Jim Oberg reminds me that, had he lived, Yuri Gagarin would have been seventy years old today. Here’s a piece that Jim wrote about him, and his significance, a few years ago.
All posts by Rand Simberg
“She Hungered For My Man-Crevasse…”
Iowahawk (who else?) says that Naomi Wolf has a sexual harassment past of her own.
Don’t read while drinking, unless you have a keyboard protector, and you’ll never look at plumbers the same way again.
“She Hungered For My Man-Crevasse…”
Iowahawk (who else?) says that Naomi Wolf has a sexual harassment past of her own.
Don’t read while drinking, unless you have a keyboard protector, and you’ll never look at plumbers the same way again.
“She Hungered For My Man-Crevasse…”
Iowahawk (who else?) says that Naomi Wolf has a sexual harassment past of her own.
Don’t read while drinking, unless you have a keyboard protector, and you’ll never look at plumbers the same way again.
More Overkill
This was depressing. When I decided to do a little research on the venue of Friday night’s festivities, I discovered this little gem (actually, lump of coal):
Q: Is there an outside “Observation Deck”?
A: Actually, there is. But, unfortunately it has been closed to the public since September 2001 by airport officials for security reasons.
Motes And Beams
Lots of people are pointing out this story about how great it was in Gitmo for at least some of the Afghan POWs.
Actually, from the way they describe their experience, despite all the whining from Human Rights Watch, it sounds like their situation was better than that of most Cubans. And they got to leave…
No Justice, No Peace
I place the blame firmly on the local police department, who should have anticipated, and prepared for, the feelings on the street in the wake of the verdict.
…corrections officials have tried to dispel the myth that white collar prisons are cushy.
“The sheets are 130 thread count un-ironed cotton, and the lack of windows results in almost no natural light whatsoever,” said Donna Buhmper a guard at Camp Elgin in Walton Beach, Florida. “For Ms. Stewart, this could be the closest thing to hell she ever sees- until she dies, of course, and goes there for real.”
Behold, And Tremble
Protein Wisdom is back after all these years, with (like your humble blog here) a new URL. Something must be going around.
Today, Mr. (Dr.?) Goldstein seems to be indulging in a little schadenfreude over Mr. Rall’s well-deserved travails.
Where Was Jane Galt?
So, we all got into our skycars last night and blasted over to the Encounter Restaurant at LAX, Jetsons style, to meet and imbibe alcohol and comestibles with the inimitable Jane Galt and estimable companion (whose name, forgive me, has escaped my feeble mind) during their several-hour layover from Mexico back to the drudgery of her job (which she claims to love) in New York.
As can be seen below, I had a camera with me, but decided to not be obnoxious and take pics of everyone there. I’ve got a rare and (in my humble opinion, difficult to create) unflattering photo of Jane, that I won’t post (I’m saving it for extortion purposes, after the point at which she becomes not only famous, but rich).
I sat across the table from the charming and lovely Asparagirl. I captured a picture of her embracing an Evil Democrat (TM). I’ve no desire to blackmail her (it would be pointless–she just started a job with Mouseland–Eisner, even in his present semi-submissive state, isn’t going to make her rich any time soon).
I’m going to post the picture, as a punishment and perpetual reminder, sort of like the Scarlet Letter, to modify her future behavior, and make an example of her for any others who may desire to stray from the true path of non-Democratism (which, I hasten to add, is not the same as being a Republican).
It’s probably a fruitless endeavor, though. Given that it’s her husband (who’s surprisingly charming himself), I suspect that she’ll remain incorrigible, and persist in such shameless activities.
The two newlyweds apparently have a new joint blog, called the Protocols of the Yuppies of Zion. I guess I’m behind the times, because I see that all the cool blogs have already blogrolled it.
Others in attendance that I can recall (forgive me again, do I have to remind you that there was alcohol involved?) were Pejman, who has his own report, the lovely Emily Jones (the blogger formerly known as Hawkgirl), and several others who may remind me if they see this.
A good time was had by all. If anyone didn’t have a good time, they didn’t deserve to. That’s my story, and I’m sticking with it.
[Update on Sunday night]
In looking at the pic, I realize that I didn’t realize how spiffed up for the occasion the happy couple were. They’re not just dressed for the twenty-first century, with George and Elroy Jetson. As anyone can see, Scott actually garbed himself for the twenty-fourth. He looks ready to step onto the bridge of whatever version of the Enterprise is extant at the time.
“Scotty, the airplanes continue to come in. Can you hold the restaurant steady?”
“I canna’ hold her, Captain. I need more power.”
And won’t Brooke make a positively fetching ensign? And not just one of those unnamed expendable ones that goes off on an away team…
Win Some, Lose Some
I haven’t found anything on line about it yet, but I heard on the television today that in analyzing the Yucatan crater, they’ve determined that the impact occurred hundreds of thousands of years before the dino extinction, so the original Alverez theory may not be true.
On the other hand, much closer to home, both in distance and time, a paper presented at last week’s planetary defense conference speculates that a comet may have caused the Chicago Fire.
Well, that would let Mrs. O’Leary’s cow off the hook. Bossy may be exonerated after all these decades.
Either way, it would still be prudent to keep looking for them and to quickly develop the technological capability needed to deal with any that appear to have our number.