perfidy

A long time ago, I studied the monetary and cultural cost of certain aspects of the Imperial-era British penal system. I learned alot about how graft, social forces, governmental pressure, and random circumstance can shape not only the process of the justice system, but its punishment as well. And it didn't stop there. Oh, no. European legal thought and tradition are fundamental in many ways to our own, even as late as the development of our penitentiary system. And while I answered the questions I set out to adequately, I would have liked to take the work deeper. Perhaps, in the best tradition of scholars past, I ended my work feeling like I had posed still more questions, and opened doors on lines of inquiry I could pursue to make a lasting contribution to my wallet. Daah, my field. Lasting contribution to my field.

One topic that I wish I had thought of then but is on my mind lately is: what did cops do before there were drivers to ticket?

Seriously.

Because, over time, the police have become a guaranteed revenue stream into their city and state. An awful lot of them appear to be running radar; in certain regions of my domain, ensuring the safety of the larger commonweal one ticket at a time is the apparent raison detre of the State Police. Yes, they have other missions- they are the 911 for remote areas of the state; they have a kick-ass crime lab; they have really cool dogs- but really, they're primary mission seems to be to write tickets. I don't know the percentages of how many officers are out pulling people over, as opposed to the total number of officers on duty, but by casual observation it seems somewhere in the neighborhood of all of them.

So as a historically-minded cat, I have to ask myself how long that's been going on. Does the growth of the police force mirror the growth of the population, or more closely the growth of car ownership (if indeed the two are even distinguishable)? What was the pre-automobile analogue of police-generated revenue? Was pre-industrial society safer, since more police ought to have been available to fight crime? When did we decide it was ok for agents of the state to generate income for the government?

And no, I didn't recently get a ticket- I actually drive like an old lady. Well, an old lady who knows where she's going and how to drive. But in my daily travels I see folks bagged by the state cops hand over fist, and just have to ask whether that's really the best use of their time for the mission of maintaining peace and order for the citizenry, or the best use of their time for a rapacious state government?

The Centennial State has been renowned for many things, most recently high school massacres. But there is much more to The Rocky Mountain State. Like John Denver.

• Now 100% John Denver free!
• Squarer Than Wyoming
• Too wimpy to cross the mountains so we stopped here
• The vertical state
• Official home of the winter ski bunny
• If you're looking to visit South Park, please leave
• We hate Texans too
• See what John Denver meant by Rocky Mountain "high"
• The higher you go the happier you get state
• If You Don't Ski, Don't Bother

And on a personal note, I would like to suggest the following two mottoes:

• The Broncos Suck
• Die Elway Die

[wik] Bonus slogans!

• Thank God We're Out of Oklahoma
• Colorado: A Million Illegal Mexicans Can't Be Wrong
• Home of the Pikes Peak Community Technical Vocational College's intramural ultimate frisbee team: the Fighting Lark Buntings
• We gave the world Tim Allen AND Zachery Ty Bryan. Suck on THAT, Utah!
• The Reference Ellipsoid State
• Perversely enjoying being upstream of California AND Texas.
• Clothing and turn signals optional.
• Ok, SOMEBODY had to have a Boulder.
• We're ALL members of the Mile High Club.
• Yeah, we know the airport looks weird.
• More wildfires mean prettier sunsets.
• Colorado: The Million Illegal Mexicans Who Couldn’t Find Houston
• Die Elway, Die Die Die! GRAAAAHHHGH!
• Crushing the hopes of generations of Ohioans

Once more unto the breach, the Ministry attempts to inject a tiny dose of geo-social knowledge into its readership. This time, we assault the very big state of California.

