Quote of the Day

Thanks for the Memory to The Huffington Post via Right Wing Nation via It Comes in Pints?

"THE HUFFPO LIST OF THINGS TO BE FEARFUL OF!

Fear of a loss of individual liberty in response to the war on terror.
Fear that the paranoia over terrorism will erode everything this country was founded on.
Fear that liberals haven't degraded the education system enough so most people still know that Abraham Lincoln and FDR suspended many liberties to deal with similar crises

Fear of Mel Gibson
Fear that your angry denunciations of Mel Gibson will not detract attention from the rampant anti-semitism found at the Huffington Post.
Fear that Ari Emmanuel's "brave" attack on Mel Gibson said more about Emmanuel's opportunism than any sincere belief.
Fear that Emmanuel's client Michael Moore might be a bigger anti-Semite than Gibson.

Fear of George Bu$H
Fear that Bu$h is to blame for everything
Fear that Bu$h isn't to blame for everything
Fear that if you continue to blame everything on Bu$h, you won't actually figure out who really is to blame for your problems
Fear that your spelling of Bu$h reflects your intellectual prowess, in a nutshell.
And for that, you still blame Bu$h
And your parent$

Fear of Walmart
Fear of people who shop at Walmart
Fear that you might actually save money if you shopped at Walmart
Fear that Walmart has done more to help the poor than any social program ever created by our government.

Fear of all forms of energy except for the ones that don't work
Fear that people will realize the easiest way to cut back on greenhouse gases is to convert to nuclear energy
Fear that your activism will be exposed as a front for your narcissism
Fear that low taxes actually do create prosperous societies
Fear that people will find out what a hypocrite you are because you call for higher taxes while using tax shelters

Fear of mean people
Fear of judgmental people
Fear of appearing narrow-minded
Fear of intolerance
Fear that with your tirades against SUVs, Wal-Mart, meat, cigarettes, guns, whisky, and organized religion, you are the judgmental, intolerant one.

Fear of 3d ultrasounds that show fetal development
Fear that your children won't carry on your failed politics as religion/lifestyle

fear of being judged in the afterlife
fear of being judged in this life
fear of that dark facial freckle
Fear that your new age health practices won't be able to save you from that dark facial freckle

Fear of writers asking for fair compensation given there are ads sold by barry diller on the pages.
Fear that people will notice the contradiction between pushing for higher minimum wages and not paying the writers on your website.
Fear of not being invited to arianna/denton blog loft parties.

Fear of all country singers except for the ones that hate Bush

Fear that Deepak is laughing all the way to the bank

Fear that the exposure that you're being for the 'common man' is a joke considering you go to the only clubs and bars roped off to keep those people out.

Fear that when they take away your anger there will be nothing left.

Fear of free speech when it mocks your beliefs.
Fear of free speech when it speaks back to you.
Fear of free speech when it comes from Christians.
Fear of free speech when it comes from me.
Fear that your definition of free speech - that only you get to be heard-- won't fly with us Wal-mart shoppers.

fear of a police state unless of course it actually is a police state, like, Venezuela

Fear of Hugo Chavez dying
Fear of Castro Dying
Fear of Communism dying

Fear of Israel and their determined desire to blow up terrorists
No fear of Hezbollah and their pleasure in blowing up citizens

Fear of black Republicans
Fear that one day blacks will figure out you're the racist for always treating them like helpless victims instead of responsible individuals.

Fear that your comments are default responses to people who already agree with you

Fear that maybe shame is a good thing

Fear of rightwing "Repuglicans"
Fear of "crackpot Christians"
Fear that these fears do not measure up to the more legitimate fear of crackpot Islamists who blow you up in order to sleep with 72 virgins who are most likely lousy in bed anyway.

Fear of losing the next election
Fear that you'll have to put your support behind a candidate who was already exposed and rejected by the American public.
Fear that it might be Gary Hart.
And he still won't trim his eyebrows

Fear of Big Brother
Fear of group think
Fear that your lockstep obedience to progressive boilerplate is a purer example of subservience than anything you'd ever find in "Repuglican" circles

Fear that people will realize that a record of no terror attacks on the U.S. in five years, and liberating 55 million people in two Muslim nations, is not so bad.

Fear of having to come up with a new dehumanization campaign for the next Republican president.
Fear of not having to come up with dehumanization campaigns for radical islamists, kim jong II, the iranian mullahs and the EU and Russian oligarchs who took oil bribes from Saddam to keep him in power.

Fear that Foucault is not holding up to scrutiny.
Fear that common sense is making a comeback.
Fear that all those colonics did absolutely nothing for you.
Fear that grad school did even less.

Fear of the death penalty actually being a deterrent.

Fear that you'd experience more happiness from a Big Mac than from that bag of overpriced organic produce you bought at Knoll Organic Farms in Brentwood.

Fear of school vouchers
Fear that school vouchers will enable poor minority children to attend your children's private schools

Fear of a Marine knocking on your Prius's window to discuss your bumperstickers.

Fear that your own sense of rebellion is a farce and every opinion you have is safe and only voiced among those who agree with you

Fear of your conscience telling you even though you are supposed to like it, you really think NPR - especially its self serious whispering, wimpy bumper music and simpering anchors -- sucks.

Fear that the right to free speech is being curtailed.
Fear that when you bravely proclaim you're speaking "Truth to power," those who live in countries where the right to speak is truly curtailed are laughing bitterly at you.

Fear that your anti-Americanism is becoming even boring to you.

Fear that you hate the right for the same reason you hate your dad because you know that he is right and that you are a loser and you will always be a loser and that you are sabotaging your life and those of everyone around you because that makes you that angry.

Fear that everyone will notice that other than incessant complaining you haven't come up with a single solution.

Fear of never having a bad thing to say against the real tyrants of the world while having a rich vocabulary against a milquetoast GOP congressman from Georgia.

Fear of someone sitting you down and forcing you to deal with the fact that even if global warming was absolutely manmade and as bad as Gore says it is, that the threat of islamic terrorists getting WMDs and using them is far greater and imminent and requires offering at least moderate allegiance to the current president of the United States and to Tony Blair and Sen. Lieberman.

Fear of people snickering at you when you use the terms 'sustainable' and 'indigenous peoples'.

Fear of Nascar
Fear of Nasa
Fear of Nas (rapper)
Fear of NA (narcotics anonymous)
Fear of N (nitrogen)
Fear of nothingness

Fear that even if the democrats win the 08 election, Europeans will still look down on us and Muslims will still want to kill us.
Fear that capitalism actually works better than any other economic system
Fear that America really is the freest country in the world
Fear that going it alone when you think you're right is more moral than trying to build a coalition with dictators, thieves and cowards."

Bourbon Blegging

This is a request for input from any and all readers who are also Bourbon drinkers: I've recently developed a taste for the stuff, and I'm still defining said taste. While I know exactly what I like in Scotch, and which malts deliver it (Ardbeg and Laphroaig), what I like in the Bourbons I've tasted so far is completely different. So far I've tried Jim Beam, Maker's Mark, and Bulleit, and have to say that it's a photo finish between MM and Bulleit. Unlike Scotch, where I prefer smoky, peaty, really boggy flavors, I like the delicate, sweet, almost floral qualities of the two Bourbons I mentioned above. Beam was ok, and better than no whisky at all, but it seemed to lack the depth and sweetness of the other two.

So what other Bourbons would you suggest? Woodford Reserve has also been recommended to me by a liquor store manager in Portland, in the same breath as he mentioned Bulleit, and the local store manager concurred, so I plan to try it, but any other suggestions would be just as welcome.

Gentlemen (or ladies, as the case may be)?

Seeing Red

Few things suck worse than going back to a restaurant you once adored, and being not only disappointed, but thoroughly pissed off by the experience. Such was our fate tonight.

As I mentioned before, The In-Laws are in town, and offered to take care fo The Lad for the evening whilst we got away. This is not something we get to do often, so we jumped at the chance. None of the movies listed at the local theatre sounded good, so we decided to just go out for dinner and drinks. After tossing out a couple of names, we settled on Red Agave, a local Southwest/Latin bistro that is considered one of the best restaurants in Eugene. We've eaten there before, as well as at another restauraunt owned by the same people, El Vaquero, and had been blown away by the food, the drinks (including a Caipirinha that will kick your hiney and leave you coming back for more), the atmosphere, the entire experience. Besides, the owner is friends with TFR's boss, so we got a 20% discount. We were looking forward to a wonderful evening.

We got there at around 8:15, well after the after-work crowd, and since it was a Thursday, we got a table right away, asking to be seated at a sidewalk table. About twenty minutes later, the waiter got around to taking our drink orders -- Bourbon and Coke for me, a mojito for TFR. Another 15-20 minutes later, our food order was taken. We decided to be frugal and just order appetizers -- I had the flank steak skewers with a jicama and orange salad, TFR had the crab and spinach stuffed Anaheim pepper.

HALF AN HOUR LATER IT ARRIVED!

In the meantime, we saw neither hide nor hair of our waiter (exctept for the one time he asked TFR if she wanted another Mojito) -- the bus staff took better care of us during that time. We WERE, however, treated to the entertaining antics of the hostedd who kept wandering down the sidewalk to smoke with a friend from the business next door. Later, when we mentioned to her how long our food take, she explained that the stuffed Anaheim pepper takes a long time to prepare.

