perfidy

Dateline: Detroit "Police Say Gay Man Not Fatally Beaten"

Odd headline, I think you'll agree. Several interpretations seemed possible.

He was beaten, but not fatally.
He was beaten, but was somehow happy about it, and not dead.
He died, but not of a beating.

I had to read the story to find that it was the third. There's fifteen minutes of my life (1 minute reading, 14 minutes pontificating) I'll never see again.

DETROIT (AP) - An elderly man whose death became a cause for gay rights advocates died of natural causes, not from being beaten, authorities said Wednesday.

According to family members, before his death, Andrew Anthos told them a story about how he'd been injured, and the story, as told by the family, included indications it was a hate crime. Serious charges, well worthy of investigation and punishment, if true. But it turns out the Wayne County Medical Examiner's Office looked into matters, found that Anthos fell, determined how & why he fell, and in any event couldn't find evidence that anything about the story as related by the family was true.

Regardless of the circumstances, it's a shame he died - 72's not very old, really, and becomes less old to me in concept the longer I live.

The closing portion of the story, however, was even harder to parse than the obtuse headline:

Fedenis [his cousin] said she was shocked.

"I won't let this rest," Fedenis said. "I can't let this tarnish him. I don't want anyone to think it wasn't a hate crime."

"I won't let this rest"? What is she going to do, go hire a different medical examiner? Refuse to allow burial until she gets the outcome she seems to want? Stage a sit-in at the county morgue until they agree with her strangely-preferred explanation?

"I can't let this tarnish him"? What? He's dead - not only don't dead men wear plaid, they don't tarnish. And in what alternate universe is it better, from a dead person's perspective mind you, to have died from criminal actions rather than an accident? Is she concerned that all the other dead people won't respect him, once they find out he just fell down, instead of being beaten down? That because of concerns about his coordination, he'll always be one of the last guys picked for the dead-person basketball leagues we all hear so much about?

"I don't want anyone to think it wasn't a hate crime"? Not even if it wasn't? And what possible benefit is there, to Anthos or his family, for this to have been deemed a hate crime? None, near as I can tell.

Having already wasted a minute reading the story, I figured what the hell? and went back to read it again. Is it possible that the only benefit from this man's unfortunate death being classified as a hate crime would be the ability of "gay rights causes" to use his corpse as a cudgel? Shamefully, it seems the answer is yes.

Unfortunately, the only way to prove it's beneath me is to let you, the reader, see how easily my "embarrassed laugh" can be triggered:

Anna Nicole Smith Finally Reaches Target Weight

NASSAU, BAHAMAS—Some weight-loss experts do not find Smith's achievement inspirational, claiming that such drastic dieting can lead to a dangerous loss of muscle mass.

You must have long range goals to keep you from being frustrated by short range failures.

-Charles C. Noble

via Long or Short Capital, from its ongoing series "Quotes Entirely Relevant to Investing"

You may be painfully aware of the Ministry's ongoing series, "Great Mottoes for Lackluster States." We felt that it was unfair for the United States to get all the abuse, and Loyal reader #0018, Nicholas has cheerfully stepped up to the plate and contributed, exclusive to the Ministry of Minor Perfidy, a list of slogans for his homeland of Australia:

• Yes, we have beer.
• If not the Great Southern Land, at least a Pretty Good Southern Land.
• The land of broad expanses, and expansive broads.
• More didgeridoos than you can shake a hollow stick at.
• Now with electricity!
• Come see our bridge.
• No worries mate. At least not after you've finished the other 6-pack.
• Hotter than a monkey's bum.
• More than just a string of beaches, but seriously, who cares?
• Go to the beach and let it all hang out. Well, your stomach, anyway.
• Boasting the best marsupial to tourist ratio in the world.
• Marry an Australian girl, and Bob's your uncle!
• Instead of a Starbucks, we have a pub on every corner.
• Kind of like a cross between Canada and Hell.
• Our national dish is charred meat.
• Texas is small and densely-packed by comparison.
• Cricket - There's no better excuse to drink continuously for 5 days.
• Home of The Big Sheep, The Big Pineapple, and other Humorously Large Items (such as the Prime Minister's eyebrows).
• Did I mention we're all descended from criminals? Hey buddy, nice camera.
• More Wombats per square kilometer than anywhere else.
• Visit Woolloomooloo - It's our Mississippi.
• Strewth!
• England's Alcatraz.
• The land our Prime Minister once called "the arse end of the world". In one of his more polite statements.
• Our national emblem is the cooler.
• If you go home sober, you were somewhere else!