• We sure got a lot of Queers
• As Seen On TV
• The Granola State
• The Biblical State; as in Fire, Floods, Quakes and Drought
• Next Disaster, Locusts!
• Nobody's actually from here
• Silicon Valley in the North, Silicone Hills in the South!
• By 30, Our Women Have More Plastic Than Your Honda
• Fast reloading lanes available
• The Cereal State: nothing but fruits, nuts and flakes
• Wish they all could be California Girls!
• With Satan, too, all things are possible -- and way more fun!
• More electoral votes than you can shake a stick at, plus the stick
• The Death Valley State
• Caution: Large Fake Breasts On Board!
• The really long state
• The Gold-Plated, Silicone-Implanted State
• We will invade Oregon. You just wait.
• Proud Home of Richard M. Nixon and the Colossus of Yorba Linda
• Fake Women, Pretentious Wine, Bad Song

[wik] Bonus slogans!

• The Birthplace of the Stretch Hummer
• Pretentious is an Understatement
• Our Food is Organic but Our Women Aren't Any More
• Visit West Hollywood - It isn't Just the Burger Grills that are Flaming
• Defines Pretentious Better Than Any Dictionary
• Putting Break Dancing Back on the Streets where It Oughtta Be.
• Got Porn?
• Where Everybody Knows Your Stage Name
• Sleep with the Producer, Become a Star!
• Dashing Young Actresses' Hopes Since 1936.
• Come Visit Before We Split Off from the Mainland and Drift Away
• If the Midwest is America's Heartland, then We're the Erogenous Zone
• Hot Like Florida, but Less Old People and 'Gators
• So Innovative, our Freeways Double as Parking Lots
• Come for 'Frisco, Stay for LA

Once more, the Ministry offers a dollop of education on top a fat steaming pile of poo. Today, more state mottoes for the poor, but misunderstood, state of Arkansas, the only state with its name on its flag, so the people won't forget.

• We're like a piratical Kansas
• Attention, K-Mart Shoppers!
• More Than Kansas
• It's Trailer-rific!!!
• Litterasy Ain't Everthing
• At least we're not Mississippi
• We now have electricity
• The nation's incest capital
• we put the K in ejukashun!
• Don't hold Clinton against us
• Honest, we were just try'n to get that sheep back over the fence
• That's Aar-Can-Saw, dumbass
• Only the last "s" is silent
• We aren't all Hatfields and McCoys
• The natural state, if by natural you mean unimproved and devoid of economic value

[wik] Bonus Slogans!

• The Delaware of the South
• If Florida's the Nation's Wang, We're Sort of the Colon
• Like Vermont, but Bigger and Less Faggy

This is well worth reading.

It took the Roman Empire centuries to build 50,000 miles of roads. We did it in a couple decades. We rock. And this week is the 50th anniversary of the Interstate Highway System, brought into existence by my personal savior, President Eisenhower. Over here you will find an informative history of the highway system. You can also go here or to the ever-useful wikipedia if the first one didn't slake your thirst for highway knowledge.

[wik] This is interesting, too: a proposal for a Transglobal Highway.

In our continuing series examining the possibilities for alternative state mottoes, we turn the unthinking eye of our regard to the Grand Canyon State:

• The Pacific Coast State!
• It's Not the Heat, It's the Stupidity
• It's hot. Real hot. Damn Hot. Hot.
• Now with fewer illegal aliens!
• Home to the World's Largest Hole in the Ground
• The parbroiled lizard state.
• Yes, you can grow grass in the desert.
• The once and future northernmost state of Mexico
• It rarely ever gets above 115 degrees. Really.
• Not as hot as the inside of your oven!

[wik] Bonus Slogans!

• Where the Sole Source of Gun Control Is Your Trigger Finger
• Where All Those Old Mustangs and Camaros Wound Up
• Peccaries. Pecadilloes. Armadillos.
• Our Landscape Looks the Most Like a 'Roadrunner' Cartoon
• We Actually HAVE Roadrunners
• Just Protect Your Eyes, and the Vultures Can't Really Hurt You
• Like Alaska, but Hot Instead of Cold

Ministry Crony NDR posts a lengthy (for blogs) excerpt from The Life and Times of Mexico, by Earl Shorris that I find very interesting. The three years mentioned in the title of this post are three decisive years in Spain, whose repercussions can be felt today. At least one of the events of 1492 should be obvious even to a fifth grade drop out. The other two are equally important - the end of the reconquista in Grenada, and the expulsion of the Sephardic Jews. These last two set the Spanish monarchy on a course of intolerance and rigid dogmatism that would infect two other continents, and play a major role in the religious wars that bedeviled Europe over the next two centuries. The first, by way of American silver, provided the means to finance this.

