…there’s often a Lileks.
George Will unaccountably goes to war against blue jeans. James Lileks makes short work of him.
…there’s often a Lileks.
George Will unaccountably goes to war against blue jeans. James Lileks makes short work of him.
While I’m sure that some of my more deranged readers fantasize that I watch it over and over, I’ve actually never seen the movie “Red Dawn.” But for those who have, here’s a description of the upcoming remake.
Frank J. says that we should pity the pirates, and ask ourselves why they plunder us:
…for a change, let’s really look at pirates. You may just see how they are the victims in all of this. That may seem ridiculous to you. After all, aren’t they the ones taking hostages? But ransoming hostages is just how they make their living. Do you get angry at an IRS agent or a lawyer for just doing his job? The issue is why pirates find pillaging and plundering their only options.
It’s not going very far out on a limb to say that pirates suffer from low self-esteem. They often have inferior prosthetics, such as hooks and peg legs, and that alone makes them feel disconnected from “normal” people. Then there is the scurvy and the inevitable depression that comes with it. Throw in the addiction to rum, and it’s obvious to anyone that we have individuals in severe need of help. Just look at a pirate’s choice of a pet: the parrot. It’s an aloof animal that does nothing but repeat the pirate’s own words in a mocking tone. If that were not enough of a cry for help, there is also their habit of burying treasure. It’s like they don’t even feel they are worthy of the fruits of their plundering and murder and thus deny it for themselves.
We have to help them. Do it for the children. As one commenter notes, pirates are people, too.
Former Detroit Tiger Mark Fydrich has died in a freak accident. I remember living in Michigan and watching him pitch, those many years ago.
Again. Here’s an amusing Retweet Theatre on the subject. More extensive coverage of the expedition can be found here and here.
If Homer’s Odyssey had been Twittered.
Thoughts from the glamour maven.
I first met Terry Savage almost thirty years ago when I first drove out to California, looking for jobs in the aerospace industry as I was on the verge of graduating from Michigan. He was one of the founders of OASIS (Organization for the Advancement of Space Industrialization and Settlement), the Los Angeles chapter of the L-5 Society (now National Space Society), and offered me a place to crash while in Redondo Beach. I’ve kept up with him, on and off, ever since.
He’s finally decided to dip his toe into the blogosphere, and started a new blog associated with his first (but hopefully not last) SF novel. Go check it out.
…Detroit. It’s the other other white meat.
For grafs like this:
I bought some taco shells before leaving; the clerk, an immense creature who resembled a six-foot soft-serve ice cream treat, asked howr you. I said “damp.” She gave me a look of such unbelievably bovine incomprehension I almost apologized for not saying “fine.” It was almost a warning: don’t get fancy. We don’t take to fancy here. That’s one of the reasons I don’t go to that grocery store anymore. They hired the clerks from the cast party of a Fellini movie and ran them through a Hee-Haw filter, then eliminated the ones who were so antisocial they had fewer than three tattoos of their children’s names on their arms.
I can’t wait to see the novel.