Getting into the spirit of things, here are a few additional slogans which may or may not reflect the true nature of Australia:

• It'll never fly
• Not just a nation, a continent
• Demographically, Australia's people are like soap scum around a sand-filled tub
• We'll fight in any war that has English speaking people in it
• The Greater West Oceania Co-Prosperity Sphere, What'd ya think?
• That's not a knife, this is a knife

New York, queen of cities, and city of queens. But did you know that New York isn't just a pestilential shitheap of urbanization gone mad, but an actual state with a capitol and everything? It's true.

• You may love NY, but New York Loves You, I mean, Loves You
• More Jews than Judea!
• The Go F#@$% Yourself State
• New Safe Version -- Now With 30% Fewer Murders!
• Get your 9/11 FunPass!
• Birthplace of Organized Crime
• Gateway to Quebec
• We may be close to, but we insist that we are not New Jersey!
• Come be our Senator!
• You Have The Right To Remain Silent...
• We're more than a big city; we're a state!
• The Affiliated Businesses of 9/11-Related Tourism State
• Like we care about a motto
• When we say “Empire” we mean “Empire.” You’ll see.
• English spoken here; sometimes
• Yes, We Have Some Other Cities
• Better Air Than New Jersey
• I got your motto right here!
• Come get mugged in New York!
• Just try to spend more for gas!
• Born Free, Taxed To Death
• The smell isn’t so bad since we got rid of the garbage mountains
• Home of Buffalo, but not proud of it
• Whatta You Lookin' At, Punk?
• The Only State
• Come for the skyline, stay because you were mugged and don't have cabfare to the airport.
• Our Thing
• Cosmopolitan and Provincial
• Home to the two most impressive presidents in US History: Martin van Buren and Millard Fillmore
• Yes, Millard Fillmore was the President
• If you get real close, you can look up Lady Liberty’s dress
• Uncomfortably close to Pennsylvania
• New Netherland
• While it is still illegal to go over Niagara Falls in a barrel, you can float down the East River in one
• Please somebody tell us what the fuck a “Kickerbocker” is
• Not the only state named after poncy British royalty

[wik] Did you know the capitol of the United States was once a bar in Jersey? True fact.

Naked Villainy has an all-new, completely redesigned site that, mysteriously, looks exactly like the old one. Though it was irritating seeing the blank screen over the weekend when I wanted to see if he'd commented on the Civil War post...

The funny thing about this result is that I just can't see well enough to hit much beyond 250m consistently. Even 300m is a little, um, hit or miss, and I never qualified Expert because of it. I fired an SVD once, and was hitting at 500m+ with no optics, but still I doubt that I would ever be capable of real reach-out-and-touch-you shots that real snipers can make. And my personal safety equipment doesn't include far shooters. I do have a Chicom SKS, but even with its robust round I wouldn't trust it much beyond 200, 250m and anyway it's in rough shape. Instead I rely on close-in stuff. Well, it's all about the threat you preceive you're facing. For me, it's zombies, and I'm putting my stock in point defense and escape.

"You scored as Sniper Rifle. You like sharpshooting. Stealth, accuracy and range are your best friends. So you a need sniper rifle (if you don't already have one)."
 

This cow and this cow should not be allowed to meet and breed.

Check out the sexy clean lines on the new BMW M3 concept car! OMG. Sorry Ross, you can take your 5-series and drive it into the drink. THIS is the car to have.

