'Strine Times

Thanks for the Memory to Russell Wardlow at Mean Mr. Mustard.

Wretchard at The Belmont Club is "Boots on the Ground" in Australia, and gives an excellent account of what's going on with the riots over there. Go gove it a read, and follow the comment thread (if you have the time), where he answers reader's comments and gives insight into what 's happening that you won't hear from the American media.

The Natives are Restless

NW Republican has an interesting pair of posts up here and here. They started when Ron Saxton's campaign manager, Felix Schein, wrote NWR an email regarding MWR's post Saxton Redu(pe). The gist of Schein's email was to try to defend Saxton's credentials as a Republican, and to question the commitment of Jason Atkinson to the OR GOP. The first post above was originally just a reprint of Schein's email. But after a response from Atkinson, NWR edited the post, then added the second, to address several inaccurate claims in Schein's email. TRhe exchange, and the comments, have been interesting.

But here's the part I would like to comment on:

In Schewin's email, he tells NWR "However, your posting on December 4th (Saxton Redu(pe)) requires a response, both because it was factually inaccurate and unusually personal."

Yeah, right. NWR has been posting for some time on the campaign, and has been openly critical of both the Mannix and Saxton campaigns, but this one particular post just stuck out? I find that hard to believe. Here's what I think is really going on:

Remember that yesterday I mentioned the debate between Oregon's three Republican Gubernatorial candidates and linked to others who had been there and reported on it? If you do, you'll recall that we were fairly impressed with Jason's performance. To be fair, we're a pretty biased bunch, being Atkinson supportes. But I find it interesting that this email came in the same time frame as the debate. Could it be, perhaps, that Saxton is starting to recognize Atkinson as a valid threat? I can understand feeling a need to defend ones own candidate, but why combine it with an attack on Jason, if he's not a real contecter.

Saxton and Mannix are both canny veterans of the political arena who have tried painting Atkinson's inexperience as a reason to not take him seriously. Well, I'll give them the benefit of the doubt about their own wile and guile. But that merely reinforces my suspicion. A canny political candidate is not going to waste time and resources attacking an opponent who has no chance of beating him -- especiall not an extraneous candidate in a three way race. If Atkinson was as insignificant as their supporters might have you believe, they would be ignoring him and going toe-to-toe.

No, I think they, or at least Saxton, take Atkinson more seriously than they let on. I think they recognize the groundswell of support he's getting, the attraction of the grassroots nature of his campaign, the advantage he has in having so many blogging supporters, and the strength of his message and his qualifications. I think they think he has a shot. and I think that means they'll be gunning for him more and more.

I think he can take it, and I think he gan give it right back.

Oregon GOP Gubernatorial Debate

Thanks for the Memory to Gully at Resistance is Futile!

NW Republican attended the first debate between the three front-running Republican candidates for the upcoming gubernatorial race, Here and Here.

The more I hear coming out of Jason Atkinson's mouth, the more I'm sure that, win or lose, he's the guy I'm voting for. I was particularly impressed with his response to this question:

Questions from the crowd -
"Where do you stand on abortion and right to die?"

Atkinson -
I'm prolife. I'm against right to die. I will uphold right to die and work toget the voters to undo it. As governor I will fight for right to die because I believe in states rights and disagree with the Federal government telling us what laws we can pass. I will fight for this on principle though I will also work to undo it. Same with initiatives as the people's will should be done by their public servants.(This is paraphrasing in a nutshell).

Exactly so -- Pro-Life, Pro-Rule of Law/Separation of Powers, and Pro-Small Government, all in one fell swoop. Good on ya, Jason.

I Walk the Feline

TFR rescued a small, wet, very scrawny kitten from the rain yesterday. We're not sure we can afford to take it in, so we're probably going to try to find someone to adopt it. If any of my Eugene readers want a cute, predominantly white tortoiseshell kitten, drop me a line.

Spooky Synchronicity

Last night I watched a documentary on the sinking of the battleship USS Arizona at Pearl Harbor. The documentary followed the progress of a commission that was investigsting just what type of attack caused the sudden, fiery death of such a huge ship. The conclusion was that the Arizona had not been struck by torpedo, nor had a bomb gone down her stack to take out the boiler. The explosion seen spouting out the stack is secondary -- the death blow was a single armor piercing bomb that penetrated her decks and exploded directly in the forward magazine, setting of the powder supply for her main batteries.

Here was the spooky part: The investigators gave their final report on their findings at 7:30 AM Eastern Time, September 11, 2001.

American Hostage Murdered?