THEN WHY THE HELL IS IT SOLD AS AN APPETIZER AND NOT AN ENTREE?

Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the point of an appetizer to be somehting light and quick to prepare to tide the diner over until their meal is ready? So why whould you present as an appetizer an item that is filling and time-consuming to prepare? Sorry, I just don't get that.

And there was more to the poor service than the time required to bring us our order. What really bothered us was the lack of service from our waiter, who came across as a superficial and inattentive. He had the conversational style of a used car salesman, and you got the impression that except for getting our order right, he really wasn't concerned with paying attention to a word we were saying.

Here's the real tragedy: The food was freaking delicious. The flavors were complex but not confusing, the flank steak was cooked to perfection, the textures and aromas were wonderful. But I don't go to a restauraunt that expensive just for the food. Hell, I know half a dozen cheaper restaurants that will serve you food that will blow your MIND when it comes to flavor. When you pay that much for food, you're also paying for service, ambiance, and presentation. The service was atrocious. The evening was delighfully cool, but we rapidly became too frustrated to enjoy the ambience. And by the time the food arrived, it was so dark that the only lighting provided, a single tealight candle, failed to provide the illumination needed to appreciate the presentation. I could have paid the same amount of money for more food, just as tasty, with the same presentation at Sizzler.

And the service would have been faster.

Awwww.....

TFR's parents, who are in town visiting, are known to all their grandchildren as Nana and Papa. But the Lad can't quite pronounce that yet, so he refers to his grandfather as "Ba-pa".

Help Those Who Help Us

A local TV station, KMTR, ran a story that broke my heart as soon as I saw it. Go to their website. Once there, under Top Local Stories, click on the story entitled "FAR FROM HOME: Soldier unable to see newborn child" and watch the video. I'm sorry I can't find a transcript, as soon as I can find more. The gist of the story is this: A young Oregon soldier is being deployed to Iraq in less than a month, and planned to spend his last leave visiting his young wife and newborn baby daughter. But because the Army holds him financially responsible for Army-owned gear that was stolen from him, he cannot afford to travel to see her.

I understand the need to be responsible for the gear issued to him, and do not blame the Army for maintaining discipline, but I can't help but hurt for a fellow father. I am asking mt readers to keep this young soldier in their thoughts and prayers, and to keep their eye on this blog. I will post more information, and if anything can be done to help him, please get involved. This young man took an oath to defend us, and many of us sport magnets and such that say "Support the Troops". Let's do as we say.

UPDATE:
My faith in my fellow Americans has been confirmed, and my pride in my home state grown. Go back to the KMTR site and check the top local story, " Anonymous Donation".

Join Us

Thanks for the Memory to Ken S of It Comes in Pints?

Really, Ken, thank you. I'm glad you made me aware of this wonderful project. The goal is to find 2,996 bloggers to each pay tribute to one of the victims of 9/11. If you have a blog, I encourage you to sign up. You will be randomly assigned one of the remaining unassigned victims. It is then up to you to pay tribute to them in an appropriate manner.

If you read me, and you have a blog, I implore you to get on board -- even if you hate 99% of what I have to say. This isn't about politics, it isn't about making a statement one way or another about what has happened since that terrible day, it's about remembering wht happened ON September 11, 2001, and it's about remembering those who are no longer here because of it.

My tribute will be a post, the next one I post, which will be post-dated to 9/11/2006, so that it remains atop my blog until the fifth anniversary of the attack.

Please, bloggers, sign up, make this wonderful tribute a success.

Yeah!

What he said....

Musical Geography Question for the Day

Where were you going when you met with Captain Farrell?

Al-Robin, Brave Sir Al-Robin

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

Another valiant blow was struck against the Zionist occupation of Cascadia:

Authorities said a man walked into the Jewish agency on Friday and opened fire, killing one woman and injuring at least five others in what they call a hate crime. Naveed Afzal Haq, 30, was booked into the King County Jail for investigation of homicide and attempted homicide, police said.
The gunman, who employees said claimed to be a Muslim angry at Israel, forced his way through the center's security door after an employee had punched in her security code, said Marla Meislin-Dietrich, a co-worker who was not at the building at the time.

Staff members said they overheard him saying "'I am a Muslim American, angry at Israel,' before opening fire on everyone," Meislin-Dietrich said. "He was randomly shooting at everyone."

Hog on Ice and Andrea at A Crafty Madness both make a point with which I agree -- this is just one more example of the cowardice inherent and explicit in Islamic terrorism (and all true terrorism, for that matter) -- This pile of pig dung was "Angry at Israel", so what does he do? Does he move to the Middle East, take up arms, and face the Israeli Army in combat? No -- he storms into a Jewish center in Freaking SEATTLE, WASHINGTON, USA, about as geographically AND climatically distant from Israel as possible, and bravely SHOOTS A BUNCH OF UNARMED WOMEN, including one EXPECTANT MOTHER. Wow, he's a regular Saladin, that one.

But I also feel that the Western Left deserves a rebuke for this incident. A lot is being said about the civilian deaths caused by the Israeli attacks in Lebanon, but the people who are most harshly critical of Israel about this seem unwilling to address the fact that Hezbollah intentionally places their military assets dead smack in the middle of civilian locations, specifically so that it is impossible to attack them without putting civilians at risk. This is in direct contrast to most Western countries, who try to keep their military facilities as remote as possible, or at least establish buffers around them, to reduce the risk of civilian deaths.

So we have one side that tries to protect its own civilians, and takes great pains to avoid causing civilian casualties on the other side, even to the point (in the case of the US especially, but most western powers) of developing smart munitions, and engaging in self-flagellation when the inevitable happens, and we have another side that hides behind women and children, exploits their suffering for its own ends, and routinely -- no, not just routinely, but as a matter of practice -- targets its enemy's civilian population. And guess which side the left vociferously excoriates, and guess which side the left routinely marches in support of?

The Jewish Federation shooting should be hung like an albatross around the necks of all those Nuts who march in suppport of Hamas and Hezbollah. Your vocal support of extremist muslim groups, and the incipient antisemitism that is part of that support (whether as a result or a cause of that support is irrelevant) serves to rncourage this kind of violent behavior.

Can I Get a "Hell Yeah!"?

I stumbled across this quiz today:

Take the quiz:
What kind of muscle car are you?

1968 Chevrolet Camaro Z28
You are a 1968 Chevrolet Camaro Z28. You love your car....your friends love your car and thats whats most important to you! Your car really hauls ass! You feel bad that they aren't making Camaros anymore....but don't worry...cuz you know they'll be back!

Quizzes by myYearbook.com -- the World's Biggest Yearbook!

Oh, yeah! As I've mentioned before (I think), my absolute FAVORITE muscle cars are the Camaros from 66 through 69. Regardless of who takes top honors with regards to speed, handling, or acceleration, the Camaros are good, all-around muscle cars, and they look SWEEEEEEET! So when I took the quiz, I was quite pleased with this outcome.

The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round

Round and round,
Round and round
and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round....

You Learn Something New Every Day

I was just watching a program on OPB called Oregon Field Guide, and they did a feature on a condor breeding center in Southern Oregon. I learned from it that the original range of the California condor included Oregon west of the Cascades, all the way up to the Columbia River. Very cool.

Naptime News (aka Mr. MommyBlogging)

In the past month I've gained a lot of respect for other stay at home parents, and have begun to see the challenges. I'm blessed in that I had some advanced preparation -- for almost a year now I've been splitting shifts with my wife, taking care of The Lad while she was at work, so I didn't just step off into the deep end (more like the Marianas Trench!). But even though I was putting in almost as many hours alone with him then as I am now, there's a huge difference between that sort of arrangement and taking on the role of SAHD.

For one thing, the loss of adult socialization cannot be overstated. Oh, man, does it get lonely. The poor grocery clerks get an earful. I plan to do some research on playgroups in this area. Finding fellow parents with whom to socialize has been more challenging that I first expected -- there is a sort of reverse gender bias, and while people smile approvingly of my choice to be a SAHD, a man alone at a park with a toddler is not as quickly welcomed by the rest of the parents there as a mom would be.

Then there's the twin demands of childcare duties and housekeeping. Some chores are of a nature that if they're done while he's awake, he will get in the way, or cannot safely be done with him around. Examples would be laundry (try keeping a pile of folded clothes folded with an active toddler around) or cleaning toilets. These are best done during naptimes. Other chores are noisy, and can only be done when he's awake. Problems especially occur when a chore arises that fits in both categories -- noisy AND unfeasible in his presence.

Naptimes themselves are a challenge, since they are only semi-structured. I know roughly what time each day he'll need one, but am never sure how long it will last.

This transition has been a challenge, and I'm sure it will continue to be so. One issue I'm starting to see is an attitude creeping in to my wife's thinking that seems to expect me to be responsible for all domestic duties, even when she's home from work. It's an attitude for which our society is critical of men in traditional households, but I think it's just human nature. My wife has acknowledged the shortcoming and is trying to avoid it, but it still pops up from time to time.

Now if you'll excuse me, someone's up.

