Gut Check Time

Thanks for the Memory to Drudge via Vultures Row:

Update:
Blogs for Bush links to the Drudge Article, and also has related news.

XXXXX DRUDGE REPORT XXXXX WED OCT 27, 2004 12:42:01 ET XXXXX

ABCNEWS HOLDS TERROR WARNING TAPE

**Exclusive**

In the last week before the election, ABCNEWS is holding a videotaped message from a purported al Qaeda terrorist warning of a new attack on America, the DRUDGE REPORT has learned.

The terrorist claims on tape the next attack will dwarf 9/11. "The streets will run with blood," and "America will mourn in silence" because they will be unable to count the number of the dead. Further claims: America has brought this on itself for electing George Bush who has made war on Islam by destroying the Taliban and making war on Al Qaeda.

You can read the rest over at Drudge.

Well, the terrorists can't make it any blunter, can they? They hate George Bush, they want anyone but Bush in office. So what do they do? They try to pull a Spain on us, and blackmail us into defeating Bush.

Just to note, for once I have some respect for the MSM. According to Drudge, "ABCNEWS strongly denies holding the tape back from broadcast over political concerns during the last days of the election." Whatever their reasons for holding back the tape, they were right to do so. If they planned on airing it prior to 11/02, I retract my respect. Airing the tape rpior to the election does exactly what the Terrorists wanted -- offers us an ultimatum.

So what's it going to be, America? Do we cave in, and show the terrorists that all they have to do is threaten us, and we'll give in to their demands, or do we grow a spine and tell them where to shove it? It's gut check time. Are we Free men, or are we serfs to the demands of murderous mullahs?

My response? Well, I'll borrow from a far more praiseworthy American:

I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death!

Scotland the Brave

Thanks for the Memory to my mom.

According to Britain's Ministry of Defense, 850 British soldiers, mostly from the Black Watch, are joining the party in the Sunni Triangle.

According to the Reuters article, the plan is for the Scots to take over for American troops already there, freeing up the US forces for a major push on Fallujah.

As a military history buff and one with Scottish ancestry, I'm proud of the friendship between the United States and Great Britain, and I wish the Regiment good luck in Iraq. stay safe, lads, and may the terrorists learn from bitter experience just why your enemies nicknamed you the "Ladies from Hell".

Tonight on a Very Special

Blogs for Bush (not Blossom, sorry):

Matt Margolis interviews Richard Miniter, author of "Shadow War."

This is an important interview, good food for thought if you care about the War on Terrorism.

See? B.S.

Thanks for the Memory to Drudge via Ace of Spades HQ.

I really, honestly thought that my days of blogging on stories in which CBS news combines blatant political partisanship with really lousy journalism techniques was over. Honestly, I did. I figured, heck, they're probably still as partisan as ever, but getting burned as badly as they did on Memogate, they've learned to be a bit more judicious in how they act upon it.

How naive of me.

This time the "Big Story" being touted by CBS is the 350-400 tons of high explosives missing from Iraq. The slant to the story was that this is proof that the US is losing control of Iraq, that we were lax with security, and that the world is in greater danger because we dropped the ball. The Kerry campaign even took advantage of it and criticized the Bush administration for letting this happen.

But there are a couple of issues with the story that CBS conveniently omitted. First of all, the explosives have been missing since April of 2003. They've already been reported on. Secondly, the explosives were already gone by the time the first American troops ever arrived at the munitions dump for the first time during the invasion. They were already gone -- how were we supposed to have guarded them before we were there?

So yeah, that's poor reporting. But assuming it had been a good story, it is newsworthy -- how does that make it partisan?

Well, according to breaking news at Drudge, CBS planned to hold the story until October 31st in order to minimize the response time allowed the Bush camp: Jeff Fager, executive producer of the Sunday edition of 60 MINUTES, said in a statement that "our plan was to run the story on October 31, but it became clear that it wouldn't hold..."

See, the LA Times decided to run the story, and CBS essentially got scooped. They couldn't hold off on the story, so they ran with it.

And now, Ace links to Garfield Ridge, who is reporting that the document that alleges the missing explosives may be fake.

Hmmm.... Dubious documents, incomplete reporting, blatant political machinations.... yup: This is CBS.