1521 is not a date I was familiar with. Rather than rewrite, I will excerpt the excerpt:

"The events of 1521, the third date, were to establish New Spain and set the pattern for its government. In that year the urban center of the Mexican world, Tenochtitlan, fell to the Spaniards and their Tiaxcalan allies, but of almost equal importance, the comuneros (townspeople) of Castille rose up in revolt. Fifteen Castillian towns gathered to petition the king for democratic reforms, perhaps a constitutional monarchy.

But there was to be no Spanish Magna Carta. The nobles joined their king in putting down the rebellion. The comunero leaders were executed, and as they died, the idea of democracy in Spain and its colonies died with them. There were no more democratic uprisings during the three centuries of Spanish Empire. The effective democratic movements of 1776 in the American colonies and 1789 in France did not spread to New Spain. The separate political paths of Mexico and its neighbor were set 250 years before Jefferson's Declaration. The deaths of the comuneros had ended the democratic rebellion, and the tightening of the connection between the king and his nobles had begun an absolutist and centralist tradition in Spain, old and new.

Well, that seems to have great world-historical importance. Many in the United States have wondered why American political traditions and institutions often fare so poorly in the nations to the south. Well, it seems we have a concise answer right there.

The last date, 1588 is again a well known one, the year of the Armada. The year that everything went south for Spain. The weather was more to blame for Spain's defeat than the English, but it did mark the beginning of the end. Spain would remain a power in fact for a good while more - Spanish tercios played a major role in the Thirty Year's War, but their role grew ever smaller.

Fascinating. I think I shall have to buy the book.

The Ministry is engaged in a never-ending and ultimately fruitless effort to improve the knowledge, understanding, education and sang froid of its readership. To that end, we continue our series of alternate state mottoes to deepen your understanding of American politics and culture. In today's installment, we deal with the largest state, Alaska. Officially, the Alaskans say, "North To The Future." Some think otherwise:

• The Fucking Huge State
• It's Cold. Damn Cold. Real Cold. Cold.
• Alaska, Gateway to Siberia
• 11,623 Eskimos Can't Be Wrong!
• Come 'Cause It's Pretty. Stay 'Cause You're Lost
• Oil-slick-free for 15 years
• We're cold and lonely: LET US HAVE OUR POT BACK!
• We Get to Kill Whales and You Don't!
• Nobody Exciting Lives Here
• God It's Cold Up Here
• Come freeze your Alaska off!
• We'll let you club a seal
• Remember Attu, Agattu and Kiska!

[wik] Bonus slogans!

• Because Daylight's for Sissies
• Not Penguins, Polar Bears and Orcas
• The Only Things Harder Than Our Rocky Coast Are Our Nipples
• A Suicide Rate not Nearly as Bad as Norway's
• Our Most Dangerous Animal's a Rutting Moose
• Imperial Russian Firesale!

Picked up from Matt Yglesias, this Post op-ed from two former Clinton officials recommending that we don't just shoot down the missile, but that we shoot down the launch site. Before we get into the meat of the story, I find it amusing that Matt had this qualifier for the raging warmongering suggested by mssrs. Carter and Perry:

And, of course, Carter and Perry are veterans of the Clinton administration so one shouldn't dismiss them out of hand as know-nothings.

I am much less partisan in my warmongering. I take it as a given that warmongerging is a viable solution, and work backwards from there.

But on to the op-ed. They suggest that waiting would be bad. First, even if we shoot it down successfully, the North Korean engineers will have already obtained much of the flight test data they need to make more of these. Second, and as we discussed in the previous post, the downside of a failed intercept is really, uh, down. A cruise missile strike on the launch facility would destroy the missile, and little else. It would guarantee that the missile launch doesn't happen - as our precision strike capability is not in the least an unknown quantity. And, it would send a message. A good one, I think.