I'm Not a Bartender, But I Play One at Home

So last night TFR wanted me to fix her a cosmopolitan, but we were out of cranberry juice. I substituted some cranberry-blueberry blend, and it turned out pretty good. TFR wanted to come up with a special name for it, but nothing came to mind. We googled it, and there are blueberry cosmos already, using Stoli blueberry. I'm thinking that for real effect, I might try it with blue curacao instead of triple sec. Any name ideas? A blosmopolitan? a Blogosphere?

UPDATE:
We have a winner. I came up with it myself, but it was inspired by reader HMIL's suggestion of Bluegosphere, ehich reminded me of the fact that our little sphere is also called the Blue Planet. Combine the idea of a planet with Metropolis (which is similar to cosmopolitan), and taking into consideration that there is already a Metroplolitan, and I have decided to call this drink a Daily Planet.

I'll Think to Drat

I know, I took a lot of grief recently for admitting to drinking Rum & Cokes and Cuba Libres. So sue me, it's always been one of my favorites. As a kid, I used to add imitation rum flavoring to my cokes. It's a classic.

Recently I tried and discovered I liked the new Coke Blak -- it's not as sweet as regular coke, and I like the subtle coffee flavor to it. And yes, I tried it with rum, finding that dark rum worked the best.

But recently I tried it with another alcohol, and discovered I liked it even better. I've even come up with a name, but I still haven't decided on a garnish:

Black Irish

1 1/2 oz. Irish Whiskey
8 oz. Coke Black
3-5 ice cubes

Place ice in an Old Fashioned glass. Add Irish Whiskey and Coke Black, garnish with _____(?).

Senses Tingling....

Thanks for the Memory to The Maximum Leader at Naked Villainy:

Your results:
You are Spider-Man

Spider-Man 100% Hulk 70% Superman 65% The Flash 60% Green Lantern 55% Catwoman 55% Batman 50% Supergirl 50% Robin 40% Iron Man 40% Wonder Woman 25%

You are intelligent, witty, a bit geeky and have great power and responsibility.

Click here to take the Superhero Personality Quiz

Cool. Spidey's always been my favorite, and I didn't even try to work the quiz.

Musical Geography Question for the Day

If you made a good run, but you ran too slow, where did they overtake you?

Bonus Question:
From where is the sherriff?

Quote of the Day

Well, I once wanted to have bumper stickers made that read "Friends Don't
Let Friends Be Smug Arrogant Assholes Who Take Things So Fucking Seriously They Can't Even Take The Most Lighthearted Jokes Without Calling For A UN Committee To Open An Inquiry Before Writing Angry Letters To The Editors of Metropolitan Newspapers Proclaiming Their Disgust With The State Of Affairs That Actually Allows Human Beings Who Don't Share Their Political Opinions To Continue To Live, Let Alone Vote."

I was told there were issues with size and readability.

- Emily at It Comes In Pints?

Naptime News (aka Mr. MommyBlogging)

Three weeks since the layoff. I am amazed at how badly I missed having the internet, especially since it was not the only form of adult interaction I lost, all in one fell swoop.

The other, of course, was socialization with coworkers. I don't miss dealing with my customers. In fact, I'd say that one of the most noticeable changes from working tech support to being a SAHD has been the increase in the maturity level of my clientelle. And when he DOES lower himself to my previous customers' level, The Lad has an excuse -- he's only 18 months old.

It frightens me to think he's only that old when I observe some of the signs of advanced intelligence he's already displaying, including the occasional use of multi-word phrases (ok, 2 words), including some he put together himself, including "Uh Oh Down" when he fell the other day. TFR and I are in for a busy 18+ years. I'd consider it an argument for letting him be an only child, but if we have another one day, we can always use them to keep each other distracted (with Steel Cage Grudge Matches, if all else fails).

I have been a bit frustrated by my inability to get as much housework done as I had hoped. Certain chores can only be done while he's napping, because they entail going out into the garage (which isn't yet safe for him), or because they're things he interferes with, like folding laundry. I've learned to multi-task and do dishes while feeding him (hey, as long as I'm in the kitchen...), and pucking up is easy with him around -- because he likes to help, and actually does so with a minimum of getting in the way.

He's a water baby, and a true Oregonian. He loves baths -- we can't use the word around him or he demands one, and sometimes just the sight of the tub through an open door will set him off. We got him a kiddie pool, and he loves that, and the other day, when we had a gentle, warm summer rainstorm (as happens here in Oregon), he pitched a fit until I took him out in the yard to be rained on.

Life is starting to develop a rhythm, and I'm starting to get the hang of things, but I'm no Martin Stewart -- yet.

And that's a good thing.

A lesson from Oregano

'Tis a fine line indeed,
'Tween an herb... and a weed.

A Day Late and a Dollar Short

Well, I'm back. I know I promised I would be yesterday, but UPS was late delivering my DSL modem, and Qwest was late activating the account. But, better late than never.

Cue Theme Music from The Terminator

I'm posting from a public computer to let everyone know that thanks to the generous donation of a computer by Professor Dave (many thanks, David), I should be online from home and blogging on a semi-regular basis by this Thursday, and I have a lot to say....

I'll be back.

Memento Virtus (Remember, Virtue)

The esteemed potentate and royal sovereign of this corner of the Blogisphere, Brian C. Bilderback, is currently unable to post on his blog. Hopefully, that will change within the next two weeks. Until then, the venerable Monarch has duly appointed me as his Chancellor. He has requested that my first official act be to re-post something that I had written for him about two years ago regarding my thoughts on key political virtues of our (or any) democracy. Other than allowing me to post it, Brian is not to be held responsible for the following. Sincerely, Prof. Reed.

-------------------------

As you called for on your blog several weeks ago, there is a need for “righteousness” in American government. It is, in fact, a virtue toward which individuals and institutions are morally obligated to strive. Despite the claims in recent years by some in the political arena, the pursuit of justice has always been (to varying degrees) a part of the American experiment. This is evident in the three great documents of the American form of government – the U.S. Constitution, Declaration of Independence and Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. These documents wit-ness to certain principles, ideals and virtues that, above all others, the state must recognize and strive to secure:
• All citizens will have liberty
• All citizens will have equality
• All citizens will be justly governed – justice

Whereas liberty and equality are oriented toward the individual, justice (as the highest of the three) is always geared toward the common good [*]. Because “good” is a moral term, the common good should be understood as a political science about what is best and right for the whole. This is how and why justice will “run into” or at times “run over” liberty and equality. Of course, the devil is in the details, and our task as citizens of a representative republic is twofold: 1) to seek the proper definition of the common good and then 2) to create an atmosphere in order for people to achieve it. I am, of course, assuming that the common good exists as an objective standard by which our form of government should be measured.
[*] I recognize that these terms are not oriented wholly to the individual. They are corporate terms that possess specific personal and/or individual application.

This naturally leads to a discussion of rights (i.e., natural rights recognized, though not created nor established, by our democracy). Tocqueville wrote that it is by reference to natural rights that “men have always defined the nature of license and tyranny.” No nation can be called great without having respect for natural rights. It seems to me that a persuasive argument could be made maintaining that without this there can be no real civil society at all (unless one considers tyrannical societies to be “civil”).

Even a rudimentary survey of the history of democracy in America will show that liberty and equality have always quarreled with each other. And they will do so in any democracy. This is what Alexander Hamilton and James Madison feared the most when they considered the political future of America. In fact, this is the explanation for John Adams’ agonizing anticipation of the eventual failure of the American experiment, writing (in a private letter after his presidency) that “all democracies eventually self-destruct.”

As Mortimer J. Adler wrote in The Time of Our Lives (1970) the conflict in our society between liberty and equality occurs only when neither is limited by justice. The scope of potential application of this principle is extraordinary – from affirmative action to abortion. Only justice has the natural ability to resolve the inevitable tension and conflict between liberty and equality. Justice must be the controlling principle among these three since it alone has the ability to determine the scope of the other two without sacrificing either. Left unchecked, liberty will run roughshod over equality and vice-versa. Hence, when properly conceived in coordination with the common good and natural rights, justice must be recognized as the ultimate discriminating virtue in government.

Definitions:

Below are some detailed definitions of several key terms I have outlined above.

Natural Rights
There are several ways to define natural rights. I argue that natural rights should be identified by our natural needs. by implication, human beings possess no natural right that does not correspond to a natural need. Justice and natural rights are inherently linked together because our ability to determine right and wrong in both private and social contexts is based on what is really and objectively good.

A just government must recognize and secure the natural rights of men and women in order that they may be able to construct good lives. This is what the Declaration of Independence is speaking of when it mentions our natural right to “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” No government has the power to grant a good life. The good life entails the meeting of our natural needs through the possession of real goods, and the possession of those goods or wants that we have that do not interfere with our natural needs or those of others.

All of this is possible, of course, because all human beings possess the same essential nature. If this were not so, society would be impossible. This last point has been famously rejected by many political, biological, sociological and, sadly, even religious thinkers of the past century. Thankfully, not all have fallen into this serious philosophical error.

Liberty
To understand liberty properly (which is synonymous with freedom) we need to distinguish between four kinds of liberty. Circumstantial liberty is the ability and right of self-realization. Moral liberty is the freedom to perfect oneself (that is, perfection by means of virtuous character). Natural liberty is the ability and right we possess for self-determination. The final kind, political liberty, can be considered as a type or aspect of circumstantial freedom – that is, a person possesses political liberty or freedom only when they are living in economic, social, and political conditions that foster it. The essence or nature of this type of liberty is evidenced when an individual or society gives consent to be governed and has a voice in that government.