Thanks for the Memory to The Jawa Report.

Blogfather Rusty is reporting that the terrorists have made good on their threat to murder the latest American hostages -- or at least one of them.

Rusty reports:

Reports have begun circulating that Ronald Schulz has been murdered.
The website used by The Islamic Army in Iraq, though, has not carried
this message. Instead, it was posted at an Islamic bulletin board. It
sometimes takes a few hours for these messages to become 'official'.
We had earlier reported that the deadline had passed without word from
the group.

Tune in to the Jawa Report for details as available.

It Was An Awesome Dream

Night before last I dreamed that Chevrolet took a cue from the new Ford Mustang and Dodge Charger, and redesigned the next model Camaro so that it was stylistically reminiscent of a 1967 Camaro SS.



Now THAT would be boss!

WAY Too Much Time on their Hands

Thanks for the Memory to Careful Thought via The LlamaButchers.

Dear Canada,

If you're this bored:

Margo Lillie, a doctor of zoology at the University of British Columbia, and her student Tracy Boechler have conducted a study on the physics of cow-tipping.

Ms Boechler, now a trainee forensics analyst for the Royal Canadian Mounted Corps, concluded in her initial report that a cow standing with its legs straight would require five people to exert the required force to bowl it over.

A cow of 1.45 metres in height pushed at an angle of 23.4 degrees relative to the ground would require 2,910 Newtons of force, equivalent to 4.43 people, she wrote.

Dr Lillie, Ms Boechler’s supervisor, revised the calculations so that two people could exert the required amount of force to tip a static cow, but only if it did not react.

“The static physics of the issue say . . . two people might be able to tip a cow,” she said. “But the cow would have to be tipped quickly — the cow’s centre of mass would have to be pushed over its hoof before the cow could react.”

Newton’s second law of motion, force equals mass multiplied by acceleration, shows that the high acceleration necessary to tip the cow would require a higher force. “Biology also complicates the issue here because the faster the [human] muscles have to contract, the lower the force they can produce. But I suspect that even if a dynamic physics model suggests cow tipping is possible, the biology ultimately gets in the way: a cow is simply not a rigid, unresponding body.”

I'm sure I can find something for you to do. The garage needs to be cleaned out, and I haven't weeded in months.

Silent Night, Watchful Night

Thanks for the Memory to Subsunk posting at Blackfive.

One of my favorite quotes is this one, often attributed in different variations to Orwell:

"We sleep peacefully in our beds simply because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would do us harm."

We would do well to remember that truth during this season when we celebrate Peace on Earth. There are those who will never show Good Will Towards Men, and as long as there are, the only way we will have any Peace is thanks to the efforts of those who go in harms way so that we need not. It is with that in mind I share this poem, found at Blackfive's:

A DIFFERENT CHRISTMAS POEM

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,
Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
a lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light.
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."
"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam,'
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
"I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?"
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."

Merry Christmas to all, and especially to those manning the thin red line between us and all we fear.

When the Karma Runs Out of Gas

Thanks for the Memory to Lars Larson.


An excellent essay on why Tookie Williams should die. And from an Oregonian, no less.

Air Marshal Shoots Passenger on Flight from Columbia to the US

Thanks for the Memory to The LlamaButchers.

The flight was headed to Orlando, but was diverted to Miami-Dade. The passenger was reportedly shot while the plane was on the ground.

As pointed out by the LB's, there's a reason we arm Air Marshals. Don't push it.

UPDATE:
Apparently, the passenger claimed to have a bomb.

Infamy

December 7, 1941.

It's more than a defining event, it's a defining date. It's one of those few events in history that most people recognize just from the date itself. December 7th. July 4th. Now, September 11th.

This particular date marked the US entry into World War II, an entry than most historians agree was inevitable. It roused the US from an isolationistic fantasy that ignored the ever-shrinking nature of the world, and it brought us into direct conflict with an enemy with whom we had been inexorably shifting into conflict. This was an enemy whose culture was completely different from ours, who viewed its way of life as inherently superior to ours, and who had no mercy for those who opposed it. Its goal was total domination of all lands it viewed as its by Divine Right. It believed that the only options were victory or death, and neither asking for nor offering quarter. In the end, only its complete devastation and utter defeat eventually brought about an end to the conflict.

No, I'm not comparing Hitler to Hussein -- that is another discussion for another day. I'm talking about the uncanny similarities between the Bushido-driven Empire of the Rising Sun and modern Wahabist Islam. The parallels to the modern day are startling, from the use of beheading as a means of execution to the glorification of suicide attackers as holy martyrs. The most uncanny parallel, of course, is between the devastating acts of treachery that brought each conflict home to America. I hope that the similarities need not extend to the means required to end the conflicts.