The South Koreans would oppose any strike on the North, however limited in scope. Given their vulnerability, that is understandable. To do nothing would be imprudent, though, as we have been trying a carrot approach to the North, and that is only half a viable strategy. Hitting the missile after launch avoids the problem of striking the actual territory of a hostile nation, but at some risk to our future credibility of our deterrence. All in all, I think that hitting the launch site seems the most reasonable, in terms of probability of success, and lack of serious downside. Unless the North freaks out and invades. But that, I think, is unlikely no matter what the provocation. The Chinese won't allow it if for no other reason than that they aren't ready for a confrontation with the US.

Alabama, where stars fall if you believe their license plates, is known to some as the Yellowhammer State. There have been, however, some suggestions for alternative state mottoes:

• The Redneck State
• Birthplace of the Civil Rights Movement
• Like the Third World, but Closer.
• Because SC is a Little Too Progressive for Some of Us
• Now, with electricity!
• At Least We're Not Mississippi
• Not as Racist as we used to be
• First, alphabetically if in no other sense
• You may have heard that song by Leonyrd Skynard

[wik] Bonus slogans

• Not Jew Free - Yet!
• Two Beers Short of a Sixpack - A Million Fags Short of Massachusetts
• Stars and Bars: Not Just a Flag, But What You See When We Beat You
• Home of the Bar-B-Q Possum
• Ya gotta go through us to get to Tennessee

I think a conversation between the national intelligence leadership and the President over this article might be fun to overhear.

I think it would boil down to something like:

"Mr. President, Pennsylvania officials have intercepted an attempt to smuggle graphite."

"Graphite? How do you smuggle graphite? I mean, wha...wha...you got your spray paint, you got your wall, you paint your name or whatever..."

"That's graffiti, Mr. President. g-r-a-f-f-i-t-i. This plot revolves around graphite, g-r-a-p-h-i-t-e. It's a material with broad uses in industry, including the atomic industry."

"Ah huh, atomic industry. G-r-a-p-h-i-t-e. I see...."

"Ahh, yes, sir...well. To get to the point, some in the intelligence community believe this plot involved smuggling graphite in order to further nuclear programs in developing cou...ahhh...in evil countries, sir."

"Ah huh, evil. Graphite. Nukular. I see..."

"Intelligence estimates are inconclusive at this time, Mr. President, but ..."

"Ah huh, but. Wait. But? But what?"

"Other national agencies sir are unwilling to commit, at this time, to my analysis. They, ah, are leaning toward another interpretation."

"Ah huh, terpuhtations."

"Yes sir, they feel that graphite, on its own, does not indicate imminent nuclear attack by a rogue madman."

"Ah huh..."

"They feel it could be...pencils."

"Pencils?"

"At this point, Mr President, the intelligence community is divided. Could indicate a desire to jumpstart a villainous nuclear program. Could indicate a desire to manufacture pencils. Tough to call at this point, sir."

Iran has banned Patton's favorite magazine, The Economist, for lese majeste, in that the august publication dared to publish a map that referred to the body of water to south of Iran as "Gulf" rather than "Persian Gulf." The National Geographic was banned a while back for subtitling Persian Gulf with "Arabian Gulf." While I think that the mullahs have gone too far, I find myself in stunned agreement. It is the Persian Gulf, that's what it's been called for quite a while now, and renaming it willy-nilly is not the perogative of jackass cartographers no matter who they're working for. Nevertheless, it is widely known that the Mullahs hate our freedom, so everyone go out and subscribe to the Economist so that the terrorists don't win.

I love cable television. I love that we live in the future.

I am about to watch a world cup soccer match between Mexico and Iran. There are a dismayingly large number of people in America today willing to believe that the populace of one of these nations is conspiring to overrun us and tekurjobs, and the other is full of people all working in concert to make New York into a glowing crater.