Equality
Like liberty, there are several types of equality. Political equality is based on circumstances, but is entitled to all human beings by virtue of their humanity (i.e., their common human nature). These conditions should be experienced by everyone. Specifically, these political conditions are normally identified by the following terms: status, treatment and opportunity.

The issue of slavery is a good, if not obvious, example to explore these conditions in more detail. In terms of status, slavery is wrong because no person is more or less human than another. From this it follows that every member of society deserves the same general treatment since no one naturally deserves more dignity than anyone else. As for opportunity, every human being naturally deserves the same opportunity afforded to others for the same reason – their shared human nature. If and when these conditions are not distributed equally, it is the duty of a just state to override liberty and do what is necessary to correct the situation (e.g., Brown v. Board of Education). Every person is by nature equal to all other persons and is, therefore, naturally entitled to an equality of political, social and economic conditions. America's greatest President and statesman, the honorable Abraham Lincoln, recognized this as one of the core principles of democracy, even though it was not evident in American society at the time. This is why he called the ideals in the Declaration of Independence as a promise to the future rather than a statement of current fact.

Justice
Aristotle (4th century B.C.) distinguished between two types of justice – universal and particular. Particular justice deals with such things as fairness in exchange, the distribution of goods, and taking corrective steps to ensure equality (like in the example given in the immediately preceding paragraph). It is clear to me that John Rawls, the late Harvard professor, was mistaken when he argued that justice should be limited to the idea of fairness in how we deal with others. When it comes to universal justice Aristotle asked the question, "what is lawful?" By this he meant to ask, what is right and good? This is why justice is recognized as one of the four cardinal virtues (along with courage, temperance and prudence). This idea can be traced back to Plato who had the insight to observe that justice involved virtuous acts toward others. It is universal justice of which we speak when discussing political justice.

Aristotle also recognized that, of all the species of animals that exist on our planet, only humanity is a political animal. When seeking to understand the proper relation of justice to the state we must ask whether the principle of justice is prior to the political state (including its constitution, laws, etc.) or if justice is relative to the political state. If it is relative then we are forced to into two positions. First, we must admit that justice is completely dependent on the power of the state, and second, that justice is the result of the state’s laws rather than the basis for them. This is tantamount to saying that justice is merely political. If we say, however, that justice is antecedent to the political state, then political justice is determined by natural justice. Understood this way, justice is natural and rational rather than conventional or man-made. If it were not, then justice would change with the coming and going of different political regimes. Therefore, because justice is natural it is universally binding on all people in all places and at all times. Any democracy in which the majority rules unchecked is ruling according to power not law (i.e., justice). This is a rule of might, not right; a rule of will, not reason. The American founding fathers made the wise decision not to allow a simple majority to determine most political decisions. This was, of course, based on the assumption that those elected to office would be virtuous enough to make their decisions on moral criteria and not merely political ones.

It was this definition of justice that led Lincoln to conclude that the obligations of a just government were to do for its people what they, individually, cannot do for themselves. The preamble of the U. S. Constitution summarizes these obligations well – “establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity.”

-------------------------

Run Silent, Run Deep

The exit interview is in ten minutes, then I'm gone. Until I can blog again, I want to thank everyone for reading me, and for making me feel like maybe you enjoyed what I had to say.

Shaken, not Stirred

Thanks for the Memory to relatively gentlemanlike Maximum Leader.

You Are 84% Gentleman

No doubt about it, you are a total gentleman. You please the pickiest ladies, and you make everyone in a room feel comfortable.

Are You A Gentleman?

I'm flattered.

Musical Geography Question for the Day

Where is it advertised, a hundred hearty sailors a whalin' for to go?

I Spy With My Little Eye

I've just started reading B.H. Liddell Hart's book A History of the Second World War. I have a lovely used hardback edition given to me by TFR our first Christmas together as a poor married couple. It was an incredibly thoughtful gift, very Gift of the Magi of her. But while I love the way the book looks on my shelf, in these entire 6 1/2 years, I've never bothered to read it, because it's so long, I didn't want to start and not be able to finish. But recently I decided to give it a crack.

So there I was last night, reading through the chapter on the Phoney War (hot bath + glass of port + thick book = Heaven) when I was struck by the following comment by Liddell Hart on page 38 regarding an incident in January of 1940 in which the Germans' original plan for invading France was revealed to the Allies due to the forced landing of a German staff officer's plane in Belgium in a snowstorm:

"But we know that Admiral Canaris, the head of the German Secret Service -- who was later executed -- took many hidden steps to thwart Hitler's aims..."

The reason this caught my eye is that one of the subplots of World War Two that has always fascinated me was the secret war: the resistance movements; The OSI and OSS; The Jedburghs; Berkeley Square; Bletchley Park, Enigma; The Man Who Never Was; etc. I've read several books on it, including the excellent A Man Called Intrepid. But while I'm aware of several cases in which Allied misinformation campaigns (including Operation Fortitude) almost came unraveled, only to be saved by the failure of Canaris' Secret Service to grasp things (as an aside: One amusing story was of a British expat in Spain, who was "spying" for the Germans, selling British secrets to Canaris' spies. Except he HAD no British secrets, he was a con man making stuff up. The Brits recruited him to give the Germans THEIR made up stuff). But while I wondered how Canaris could overlook so many clues so often, I'd never read anywhere before where it was implied he was actively subverting Hitler.

So a question to any readers who are bigger Dubyah Dubyah Too geeks than I: Can anyone recommend any good reading material regarding Canaris' anti-Hitler activities?

Musical Geography Question for the Day

If a headless Norwegian aims a Thompson gun at you and blows you away, where does your body end up?

Blood on the Oregon Trail

Thanks for the Memory to Coalition of the Swilling via It Comes in Pints?

Those two US soldiers have been found murdered. One of them was an Oregonian, and you can hear a final voice mail he left his parents here.

My thoughts and prayers are with their families.

So Much For That Theory

Remember when I mentioned that The Lad had taken his first steps? Someone reassure me I'd catch his second. They were proven wrong yesterday.

I did, however, catch his subsequent steps. And while he's still wobbly, and only takes steps towards a safe prop, he has officially joind the biped crowd.

Chili Con Carnal

I was going to try once again to break out of my recipe blogging slump, and once again I have something to offer that's not quite a recipe, but at least this time it's mine.

This is more like a story -- the story of the journey of a raw, 13 pound piece of meat, to it's final destination in my belly as succulent, tender, barbecued brisket. Mr. Priapus was good enough to track down a recipe for me. Of course, this was only my point of departure. As most of you know, I like to take basic concepts and apply local Oregon flavors and ingredients to them. So what was to be expected?

To try to adapt the marinade recipe to local ingredients, I analyzed what each ingredient in the original brought to the table: Sweetness, acidity, etc. Based on that, I found a set of ingredients from around here which, when combined, provided similar functions but dofferent flavors. Here is what I used:

1/2 medium sweet yellow onion, sliced thin
2 Oregon Myrtlewood leaves
1 cup soy sauce
1 1/2 cups red wine
5 crushed garlic cloves
1/4 cup Worchestershire sauce
4 tbsp apple cider vinegar
2 quarts cranberry juice
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup blackberry syrup
1/4 cup salt
1 6-pack Deschutes Brewery Obsidian Stout

And, of course, the 13-pound brisket. Now, normally, I get a little tired of the Texan obsession with size -- bigger doesn't necessarily mean better (case in point: Rosie O'Donnell and Kate Beckinsale. Compare and contrast, class). But in the case of brisket, they're right. A big, full-sized, untrimmed brisket has two things going for it: Lots of mass, which translates into better heat retention and thus better slow cooking; and lots of fat, which translates into better flavor.

Here's where a bit of old Oregon Trail Pioneer Ingenuity came into play, but unintentionally, and actually worked to my benefit. I didn't have a pot big enough for the brisket and the marinade, so I bought one of those plastic storage containers -- a 3 gallon sucker, like a shoebox on steroids -- and put the brisket in that. The marinade didn't come up over the brisket, so I let it marinate for 8 hours, then turned it over for another 8 on the other side. In the morning, the lid of the container made a perfect place to hold the brisket while I put the dry rub on the fat side, since my cutting board wouldn't... well, cut it.

