perfidy

Perfidy crony NDR has been instalanched!

Loyal reader and crony EDog sends this link to a video that is sure to tug on the ol' heartstrings.

That's the title of a magazine I've always wanted to publish, a lifestyle glossy for the jetsetting intellectual working in the humanities.

Whaddaya think?

On that note, two obscure but edifying facts to brighten your day:

• The Muppet Movie (1979) featured the last screen appearance of Edgar Bergen & Charlie McCarthy before their deaths.
• "Nothing" was Elizabethan slang for, well, "pussy." Now the title of Much Ado About Nothing makes a lot more sense.

Oak Island, home of the mysterious money pit, is on sale for $7 million. Rumored to be the resting place of Captain Kidd's or Blackbeard's treasure (or the Templars, or Mayans, or other pirates, or the British during the Revolutionary War, or space aliens for all I know), it has defied all efforts to penetrate its secrets for over two hundred years, and claimed six lives from those who made the attempt.

In 1795 Daniel McGinnis discovered a circular depression, above which was a branch that looked as though ti had been used as a pully. Mindful of the tales of pirate gold that had surrounded the island for years, he and some friends start digging. Ten feet down, they discovered a layer of oaken planks. Down another ten feet they discovered a second layer of planks. At thirty feet, yet another. Frustrated, they left but vowed to return. They did, and for two centuries they and their successors have remained frustrated.

For ninety feet down, a layer of planks was found every ten feet. But when that last layer was pulled up and digging resumed, a booby trap was sprung. A hidden tunnel began to fill the tunnel with water. By morning, the pit was full to the 33 foot level - local sea level. Many have tried to dig parallel tunnels, but all have been defeated by the ingenious design of the unknown group that created this puzzle.

Since the first discovery, inscriptions in code, perplexing clues and hints of treasure have kept explorers going despite the deaths over the years. There may be a large cave below the pit, and there are at least two flood tunnels designed to keep whatever is at the bottom safe. Research has uncovered evidence of the construction of the tunnels, and drilling has reportedly revealed the existence of wood casks, parchment writing, concrete vaults and more.

At seven mil, this sounds like a bargain. If there is in fact two million pounds of gold at the bottom, that would more than recoup the initial investment. And if it really was the Knights Templar hiding their gold from the French King, just think how cool that would be.

Here's a nice piece on the gunpowder plot, now four hundred years in the past, but still a good excuse to blow shit up.

Walking around town over lunch, I ran into a protest happening at McPherson Square. There, right under the General's Horse's Ass, were a bunch of people in red hats shouting a lot. So far, so typical. Goofy sartorial choices go hand in hand with loud shouting in DC. As I got close enough to read the signs, I became sorely befuddled. For the signs read something like this:

Which seemed to me like Bush was fighting AIDS, and these people would like it if he'd just stop. This message was in stark contrast to the rather fey appearance of most of the protestors.

The group sponsoring the protest can be found here, but I found no evidence of the mysterious signs at their site. Sadly, I didn't have my phone with me, else I would have snapped a few pics.

Then, when I finally arrived at the Chinese buffet, I noticed for the first time that behind the counter was displayed a Kimber Mfg. calendar. Kimber, as in the firearms manufacturer responsible for my own personal weapon, the Kimber Custom .45ACP. A weapon that, I might add, is fully illegal for Chinese restaurateurs in DC to own.

And Friday, the smelliest bum I have ever encountered assaulted another, less smelly bum right outside my office. This match-up was not as impressive as those offered by Bumfights empresssario (and now felon) xxx, but I did see the less loathsome bum do about a 4.5 40 trying to escape either a) his opponent's fearsome martial arts skills; or b) the aftermath of said bum's use of his own pants as a porta-john. Two police officers and several security guards did nothing but smile patronizingly. Eventually, one of the building maintenance staff came along and hosed down the spot where the violent bum had been standing.

And one of these days, I will discover the mysteries of 1086 Vermont Ave., NW. I think it may be... a brothel. The prostitutes are usually out on the street over the noon hour, then retire to wherever prostitutes hang out whilst their clients are working; and then stand watch for most of the evening. Some even are still working at six or seven in the morning, or so I have been told. I'm usually not in that early, but I have reliable sources. (The guards at my building.) Apparently there is a brisk trade in illicit sex in the alley behind my office building at all hours of the day.