I confess, I actually can't really drive an M3. I've tried. I'm so used to soft Japanese clutches, that I don't lay off the clutch and feed it gas quickly enough to keep from stalling. I stall out pretty badly. (Granted that was a test drive in a friend's car almost 8 years ago when I didn't drive regularly.)

But I so totally want this car, or the M3 SMG. The paddles are kinda nifty. I was sitting in one the other day and thinking, "This is a year's worth of my salary. BUT HOLY COW is it nice." I mean, if I had to take a machete and kill the cow they were going to use to make the leather seats, just to get this car, I would. I know the other ministers would help out, just for a chance to take the car on the track. (HELL YEAH!)

This is one MEAN looking car. That stare you down, glare at you over the tops of the glasses, and tell you to get the fuck out of the way mean. In a 'I broke my nose in a fight' mean kind of way. (I can't say I like the bump on the hood. It's exactly like a broken nose.)

This is the PERFECT SPECIMEN of what I need to conquer the left lane of the Dulles Toll Road with my "Smart Pass". Who's smart now muthafucka?

Hat tip to fellow PF Blogger, Hazzard of Everybody Loves Your Money for the link.

"Nihilism is best done by professionals." - Iggy Pop

"I heard the heartbeat."

Yep, my forthcoming son and/or daughter is now, inelecutably, fo' rizzle fo' shizzle. Hell yeah!

Next up, a fellow bested only by the roadrunner in bearing no resemblance to his cartoon version:

Picoides villosus just by the plumage, but the hairies I understand are both larger and don't range quite as far north as I and my suet. Also concerning plumage, this photo understates how striking the black and white ladder pattern down the back is.

You guys wanna play dickedy-dick? Not a problem.

Let's start with your friend and mine, Baeolophus bicolor:

He's omnipresent throughout the day at the seed areas. Once in awhile one might take a stab at the suet, but they're definitely seed-eaters.

They come pretty much at dawn and stay around until late afternoon. Bigger birds might cause them to leave the feeders, but they don't go far and as soon as they're open they come right back. I have seen 4 or 5 at a time around our feeding area, but I have no idea if that's typical.

My bird book says that, in identifying the titmouse, that it looks sort of like a mouse. Huh, thanks. And I...guess that's true, although a flying mouse more readily describes a bat, and the two look nothing alike.

Friggin weak-ass dollar bird book.

Not the birds!

My morning commute is now a solid hour, not including time spent at the daycare where I leave the Li'lest Lethal. Sometimes I hang out there for up to 30 minutes if he's especially needy that morning or I want to work some more on the kickass pyramid of Legos I started there the other day. Well what the eff, I'm there for a half hour!

But we're talking about 60 minutes in the car. It must be said that the actual distance is only about 25 miles. Problem is that...well, I'm not sure really. I just know that the 15-odd mile stretch of interstate highway I utilize is comprised of 3 to 5 lanes, depending, and traffic on all them goes about, oh, 32mph when it moves at all. In such circumstances it is vital that my spawn remain at least nominally occupied, both for his own general wellbeing and to prevent me from opening the driver's side door and hurling myself out of it so I don't have to hear the relentless horrible crying anymore. Although, come to think of it, given that highway traffic is usually crawling, I probably wouldn't get too hurt. But I would look totally stupid. Maybe I could make sure I hit head first or something. THen I wouldn't hear the crying and I wouldn't have to care how stupid I (surely) looked.

The best form of sonic sedation is your basic kids' music, 100 of the songs you thought were played out and lame by the time you were about 4. These renditions are modernized and produced in a real studio by real engineers and real singers, which doesn't really help much, truth be told. And let me tell you, "Bingo was his name, oh" starts feeling like an icepick in my eardrums after awhile, and by the time the CD has restarted with "a tisket (?) a tasket (?) a green and yellow basket", my thoughts wander again to whether the situation might be improved by just jumping out the door.