Both those assertions are, of course, bullshit. Bigotry and economic illiteracy aside, the United States does need to get a handle on all the people who want to come to this country, but not by sealing the borders tight. And surely there are many nuclear engineers in Iran working on things that mean bad news for us. But the main body of the populace of each of these countries are just people like people everywhere.

Right now, as I watch the Mexican announcers on Univision flip out as Mexico prepares for its opening match against Iran, all I can see is a bunch of people really happy to be from where they're from, and ready to pin their national pride on a silly game. Some of you may know that I spent some time in Guanajuato as a teenager, and really dig Mexico as a nation, as a people, and as a state of mind.

I love that I can watch Mexican world cup action in Spanish, get the flavor of their fanaticism, soak in the love of the game, and launch myself off the couch screaming "GOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL! GOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAL!" in support of my peeps to the South. And given that the USA is hard pressed to make it out of the first round in a group that's absolutely stacked with talent including a juggernaut of a Czech team and the Italians and Ghana besides, I might as well go ahead and throw my Cup support behind nuestros vecinos del sud.

¡Luchemos! ¡Luchemos! ¡Vencermos! And similar sentiments!

[wik] Advertisements for Nexium (the purple pill) are just as silly in Spanish.

[alsø wik] Latin American soap operas are priceless entertainment.

[alsø alsø wik] Mariachi music is oddly compelling. Much like polka, which I find to be a balm to the hung-over mind, mariachi is somehow comforting yet energizing. I clearly have brain damage.

[wi nøt trei a høliday in Sweden this yër?] Aside to Buckethead: you should know that I've started playing pickup soccer at lunchtime, hence my sudden interest in the game. I have realized that it's as poetic as baseball and as exciting as football. The only drawback, the one thing that seems wrong to this American mind is this: no professional sporting event should ever end in a tie.

[see the løveli lakes...] Strikeouts, as Crash Davis said, might be fascist, but ties are socialist.

[the wøndërful telephøne system...] Unlike my esteemed coblogger Patton, I love our freedom. And I hate ties.

[and mäni interesting furry animals...] Patton likes ties, value-added taxes, international condom-size harmonization standards, national shoe production quotas, and Volvos.

[including the majestik møøse...] Iran's national anthem is quite lovely. I have no idea what the words are.

[a Møøse once bit my sister...] Evidently, the lyrics in English run

Upwards on the horizon rises the Eastern Sun,
The sight of the true Religion.
Bahman - the brilliance of our Faith.
Your message, O Imam, of independence and freedom
is imprinted on our souls.
O Martyrs! The time of your cries of pain rings in our ears.
Enduring, continuing, eternal,
The Islamic Republic of Iran.

So there you go.

[No realli! She was Karving her initials on the møøse with the sharpened end of an interspace tøøthbrush given by Svenge - her brother-in-law - an Oslo dentist and star of many Norwegian møvies: "The Høt Hands of an Oslo Dentist", "Fillings of Passion", "The Huge Mølars of Horst Nordfink"] Wait'll you get a load of the lyrics to the Mexican anthem! Iran is all about submission to Allah and martyrs: Mexico's is about fucking rivers of the blood of their enemies.

CHORUS:
Mexicans, when the war cry is heard,
Have sword and bridle ready.
Let the earth's foundations tremble
At the loud cannon's roar.

May the divine archangel crown your brow,
Oh fatherland, with an olive branch of peace,
For your eternal destiny has been written
In heaven by the finger of God.
But should a foreign enemy
Dare to profane your soil with his tread,
Know, beloved fatherland, that heaven gave you
A soldier in each of your sons.

CHORUS

War, war without truce against who would attempt
to blemish the honor of the fatherland!
War, war! The patriotic banners
saturate in waves of blood.
War, war! On the mount, in the vale
The terrifying cannon thunder
and the echoes nobly resound
to the cries of union! liberty!

