perfidy

I guess killing all those cats caught up to him.

Truth is, walking around a New England January in a t-shirt, and sweating, is DOWNRIGHT UNNATURAL, like Zima, Cirque de Soleil, and obese men in Speedos.

Bush Finds Error In Fermilab Calculations

BATAVIA, IL-Bush, who describes himself as "something of an armchair physicist," said that anyone could have made that mistake.

Just for Buckethead. Well, that, plus it's kind of funny, in a "blast from the past" sort of way.

I'm not one to make a habit of endless posts about the cuteness of my children. I mean, they are cute and all. I just don't want to belabor the point. But yesterday, the boy and I were in the car and had some interesting conversation.

the boy: There are good aliens, and bad aliens.
me: really?
the boy: Yes! And if the bad aliens come, we'll be in trouble.
me: I should think so.
the boy: But when the bad aliens come, the good aliens will come and fight them.
me: That's reassuring. What will we do when this happens?
the boy: Well, if our car breaks down and we get a flat tire, the good aliens will help us fix it
me: An Alien Auto Club?
the boy: Yes! That's true.

A little later, we drove by an accident scene, with four or five fire trucks, plus an assortment of police cars, ambulances and the like. Couldn't see what actually caused the ruckus. That led to this:

the boy: Can you sing the fire truck rescue song?
me: I don't know that one. How does it go?
the boy: [tuneless hum, then...] Why are you up on that house, anyway?

Always a good question. But then back to the aliens:

the boy: Where are the aliens, Daddy?
me: if there are aliens, they're probably on a planet around another star. Or in Hollywood.
the boy: They're on their way here.
me: Okay. When will they get here.
the boy: They'll get here tomorrow.
me: We should get ready then.
the boy: Yeah!

That led into a long rambling discussion about the difference between talking and non-talking, and good and bad aliens. He broke them down into the four possible combinations, and - I think - analyzed our proper reaction to the presence of each. But it's hard to tell.

To the little shit who stole my credit card number:

You should have gone for the big bucks while you could, you unimaginative mouthbreather. $11.99 to Paypal? $100 to DirectTV? One... fercryin... dollar to YahooWallet? Skype?!? Too bad I check my balances every couple days, and here you thought you'd nickel and dime me along to finance your crabbed little scriptkiddie lifestyle. You Skype-using unclefucker. Chances are slim that our paths will ever cross, but if they do, you better pray it's a day on which I'm suffering an excess of mercy.

That is all.

My mom sent me this photo she took when she was up over the holidays. I had to share:

Our baby girl is amazed at her world.

[wik] The Ministry of Future Perfidy reports in late 2025 that that crab still exists, and is still lovingly referred to as, "The Hippy Crab."

In today's Washington Post, this story: "FBI Reports Duct-Taping, 'Baptizing' at Guantanamo"

Duct-taping a guy's head? That's kind of harsh.

In another incident that month, interrogators wrapped a bearded prisoner's head in duct tape "because he would not stop quoting the Koran," according to an FBI agent, the documents show. The agent, whose account was corroborated by a colleague, said that a civilian contractor laughed about the treatment and was eager to show it off.

The "civilian contractor" sounds like an asshole, and a mildly sadistic one, to boot. I'd bet it hurt like a bitch when the tape was taken off. At least they didn't cut his head off with a dull hacksaw. But if he wouldn't stop quoting the Koran (which I'm sure got quite old & tiresome for the interrogators to hear), why didn't they just spray alum in his mouth? That's seemed to work in the Looney Toons episodes I've seen where it's been used.

The parts of the story that make me scratch my head, however, are those where the circumstances are more comical.

FBI agents witnessed possible mistreatment of the Koran at the military prison at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, including at least one instance in which an interrogator squatted over Islam's holy text in an apparent attempt to offend a captive, according to bureau documents released yesterday.

In October 2002, a Marine captain allegedly squatted over a copy of the Koran during intensive questioning of a Muslim prisoner, who was "incensed" by the tactic, according to an FBI agent. A second agent described similar events, but it is unclear from the documents whether it was a separate case.

Sounds to me like the Marine captain can claim his mission accomplished, and good for him. At least he didn't cut his subject's head off with a dull hacksaw.

The "baptism" sounds like comedy gold to me.

In a previously unreported allegation, one interrogator bragged to an FBI agent that he had forced a prisoner to listen to "Satanic black metal music for hours," then dressed as a Catholic priest before "baptizing" him.

The "Satanic black metal music", like the duct tape, seems a bit much, and bragging about it is bush-league, but putting your collar on backwards and spraying a guy with water that, by that guy's belief system, is just water, while telling him he's been put through a ritual he clearly believes has no meaning, and having this amount to some sort of an outrage is cartoonish. At least they didn't baptize him with pig's blood. Or cut his head off with a dull hacksaw.