The dry rub recipe sort of evolves, as I modify the contents of the jar each time IU take some out, but here are the main points:

1 part salt
3 parts sugar
garlic powder
onion powder
mustard powder
ground oregano
hot chili powder
smoked Hungarian paprika
ground sun-dried tomato mix

I used about 1 or 2 cups of this on the fat side of the brisket, then put it in the smoker. I placed a steel pan under it containing 2 cups of the marinade and all the onions and garlic from the marinade, as well as 1 shot each of bourbon, tequila, and Oregon apple brandy. I smoked it for five hours like that, then placed it in the pan with the marinade, liqour, and its own drippings, and smoked it for 3 hours like that, then removed it from the pan and finished with three more hours of smoking on the rack -- a total of 11 hours. While it was smoking, I made a pot of barbecued beans to go with it:

1 lb pinto beans, soaked overnight
6 pieces of bacon, chopped
3 oz piece of brisket fat, found in the package with the brisket and marinated along with it
1/4 cup blackberry syrup
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup unsulphured molasses
1/2 cup brisket marinade
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
1/2 yellow onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 Oregon Myrtlewood leaf
1/4 tsp geound oregano
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp paprika
1/2 tsp hot chili powder
1/2 tsp black pepper
1 tbsp salt
1 quart water

In a cast iron Dutch oven, I started cooking the bacon and brisket fat, then as they browned, added the onions and sauteed them with a pinch of the salt. Once they were caramelized, I deglazed with the brisket marinade, then added all the other ingredients. I brought hte entire thing to a boil, and let it boil for 10 minutes. Then I moved it out to the smoker, without a lid, to allow it to simmer for couple of hours exposed to the smoke. Finally, it was returned to the stove and covered with a lid to simmer the rest of the 5 hours I cooked the beans. The came out almost as delicions as the brisket, which was topped with my marionberry barbecue sauce:

1 cup marionberry syrup
2 15 oz cans tomato sauce, no salt added
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
1 tbsp kosher salt
1 habanero pepper
4 cloves fresh minced garlic
1 tbsp honey
1 tbsp ground oregano
1 tsp ground rosemary
1 pinch driend mint flakes
1 tbsp yellow mustard
1 tsp Hungarian paprika
1/4 tsp black pepper
2 Oregon myrtlewood leaves
1 tsp ground cumin

Combine tomato sauce, syrup, vinegar, habanero, and salt in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring constantly. Add the rest of the ingredients, reduce heat to low, simmer 3 hours or until habanero releases desired amount of heat. Remove and discard habanero, remove sauce from heat, and let cool.

All in all, a delicious meal. The next day, I decided I wanted chili. Actually, I had already decided on it, because I had an idea: usuallu good chili requires hours an hours of slow cooking, but since I already had the remainder of 13 pounds of slow cooked meat, why not? SOooooo....

Brisket Chili

1 cup barbecued brisket fat, trimmed from the meat and cubed
2 or 3 pounds (who measures? I just gessed) barbecued brosket meat, trimmed and cubed
1 yellow onion, chopped
2 12 oz bottles of beer (I used 1 24 oz bottle of Siletz Brewery Spruce Ale)
24-30 oz tomato sauce or puree
6-8 cloves minced garlic
1 tsp ground oregano
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp cayenne pepper powder
1 tsp hot chili powder
1 tbsp paprika
1 tsp mustard powder
1 tbsp salt
1 tsp black pepper
1 shot tequila

In a Dutch oven, render the brisket fat over medium high heat, removing pieces once there is 1/4 inch of grease in the pot. Sautee the onions with a pinch of the salt. When they have caramelized, deglaze with 12 ounces of beer, drink the other 12. add brisket meat, tomato sauce, tequila, and all spices. Bring to a boil, boil for 10 minutes, reduce heat, cover and simmer for 3 hours, stirring occasionally.

Chili is another issue on which I agree with Texans: NO BEANS! Sadly, for all her positive qualities, TFR doesn't agree. But this time I put my foot down, and the results were delicious. The Lad devoured it like the little carnivore he's becoming. TFR took my compromise suggestion and added some of Saturday's barbecued beans to her chili *shudder*, and I ate mine as God intended. Everybody was happy -- very happy.

BOOM!

Thanks for the Memory to Lurch.

12 KT Meteorite strikes Norway.

Wild stuff

Musical Geography Question for the Day

OK, this one should be pretty easy, so I'm throwing a few monkey wrenches in there: Bob can't answer; Ken has to wait until someone else has a go at it. There are three questions about the same song, and one of them is a trick question.

If it's Monday morning, and you're on a train pulling 15 cars, and it contains 15 restless riders, three conductors, and 25 sacks of mail, then:

1. Who runs this train?
2. From where is it departing?
3. Where is its destination?

Bittersweet Morsels, ParentBlogging Style

I didn't want to blog on this, because the circumstances bum me out, but.... The Lad tookm his first step Sunday night. Just one step, and he hasn't repeated it, but it happened.

And I missed it. By three feet. I was in the kitchen, fixing dinner. TFR told me, and by the time I took the step and a half required to look over the breakfast bar, he was back on his butt. I'm proud but sad that I missed it. Such are the ironies of a parent's love.

Parenthood is full of ironies:

I've said repeatedly that it is both humbling and yet a great source of pride to realize that The Lad is far better looking than I.

A baby is the most effective "Chick Magnet" on the planet. And yet, the one thing most likely to attract a woman is the one thing you normally won't have unless you've already attracted a woman (proof thad God and Darwin are conspiring against us).

I hate that The Lad isn't the cuddly little baby he once was, and that this sweet one-year-old stage will one day end, but I'm excited to see him become him, to get to know the person he is becoming.

Cue "Sunrise, Sunset".

Chili Reception

It's been a while since I recipe blogged, so....

Well, actually, this isn't my recipe, it's TFR's.

And it really isn't a recipe, so much as a brag about what TFR managed to do on short notice.

Friday will be payday, so naturally, the budget's tight, and we have to go with what's in the freezer/fridge. Last night, since she doesn't work Mondays, TFR asked if she could cook so I could relax for once during mealtime. Lord, I love that woman.

I'd pulled a pound of hamburger (ok, ground buffalo) out of the freezer, and we'd agreed on chili. TFR started pulling out leftovers and working with them, and the results were delicious. So here's what she used:

1 lb. hamburger
1 14 oz. container salsa
1/2 cup of hubby's leftover pizza sauce
1 can beans

brown hamburger in a skillet. Add other ingredients, simmer for 30 minutes over medium heat.

Your Weekly Dose of Steve Taylor Lyrics: Installment #7

(Sorry for the hiatus)

This week, the Steve Taylor song I present to you asks the question, does being acclaimed for your creative talents excuse your self-destructive and antisocial behavior? The song is Jim Morrison's Grave, and here's what Steve himself had to say about it:

"The idea started a couple of years ago when I went to Paris and visited Jim Morrison's grave. The experience made me think a lot about who Jim Morrison was and what he stood for. I was into The Doors' music and read a biography of Morrison called, No One Here Gets Out Alive. As I read the book, a picture emerged of Jim Morrison as someone who embraced the Rock-n-Roll myth, 'It's better to burn out than to fade away.'

"I guess he thought of himself as somewhat of a 'tortured artist' who not only believed that genius justifies cruelty but that genius and selfishness are inseparable. And that's really how he lived his life. He was very cruel to the people who were close to him, even the people who loved him. So this song is just my thought about going to the grave, almost a stream-of-consciousness lyric.

"'Jim Morrison's Grave' asks the age-old question: Does artistry justify being a weasel? The last line of the song is, 'The music covers like an evening mist/Like a watch still ticking on a dead man's wrist." Morrison left the world some intriguing music. As far as I'm concerned, that's not enough."

Jim Morrison's Grave
From the Album I Predict 1990

Am I a pilgrim
or another souvenir hound
in the city of lights
I set my sights
on a king's domain

It was a manhole
dug over at the edge of town
and a spray can scrawl
on the cemetary wall
said, "You'd better behave"

Jim Morrison's grave

It's getting cold here
and there ain't a lizard in sight
did the end begin
when you shed your skin
in the home of the brave

Somebody shake him
from the land of larger than life
where the remnants warn
of a legend born
in a dead man's cave

Jim Morrison's grave

I stay driven 'cause there's nowhere to park
I can't shut my eyes--I'm afraid of the dark
I lie awake
that stone left me chilled to the bone
sound the alarm before it's done
find Jim Morrison

Come away to Paris
let him see another day
let him fade out slowly
only fools burn away
let a true love show him what a heart can become
somebody find Jim Morrison
find Jim Morrison's grave

I get weary
Lord, I don't understand
how does a seed get strangled in the heart of a man
then the music covers like an evening mist
like a watch still ticking on a dead man's wrist
tick away

Heady Cone

Thanks for the memory to Lurch.

So very cool. Go watch.

Musical Geography Question for the Day

If she's standing by the water, looking to sea, where is she waiting for you?

(VULTURE SIX IS NOT ALLOWED TO ANSWER THIS ONE)

Musical Geography Question for the Day

If you've a slack jaw and not much to say, where are you?

Damned With Faint Praise

Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention yesterday, I got one more birthday present on Monday. Smallholder finally responded to me with regards to Illegal Immigration. Well, OK, I didn't forget to mention it, I didn't see it until yesterday afternoon.

I suppose I should be glad that he clarifies his belief that I, myself, am not "knowingly" prejudiced:

I do not feel that Brian is intentionally basing his anti-immigrant stance on concious prejudice. Once again I got caught up in the heat of the moment and used words loosely and did not mean to give great offense to our blogsopheric buddy. Brian is a good man and would not conciously hold ideas that were prejudiced.

But I'm not sure that "unwitting dupe of prejudiced ideas" is that much of a step up. Oh, well, you take what you can get.

He then goes on to say,

Many of the folks on his side of the argument are prejudiced. And prejudiced in ways that require them to contort logic. When presented with clear evidence, in the form of FBI records, that immigrants are slightly LESS likely to commit crimes than native-born Americans (or should I say nativists?), there is a pause and then "what about Hispanic gangs!" come right back out. As if Hispanic gangs are not included in the FBI statistics and as if Tookie Williams and the Crips are an export of Tijuana.