CHORUS

Fatherland, before your children become unarmed
Beneath the yoke their necks in sway,
May your countryside be watered with blood,
On blood their feet trample.
And may your temples, palaces and towers
crumble in horrid crash,
and their ruins exist saying:
The fatherland was made of one thousand heroes here.

CHORUS

Fatherland, oh fatherland, your sons vow
To give their last breath on your altars,
If the trumpet with its warlike sound
Calls them to valiant battle.
For you, the garlands of olive,
For them, a glorious memory.
For you, the victory laurels,
For them, an honoured tomb.

CHORUS

So, I guess the lesson is, never date Mexico's sister.

From the Llamabutchers, just click through and play the video.

[wik] While we're on the subject of Llamavideos, they have another one as well. While I am not generally speaking one for wishing others ill, I can't help but admit to a funny feeling in the tummy when I contemplate the demise of Zarqawi. Triumphalism is not a virtue, but in this case, I think not entirely a vice. And the song picked for this one is not, for once, the odious Toby Keith.

[alsø wik] In that same post, Steve makes the point that the next election will be dynamite, huge, when it comes to the common folk appropriating the expropriators. The photoshopping of campaign ads was one of the happier things about the last election, and I think that re-edits and you tube will in fact play a significant (and highly amusing) role in '08.

Those adjectives frame Ruth Elkins’ picture of the Germanoman.

In her article in Der Spiegel, Ms. Elkins discusses the 7 types of Germanic maleness. Aside from a couple who may, with proper tutelage, approach something like an assertive American man, most are satisfied to roll with the punches- and they’ll get plenty, with that attitude- and never strive to dominate their environment.

And that almost squares with my impression of Germans. Loyal readers know that I lived amongst the Bavarians for 2 years as a drone in the USAREUR hive. Yes I spent most of the time in the field, but I did get to witness some fundamental differences between Them and Us. One glaring difference was how the German men fought, vs how GIs fought.

When soldiers fought, it brought broken bottles, broken furniture, broken hands, broken wrists, ears bitten off; back-to-the-wall fights for survival yielding destruction on bodies and barrooms hugely disproportionate to the issue that started the fight in the first place, which was, 100% of the time, trivial.

Once I saw German guys fight, and it was, to be honest, kinda funny. They circled each other about 12 ft apart. One guy ran up and sort of slapped the other, then ran away, then the second man did something similar. It was a sort of sissy fight, or perhaps ritualistic in some way. They just never really got down into it and got it done.

OK, sure it’s not a fair comparison; I saw A LOT of Joes scrap and only that one time saw the ‘Rads go at it, in their way. Oh, and one time in Munich I saw a guy wandering the city by himself at oh-dark-thirty, drunk as a Stinktiere, with a bloody nose and having trouble fathoming why anyone would have done such a thing to him. But interactions with regular German men at all sorts of non-combat activities: restaurants, Volksmarches, music shops, taxis stands, even just walking the streets, pretty definitively caused me to rule that they were nearly exclusively a live-and-let-live bunch. Even if they were getting punched in the face.

The exception that proves the rule of course were the Polizei.
The Polizei had a reputation for…shall we say, enthusiastically…breaking up brawling soldiers. It was ingrained early on in my initial country training not to trifle with the Polizei. My first night downrange old timers made sure I understood not to trifle with the Polizei- if something happened, they said, stay out of it as best you can and, if the law got into it, try to surrender to the MPs if at all possible as they won’t likely bust your head open. One night, seconds after I walked past a bus stop, uniformed and plainclothes police agents swooped in from everywhere and took down some grubby looking dude who was waiting for a bus. Quite energetically. Which reinforced the message- don’t trifle with the Polizei. And I never saw or worked with GSG-9 but no one can say they’re sissies, either.

So Ms. Elkins might have overlooked an 8th type of Germanoman:

Professional Authoritarian German Male

He’s dangerous looking, with his thick truncheon and tailored uniform. He walks stiffly with his leather belt and boots. No, he’s not a character in some sick German BDSM flick-not to my mind, anyway- but an actual German man who, through his strength of character and will, backed by the power of the State, sees to it that none trod grass where it is clearly marked “verboten”.