Well, there are a lot of lobbyists around.

On this day in history...

Male Colorado voters make the morally correct but tactically foolish decision to grant the vote to the women of that state. Twenty-three years later and also on this day, Jeanette Rankin of Montana becomes the first woman elected to the US Congress.

Interestingly, many of the colonies had at least some provision for women voting. New Jersey was the last of these to remove that privilege in 1807. Some states allowed women to vote in school board elections throughout the nineteenth century, and several of the territories preceded Colorado in granting women's suffrage.

I am reminded of a Man Show skit where Adam and the other dude go to a county fair and set up a booth for an "End the Suffrage of Women" movement. Playing on the similarity of the words 'suffrage' and 'suffering.' they convinced several well-meaning but rather dim women to sign. They even got one woman to volunteer to help get signatures. In her defense, she spoke very poor english. But the best part was the reaction of the very few people who actually knew what suffrage is. One elderly gentleman was on the verge of violence. Another, a young protester hippie type woman, patiently tried to explain to the non-english speaker that what she was doing was not a good thing, and that the nice young men were in fact making fun of her.

If I ever find the guy who crapped in my Wheaties this morning, he will be, in the immortal words of Walter Sobchak, entering a world of pain.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am on my first vacation in, oh, five years or so. By vacation I mean a real vacation, sans family. Sure, it's only about 48 hours, but that's enough when the weirdo Protestant work ethic that has its tendrils wrapped around my medulla oblongata like the most relentlessly constructive tumor in the history of man has me busy busy busy nearly every working minute of every working day. (Usually just bullshit stuff like writing or piddling with my hobbies... otherwise I'd rule the world.)

So here I am in Vermont's northeast kingdom, way out here where the hoot owl rapes the chicken, with nothing to do, nowhere to be, and all the hippie-dippie handmade beer, cheese, and meat I can stand. Sure, Goodwyfe Johno has crap to do, but hey... I'm not her.

See you later, suckers.

In honor of the looming pagan bacchanalia, perfidy presents to you this wonderful pumpkin carving web thingy devised by the clever yet morally suspect gnomes at Toilette Humor. For your All-Hallows Eve enjoyment, a custom-designed, perfidious Jack-O-Lantern:

Loyal Reader #0016, Edog, reminds me of this device, one of those gobsmackingly obvious inventions I've seen in a while. And one of the silliest.

From the FAQs:

Q: "Is there a battery attachment?"
A: No. The Banana Guard was designed for its intended purpose only as a device to prevent banana trauma during transport.

(Is it any wonder they're Canadian?)

Of course, I've been trying to remind myself for months to order a couple of these for me and Goodwyfe Johno so we can commute with bananas. It's all about priorities, people! Hats off to Edog!

Robert Prather and Insults Unpunished are back from their lengthy hiatus. (Thanks to Kathy for the heads up. We probably owe her money.) Glad to see that he's back, and Sgt. Hook, too.

Robert has a post on peak oil that is kind of a complement to my recent post on abiogenic petroleum. Even if all the oil we'll ever have is what we know about now, it's still not the end of human civilization.

EDog happened upon an interesting web game. Using Google's marvelous image search, search on the following items, and post the first image returned. 

The town where you were born

[The rest are below the fold.] 
The town where you live now

I forgot to enter the state. This cool map was near the top of the list when I added Virginia:

Your name

This guy was apparently at Kent State the same time I was going to school only twenty miles away. If I enter my blognomen, I get:

Your grandmother's name (Pick one)

My grandmother didn't look like that. At any point in her life.

Your favorite food

I cheated. This was actually image number three. But it's much more amusing than the first one.