Funny -- most of the people I talk to on this side of the illegal immigration debate believe exactly as I do. Yet they’re prejudiced, I’m not. And he did it again. Notice the absence of the word "Illegal" in front of the word "Immigrant". That is a glaring and important omission. I called Smallholder on it in an earlier post, and he backpedaled, saying it was an unintentional gaffe, and I accepted that explanation. However, given his stubborn insistence on using this particular ploy, and further given the tone of Monday’s post, I can no longer trust the sincerity of that apology. Fool me twice, and all that.

So before I continue to respond to Smallholder’s post, let us make this point painfully clear: Despite what Smallholder would have you believe about us, I and those like me on this side of the Illegal Immigration debate do NOT hate immigrants, we do NOT oppose immigration; we oppose ILLEGAL immigration. We’re quite aware, thank you, that most if not all of us are descended from immigrants, and we have a great deal of respect and admiration for those who play by the rules and come to this country legally.

One commentor on Brian's site, and I'm calling Lurch out by name, makes the farcical argument that, FBI statistics be damned, illegal immigrants must commit more crimes since they have shown a willingness to violate immigration law…. … Perhaps we are more likely to believe them Hispanics are capable of crimes because they are.... icky.

Well, considering Lurch never saw your original reference to the FBI study (because he onmly reads my blog usually), I don’t see how his comment could be construed as “FBI statistics be damned”. And implying that my best friend is an anti-Hispanic racist isn’t really progress after clarifying that I’m not.

Interesting thing about that FBI document Smallholder references. I read the quote he mentioned, and it specifically refers to immigrants, not illegal immigrants. Again, that’s an important distinction. And it’s a distinction that Lurch made in his comment to my earlier post (he pointed out that he did not believe that the illegal immigrant population was representative of Hispanics in general) – a distinction Smallholder ignores in implying that Lurch thinks “Hispanics are icky”. Smallholder says, “Note that the conclusion that illegals have a lower crime rate than citizens…” Um….. Again, the study doesn’t say anything about illegals, it says immigrants. Repeat after me, Smallholder: Not all immigrants are illegals.

But it’s not the only time in his post that Smallholder does that in the post, as we will see as we progress:

On the anti-immigrant side of the argument you have the following threads:

Anti-ILLEGAL Immigration. Get it straight!

Economic: Immigrants are bad for America.

No, ILLEGAL immigrants are economically bad for America.

Refuted.

Interesting that right after taking Lurch to task for “ignoring” the FBI study, Smallholder then readily “refutes” the economic costs of Illegal Immigration, studies (many of which are readily available with a simple Google search, and some of which were provided by reader Polymath in a Maximum Leader post) be damned.

At this point, in order to discuss economics and Illegal immigration, the difference between legal and illegal immigrants is VASTLY important, even more so than on the issue of crime. The reason for this is simple: Large numbers of illegal immigrants, especially in border states and western agricultural states (that’s redundant, isn’t it?), do NOT, contrary to Smallholder’s assertion, obtain false papers and get legitimate jobs paying at least minimum wage and withholding taxes. Maybe some do, maybe even a large number, but I suspect that, especially out here, the completely undocumented illegals are if not the majority, a very large minority at the least.

So let’s take both groups separately. With regards to the group relied on by smallholder to support his argument, namely, the group that is using fraud to pose as legal workers (but the only crime they ever committed was crossing the border, I thought? Huh….), they provide not a single valid economic advantage to the US economy that can’t be provided by streamlining the immigration process and making it easier to admit more LEGAL immigrant workers (something I’ve advocated all along, as have many others).

So that brings us to the completely undocumented illegals: the day laborers working for lower than minimum wage with no benefits, withholding, etc. The only reason they are economically cheaper than citizens or legal immigrants is because their illegal status and the threat of discovery allows people to hire them for lower wages than they could get away with for a legal laborer. And while they may provide an economic benefit, especially for their employers, I’m not sure it’s as big an advantage in the long run as Smallholder claims. One study indicates that the cost of labor accounts for only 6% of agricultural production expenses. A shift from underpaid illegals to higher paid legal immigrants and citizens isn’t going to suddenly result in $5 Avocados, folks. And no, rich folks in California aren’t going to stop having their roses trimmed just because they have to pay Juan $8/hour instead of $4.

But even allowing for some cost advantage to hiring such underpaid illegals, economists have for some time pointed out the myriad of drawbacks: artificially deflated wages in certain industries; the financial strain on certain government services (more on that in a moment), the added burden on the prison system….

Which brings us to this:

Crime: Immigrants lead to higher crime rates.

Actually, that’s a gross misrepresentation of the argument against illegal immigration from the effects of crime. The real argument for our side is this: A porous border that allows people to cross with near total impunity is bound to attract, and has attracted, individuals who intend to cross over into this country in order to engage in activities far less innocent that merely seeking work. Furthermore, the shadow society created by such a large number of illegal immigrants, and their willingness to help each other avoid deportation, makes it easier for the criminal element within their community to hide from and escape prosecution. And while this criminal element may (or may not) be a smaller percentage of their population that the crime rate in general (a claim that is not established by Smalklholder’s FBI study of IMMIGRANTS IN GENERAL, not ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS), given the estimated millions of illegals crossing the border, even a single digit percentage of them would amount to tens of thousands of predatory criminals. Securing the border against all (or ass close to all as possible) illegal immigrants will also contribute to preventing these criminals from entering.

The examples cited: Los Angeles Gangs; Oregon drug rings and child molesters are not meant to prove that immigrants in general are more criminally inclined, but that a lax immigration policy has made it easy for these individuals to import their crime.

Refuted. Government statistics definitively show that immigrants are, if anything, slightly less likely to commit crimes.

This is true, but also irrelevant, because WE’RE TALKING ABOUT ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS, NOT ALL IMMIGRANTS IN GENERAL!!!!!!!!!

Now, back to the economic cost/benefits analysis of illegal immigration:

Tax fairness: Immigrants don't pay their fair share of taxes and use social services.

Immigrants do, ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS DON’T!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sorry, Smallholder, but I’m not going to let you “Big Lie” this into a general immigration debate, this is about ILLEGAL immigration.

[Illegal] Immigrants actually pay the same sales tax on all purchased goods

Ummmm…. No. This assumes that all goods and services are taxed at the same rate across the board. This is certainly not true in California (they have a few illegals, don’t they?), where necessities like food and medicine are not taxed, which means that low income illegals, less likely to purchase luxury goods, are not paying sales tax on the same percentage of their purchases as are higher paid legal immigrants and nationals. Furthermore, one state near the border, my home state of Oregon, has no sales tax at ALL.

and do not get any of the taxes they pay under false social secutiry numbers back. They do not get welfare or social security (becuase they are illegal).

Two things:

1. I’m to assume that they’re willing to commit fraud (not a crime, I suppose, since the only crime they ever commit is crossing the border) in order to get jobs, but not to get government services? Riiiiight……

2. This may come as some surprise to Smallholder, but Federal assistance in the form of welfare and Social Security are not the only forms of government assistance available, and are not the only burden an individual might place on the system. There is state assistance. Here in Oregon, the U of O, in conjunction with the State and the Mexican Consulate, actually held seminars for illegals on how to apply for and get all sorts of government assistance. In California, Illegals account for very high percentages of the uninsured motorist population, as well as uninsured visits to emergency rooms.

Job theft: Immigrants steal jobs from hard-working Americans.

No, ILLEGAL immigrants steal jobs from hard-working Americans and LEGAL immigrants.

Anti-immigrant folks are also typically opposed to raising the minimum wage because it will eliminate low-level jobs by rejiggering employer's calculations of marginal utility, but somehow magically think that an indirect lift of the minimum wage would not have the same effect.

Again, Smallholder’s argument here is based on ignoring the fact that American and legal immigrant workers must be hired for the minimum wage, while a large portion of the illegal population can be hired for less.

Plus, Republicans are supposed to value hard work and individual initiative.

Yes, we also value a level playing field, one that doesn’t exist when legal workers are given an artificial limit to what they’re able to do to get the job (work for less than minimum wage), a restriction that illegals are not hampered by.

How hardworking are Americans who are outcompeted by folks who don't even speak English?

In other words, Yanquis are icky and lazy and deserve to be unemployed.

Or maybe they’re outcompeted because that minimum wage vs. subminimum wage imbalance gives illegal immigrants an unfair edge? Hmmmm……

The Law is the Law! We should punish all wrongdoers: "What part of illegal do you not understand?" When the legal purists demand the harsh punishment of speeding and fellatio, I'll pay more attention.

That was never MY argument, so I’ll let the strawman defend himself in my comments. Or not.

Assimilation: Hispanics, unlike all other immigrant groups of the past (aside form the involuntary immigration of Africans), will not assimilate. Open to question. BUT, historical trends say they will.

The popularity of La Raza and the Chicano movements among young Hispanics in the Southwest would seem to indicate otherwise. But since this is not an argument I’ve ever made against illegal immigration, I’ll not belabor this point.