Repeating the Cycle

I finally got back on my bike and rode to work this morning. Usually I spend all summer doing it, but this year, I was normally so exhausted in the morning from taking care of the Feared (and hyperemetic) Redhead, I was too pooped to pedal. But one of my bachelor coworkers, who worked with me at the old job and is in training with me at the new, decided to splurge with his first paycheck and buy himself a bike, so I agreed to commute with him. Besides, it's a really good idea -- I want to get in shape so I can live long enough to see the expected little one grow up. So here are the stats from our first morning:

Distance: 4.4 miles
Average Speed: 10.5 mph
Time of Ride: 25 minutes 43 seconds

I am now officially out of shape. But it's a start. the challenge will be buying theright gear to stay dry and warm once winter really arrives. I'm still a little numb, but I'm glad I did it. Biking is the one form of exercize I actually enjoy.

Winging It

So I dropped the Feared Redhead off at work this morning, and as the car door opened, I heard what has become for me the definitive sound of fall, and had to blog on it. It's a sound I grew up with, but went without for 12 years living in San Diego. Then I moved back to Oregon, and that first fall back, the sound came to my ears again and I realized you could experience 12 years of longing in the same instant that you experience its fulfillment. What is this magical sound, you ask? Why, of course, it's the honkers. The Canadian Geese are on the move.

Every fall they migrate south, every spring the migrate north. Here in Oregon, it stays warm enough yet never gets too hot for a few to stay year round, or to linger later than the majority of their brethren, but for the most part, the seasons of change bring the sound of huge flights of them all engaging in an avian call-and-response chorus as they wing their way urgently overhead. It's a paradoxical sound, one that is both melodious and cacaphonous, sad and joyful. In the same voice it speaks of the wistfull farewell to summer and to green northern climes, and the enthusiastic expectation of sunny lands to the south. And it is, as I have said, the sound of fall. The wind that brings the geeses wings brings also a hint of chill.

Fall is the time of such paradoxes, a time of trade-offs. Gone are the bright summer days with their seemingly endless sunshine, here instead is the crisp air and the clean smell of rain. Gone is the ubiquitous warmth that mocks the need for excess clothing, here instead is an excuse to nestle in as close to your lover as you can. Here in Oregon, our falls are not as spectacular as back east, because the deciduous trees do not have the same monopoly. In exchange, we are comforted by the knowledge that once the leaves have fallen, it will still be green. The flowers are gone, but the harvest is in. And while we may not be able to enjoy as many outdoor activities as we did over the summer, there is a whole new set of things to do. It's not as liberating a season, but it is much cozier.

And so when I finish here today and step back outside, I'll listen again for the sound of the honkers, and I'll wave them a farewell for the winter. I'll still be here when they come back in the spring.

Fame as an Argument

Thanks for the Memory to Vultures Row. My friend Scott over there has issued an Open Letter to Matt Damon, in response to the former Mrs. Afleck's offer to pay someone one million dollars to get John Kerry into the White House.

I was going to leave Scott a comment repeating my policy on political statements by celebrities, but instead I've decided to repeat it here, and then expound on it. The Memento Moron policy statement on celebrity activism is stated thus:

I fail to see any valid reason to attach added credence to the opinion of someone whose chief source of income is derived from speaking words someone else thought of for them, simply because that income is large or affords them acclaim.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that celebrities don't have a right to their opinions, nor am I objecting to their use of their celebrity status as a platform to express those opinions. The Bully Pulpit is, well, as the name implies, bully -- in the T.R. sense of the word. Heck, that's what I'm doing in miniature by blogging. No, if you can get more people to listen to you because they like your movies, more power to ya! Nor am I even saying that celebrities are incapable of having intelligent opinions. Not of necessity, that is, though many are.

What I'm saying is that while their celebrity affords them a broader venue for their opinions, it does not automatically confer validity upon those opinions. Fine. Matt Damon believes thus. Why should I believe thus also? Just because Matt Damon does? Please. that's the logical fallacy known as appeal to authority, and it's a piss-poor authority at that. No, if a celebrity is going to use their fame to be heard, they'd darn well better be prepared to deliver a rational, cogent, logical argument for their position. If they do, I'll listen, consider, and decide. But as long as they offer their celebrity as a rationale for their argument, I'm not buying.

A Bit of Advice for Jimmy Carter:

Stick to building houses.

Thanks for the Memory to Darth Apathy.

Jimmy was interviewed last night on MSNBC's "Hardball" with Chris Matthews.

As Vic points out, the fun begins right out of the gates, and by the first commercial break he has his foot firmly implanted in his oral cavity. my comments in italics:

MATTHEWS: Let me ask you the question about—this is going to cause some trouble with people—but as an historian now and studying the Revolutionary War as it was fought out in the South in those last years of the War, insurgency against a powerful British force, do you see any parallels between the fighting that we did on our side and the fighting that is going on in Iraq today?