Your favorite drink

My second favorite drink retrieved another cool image:

Your favorite song

Your favorite smell

Thanks to the unwinking eye of James at Hell in a Handbasket, I have learned what my nom de net really means:

• Bloodthirsty? I'm a conservative. Check.
• Unholy? I don't know. I'm at least abholy. Check.
• Cheerleader-Kidnapping? Don't tell my wife. Check.
• Explorer-Torturing? Check. Hate the nosy bastards.
• Horror? Sure.
• Enchanted Arcane Dungeon? Well I don't know about all that magical stuff, but my office is cramped and smelly. Check.

[wik] But then I got to thinking. What do some common acronyms really mean?

• CIA Cheerleader-Injuring Abomination
• IRS Injuring Ravager of Spite
• NSA Nightmare Spurred by Anger
• NOAA Nefarious Orphan-Abducting Abomination

Fun for the whole family. 

[wik] The Ministry of Future Perfidy attempted to find the image that was lost to bit rot, but you don't want to see what we found.

I could call it "Late Summer Lentil Vegetable Medley made with heirloom tomatoes, native leeks, Sugar Snack carrots, and Red Russian Kale" but at the end of the day it's the same goddamn lentils with greens and barley I eat for lunch five days a week anyway.

Good though.

Or, perhaps more fittingly, "Now that your picture's in the paper being rhythmically admired, you can have anyone that you ever desired."

Protein Wisdom does some Photoshop magic on an old Elvis Costello album cover that really just sort of nails where the President's at right now and makes me feel funny down inside.
 

Dude, have you seen my bag?

I don't suppose the preponderance of Texans we count among our member- and readership will have much use for this recipe, but for those of you in more northerly climes, this is recipe comes directly from my heart to you. It is a fairly simple* fall and winter soup, perfect for those nights when you can get a pleasant buzz on and fart a lot at home contentedly while the freezing wind whips the trees outside.

Vegetable Borscht with Barley

This simple vegetarian vegetable soup has a surprising depth of flavor - earthy, sweet, green, warm, and tangy. It is almost more like a stew than a soup as presented, thanks to the amount of vegetables. If you want a thinner soup, feel free to add more stock and kick up the dill and caraway a tiny bit to amplify their flavor. I like it this way, though. It takes me back to an imagined ancestry in the great sweep of Eastern Europe from Swabia and Poland all the way to Romania, sort of a Swabopolskiczechohungariromanimoldovan cuisine. Or just call it Fake Transylvanian for short. Stay tuned for my Thai-Italian fusion cuisine!

If you wish to use canned beets, you can, but nothing tops roasted beets for complexity. Frozen vegetables are absolutely okay in this soup, but be sure to par-cook any greens beforehand so they don't make the soup bitter.

3 medium carrots, diced
3 stalks celery, diced
2 large onions, diced
6 cloves garlic, minced (vary to taste)
2 tsp dill seeds
1/2 tsp caraway seeds
1 tsp dried thyme (more if stock contains no thyme)
1/2 cup hulled barley (the brown stuff preferably, not pearl)
6-8 cups lightly- or un-salted beef, chicken, or vegetable stock or water (at least some of which stock)
1 medium head green cabbage, shredded
6 medium beets (total 8-12 oz), roasted, peeled & diced
other vegetables as desired: green beans, turnips, turnip greens, kale, etc., I wouldn't use potatoes but you certainly may)
1/2 bunch parsley, finely chopped
1 T vinegar, red wine or cider
salt
pepper
vegetable oil

Heat oil in a large saucepan over medium-high heat and add carrots, celery, onions, garlic, and 1/2 tsp salt. Sweat until onions are translucent, about 7 minutes. Add caraway, dill, and thyme, reduce heat a bit, and cook about 5 minutes more.

Add liquid and barley. Bring to a boil and reduce heat to simmer for 1 hour, stirring occasionally.

Add cabbage, beets, and other vegetables and cook for about 20 minutes more. If necessary, add more liquid to cover. Adjust salt at this time.

Add pepper, vinegar, and parsley and cook 5 minutes. Taste and adjust one last time before serving.

This recipe could easily be converted for omnivores by the addition of maybe a pound of cubed stew meat browned in the pan prior to adding the aromatics and cooking until tender prior to adding the cabbage.