American Morality. Talking with the Foreign Minister, I realized there is another aspect to the immigration situation. Given that legalizing currently illegal aliens will lessen the countrywide financial benefit of illegal labor, on purely economic grounds we ought to make sure that they never get legal status. Of course, such a Machiavellian stance has moral implications: Is it okay to exploit the willingness of immigrants to work to benefit ourselves while at the same time denying them basic benefits of American society? This is troublesome. I don't know where I stand here.

I know exactly where I stand on this one: Using their illegal status to force them to work for less than Americans would is not only unfair to American/legal immigrant workers, it is a form of economic slavery, and is equally victimizing of the illegals themselves.

Elitiism. Rich middle class people only like immigration because it threatens the poor and less fortunate.

Not an argument I’ve made. Scarecrow?

Smallholder would have you believe that opposition to illegal immigrants is opposition to all immigration, and is thus racists. I hope I’ve made it painfully clear that those of us on this side of the argument don’t oppose all immigration. As Lurch says, “among those of us who oppose illegal immigrants, the "immigrant" part is not the thing that concerns us.” And I hope it’s clear why this distinction is important.

I wonder if perhaps there isn’t a little bit of reverse racial bias in Smallholder’s point of view: The implication of image of all immigrants, and by ignoring the distinction, all illegal immigrants, as honest, hard-working simple folk without an evil bone in their body, is that anyone who opposes them must be racist. It couldn’t possibly be that we oppose illegal immigration for any other reason.

Could it?

Happy Birthday

Note: This was supposed to be posted on Tuesday, but somehow Blogger didn't get the memo. I was wondering why no one was commenting:

Multiple reasons to celebrate this weekend, beyond the good news about culinary school.

Yesterday was my birthday, so I took a vacation day and just doing whatever I wanted. TFR was very good about taking over the childcare duties for most of the day. I'm blessed to be married to her.

She gave me a couple of belts for my birthday, along with the boxed set of all three extended version LOTR movies. We watched part of Return of the King last night, making it to the lighting of the signal fires. There are still some major discrepancies that bug the heck out of me, but the extended versions are much closer to the books that the theatrical releases were.

My mother sent me a check with instructions on what to buy for myself, and it was perfect:



I've dubbed it "Old 97". It's not as hard core as a hand-built, competition-grade smoker, but it's a step up light years from the "R2 Unit". I bought it on Saturday and started working on it between chores, finished it and cured it yesterday, and played with cooked on it all day yesterday. TFR tried apologizing last night that I had to cook on my birthday. Sweet, misguided girl.

To add serendipity to the weekend, on Thursday I received a parcel from my mother. Included in it were some items of memorabilia that had belonged to my grandparents. Among them was a decanter that I had always admired -- cobalt blue, it was a commemorative released in 1969 on the 50th anniversary of the American Legion (my grandfather was proud of his veteran status), and originally contained bourbon. But the most prized contents of the package were my grandfathers pipes. I've loved the smell of pipe smoking since I was a boy because of him, and have wanted to inherit his pipes since I took up pipe smoking myself. Most of the pipes are currently unsmokeable -- the stems are either broken or missing, and they're just bowls. Those will eventually go on display (when I have the space and a proper place to do so), but one or two are either still smokeable or of high enough quality to be worth refurbishing.

Almost as exciting was the piece of notebook paper I found, on which was written, in my great-grandfather's handwriting, the following recipe (verbatim):

Smoked Fish

Cut fish- & Soak in Salt
Water - 1 hour. Dry off-
Oil & rub each Piece &
Put brown sugar on it-
Quite a bit. Pepper if
you like - five or more
hours- hickory chips &
Mesquite-

As luck would have it, I happened to have a smoker (see above... hehehe...), so I tried the recipe on a salmon filet and a steelhead filet yesterday while I was smoking a pork roast at hte same time. It was delicious.

Because of the decanter, I'd gone out and bought myself a small bottle of Makers Mark, and so last night I smoked my grandfather's "Missouri Meerschaum" (corncob pipe) and drank my first glass of Bourbon (on the rocks). It's good stuff, but I'm still a Scotch man.

All in all a good birthday.

I'm In!

I received this email yesterday, and saw it for the first time this morning:

Congratulations! You have been accepted into the Lane Community College Culinary Arts program for fall term, 2006.

You will soon receive a letter in the mail outlining what your next steps will be to enter the program. As you know, you will be responsible for paying a $275 application fee, but please do nothing yet until you receive the letter with instructions. We are also offering a limited number of scholarships to help defray the cost of your first term at Lane.

So, please stay tuned. If your address or phone number changes, please let me know and be sure to change it in ExpressLane also.

Thank you...you'll be hearing from me again soon.

For all those who have been supporting me, thank you.



*Update

Yes, Bobgirrl, I realize this means I have to up my garlic powder.

O.....K.....

Thanks for the Memory to Vulture Six.

Roth: Return to Van Halen 'an inevitability'
'It's not rocket surgery,' says singer

"Rocket surgery"? I'm no brain scientist, but I think ol' Dave's taken a few too many hits off of the ol' "hookah", if you know what I mean....

The Searchers All Say

I was pleased (but not surprised) at the number of people who got my Edmund Fitzgerald musical geography question right. Professor David, while late to the party, gave the most detailed answer. That didn't surprise me either, since like me, he and Lurch (my to best friends from college) have been fascinated with the story of "the Pride of the American Side". For me, it started the first time I heard Lightfoot's song. When TFR and I honeymooned in Northern Wisconsin, we stopped in Duluth, MN, and visited the Lake Superior Marine Museum, which has an excellent display on the Edmund Fitzgerald, including a model of the wreck on the bottom of Superior, as well as a model of her as she was before the wreck.

For them, it was part of where they grew up -- in Michigan on the shores of the Great Lakes.

When I decided to do a Musical Geography question on that song, I originally intended to ask the question, "To where would 'She' have made it if she's put 15 more miles behind her?" The answer, of course, is Whitefish Bay.

That line in the song is, to my mind, one of the most haunting. And it's a significant commentary on storm-related shipwrecks in the Great Lakes, especially Superior, which tend to happen at a greater rate than even the open ocean. In a recent documentary I watched on that subject in general (not just on the Edmund Fitzgerald), it was mentioned that a significant factor in this is the relatively short distances from one end of Superior to the other. On the open ocean, with enough advanced warning, a ship can outrun an advancing storm, putting enough distance between themselves and the weather to go around or make a safe port. In the Great Lakes, you run out of real estate very quickly and have to turn north or south to make safe harbor, and that's when the storms get you. In addition, the relativer dhallow depths in the Great Lakes (as compared ot the open ocean) increase the danger for ships, especially when they cause the storm swell to break.

David called me last night and recommended a newer book about her, Mighty Fitz by Michael Schumacher. Thanks, Chancellor, I'll check that out.

Memorial Day

This post was originally written on May 30, 2005, just before last Memorial Day. I have decided to bring it up to today, because I really can't add anything to it.

(Posted early, since I won't be near a computer on Monday)

I have memories from my childhood and even my early adulthood of my parents and grandparents going to cemetaries around San Diego every Memorial Day to place flowers on the graves of relatives who had served in the military. I always thought it was a nice sentiment, but felt no urge to participate.

Now my own father and grandfather lie in such graves, and I, far from those cemetaries, wish I could be there this weekend to follow my family's lead. I wish I could, in person, honor the memory of these men who so nobly served their countries. So I will have to settle for honoring them here, in my Blog.

It is customary on this holiday to remember the way in which our honored dead died heroically for their country. And certainly that is a righteous custom. but while neither my father nor my grandfather died heroic deaths, they did live heroic lives. And that, in my estimation, merits honor.

My grandfather was the quintessential Man's man: a rugged, handsome chap who in his lifetime worked as a farmer, a ranch foreman, a Navy machinist's mate, and a pioneer in the field of harvesting salt from the sea. He lived an outdoor life, and adored fishing and hunting. I remember the time he visited us in Southern Idaho. He wanted to try his hand at Idaho's trout, and was disdainful of our proposal that we fish the local irrigation canals. Disdainful, that is, until he saw the size of the lunkers lounging right beneath the surface. I'd never before seen my usually stoic grandfather so excited.

He served in the Pacific in World War Two, and when his ship went alongside to help another that had been struck by a kamikaze, he went over the side and into a burning compartment to rescue other men.

I loved to go for drives with him to the Salt Works at the south end of San Diego Bay where he, like his father before him, was the superintendant. He would take me for rides on the "dinky", the narrow gauge railway used to transport harvested salt. He smoked cheap cigars, and had the slyest wink in the world.

His final days were filled with pain from the cancer and old age that finally took him. But he never ceased to be dignified and courageous. I wasn't there when he passed, but I did have a chance to tell him several years ago that I planned to name my first son in his honor.

