hearing.
Iowahawk has done a great service to humanity by linking video excerpts from the hearings (already on YouTube) and other info on Levant. If you watch one of the videos, you're going to watch all the others. And then Iowahawk asks himself...."What is the bureaucratic twit writing on her legal pad?" It's the best satire of this century.
One of the many people who've linked to the Iowahawk posting made reference to "The Banality of Evil".
Here's a concise definition of the concept, from Information Clearinghouse:
The concept of the banality of evil came into prominence following the publication of Hannah Arendt's 1963 book Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil, which was based on the trial of Adolph Eichmann in Jerusalem. Arendt's thesis was that people who carry out unspeakable crimes, like Eichmann, a top administrator in the machinery of the Nazi death camps, may not be crazy fanatics at all, but rather ordinary individuals who simply accept the premises of their state and participate in any ongoing enterprise with the energy of good bureaucrats.Is the woman in the videos a Nazi? A crazy fanatic? Of course not. Is she "evil", based on the definition above? You decide.
But is she "a rather ordinary individual who simply accepts the premises of her state and participates in the enterprise with the energy of a good bureaucrat?" In other words, is she just doing her job?
Absolutely.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Boys With Guns - Dr. Leonard Sax
The January 12th issue of MacLean's has an interview with Dr. Leonard Sax, author of a new book called Boys Adrift.
In addition to advocating separate schools for boys and girls, starting boys a year later in kindergarten, and other hot sports opinions, Dr. Sax lays out this gem:
MacLean's: A lot of schools ban any kind of pretend gun play, sword fighting and so on. Is this bad for boys?
Sax: Policies which ban children from playing with pretend swords or toy guns are not grounded in any research findings demonstrating that those policies accomplish anything good. Prohibiting children from playing with toy swords or guns does not decrease the likelihood of any bad outcome, indeed it accomplishes no useful end. The school could have taken the opportunity to build imaginative play around concepts like teamwork and heroism. Instead, schools too often simply endorse traditional girls' activities while condemning traditional boys' activities.
When asked about "zero tolerance" policies, he goes on: "Zero-tolerance policies essentially say the entire school is out of bounds for anything that smells of boys. The result, too often, is boys who find a vent for those impulses by spending hours sitting in front of their video game consoles, banging away on the game controller."
Or Blogging
In addition to advocating separate schools for boys and girls, starting boys a year later in kindergarten, and other hot sports opinions, Dr. Sax lays out this gem:
MacLean's: A lot of schools ban any kind of pretend gun play, sword fighting and so on. Is this bad for boys?
Sax: Policies which ban children from playing with pretend swords or toy guns are not grounded in any research findings demonstrating that those policies accomplish anything good. Prohibiting children from playing with toy swords or guns does not decrease the likelihood of any bad outcome, indeed it accomplishes no useful end. The school could have taken the opportunity to build imaginative play around concepts like teamwork and heroism. Instead, schools too often simply endorse traditional girls' activities while condemning traditional boys' activities.
When asked about "zero tolerance" policies, he goes on: "Zero-tolerance policies essentially say the entire school is out of bounds for anything that smells of boys. The result, too often, is boys who find a vent for those impulses by spending hours sitting in front of their video game consoles, banging away on the game controller."
Or Blogging
Monday, October 22, 2007
Political Correctness in China
An example of Chinese Political Correctness. They sometimes try so hard, and mess it up so bad. 
This picture is compliments of Grouchy Old Cripple, a blogger in Atlanta who makes me sound like an NPR disk jockey.
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