Serve with, oh, maybe a side of potato or sauerkraut pierogis fried with onions, or bread and butter and cheese, plus definitely lots of cold beer or Reisling for an authentically faux-Eastern Bloc experience. Now I'm hungry.

[wik] * About that word, simple. Of course this recipe is simple; it's a soup! But like so many things, "simple" doesn't necessarily mean the same thing as "easy." Stir-fries are simple, but the entire vocabulary of cooking them is fundamentally different than what Western cooks innately do. And baguettes- they are one of the easiest recipes for good bread going, but they sure aren't simple. Chess is easy too. Bouillabaisse isn't that hard, but there sure as hell is a trick to getting it to taste anything like the sublime fish soup of coastal France.

And, I suppose, no recipe is simple if you don't have a sense of how big "dice" should be, or what "salt to taste" means when you're standing over the pot with the saltshaker, or what a simmer is. So, I take it back, the word "simple."

[alsø wik] Comrade Hall asks how to roast beets. Easy! First, you need to kill your beets. As unfortunate as this is, beet flesh deteriorates very rapidly after death, so you must buy live ones. They are fast, slippery and surprisingly strong little buggers with a lot of fight in them, so this is often a challenge. The traditional method is to stuff one into a sack, grab it by the tail, and beat its head against a hard surface until it stops fighting. Then beat it some more because the treacherous little bastard might be faking. Then, the gutting. Trust me; the payoff for all this is delicious.

Oh wait, wait. Sorry, that was eels.

Beets.

First you need to kill your beets.

No. Damn.

Always buy beets with the greens attached. If the greens are sturdy and healthy, you've got to vegetables for the price of one. If not, they are still a guarantee that the roots are strong and fresh and not old, woody, and tasteless. For this recipe, one or two "bunches" will do, whatever your market or local dirt farmer calls a "bunch."

Remove the greens, leaving 1/2 to 1 inch of stem. Set greens aside to cook or pitch as necessary. Scrub beets gently to remove clinging dirt (though you will eventually peel them, dirt on the beets can contribute a dirty flavor (as opposed to earthy) to the final product) and pat dry. Do not peel at this time. Place beets on a layer of foil. At this point, if desired you can hit them with a little vegetable oil to promote fast cooking**. You can also slip some thyme and salt and pepper in the mix if so desired. I usually don't. Fold the beets up well into a rough packet, whatever you can manage. If you must divide the beets into two separate packets in order to close the foil around the beets, do so. Repeat with a second layer of foil, making sure that the beets are tightly wrapped - we want the steam, for the most part, to stay in. This goes double for the sugar-rich purple juices which will blacken in a second if they get free into the oven, and will stain the hell out of your clothes, hot-pads, and anything else they come near.

Place your double-wrapped beets on a baking sheet and place in a well-preheated (which means, "at temperature for at least 20 minutes with the door closed") 350-degree oven. Beets always take longer than you expect, so smallish to medium size ones will take about an hour, and very large ones can go 90 minutes or more. They are done when a paring knife penetrates to the middle with practically no resistance. (Beets will tend to stay a little harder than other vegetables thanks to their cell-wall makeup.)

Remove from oven, and cool until you can handle them. Then, under running water slip the skins right off with your fingers. Voila.

In case that was too much info, here's the executive summary:
Cut off greens
Scrub
Wrap tightly in double layer of foil
350 degrees, 1 hour to 90 minutes
Cool, peel, enjoy.

** As you know, fats transfer heat more efficiently than water or air. So, by rubbing the skins of the beets with fat you are theoretically aiding the transfer of heat from the oven to the interior of the vegetable. Whether or not this effect is detectable in shortened cooking time is debatable. It probably helps a bit. On the other hand, always oil your baked taters, because the skin will turn out nice and browned and chewy, all of which probably does help the potato's inside to cook.

This last Saturday, for the second time this calendar year, a doctor has said to me, "congratulations, we have ruled out any possibility of autoimmune disorders."

How frigging random is that?

A happy Rosh Hashana to our Jewish readers and friends! And Wednesday marks Ee'e'eee'e'e'neee, the dolphin festival of liberation from their shark overlords several millennia ago. A happy week to all, our Semitic and our aquatic friends alike!