Distinguishing marks: The shoulder patch that says “Polizei”. It may read “ieziloP”, due to you being on the ground looking up at it through rapidly swelling eyes and the stream of blood coming off your head.

Habitat: Everywhere GIs need to be curtailed, tickets need to be written, order needs to be maintained, or jaywalkers need to be yelled at. Or ticketed.

Favorite Activities: Maintaining order. Secretly wishing there was more disorder so he might have more order to maintain.

The Pros: Courteous and professional to a fault. Spiffy uniforms. Appreciates superior German weaponry...

The Catch: ...and clubbing you with it. Awfully effective with a truncheon.

My dear 'ol mum, not a noted French-hater, sent me an electronic mail over the weekend just chock-full of derisive remarks on the military valor of the French. I have no option but to share:

• "The last time the French asked for 'more proof ' it came marching into Paris under a German flag." --David Letterman
• "I would rather have a German division in front of me than a French one behind me." --General George S. Patton
• "War without France would be like ... World War II." --Unknown
• "What do you expect from a culture and a nation that exerted more of its national will fighting against DisneyWorld and Big Macs than the Nazis?" --Dennis Miller
• "It is important to remember that the French have always been there when they needed us." --Alan Kent
• "Do you know it only took Germany three days to conquer France in WWII? And that's because it was raining." --John Xereas, Manager, DC Improv
• "Going to war without France is like going deer hunting without your accordion." --Norman Schwartzkopf
• "We can stand here like the French, or we can do something about it." --Marge Simpson
• "As far as I'm concerned, war always means failure." --Jacques Chirac, President of France
• "As far as France is concerned, you're right." --Rush Limbaugh
• "The only time France wants us to go to war is when the German Army is sitting in Paris sipping coffee." --Regis Philbin
• "The French are a smallish, monkey-looking bunch and not dressed any better, on average, than the citizens of Baltimore. True, you can sit outside in Paris and drink little cups of coffee, but why this is more stylish than sitting inside and drinking large glasses of whisky I don't know." --P.J. O'Rourke (1989)
• "You know, the French remind me a little bit of an aging actress of the 1940s who was still trying to dine out on her looks but doesn't have the face for it." --John McCain, U.S. Senator from Arizona
• "You know why the French don't want to bomb Saddam Hussein? Because he hates America, he loves mistresses and wears a beret. He is French, people." --Conan O'Brien
• "I don't know why people are surprised that France won't help us get Saddam out of Iraq. After all, France wouldn't help us get Hitler out of France either." --Jay Leno
• "Only thing worse than a Frenchman is a Frenchman who lives in Canada." --Ted Nugent
• "The favorite bumper sticker in Washington D.C. right now is one that says 'First Iraq, then France.'" --Tom Brokaw
• "They've taken their own precautions against al-Qa'ida. To prepare for an attack, each Frenchman is urged to keep duct tape, a white flag, and a three-day supply of mistresses in the house." --Argus Hamilton
• "Somebody was telling me about the French Army rifle that was being advertised on eBay the other day -- the description was, 'Never shot. Dropped once.'" --Rep. Roy Blunt, MO
• "The French will only agree to go to war when we've proven we've found truffles in Iraq." --Dennis Miller
• "Raise your right hand if you like the French, ... raise both hands if you are French." --Unknown
• Q. What did the mayor of Paris say to the German Army as they entered the city in WWII?
  A. Table for 100,000 m'sieur?
• "Do you know how many Frenchmen it takes to defend Paris? It's not known, it's never been tried." --Rep. R. Blount, MO
• The AP and UPI reported that the French Government announced after the London bombings that it has raised its terror alert level from Run to Hide. The only two higher levels in France are Surrender and Collaborate. The rise in the alert level was precipitated by a recent fire which destroyed France's white flag factory, effectively disabling their military.
• French Ban Fireworks at Euro Disney
  (AP), Paris, March 5, 2003
  The French Government announced today that it is imposing a ban on the use of fireworks at Euro Disney. The decision comes the day after a nightly fireworks display at the park, located just 30 miles outside of Paris, caused the soldiers at a nearby French Army garrison to surrender to a group of Czech tourists