This story is a continuation of an older theme, of course:

The reports amount to new and separate allegations of religiously oriented tactics used against Muslim prisoners at Guantanamo Bay. After an erroneous report of Koran abuse prompted deadly protests overseas in 2005, the U.S. military conducted an investigation that confirmed five incidents of intentional and unintentional mishandling the book at the detention facility. They acknowledged that soldiers and interrogators had kicked the Koran, had stood on it and, in one case, had inadvertently sprayed urine on a copy.

Poor bunnies! These incidents, along with those in earlier reports of "sexually suggestive" interrogation techniques, help me to better understand some of the concern about more physically coercive methods of questioning that have been used.

If all it takes to get these detainees to go off the rails is to fake dropping a deuce on their "holy book", or to violate the "three foot rule" one might find in a low-grade Atlanta gentlemen's club, then of course one could question physical coercion - who needs such extreme tactics in the face of detainees with severe critical thinking deficits and unresolved "mommie issues"?

The fact that such things, particularly the absurd veneration of copies of the Koran, (copies, mind you - I'd cut them some slack for their outrage if someone took a leak on the original) can so easily trigger "deadly protests" is by itself an indication of a belief system that's seriously askew. For clarification, I'd point the interested reader to a scholarly essay from September 2001, "God Angrily Clarifies 'Don't Kill' Rule".

I question, pretty aggressively, the perceived need to apologize for, or to even explain, any of the reported incidents. And, on the bright side, I remind myself again that in each case, at least nobody got his head cut off with a dull hacksaw.

In the absence of any real ideas, penetrating insights on the events of the day, or for that matter, even any good dick jokes, I am reduced to my penultimate resort. Answering questions posed by other blogs. (My ultimate resort is reviving the state motto or actual facts series.)

The Maximum Leader is a good source of questions. With his aid, I can make pretend that I am a real blogger. For example, just today, ML posed this existential quandary:

Your Maximum Leader riddles you this: Suppose you are a native Northeasterner who has retired to South Florida, you scrimp and save and buy a trailer on the shore to live our your days in heaven's waiting room. Then one day a developer comes and offers you (cue Dr. Evil voice) One Million Dollars to sell your trailer on the shore. What do you do?

This hypothetical situation is counter to my nature in several ways. First, I hate Florida. I would never in a million years move there willingly. Unless of course, sometime in the next million years there was an ice age, or Florida detached itself from Georgia and moved northwards a good bit; and ceased to be a pestilential, overly-humid, bug and lizard infested hellhole. Second, that a lifetime of saving and planning would provide me with only enough resources to buy a trailer, or, having that much cash, that I would buy a trailer anyway, rather than a honest shotgun shack. Third, that I am a native Northeasterner. I am a Midwesterner, and fiercely proud of it. Or at least, not afraid of mentioning it.

But, let us for the sake of argument and this post, assume that a retiring Buckethead, with all the little bucketheads out on their own, has cashed in his savings and bought a trailer (gasp!) in Florida (double plus gasp!). This plan has the one saving grace of locating Mr. and Mrs. Buckethead by the ocean, where at least we can smell dead fish.

The evil developer arrives to save the day, I mean, cheat me of my lifelong dream of sandy senescence. Would I succumb to the tentacles of his greedy plan? In the context of the hypothetical, that’s a tough one. If, by chance and cruel fate I ended up living in a trailer in Florida and someone offered me one meelion dollars, I’d take it in a hot minute and kiss the guy’s feet. Then I’d move somewhere cooler and less susceptible to coriolis storms.

But, again, assuming that this was my dream destination, I’d offer a qualified yes. I’d take the money, and use it to buy another trailer further down the coast. A nicer trailer, a doublewide; and get me a nice 4x4; and mebbe an RV so’s me and the missus can travel around the country and complain at people. The sea looks the same pretty much from any vantage point in Florida, so I can’t imagine that I’d be that attached to any one spot.

I have relatives that moved to the Florida Panhandle, near Pensacola. The bubbas in that region have been slowly moving inland, thanks to over generous offers from developers. The builders give the bubbas large amounts of cash, the bubbas move their trailers inland and buy new trucks. So long as they’re still on water – lagoon, river, whatnot, they seem to be happy.

With careful planning, even, you could get bought out multiple times.

Now, to turn this question around. If I were living in my dream house, and someone offered me a million dollars to move, the answer would in all likelihood be no. My dream house is in the mountains – or hills, at least – a forested wonderland of fifty or more acres, with a beautifully sited stone house overlooking a pleasant and undeveloped valley. This house might even have been built with my own hands. It will be custom designed, with secret passages, lots of built in bookshelves, and a turret. It would be my paradise.