CARTER: Well, one parallel is that the Revolutionary War, more than any other war up until recently, has been the most bloody war we‘ve fought. Well, yeah, Jimmy, if you consider the 1860's recently. the Civil War was our bloodiest conflict ever, dimwit. Gettysburg alone killed as many Americans as Vietnam-where-John-Kerry-Served. And we elected you President? Oh, the shame. I think another parallel is that in some ways the Revolutionary War could have been avoided. It was an unnecessary war. Unbelievable. The war that made us a nation was unnecessary. But don't you dare question his patriotism!

Had the British Parliament been a little more sensitive to the colonial‘s really legitimate complaints and requests the war could have been avoided completely, and of course now we would have been a free country now as is Canada and India and Australia, having gotten our independence in a nonviolent way. In another 150 freaking years? No thanks.

I think in many ways the British were very misled in going to war against America and in trying to enforce their will on people who were quite different from them at the time. No, you idiot, they weren't quite different. Read the American speeches and pamphlets of the day. We very much identified ourselves as displaced Englishmen, and it wasn't until the years and events leading up to the revolution that we began to develop and recognize our own distinct identity.

Seriously. I have a great deal of respect for the work that Carter does with Habitat for Humanity. But when he starts shooting his mouth off like this, he makes himself look like an ass. Remind me again why we're taking foreign affairs advice from a man who got 50-some odd Americans kidnapped for 400 days?

What Kind of Man Are You?

Well, if you're this kind of man, you're also President of the United Staes.

Let's keep it that way.

(Thanks for the Memory to Blogs for Bush.)

Frodo Lives!

I just heard back from Dale Rogers, the Staff Sargeant who used to run the Beer for Soldiers site. Here's what he told me:

Greetings from Iraq. Although Beer for Soldiers is gone, I am creating a new website so my brothers and I can share with our families back home a little of our lives here in Iraq. The site will have photos and mushy stuff for the women and kids back home, i.e, moms, wives, and girlfriends and the sons and daughters. I have to build it still so I know if I build it they will come.

www.fromiraqwithlove.com

Check it out soon.

I will, Dale. And I encourage my readers to do the same.

Also, Dale confided in me that while he can no longer solicit BfS funds, he still plans on throwing a bash for his buddies when they get home.

Now while Dale can't solicit funds, there's nothing stopping us civilians from scraping together some funds and giving them to him of our own volition. Just saying is all.

More once I've had a little heart-to-heart with Dale.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Time may change me, but I can't trace time.
- David Bowie

I got an email today from my friend Shaun regarding my post on rain. In it he writes:

It's the Brian I remember. The Brian of our young years. I find it hard to ever find poetry in politics, even though many do. Thank heaven for rain.

It got me thinking. First of all, he's right. There isn't much poetry in politics. there is, however, a lot of passion, as I pointed out to him.

Shaun and I have been friends for years -- God, for at least a decade now. When we met, we were both young, and idealistic, and incredibly passionate about all of our beliefs, our pursuits, our aspirations, and in general, about everything we did. He was my best friend. Over the years, our friendship has remained, but has not maintained the same level of closeness. I still love Shaun like a brother, but I don't know him anywhere nearly as well as I once did. Time and distance and circumstances and events have taken their toll on our friendship, even as they have taken their toll on each of us in our own way.

I've never told shaun this, but for the longest time, i blamed him and his circumstances for the change in our friendship. I saw, as an observer, the changes in his demeanor, his attitudes, his personality. And I missed the Shaun I once knew. What I did not see, perhaps COULD not see for the longest time, were the changes in myself.

I suppose one reason that it was easier to notice his changes than my own was the fact that I had to live in my own skin on a daily basis, whereas I only got to see Shaun once every few months at the most, often with years intervening. Gradual changes can seem quite sudden if all you see is the before and after shots.

But eventually I came to recognize the changes in myself as well. And I must confess, some of them disturbed me or disappointed me in ways far worse than anything I observed in my friend. I can't remember when I last wrote poetry. I cry less bitterly, laugh less heartily than I used to. I don't read as often or as voraciously. I look less far off into the distance, and find myself staring more longingly at the past. I think about decisions I've made -- some good, some bad -- and think about the opportunities that I've gained, and the ones I've lost as a result. I think about thinga I'll never have a chance to do again, and others that I never could have done before. I have become all too familiar with regret, but also with wisdom. Perhaps these are the trades we make, the entrance fee into adulthood. Or maybe this is just the vaguely sentimental ramblings of someone who has become something he never expected, and nothing he intended.