My Least Favorite Weather

38 Degrees and rainy. Don't get me wrong, I love rain. But if it's going to be colder than 40, the least it can do is have the decency to drop a couple degrees and snow.

Maybe I Should Just Say It Was a Bar Fight...

...'cause that would sound more macho than, "Oh, this fat lip? My 10-month old head butted me last night. You should have seen the blood. No, not his, mine."

Just Out of Curiosity...

Who keeps visiting my blog from NDSU?

I ask because The Feared Redhead attended UND, and has friends from school in Wahpeton.

Small world.

Disgusting

Thanks for the Memory to Two Babes and a Brain via Blackfive.

The Babes recently visited Walter Reed Army Medical to give aid and comfort to our wounded soldiers. While there, they met a wounded soldier named Joshua Sperling who showed him one lovely card that had been sent to him:



Awwww... Now isn't that just sweet? It's so charming to know that there are people out there who are willing to express their respectful, "I-Support-The-Troops-But-Oppose-The-War" dissent. I'm sure it warmed the hearts of the soldier and his family. It certainly made my day.

Ugh. Even being sarcastic about it, that made me ill. How disgusting. Don't get me wrong, I know that not all opponents of the war are this vile. But increasingly, a certain fringe element is becoming more and more strident in their rhetoric, becoming more and more hateful. It's obvious that whomever wrote this is a truly disturbed individual, and sadly, a young souldier had to suffer futher at the hands of someone he was wounded defending. It makes me sad and angry and sick to my stomach.

But there's something we can do. We don't have to rail against the evil, we can reinforce the good. Michelle Malkin has provided an address where you can send the good soldier a PROPER card. Follow the link, jot down the address, buy a card, and mail it. Let the young man know that most of us wish him well, and appreciate his sacrifice.

The Best Crow I Ever Had

Being first year new parents, The Feared Redhead and I don't often get a chance to get away from the house to pursue grownup activites, especially not together. Before last night, the last time we were able to do so was on our anniversary back in July. Last night was a welcome change. The occasion was TFR's work Holiday (twitch) Party. We left the house about 6:55 and arrived late, but didn't get home until almost 10:00. It was wonderful.

The party was held in a new restaurant here in Eugene called Vaquero, which has the same owner as the excellent Red Agave restaurant just down the street, and Oh.My.Lord! This place is now on my top ten list of favorite restaurants.

I have several criteria by which I judge whether a restaurant is an excellent restaurant or merely a good one. They are: Proactive Service; Attention to Detail; and Exceptional Cuisine. In all three categories, Vaquero shone last night.

Proactive Service: The difference between Good Service and Exceptional Service is not only the speed and accuracy with which the service is provided, but the effort or lack of effort required by the diner to obtain it. Last night I could be very very lazy. The level of water in my glass never dropped below 1/3 before it was refilled, without my having to do a thing. In most cases, summoning the staff was as simple as making eye contact, and in the one exception it was even easier: I hadn't even made eye contact yet when they were ready to assist. The fact that our hostess was an extremely attractive blond with a voice like silk didn't hurt. The only shortcoming was the amount of time it took the main course to arrive, but given that we were a party of around 50 and the entrees were not precooked, I'm inclined to overlook that, especially since the aforementioned hostess saw fit to place her hand lightly on my back and keep me appraised of the status of my plate. Take your time, my dear, take your time.

Attention to Detail: This was evident in many areas: The decor of the restaurant was an eclectic yet oddly tasteful mix of modern and classic elements: Dark wood and dim light, with floors of highly polishes particle board -- you'd think it would look unfinished, but it gave the decor an edge I really liked. The hardware in the bathroom was hammered copper with just a hjint of patina -- gorgeous. The aforementioned service was not only proactive, but also devoted to said details. At different times TFR and I left our seats to use the facilites, in both cases, our waiter had replaced our silverware and refolded our napkins. The presentatrion of our plates was understated but precise -- no wasted effort, but nothing left undone either.

Exceptional Cuisine: Three things make the food itself exceptional in any restaurant. Those three things are: Preparation, Presentation, and Palate.

When it comes to preparation, I expect an excellent meal to be cooked precisely as it should be, nothing even a bit overdone or underdone. Such was the case last night. I ordered my Petite Filet Mignon medium rare, and it arrived at my seat, wait for it.... medium rare. It was cooked exactly as I wanted it, pink in the middle but not bloody, tender and just the right temperature. The vegetables were cooked to the point that the no longer had that raw crunch, but they didn't show a single sign of wilt.

As for Presentation, that's a subjective issue, it's like art -- either you like it or you don't. I liked it. A steak dinner should not be overly fancy in it's presentation: Perfect grill marks on the meat, a little sauce pooled next to it, a bit of overlap of the elements, perhaps a small green garnish. That's what I got. Dessert was, appropriately, another matter, a baroque swirl of flavors and sauces, a medley of pastry and ice cream, with just a tasteful hint of powdered sugar giving support.

What I expect from the Palate is twofold: I want flavors tha compliment and complement each other, and I want to be served food I normally wouldn't or couldn't cook for myself -- if I wanted more familiar foods, I'd be at a more pedestrian restaurant. I got what I wanted. Don't get me wrong -- I cook a mean steak, but this one was an effort of love, and the accompanying dishes were both new and delicious, ant they neither upstaged the steak nor were they eclipsed by it. The one dish I did not like was the potatoes, and that was simply a matter of personal preference. It was obviously well made, and everyone else loved it. The sauce on the steak was some sort of tangy/spicy/sweet sauce, perfectly done, enhancing the steak's flavor without masking it. I've never before bit into a tender, sucvculent peppercorn. And the vegetables -- again, perfect. They were a grilled mixture of red bell peppers, zucchini, and King Oyster Mushrooms. I didn't get any peppers, which is just as well, because I don't really like them. But here's the thing -- and this is where I get the title of this post -- I don't really like Zucchini either, and I *HATE* mushrooms. Or at least I did -- until last night. The squash was just right, and the mushrooms? Well, they were ALMOST better than the steak. they were not mushy at all, but rather tender with a bit of a crunch, and they tasted meaty, and had absorbed the flavors of their baste, which I believe was the same sauce as that on the steak.

The beverages were a mixed bag. Because we were a huge party, the whole menu was pretty limited, not the regular menu of the restaurant. We had a choice of three complimentary cocktails, and I chose poorly. But again, this was a matter of personal taste, and I just picked the wrong beverage. TFR's was delicious. From there we moved on and purchased a glass of wine with the meal, selecting a blended red from Northern Spain that included Tempranillo grapes and which our waiter/sommelier informed us would go excellently with the steak. He was absolutely right. It was bolder and more full-bodied than our regular Pinot Noir, but not a heavy, overbearing wine. Is was also very smooth, and laked a lot of the bite of tannin that I don't like in stronger reds. The flavor lingered longer at the back of the mouth, and was very fruity, with hints of plum and berries. Almost perfect -- it stood up to the steak without taking over.

The appetizers, salad, and desserts were excellent as well. The appetizers consisted of coconut praws with a guava dipping sauce, bacon-wrapped dates, and sweet potato fritters. All were delicious, and cooked to perfection. While the prawns were the tastiest, I most enjoyed the fritters, because they were interestingly delicious -- an intriguing blend of sweet and savory, with one dominant herb flavor I could almost but not quite identify -- the waiter suspected it was the cilantro. I normally don't like salad dressing, but the savory dressing last night was actually tasty -- sorry if that's faint praise, but coming from me that's a high compliment. The desserts consisted of a banana cake (which tasted like banana brad would taste if it were made by the angels) with banana ice cream, a lime tart, and a chocolate espresso decadence with coffee ice cream that even The (normally coffee-hating) Feared Redhead thought was delicious.

The adult company, pleasant conversation, and festive atmosphere of giving and receiving gifts, and just plain getting out for the evening, only increased the pleasure of the evening. Indeed, a good time was had by all.

Bowling For The Holidays

So Oregon is going to the Holiday Bowl. And a lot of Oregon fans are upset. Me, not so much.

Oh, don't get me wrong. I think Oregon deserves to be facing Ohio State in the Fiesta Bowl. I think they're a better team than Notre Dame, I KNOW they have a better record and better rankings in the polls AND the BCS standings, and I believe that Notre Dame too often gets a pass just because of their name -- in both bowl pairings and in things like ref calls. The last time the Irish got such a free pass into the Fiesta Bowl, the Oregon State Beavers handed their arses to them. I hope the Buckeyes do the same this year.

But I have a special place in my heart for the Holiday Bowl. I lived in San Diego for 12 years, and remember what a good time the city shows to the players, coaches, and fans of both teams. And a Holiday Bowl is the only bowl game I've ever attended.