My father was a different kind of man, but all the same he was the best man I've ever known in his life. His childhood was full of tragedy and heartache. His mother died of gangrene when he was 5, and childhood polio guaranteed that he would forever be small and beset by medical issues. But he made up for his physical stature with a giant personality. He aggressively attacked life with a suprirsing vigor his whole life. As a teenager, he worked on a cattle ranch in northeastern Oregon, and rode bulls on the side. He attended Bible College, and then joined the Navy, graduating at the top of his class in basic training and in advanced school, and served as a sonarman on the destroyer USS Bausell, DD-845. he played all sorts of sports, both in school and the Navy. The stories he told of his days in the Navy were always fascinating and often highly amusing. After leaving the Navy he and his new bride moved back to his beloved Oregon. It was there that they had me and my sister. It was there that he began and eventually ended his career as a pastor. He served in churches in multiple towns in Oregon, as well as one in Idaho. In all those towns, he made sure he was more than a passtor, he was a friend and a citizen. He served on volunteer fire departments, risking his life on several occasions and prompting a huge, shaggy Idaho farmer and atheist fellow VFD member to comment, "Preacher, you're one hell of a man!" Indeed.

He was more demonstrative of his emotions than my grandfather, and I grew up being hugged, told I was loved, and supported. I loved leaving the house early on a Saturday morning to go fishing with him, stopping at a convenience store on the way for a pop and a candy bar. He was active in our schools, announcing games, serving as a crossing guard, teaching little league softball, chaperoning events. I remember seeing the inside of his coat jacket, patched together with different colors of thread, as he went without new clothes so my sister and I didn't have to. I understood that my father loved me very much, but it wasn't until four months ago, when my own son was born, that I understood just how much.

My father taught me to fish. He taught me to hunt. He taught me to drive and to throw a ball and ride a bike. But he also taught me to care for people, to be good to others, and to love God. I know my own shortcomings and the ways in which I'm not as good a man as my father was, but he instilled in me enough of himself that I can hold my head up.

My father served his country. He served his community. He served his family, and above all, he served his God. For all of that, he is my hero.

This is my Memorial, this is their Day.

UPDATE 5/26/06
The ship on which my father served:

The USS Bausell, DD-845
Builder: Bath Iron Works, Bath ME
Keel Laid: May 28, 1945
Launched: November 19, 1945
Commissioned: February 7 1946

A Message from Mexico to the United States:

Haga como digo, no como hago.

Thanks for the Memory to Babalu Blog via It Comes in Pints?

Your Blog is Suffering From What We Veterinarians Haven't Got a Word For

In case you haven't noticed, I'm in a bit of a blogging rut here. Sorry to disappoint everyone.

Musical Geography Question for the Day

If you've just heard a bell chime 29 times, in what city are you?

Musical Geography Question for the Day

If you're a desperate man and the sh*# has hit the fan, where are you hiding and what do you need?

Pulling My Fat Out of the Fire (Literally)

I barbecued a brisket on the smoker on Saturday, and narrowly averted a very expensive culinary disaster.

I was aiming for a distinctively Pacific Northwest flavor, so instead of a complex dry rub, I seasoned it with salt, pepper, ground rosemary (for an evergreeny flavor, very Northwest), garlic powder, and hot chili powder. The source of smoke was alder (a traditional wood for smoking here) chips, apple chips, and rosemary sprigs. Partway through the smoking process I placed it in a shallow foil pan with the contents of a 22 oz. bottle of Oregon craft brewed beer -- this time Siletz Spruce Ale, which replaces most of the hops with sitka spruce tips -- the fresh new growth at the ends of the branches. Later, I glazed it with a glaze made of marionberry syrup, vinegar, and spices, the leftover of which I mixed with a tomato-based barbecue sauce, the results were delicious.

So when did the near disaster occur? Early in the process, before I transferred the brisket into the beer baste. Normally, I keep whatever cut of meat I'm smokinf fat side up until it's time to glaze it, but with the more involved process I had planned, I wanted to turn the brisket fat side down for a short time to let that side get a good smoke. Before I did, I noticed a pool of juices sitting on top of the fat layer. Loath to let it go to waste, I took a ramekin and tried to scoop it up. Unfortunately, I put too much pressure on the brisket, and the grill came off its brackets, falling into the drip pan, which subsequently came off of its brackets, and the whole thing fell into the coals. Before I had time to react, I had a face full of steam and ash and a $25 piece of beef sitting in a fire.

My first reaction was to grab for the brisket, but I couldn't see, so I tore my glasses off of my face, lifted the main section off of the smoker, and rescued the brisket. Fortunately, the water had doused the fire and washed off the coal hpan where the brisket hit, so it was unburned and relatively free of coals and ash -- it was a breeze to clean off. And because the whle thing had tipped to one side, only half the coals were doused -- I had the fire going again in no time, and within 10 minutes the brisket was cleaned off and back to smoking away.Only then did I clean off my face and change my shirt and hat. And it was a half hour before I noticed the first degree burn on my face.

One taste of the brisket, though, and it was worth it.

Tonsorial Travails

The good news is, The Lad no longer looks like a little girl.

The bad news is, he no longer looks like a baby, either.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go listen to Harry Chapin and get maudlin.

Good Will Blogging

Thanks for the Memory to best friend Lurch, who really should have a blog:

Wise and Honorable
It appears that on a scale of 300 you are: 30 boorish, 0 artless, 0 currish, 0 craven

This quiz has measured your responses in four areas.

Boorish: How rude are you?

Artless: How dumb are you?

Currish: How mean are you?

Craven: How cowardly are you?

"How far that little candle throws its beams; So shines a good deed in a naughty world" (The Merchant of Venice)




My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 50% on boorishYou scored higher than 0% on artlessYou scored higher than 0% on currishYou scored higher than 0% on craven

Friday, May 19, 2006

Paying the Piper in Millibars

For most of this week, we've been enjoying unseasonably warm weather here in Oregon. On Monday, it was 96 in Roseburg, where I was born, a 10 degrees hotter than the previous record for that date. The reason was that we've had two low pressure systems, one stuck to the west of us over the Pacific, and one stuck over the mountains, and they've been funneling warm air up from the south. Well, it was due to happen eventually -- they unstuck, and I awoke this morning to raindrops on our living room skylight. Oh, goody, just in time for the weekend.

Your Weekly Dose of Steve Taylor Lyrics: Installment #6

Considering my post earlier today, this seems like an appropriate choice of songs. Steve wrote it in memory of a young Polish man who was killed by Soviet troops during the Solidarity protests of the 80s:

Over My Dead Body

From the album "Meltdown"

After the Nazis we were baited by the Russian bear
our "liberators" wanted Poland for a thoroughfare
I was a victim of December 1981
I took a final beating from the blunt end of a Russian gun

You plant your missiles while our people wait in line for bread
you hang an army tank above us by a bloody thread
you bought our government they crawl like bleating sheep to you
we know from history that human life is cheap to you

chorus:
Over my dead body redemption draweth nigh
over my dead body I hear a battle cry
try and blow out the fire--you're fanning the flames
we're gonna rise up from the ashes 'til we're ashes again

You make a mockery of all that we hold sacred here
you drive us underground in hopes that we will disappear
we seek our sanctuary where the altar candle burns
our dignity's a legacy the cross of Jesus reaffirms

(chorus)

After the Nazis we were baited by the Russian bear
our "liberators" wanted Poland for a thoroughfare
rise up my brothers don't despair the Iron Curtain's rod
someday we'll draw the string assisted by the hand of God

I was a victim of December 1981
I took a final beating from the blunt end of a Russian gun
you made a memory--the memory will multiply
you may kill the body but the spirit--it will never die

Jude

Thanks for the Memory to Vulture Six.

This is just damned scary.

Human rights groups are raising alarms over a new law passed by the Iranian parliament that would require the country's Jews and Christians to wear coloured badges to identify them and other religious minorities as non-Muslims.

"This is reminiscent of the Holocaust," said Rabbi Marvin Hier, the dean of the Simon Wiesenthal Center in Los Angeles. "Iran is moving closer and closer to the ideology of the Nazis."

Iranian expatriates living in Canada yesterday confirmed reports that the Iranian parliament, called the Islamic Majlis, passed a law this week setting a dress code for all Iranians, requiring them to wear almost identical "standard Islamic garments."

The law, which must still be approved by Iran's "Supreme Guide" Ali Khamenehi before being put into effect, also establishes special insignia to be worn by non-Muslims.

Iran's roughly 25,000 Jews would have to sew a yellow strip of cloth on the front of their clothes, while Christians would wear red badges and Zoroastrians would be forced to wear blue cloth.

This isn't that suprising a move, considering the popularity of Hitler in the Middle East (outside Israel, that is).

What is remarkable is the utter brazenness of it. It's one thing to see the individual and mob-driven expressions of antisemitism in the Middle East, and even hear the nutjobs who pass for political leaders spouting such rhetoric. But to revive such historically loaded policies like this really does give one a start.

We made ourselves a promise some 60 years ago -- Never Again. Iran, it would seem, is hell bent on making us own those words. What we do with them will determine whether they are a mark of honor or a badge of shame.

Vocabulary Test

Thanks for the Memory to LMC of The LlamaButchers.

These results don't surprise me:

Link: The What Would the Bard Call You? Test written by drew30319 on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

Your Linguistic Profile::

75% General American English

5% Dixie

5% Midwestern

5% Upper Midwestern

5% Yankee

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

For starters, I was born and live in Oregon, a state that was populated by immigrants from other states. In addition, I spent a good portion of my life moving, living in Oregon, SoCal, NorCal, and Idaho by the time I was in 4th grade, and went to college in Indiana, surrounded by students from all over the country and even the globe. All of those regional influences make me linguistically what my ancestry makes me ethnically: a mutt.