January 07, 2005

Okay.

I'm halfway out of the funk. I've even managed to do a constructive thing or two. So we'll be back to normal around here in no time—and then won't you be sorry? (Long posts that go nowhere, naval-gazing essays, silly observations . . . it'll be awful.)

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Where Does He FIND This Stuff?

Jeff of Beautiful Atrocities has some answers from the Muslim Dear Abbey. Like, who knew it wasn't okay to read while on the toilet? Not me.

UPDATE: Iowahawk makes a good thing better. Read this one after you drop by Jeff's place.

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January 06, 2005

Also,

not eating will save me scads of money. After all, that's our second-largest monthly outlay. I'm be thin and rich. Yay!

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Over at The Brutality of Reason

Ironcross discusses the military's super-secret plan for Islamic genocide. Well, sooner or later the cat was bound to come out of the bag, huh?

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You Go, Big Guy

The Spear Shaker has a summary of Schwarzennegger's aggressive reform plan for Cauli-fornia.

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January 05, 2005

Well, There's That

I forwarded a post by another blogger—one I consider particularly clever—to a friend, who sent a missive back to the effect that it was quite an interesting little entry, but "why don't you all go out and get jobs?"

My plan: wait until he isn't looking, and spit in his drink sometime when he least expects it.

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Silver Linings

Just one more thing about my depression: right now, I'm about five pounds north of being able to fit into my hip-huggers.* If this thing continues for a few more days, I'll be able to wear 'em without any problem at all.


*Or, "jeans with a slight low-rise quality," to you young whippersnappers who are still experiencing all fashion trends the first time around. (I'm up to the second wave on everything.)

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The Beautiful Thing

. . . about being depressed/unhappy at this time of month is I'm absolutely sure it isn't hormones. After all, this is supposed to be the happy/horny era, and all I want to do is hide under the bed and weep.

This timing business is more important than you might imagine. After all, if I might be PMS-ing (and it's never that clear these days, as perimenopause sets in), I'm never certain whether I can trust my perceptions or not.

It's lovely to know that I can at least think clearly without physiological interference. Provided, of course, that I remember to eat a little, and that I manage to sleep.

It's the mind-body problem. Or, if you like, something akin to the observations of Raymond Chandler and Joan Didion about what happens to residents of Los Angeles during a Santa Ana wind. