Talk About Single-Minded

Thanks for the Memory to Darth Apathy.

This is simply amazing. I've read of shots like that being made by snipers who had time to set ther shot up -- but in a reactive situation like this? Wow.

And as was pointed out, given the circumstances, I doubt there'll be any problem establishing that the police fired in self defense.

More Pictures of The Lad

Luke, Give in to the Cute Side. It is... your destiny:

The Closest They'll Come to Meeting This Side of Heaven

While we were in San Diego for my grandmother's funeral, w took The Lad to visit my father's grave at Fort Rosecrans National cemetery. My mother took pictures:









I'll never be ok with the fact that my son will never know my father. But he will know of him, and he will know to honor him.

It's a Start

04/29/2005

04/30/2006

Here's hoping history repeats itself (to a point).

Blogging Hope

Thanks for the Memory to The Llama Butchers.

If you haven't read her before, I second the Llamas' recommendation that you go read Melissa at Here in the Bonny Glen. She's witty, she's insightful, and she's a wonderful mom.

Today, she gave me a shot in the arm. Her post is sweet, and full of maternal love and pride. And it was what I needed to hear.

Why? Well, you see, The Lad just turned 15 months and still isn't walking. He can pull himself up to a standing position, but still leans on furniture, including human furniture (that's me!). Yesterday he managed to stand without support for a full second -- a huge accomplishment in my eyes.

But it's been discouraging. We knew from the start that despite how well he's done, he's still a preemie, and some htings might just take longer. And I'm delighted that in all other areas, he's right on track -- he's developing a vocabulary (last week he pointed at his shelf and said, clear as a bell, "book!"), and a distinct personality, and his fine motor skills are... well, fine. But the gross motor skills are still an issue. Part of it, I think is that his method of scooting is so effective (he's fast, and it leaves a hand free to carry stuff) reduces the incentive to walk. But whatever the reason, It worries me.

Then I read a post like Melissa's, and it reminds me that I'm not the only parent dealing with these things, and that if Melissa's "Wonder Boy" can do it, so can MY wonderful little boy. So thank you, Melissa. And congratulations.

Caps Lock & Load

Thanks for the Memory to the Colossus via The Llama Butchers, and also to Villains Vanquished.

Over the course of the last three years or so, in the ongoing discussion of the war in Iraq, one of the memes that opponents of the war throw in the faces of supporters is the the epithet of "chickenhawk". They've even come up with a nickname for pro-war bloggers -- "The 101st Fighting Keyboardists".

A few bloggers, including Captain Ed, Frank J, and Chief at Freedomdogs, decided to pull a "Yankee Doodle Dandy" on the phrase and turn it into a badge of honor. The result is a blogroll of proud "chickenhawks" -- and a unit patch:



Sign me up.

I've always thought that the "Chickenhawk" argument was disingenuous at best, especially when it's used as a rebuttal to arguments for the necessity of the war. So what's your point? Are you say I'm a hypocrite for making the pro-war argument, but not fighting myself? Maybe I am, maybe I'm not -- judging me on that point would require that you know a HELL of a lot more about me than is possible, considering I don't know you from Adam. But even if it were true, it has nothing to do with the validity of the argument I'm making -- it's an ad hominem attack.

Or are you saying that only those who serve are qualified, either morally or by merit of experiencial knowledge, to have an opinion on matters of national defense? I seem to recall that when Robert Heinlein proposed that system in Starship Troopers, it was decried as "fascist". And if you truly believe that, doesn't that disqualify YOU from speaking out on these matters as well? Sauce for the goose, you know. And what about the 132 million Americans who let only 4 millions fight for them in WWII? And are we all hypocrites for believing in laws, but not joining the police force? No, sorry, this argument doesn't hold up. While those who serve have earned a greater level of respect and honor than the rest of us, and while their acheivements in service of the country may make their qualifications for leadership more evident, they are no more qualified (or less, for that matter) to form and express opinions on matters that aafect us all than any of us are.

Beyond the logical inconsistency of the "Chickenhawk" attack is the personal nastiness of it. It states, often explicitly and always at least implicitly, that those who support the war but are not enlisted in the military are too afraid to fight. In fact, this insult is at the core of the supposed hypocrisy in being a chickenhawk -- why else the word "chicken"? But it commits another fallacy, that of the false dilemma -- it ignores a panoply of possible reasons why a person would be willing but unable to serve, and it ignores the fact that many of those who are not currently serving HAVE served in the past. I can't speak for veterans, but I should think they find this particular attitude insulting.

So that's why I'm joining the 101st. Yes, I support the war. It is horrific, and tragic, but not nearly so much so as the alternatives. No, I am not enlisting -- I tried that route, years ago, and got a "don't call us, we'll call you" brush-off from the Navy. But if I can't fight, I'll at least do my part by making sure that I honor those who can -- and do.

Schrodinger's Kid

Over the weekend as I was thinking about the parenting observation I made last week, I became aware of several other truisms about parenting and children (especially small children still in the larval and rugrat stages of development). These are mostly things I was aware of before becoming a father thanks to exposure to kids as an uncle, but became more acutely aware, and more introspective towards, as a parent -- namely these two: The more tired a child is, the more violently he will resist being put down for a nap; and the quieter a child is being, the more likely it is that they're getting onto trouble. I decided to express them as mathematical formulas.

The first is pretty simple: Ws=1/Ns where Ws is the willingness of the child to sleep and Ns is the need to sleep.

That second one is the trickier of the two. At first it seemed like simple Newtonian parenting: T=M/L, where T= The likelihood that the child is getting into trouble, M is their natural mischeivousness, and L is how loud they're being. But there is another variable here, and that's time -- it takes time to get into trouble (though not always a LOT of time). So I reassigned the variable L to represent the Length of time since you checked on them, and assigned V as the volume of the noise the child is making, and got T=(M/V)L.

But that's where Uncertainty and Superposition come into play. For starters, the value of M varies from child to child, and can even change for a given child, depending on mood, maturity, and how much trouble they got in last time. Furthermore, while it is true that as L increases, T approaches 1, you can never be sure that T has become 1 and the child really has gotten into trouble until you go check on them. Doing this, however, affects the outcome in a couple of ways: Like Schrodinger's cat, it fixes the value of T at either 1 or zero -- either they're in trouble or they're not. Secondly, checking on the child resets L to zero, and finally, if the child becomes aware that you are checking on them, this will alter their behavior (M).

There you have it, folks -- Quantum Parenting.

Semper Memoralis

Thanks for the Memory to Lisa at This Life.

And she's an Oregonian.

Trade Ya!

Thanks for the Memory to Vulture Six.

This guy is my new hero.

I'm Going In

Last time I tried to make Beer Butt Chicken, the weight of the chicken knocked the can over and the results were disappointing. But I recently picked up a litle metal frame intended to hold the can and keep the chicken upright, so I'm giving it another shot this weekend. Wish me luck.

Side note: when cooking with alcohol, my philosophy for choosing the right beer with which to cook is in opposition to my philosophy regarding wine: I never cook with a wine I wouldn't drink, but I never waste a good beer by cooking with it (well, almost never -- there are a few recipes that call for specific beer types). I am a beer snob, preferring local micro and craft brews. But when I cook, I prefer to use Bud or Old Milwaukee. I have a theory as to why: cheap beer tends to be weak beer, and thus it prvides the cooking benefits of beer without taking over the flavor of the dish. If you use a good pale ale or amber ale, the dish is gonna TASTE like pale ale or amber ale.

Gratuitous Use of Gratuitous in a Blog Post A La The Llama Butchers: Music Review Edition

I finally broke down yesterday and bought a CD I've wanted for some time:



I was not disappointed. Loretta Lynn's music and lyrics lend themselves well to the rock-tinged production of Jack White. And yet, despite having a real edge to them, they never abandon their country identity.

I bought the album specifically fothe song "Portland, Oregon", but ironically, it turns out it's not my favorite song on the album. That honor goes to the title track, a ballad about the romance between Lynn's mother and father.

And this "Rose" also has some thorns -- Loretta Lynn has not lost any of her attitude, her spirit, or the internal strength that has always marked her music. If you like old school, blues and bluegrass-tinged Country Western music, this album is worth getting.

B****Slap of the Week

Delivered to Susan Sarandon by Jeff at Beautiful Atrocities.

That's gonna leave a mark.

Required Reading

Thanks for the Memory to Dawn at Daily Record Blogs.

Before you argue against immigration reform from the standpoint that "Illegal immigrants do jobs Americans won't", go read Dawn's post and the linked Washington Times article. Americans WILL do those jobs -- but they will expect a decent living wage in return.

Mexitalia

Last night I tried my hand at a dish I'd been contemplating for some time, a Mexican Lasagna. No clever bastardization of Spanish and Italian comes to mind as a name for it. The point of the exercize was to see if I could make something that looked and tasted like lasagna, but had a Mexican twist to the flavors. I'd tried it once before, but the result tased like enchiladas. This time, success.

In the first chapter of A Christmas Carol, Dicken's writes, "There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate." The same is true of this recipe and my desire to avoid merely making enchiladas. For that reason, it is important to note that when the recipe calls for flour tortillas, what it really means is FLOUR TORTILLAS. If you use corn tortillas, you get enchiladas.

2 lbs ground beef or buffalo
12 oz. chorizo
2 15 oz. cans tomato sauce
1/4 cup chopped onion
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbsp oregano
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tbsp chopped fresh cilantro
8 oz jack or white cheddar cheese
8 oz queso fresco casero
4 oz queso Cotija
10-12 large (burrito style) FLOUR tortillas

Fold tortillas in half. Cut parallel to the fold into strips the width of lasagna noodles. Unfold and cut along the fold. Preheat oven to 350 F. In a large skillet, combine the hamburger, chorizo, and onions. Cook over medioum high heat for 10-15 minutes or until the meat is blended and firm. Add the tomato sauce, garlic, herbs and spices. simmer for 10 minutes, remove from heat.

Spoon a layer of meat sauce into a rectsangular casserole dish. Crumble a layer of Queso casero over the meat. Place a layer of tortilla strips over the cheese. Repeat the layers until the dish is almost full, ending with a tortilla layer. cover with grated jack or white chedar cheese, then with Cotija. Place in the oven and bake for 15-20 minutes or until the cheese is bubbling and golden brown. Remove from oven and let cool. Serve 8.

Your Weekly Dose of Steve Taylor Lyrics: Installment #3

And on time, this week.

Back to trying to be germane -- this one's been stuck in my head for some time. Given all of the issues I've taken with the MSM during the last couple of years (Rathergate, etc.), and the rise of the blogs, this one could have been written yesterday (except for the lame-attempt-at-rap cadence):

Meat the Press
From the album "Meltdown"

In a ninety-floor Manhattan address
lives a watchdog called the National Press
and around his collar's written the line
"The Protector Of Our Hearts And Minds"

Hark! Hark! The dog will bark
and we believe this hierarch
but read between the lines and see
this dog's been barking up the wrong tree

Meat The Press

When the ratings point the camera's eye
They can state the facts while telling a lie
and then watchdog shows to the viewers at ten
he's a bloodhound with a pad and pen
can't pin the blame--he's out of reach
just call the dog "His Royal Leech"
we held the rights for heaven's sake
'til we gave this sucker an even break

Meat The Press

When the godless chair the judgment seat
we can thank the godless media elite
they can silence those who fall from their grace
with a note that says "we haven't the space"
well lookee there--the dog's asleep
whenever we march or say a peep
A Christian can't get equal time
Unless he's a looney committing a crime
listen up if you've got ears
I'm tired of condescending sneers
I've got a dog who smells a fight
and he still believes in wrong and right

Meat The Press

One of These Things is Not Like The Others

How is it that a 15-month-old child, playing in a room strewn with toys thicker than a Cambodian minefield, will invariably zero in on the one out-of-place item he shouldn't have (eg. remote control, cordless phone), and decide that that is what he wants for his plaything? Without fail?

These are the mysteries of the Universe that overworked, under-rested fathers contemplate.

Plagiarism Revisited

Thanks for the Memory to The Sheila Variations and Emily at Second Breakfast.

Most of the blogosphere has heard of the really sorry tale of Ms. Kaavya Viswanathan, who has recently been busted for stealing many passages of her first novel, How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild and Got a Life, from other recent works by Megan McCafferty.

She also had the services of a "book packager," who is called that because they stand behind the scenes and massage workable novels out of the rambles of authors. In other words, she couldn't even plagiarize somebody else's work on her own - she required help.

It's a small advance for society, I suppose, that Ms. Viswanathan didn't merely throw it all on the anonymous packager. And she did contribute some original material. She and her publisher have announced that future editions of her novel will offer more of it in place of the stolen bits. In software terms, that means that "Opal Mehta" was a beta version pawned off as a finished product, requiring patches and additional work that the consumer should have gotten in the first place. I was rather hoping that the practice wouldn't catch on elsewhere. (And I Cullen Ken Nightfly should know, since I Cullen Ken Nightfly ran a blog carnival that blew up in my face some months back. Yes, it was my his fault.)

A REAL All Star

Thanks for the Memory to Michelle Malkin via Blackfive and It Comes in Pints?

Thirty years ago today, Rick Monday displayed his true colors, not just his team colors.

Quote of the Week

Thanks for the Memory to Flopping Aces via Allahpundit:

It has long been pretty obvious to me that the official-secrecy faction within the state machinery has received a gigantic fillip from the press witch hunt against Lewis Libby and Karl Rove. What bureaucrat could believe the luck of an editorial campaign to uncover and punish leaking? A campaign that furthermore invokes the most reactionary law against disclosure this century: the Intelligence Identities Protection Act? It was obvious from the first that the press, in taking Wilson and Plame at their own estimation, was fashioning a rod for its own back. I await the squeals that will follow when this rod is applied, which it will be again and again.

- Christopher Hitchens, commenting on the Mary McCarthy case

Tantas Cruzes

Thanks for the Memory to Ken at It Comes in Pints?

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. So what happens when you combine such a picture with an essay that's just as valuable?

You get Val Prieto's 3000th blogh entry at babalu. It's worth the read.