Malthus was terribly, terribly wrong. It seems that while people are screwing around as much as ever, they are not making babies. And as we all know, not making babies leads to a dearth of adults somewhere down the line. While I have been doing my part, having spawned two offspring and planning for another, there is only so much that I can do to make up for the shortcomings of a global population of billions. At a stretch, maybe I can cover Johno's depressingly liberal childlessness, but the rest of you are on your own.

And it turns out that the problems of depopulation may in fact be worse than the problems of overpopulation that gloomy and pessimistic Malthusians have been trumpeting lo these many centuries. If you stumble, you can sometimes run faster to save yourself from a spill. And that is not a bad analogy for the overpopulation and technology. But with depopulation, we may find ourselves with our legs cut out from under us.

Also, there will be a lot more Baptists.

Later this year, I will be travelling on official Ministry business to Prague, jewel of Bohemia and former site of one of the Ministry's finest and most active field offices. Unfortunately, that office was closed rather bloodily by SS-Obergruppenführer Reinhard Heydrich in 1942, not long before his untimely but incredibly welcome assassination, and its wealth of occult and scientific knowledge was lost. Alas, the Iron Curtain fell before we could get another office satisfactorily established, and so our presence in Czechoslovakia and now the Czech Republic has been for six decades informal, ad hoc, and highly erratic.

(One rather tragic outcome of der Wixer's sacking of our office was that the Ministry lost track of the Golem of Prague. Although we of course had nothing whatsoever to do with the creation of the Golem, nor with contributing to nor puncturing the enormous corpus of legends, wives's tales, bedtime stories, parables, and plain out tall-tales that have accreted over the centuries since Rabbi Judah Loew first created his monster, through a remarkable twist of fate we were among several parties entrusted in the mid-eighteenth century with the knowledge of the Golem's long-term resting place within the Old-New Synagogue. But the ravages of the Great War and then the coming of Heydrich led to the loss of that knowledge and many, many more secrets of great and terrible importance.)

Although we at the Ministry have long since given up our ongoing search for clues as to the current resting place of the Guardian of Prague, feeling it is a secret much better left to others, there is much business for us in Bohemia, matters that have gone unseen-to in the more than sixty years since Hitler's filthy butcher came to town. The city has awakened by degrees from the stultifying effects of decades of totalitarian rule, and is once again the scrappy, proud, and vibrant seat of independent Czech identity. Its hard times are not entirely behind it, but good times are ahead.

This brings me to my point. If any of the Ministry's readers have been to Prague in the recent past, do kindly let me know if there's anything I should, uh, know, before I go. There's nothing like greasy food, dumplings, smog, puppet shows, smoky bars, spectacular lager, and long, long walks to set my soul to rights, but since my talent for Slavic languages is limited and my knowledge of the terrain very small, any experiences you might care to relate would be greatly appreciated.

End transmission.

In a desperate but ultimately vain attempt to catch up on blog reading, I have been dipping into the Ministry Legion of Merit and speedreading all the fine material that has accumulated over the weeks of my neglect. One thing that jumped out at me was this post over at Texas Best Grok. John got hooked into a fascinating little speculative piece by Dan Simmons, the entirety of which can be found right here. Simmons has always been (well, since I started reading his stuff over a decade ago) one of my favorite writers. His science fiction is all sciency, his thrillers thrill, and his horror is creepy as all get out. The ease with which he slides from genre to genre is sickening to anyone who aspires to writing, and he is a storyteller with few peers. This little bit puts a creepy but all to plausible spin on something that has bothered me for nearly five years. Read it.

[wik] And also, congratulations to Mr. Lanius on his 200,000th visitor. Soon, he might be major perfidy.