When I was in junior high choir, we sang a song that was an arrangement of what has since been one of my favorite poems of all times. But while I've long enjoyed it, it wasn't until recent years that I truly appreciated it. So if you'll forgive any errors, I shall now try to recite it from memory:

The Road Not Taken

By Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
and sorry I could not travel both,
but be one traveller, long I stood,
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim,
because it was grassy and wanted wear,
but as for that the passing there
had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
in leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I save the first for another day,
yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubt if I shall ever get back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
somewhere ages and ages hence.
Two roads diverged in a woods, and I,
I took the one less travelled by,
and that has made all the difference.

Rain, Rain, Come Today

Yesterday it rained, and at one point it rained hard enough that even an Oregonian was compelled to call it "rain" (what most people call rain, we call a heavy mist). I'm much happier now -- I prefer it when the morning's cold and clouds actually stay around and put out, instead of burning off into that mid-fall schizophrenic heat I loathe so. I know it's pretty cliche to hear this coming from an Oregonian, but there's some truth in the stereotype -- I love rain. I love all kinds of rain. I love a summer rain with that smell coming up off of the dust when the first raindrops hit it. I love a fall rain when the cloud cover is intermittent and the sun low in the sky shines through so that it's bright and sunny but raining at the same time. I love a dead-of-winter rain when it's coming down in vertical sheets and the wind is howling and driving the rain right through your coat and you come in from it and peel off layers of wet fabric and sit by a fire or soak in the tub with a hot toddy or buttered rum or chocolate, and listen to the angry moans of the storm and smugly reflect on the fact that there are good walls and a roof between you and all of that weather. I love the way the rain showers everything squeaky clean and the way everything smells clean and healthy and the way that any flat surface glows and glistens at night from the reflection of the streetlights or the moonlight in the wetness that the rain deposits on streets and cars and sidewalks. And I love the sense of resolution that is felt after you've watched the sky darken and turn more and more brooding all day, they way the tension builds, giving the weather an almost emotional quality, until it erupts in a liquid tantrum that gets everything off of Mother Nature's chest. And I love the sweet calm that comes after the rain passes.

I can honestly say, God knew what He was doing when he had me born in Oregon.

Hazy, Hazy, Give Me Your answer Do....

Blogging AND training with a bad cold this week. The "Non-Drowsy" cold medecine... isn't. Looked forward to resting up yesterday, but nooooooo.... the Feared Redhead wants the second bedroom cleared out to convert into a nursery, so instead of curling up with a hot mug of tea and a good book, I spent the day sorting through boxes of stuff I forgot I even owned. Sheesh! It's still 4 months out.

The one bright side was I found my favorite Savonelli, so as soon as I can get it to the Briar Shoppe for some maintenance, I'll be a happy man.

The Football Gods Were Angry With Me

Not a good weekend to be a team I rooted for. sure, my Ducks won on Saturday, thus marking the first time this season they've won two in a row, and bringing their record to a dead even 3-3, but that still leaves them with only 2 losses leeway if they want to chalk up a school-record 11th straight winning season. And if they commit the kind of errors they did on Saturday against some of their future opponents, they are toast.

Yesterday, not so good. A run down of the teams I root for, from the closest I have to a favorite on down:

Detroit: Ouch. Green Bay cleaned their clocks. At least they're still over .500 at 3-2
Seattle: They played New England. 'Nuff said. Though I am proud of the way they hung tough.
San Diego: Didn't get to watch this one to the end, and I'm glad. Talk about snatching defeat rom the jaws of Victory.
Minnesota (Hey' I married one, it's a survival instinct. Plus, a former Duck plays for them): The one bright spot on the weekend.

What do CBS News and Iran's Mullahs Have in Common?

They Both Hate Bloggers!

Thanks for the Memory to Bohemian Conservative via Ace of Spades HQ:

Iran cracks down on blog protests

Six online journalists and webloggers have been arrested in Iran recently in a crackdown on dissent on the internet.

BC has a list of other countries where freedom of speech is under attack. Totalitarian and authoritarian governments require a monopoly of information to keep their people oppressed. One begins to wonder if that's why CBS is so disdainful of the competition.