Back in December of 2000, Oregon went to the Holiday Bowl. It was Joey Harringtonm's first bowl game. Oregon faced Texas, and we were the underdogs. My mom treated me, my dad, my brother-in-law, and my nephew to tickets to the game. The Longhorn fans were loud and boisterous going into that game, but when the game ended with the Ducks winning 35-30, they got real quiet. That game was a tight one, full of emotional rollercoaster minutes, and ny the end I was horse.

My father died the next summer. It was the last football game we ever went to together. Back in high school, my dad announced my school's games, and I'd often join him in the announcer's booth. Football was one of many things we had in common. To this day, I miss watching the game with him, discussing the game with him. Every time Oregon wins, or USC beats Notre Dame, or Navy beats Army, or an NFL team either of us root(ed) for wins, I get this itch to call him and discuss the game. But of course, I can't. I miss my dad, I miss my football buddy.

So on December 29, when the Ducks take the field at Qualcom (which to my dying day i'll think of as The Murph), I'll be glad to see them there. And a little sad that my father won't be too.

Not Exactly Ducky

Thanks for the Memory to the Llama Butchers.

All American Kid

Popular but not plastic. Athletic but not a jock. Smart but not a brain. You were well rounded and well liked in high school.

Who Were You In High School?

Funny, that's not how I remember it. I would have pegged myself as a "Brain" or "Nerd", but after having talks with former classmates as adults, I have learned that this is, indeed, how OTHERS perceived me. Very interesting.

The Real Winners

Saturday was a good day to root for Navy. A very good day indeed. It didn't start out as promising as one could hope for, as Army scored first (never mind that that was the first Army lead in any Army-Navy game since they last won in 2001), and seemed able, at least for a quarter, to answer each Navy threat. But starting in the second quarter, Navy began to pull away, and never looked back.

In the end, though, do you know who the real winners were? We were -- this country, our military, our way of life. And that would have been true regardless of who won the football game.

I was thinking about it as I watched the game, as I sat there impressed that I was watching two of the least penalized teams in college football, as I watched the determination with which both teams played from the first kickoff to the last tick of the clock. I was amazed at their team spirit, their sportsmanship, their resourcefulness. As I watched this with the knowledge that these are the future leaders of our armed forces, I kept having one recurring thought:

We're in good hands.

There are many reasons bandied about for why the U.S. Military is so successful, has won so often, lost so seldom. The weight of our industrial might, our level of technology, the fighting spirit of the American solider, the motivation of the freedom for which we fight. And these all certainly have their place in explaining our success. But devotees of military history will tell you there's another reason we fight so well and win so often, especially in the context of specific battles:

The quality of American officers.

And I don't just mean our general staffs (though we've had some damned good generals and admirals, to be sure). Most of the graduates of our service academies will never acheive that rank. Some will, many will make colonel. Others will be majors, captains, lieutenants. Or in the case of the Navy: captains; Commanders, Lieutenants, Ensigns. But those are the very men to which I refer.

Our service academies have a tradition of producing officers who are bright, motivated, and confident. Of course, the enlisted ranks will tell you that means OVER-confident in the early days of their careers, but hte good ones take their lumps, learn their lessons, and truly lead. It's that quality, leadership, that makes the difference. Unlike the command structures of many of the totalitarian regimes we have fought, where power is concetrated at the top, US junior officers are created in a culture where they are expected to take initiative and make decisions on their own, on the spur of the moment, when the crisis demands. Sure, they're given guidelines and boundaries for their behavior (Standard Operating Procedures and Rules of Engagement), but when the chips are down, they know that they have the authority to react to the immediate situation without waiting for detailed instructions from above, if the situation warrants. And they are confident that they have been equipped with the right information and the right decision making skills to identify those situations. The history books are filled with countless tales of battles we won because a lower officer made a spur of the moment decision in the heat of battle that changed the course of events. Even in our darker moments, this quality in our officers shines through -- the massacre at My Lai was uncovered not by the press, but by a lowly Lieutenant who knew what his duty was -- to report the incident to his superiors.

In a way, Navy's victorious Option Offense on Saturday was a splendid example of just this kindo f thinking -- the Quarterback was given a goal to acheive, and general guidelines as to how the play would go. But as it unfolded, it was on his shoulders to make the ultimate decision as to whether to pass the ball, lateral it, or keep it. He was confident that the other 10 players would execute their part of the play, and he was confident in his own ability to make the right decision at just the right moment. And while he was wrong on a few occasions, he was right far more often -- often enough that his team won.

So the next time you want to thank or honor the military, remember the officers as well. They may not be as common as enlisted men, but they are just as deserving of our gratitude.