If a developer tried to get me out of that, I’d fight tooth and nail. I’d not only turn down his offer, but get all grassroots on his ass and make sure he didn’t build anywhere near me.

Interestingly, ML mentions Carl Hiassen, whose book Basket Case I just started reading yesterday afternoon. I’d never heard of the guy before Friday, when my mom recommended him. So off I went to my local used book store and found one. Good so far.

I hope it is not too late to wish you, our dear readers, a Happy New Year. I sincerely hope that 2007 has already proved to be prosperous, enjoyable and relaxing for you, and that it will continue to be for the next 363 days. Hell, let’s just wish everyone a pleasant and nice 2008, 2009 and 2010 while we’re at it and put paid to the entire rest of the decade. Happy New Years!

The new year is too recent, yet, to have served up much in the way of disappointments or surprises yet. But I am confident that 2007 will prove to be as exciting and loaded with days as was 2006. In fact, I believe that 2007 will be a banner year. An anus mirabilis, if you will.

What will the new year hold for us? Well, a quick glance about the internets will reveal any number of predictions. A surplus of predictions, if we’re being honest. So what harm would there be in piling on just a little, and offering some predictions of our own? Not much, I think, and those who might be harmed will likely not be in any position to complain.

So, here are some predictions for the new year, organized by probability.

Near Certainties:

• Saddam Hussein will remain dead
• Fergie will remain talentless (pick a Fergie, it will be true regardless)
• I will be tired of the 2008 presidential campaign by mid Spring
• Patton will continue to pretend to post by using the Onion’s nifty auto-post feature
• I will revive the state motto and actual fact series when I run out of ideas again
• That will be sometime before February

Should Happen:

• Apple will continue to not introduce the iPhone
• Despite making progress in Iraq, it will look like we’ve made no progress whatsoever
• Someone will bomb Iran’s nuclear facilities
• Fidel Castro will die, but continue to rule Cuba
• The world will get a bit warmer, and some Canadian farmers will be happy

Might Happen:

• Wi-Fi enabled Skype phones will totally transform the way people do mobile communications
• North Korea will do the decent thing and collapse, and be absorbed by South Korea with minimal loss of life
• Pat Robertson will personally kill Hugo Chavez with his bare hands
• Putin will stop playing around and get really authoritarian, whilst poisoning half of Europe
• It will be revealed that every single professional athlete is on the juice, and most of the amateur ones, too

Could Happen:

• People will realize that France doesn’t matter, and hasn’t mattered since May of 1940
• President Bush will be assassinated, causing momentary rejoicing in certain quarters. Until they realize that Dick Cheney is now President.
• Intelligent life will be discovered on Earth, and it won’t like us
• Michael Jackson’s comeback will be a resounding success

Out on Limb, Here:

• Aliens will invade, then get their asses kick when Christ and Elvis come back. Only the Amish will survive
• The Illuminati will reveal themselves, citing disgust with the total failure of all their plans, thanks to that meddling jerk, Dan Brown
• Apple will seize 95% of the personal computer market, and then everyone will realize that Bill Gates was a nice guy, right before they go into the reeducation camps
• The Libertarians will field a rational, non-insane candidate for President. Oh, shit, sorry, this is about predictions, not fantasy.
• The Ministry will mount a successful hostile takeover of Instapundit. We will appoint the crack young staff of the Hatemonger’s Quarterly to blog here in our stead.

Almost Certain not to Happen in 2007:

• Hell will freeze over
• The Rapture of the Nerds
• Panopticon surveillance and ubiquitous law enforcement become a reality in the industrialized west. (That’s scheduled for 2008. Smoke ‘em while you can)
• The world will end in fire

There you have it. Some of those things, and many others besides, will be sure to happen this year. We'll check back in December to see how I did.

As the clock tolls the end of the year, after five years of delays, millions of pages of secret, top secret and otherwise classified documents will become unclassified, unsecret and un-top secret.

But in theory if not in immediate practice, what was set in motion by the Clinton administration in 1995 is coming to fruition. Executive Order 12958 declared that in 2000, every classified document 25 years of age or older would be automatically declassified unless the classifying agency had already sought and received that document's exemption (anything that could cause an "identifiable" risk to national security, would violate a person's privacy or involves more than one agency is exempt). After two three-year extensions granted by the Bush administration in response to cries from the CIA, FBI, NSA and other agencies that they didn't have the manpower to review all of their papers in time, the final deadline has arrived. And President Bush is enforcing it.

The FBI alone will be declassifying 270 million pages of heretofore secret material. This is a good thing. While I recognize that keeping secrets is necessary, the government has had a nasty habit of classifying basically anything, regardless of whether it truly needed to be secret. I look forward to seeing what people dig out of this staggeringly large treasure trove.