A Blog is Born

My best friend Scott has just started blogging. He's also a good friend ov Vic over at Darth Apathy. Go check out his new blog, Vulture's Row. He's even tried his hand at ranting. Nicely done -- beginner's luck.

A Lesson from Lessons

My mom sent me the following metaphor via email and I thought it worth sharing:

A young woman was about to finish her first year of college. Like so many others her age she considered herself to be a very liberal Democrat
>and was for distribution of all wealth. She felt deeply ashamed that her father was a rather staunch Republican which she expressed openly.

One day she was challenging her father on his beliefs and his opposition to higher taxes on the rich & the addition of more government welfare programs. Based on the lectures that she had participated in and the occasional chat with a professor she felt that for years her
father had obviously harbored an evil, even selfish desire to keep what he thought should be his. The self professed objectivity proclaimed by her professors
had to be the truth and she indicated so to her father.

He stopped her and asked her point blank, how she was doing in school. She answered rather haughtily that she had a 4.0 GPA, and let him know that it was tough to maintain. That she studied all the time, never had time to go out and party like other people she knew. She didn't even have time for a boyfriend and didn't really
have many college friends because of spending all her time studying. That she was taking a more difficult curriculum.

Her father listened and then asked, "How is your good friend Mary doing?"

She replied, "Mary is barely getting by." She continued, "She barely has a 2.0 GPA," adding, "and all she takes are easy classes and she never studies." "But Mary is so very popular on campus, college for her is a blast, she goes to all the parties all the time and very often doesn't even show up for classes because she is too hung over."

Her father then asked his daughter, "Why don't you go to the Dean's office and ask him to deduct a 1.0 off your 4.0 GPA and give it to your friend who only has a 2.0." He continued, "That way you will both have a 3.0 GPA and certainly that would be a fair and equal distribution of GPA."

The daughter visibly shocked by her father's suggestion angrily fired back, "That wouldn't be fair! I worked really hard for mine, I did without and Mary has done little or nothing, she played while I worked real hard!"

The father slowly smiled, winked and said, "Welcome to the Republican Party!"

E-Specially Offensive Democratic Flyer

Thanks for the Memory to Derek Crane:

Apparently the office of the election campaign of Craig Fitzhugh (D-Tenn.), which also serves as the local campaign HQ for Kerry-Edwards, thought the following image expressed their opinions aptly, and chose to distribute it:



If you can't read it, the caption reads "Voting for Bush is like running in the Special Olympics -- Even if you win you are still retarded."

Very nice. This from the Party of PC Language. I'm sure they didn't intend to mock the special Olympics while simultaneously mocking the President -- of course, I only give them the benefit of the doubt because I don't think they were capable of thinking it all the way through. Either way, it's pretty sad. As one of my readers has said, "It's like the Limbo Dance!"

Right Wing Oppression: It's Real Because They Say So

Thanks for the Memory to Drudge via Ace of Spades HQ:

It's been a while since I've blogged on the nasty tactics of the Left to intimidate conservative voters. So let's talk today about the nasty tactics of the Right to intimidate liberal voters.

Haven't heard of it happening? You will -- even if it doesn't:

XXXXX DRUDGE REPORT XXXXX THU OCT 14, 2004 10:58:04 ET XXXXX

DNC ELECTION MANUAL: CHARGE VOTER INTIMIDATION, EVEN IF NONE EXISTS

**World Exclusive**

The Kerry/Edwards campaign and the Democratic National Committee are advising election operatives to declare voter intimidation -- even if none exists, the DRUDGE REPORT can reveal.

A 66-page mobilization plan to be issued by the Kerry/Edwards campaign and the Democratic National Committee states: "If no signs of intimidation techniques have emerged yet, launch a 'pre-emptive strike.'"

The provocative Dem battle plan is to be distributed in dozens of states, the DRUDGE REPORT has learned.

One top DNC official confirmed the manual's authenticity, but claimed the notion of crying wolf on any voter intimidation is "absurd."

"We all know the Republicans are going to try to steal the election by scaring people and confusing people," the top DNC source explained.

Developing...

Infuriating. But not too surprising. I've said all along that the things those on the Left scream loudest about are usually the things of which they're guilty themselves. I'm curious to see where this leads, but won't get my hopes up.

Why This Time of Year Is My Least Favorite Weather Season

7 AM: Heading to work, temp is in the low 50's, maybe the 40's, I've got my jacket on.
5 PM: It will be in the high 60's or 70's, and I'll be sweating.

Hot or Cold, Mother Nature. Make up your mind.