perfidy

Yarrr, it be National Talk Like A Pirate Day, and be warned, ye lubbers, that me pirate name be Mad John Flint. What be ye's. . . ye,

ye's'er. . .

uh. . . yours . .

er. . .

Fuck it. Check out the funny quiz, you, um. . . scurvy dogs, you . . . something.

Arr.

Just found out that they have shut down the Federal government tomorrow, which means I have the day off. Sweet.

I said I'd link to another BTD post, in recompense for my slothful forgetfulness over the weekend. Which I will do. I was going to link to some commentary I thought useful, or interesting, and offer my own spin on it, in typical blog fashion. However, as I was sifting through the site, I saw that their tribute to Johnny Cash was embarrassingly better than mine. So I will link that, because I spent the weekend listening to the Man in Black whilst painting, and Mrs. Buckethead's band played a Cash cover last night, and I can't get over the fact that he's gone.

Johnny Cash

Last week, I got an email from Greg over at Begging to Differ letting me know that on Sunday they were hosting a webcomicapaloozafestarama. He said he'd send me a link on Sunday which he did; and I said I'd post a link, which I didn't because I am a thoughtless amnesiac mofo. To rectify the situation, I am now posting the link, and a small sample of the delicious comedy goodness that can be found over at Begging to Differ. And, I will also post another link, just so Begging to Differ's blog ecosystem stats go up.

Go here to see the whole shebang, but first absorb the goodness to be found in this comic:

That's from Cox and Forkum (sounds vaguely obscene. That's a good thing for editorial cartoonists, I think.) BTD seems to think that this will be a regular thing, so go back every Sunday to see it.

Last night I watched a documentary about the World Trade Center in New York, from its planning to construction to the present day. It was very interesting, but I didn't really care for the ending.

This morning I found out that Johnny Cash had died. Although I can't say it was unexpected-- he's been sick for years, and June was his heart and soul-- that doesn't make it any less sorrowful.

But today I am boarding the Chinatown Bus for New York for my first pleasure trip there since I moved away in mid-2000. It's the goodwife's birthday this week and I wanted to do something special. I expect to be hammered and look fabulous doing it by 8 PM. That way I'll be in bed before all the G-d D-mned hipsters come out and I won't have to punch anyone.

It's the greatest city in the world. Where else can you get haggis delivered hot to your door at four in the morning?

From Rocket Jones, (by way of Terra Taco) here are a couple links to nifty, neato google tricks:

Here you will discover how to use google as a calculator,

and here you will find a plethora of useful google tips.

I apologize for depriving you all of the blinding light of my reason, the psychic kick to the head of my astounding insights, and the guilty titter that my unique brand of humor induces. However, the capitalist monkey on my back insists that I finish the renovation of my townhome so that I may rent it and so destroy the future and credit rating of some poor worker. This is all justified by the comfortable foam padding it will add to my bottom line.

So, all the paint fumes that I have inhaled over the long labor day weekend while my wife and prog sipped Mint Juleps on the porch have stunted my mental capacities. (Considering how low on the scale you started, have you considered whether mental capacities can go negative? -ed.)

While I make a last dash for the light at the end of the tunnel, praying that it is not an oncoming train and hoping that I can finish the damn house by next weekend, reread all of Johno's excellent posts while I laboriously handknit a couple posts in my limitless spare time.

Apparently, Canadians must present a grim mien to the world in their passprot photos from now on. Smiling is now verboten. But that does not mean that Canadians have license to scowl, frown, grimmace or glower at that camera. That is forbidden as well. Passport applicants must have a neutral expression when they get their mugs photographed. Of course, we live in a world where everything that is not forbidden is compulsory. And that seems to be more true in Canada.

Here is Bodhi, looking pensive on the back porch:

[wik] The Future Ministry has replaced the broken image link with a picture of the same dog, with a different expression.

I see via fark that America's greatest paranoid schitzophrenic non-jazz musician Wesley Willis, has died.

I remember the first time I heard "Rock and Roll McDonald's." It was an epiphanic experience. Long may he rock.

Be a Pepper. Drink Dr. Pepper.

Skipping through the blogosphere, I see that I am nearly alone in defending the ten commandments in Alabama. Which I find odd, given that I am not particularly religious. It just seems to me that Christianity is given little respect from the left, and from the chattering classes. Whenever the faith dares poke its head above ground, it is roundly condemned for the Inquisition, the crusades, being pro-life, out of step with the modern world, or having members who are intolerant superstitious rubes.

Robert Prather's blog is undergoing a rebranding effort. What was once the Mind of Man is now Unpunished Insults. While he should have gone for a Simpson's quote rather than another boring Jefferson quote, the material there is as good as ever. Joe Bob says, "Check it out!"

Not to suck up, but Winds of Change is my new second favorite blog. Of course, what you're reading right now is my favorite blog. Why wouldn't it be? But go read it. They post long articles with big words about important stuff. No heady weirdness over there. Though they are upright, moral even.

And Trent Telenko linked me. He's just dreamy.

Okay, tooo much heady weirdness. Warrior needs sleep, badly.

I was watching CSPAN II the other night, and they had a broadcast of a seminar on Whitaker Chambers. Speaking was Dan Mahoney, author most recently of the book Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn: The Ascent from Ideology, and also this good article on Chambers. I did some googling to find more information on Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. What I did not know was that Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn had a long career in baseball.

No kidding? Really?

But not for the reasons that immediately pop to mind.

I am late in noticing this hilarious parody accurate description post on balloon juice. Go read it, I beg you.

Found a few excellent, excellent blogs today. Doctor Frank's What's-It and Oliver Kamm. Both of these guys are good writers with interesting stuff going on inside their big heads. Finally, Winds of Change, which has lots more good stuff, including regional briefings every Tuesday and Wednesday, and sometimes Friday.

[Update] And, I realized that I never mentioned The Mind of Man when I added it a whiles back. While you're at it, why don't you visit all the sites on our blogroll, and email the bloggers to tell them to link to Perfidy. All we want is total global domination, is that so much to ask?

Happy birthday, P-dawg! Ack, that left a bad taste in my mouth. I can't even see hipness from where I live. I wanted to wish you a happy birthday before you posted it, so it wouldn't seem like I forgot, but I am before all things lazy.

Btw, Mrs. Buckethead celebrates her birthday tomorrow. I guess that means I have to get her a gift. Shit. And a card. Damn. And then, JC gets churched up when he gets christened Saturday. And, no that doesn't involve smashing a bottle of bubbly over him.

Because it is.

The last chronological buffer between me and 30 years old has worn down to nothing. Next year at this time, I will turn in my hipster ticket, my punk-rock credentials, and my Funk Express Card and settle down to a dull if pleasant life as a thirtysomething.

But until then I'm still 29, and

You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub
Look mami I got the X if you into taking drugs
I'm into having sex, I ain't into making love
So come give me a hug if you into getting rubbed

As usual, Lileks hits it straight off:

Only in America. And I say that as a good thing. Which reminds me: like all typical examples of American craziness, this will just horrify the Europeans.

I like the Idea of the terminator running for office. If successful, he will be the second cast member of the movie Predator to attain high office. Does anyone know where Carl Weathers lives?

On the idea of American craziness, I am all for it. The only predictablility in our foriegn policy should be steadfast loyalty to allies. As for the rest, some judicious twitchiness should have only positive effects.