But what happens is that while the music dominates the interior space and soothes the savage child's breast, I am looking at the exterior world with greater than usual attentiveness in an effort to find something to distract me from the unending preschool jams inside. Today, instead of having to really bear down and pay attention, something came to me: a dude on a motorcycle.

The only reason that is remarkable is that the ambient temperature was about 20. That's 20F, for you non-Amurricans or domestic bedwetters. And that's respectably chilly in these parts. You know, wear-a-hat weather. But this cat was not only on his bike, he was in the fast lane (which, quite abnormally, was actually going fast), where I sat on his back wheel at 75 for about 5-10 minutes, but when there were some openings in the other lanes he weaved and was gone, 90+. I don't have the science fu to calculate windchills and whatnot, but I would think that any micron of exposed skin would be black and necrotic in about 3 seconds. I like to think his car was just in the shop or wouldn't start, because a guy who's that into riding is kinda unsettling to me.

So that gave me enough to think about this morning to keep me from making the leap.

And btw, I learned (not the hard way, thank the Dark Ones) that the Connecticut State Police have at least one unmarked SUV. Couldn't get alot of detail; I was 9 lanes and a concrete divider away, going the opposite direction at about 70, and at a time in the early morning when colors tend to wash out. At a glance, looked like a white or gray Blazer, with heavy tint on the windows.

Gary Farber is in a panic. Despite chronic physical ailments, and wrestling with crippling depression, Amygdala has been one of the most consistently excellent blogs I know. In keeping with the Ministry tradition of not linking to anyone, or in fact doing anything that would increase our popularity, I have only linked Gary a couple times. But I read. And the other day, he explained why he has been in a panic. One of the few dependable sources of income he has has evaporated. He needs cash.

Imagine you're a cute, fuzzy deer. You wander onto the highway. You see some lights, you freeze. You think to yourself, "I've got to get out of the highway." The lights get closer. You think, even more urgently, "I've really got to get out of the highway." But you can't move. Imagine that feeling lasting for months or years at a time. People with chronic ailments like diabetes can take insulin or whatever to control their disease. There is nothing about diabetes that actively tries to prevent you from getting help. Depression does. It's five miles of fog between you and reality. It's all the color in your life going away, and not all cute like in Pleasantville. It even makes you like the Cure and the Smiths. And all the while, people tell you to cheer up, or get your shit together, or for godsakes just do something. You feel that whatever talents or gifts you have, which - in the hands of anyone else - would have allowed them to become wildly successful and boink supermodels all day, are really just a mocking curse from a cruel god because you have them, and can't use them for anything.

I think that Gary might be feeling better, thanks to the generosity of those who've already pitched in. Make him feel a little better, if for no other reason than so I can keep reading his blog.

And of course, I can't stop you, nor would I want to. But the world's full of things I just don't get, and among them is the complaint I periodically hear about Comedy Central's Stephen Colbert just not being funny. I can't say I watch his show a lot, but when I do, I find him to be quite good at his schtick, and quite entertaining.

Bill O'Reilly? Not so enjoyable. But it turns out, "Bill O'Reilly and Stephen Colbert to Trade Appearances on Each Other's Shows", so I'm going to have to set the DVR to record both.

Here's the thing, though - Colbert seems never to break character, and O'Reilly seems seldom to work with any spontaneity, so this could be rather like the American Idol tryouts my wife and daughter are so looking forward to - impossible to stomach. Colbert can certainly do a good O'Reilly, but if O'Reilly attempts to go into Colbert's realm, he could come off looking like a goof. OK, like a bigger goof - whatever.

Colbert's take on things? Typical sucker punch, well-delivered:

"I look forward to the evening," Colbert said. "It is an honor to speak face-to-face with a broadcasting legend, and I feel the same way about Mr. O'Reilly."

A 1972 (or thereabouts) Chevy pickup, nicely restored, with a "Nixon/Agnew" bumpersticker. I wish I had had my camera handy.

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.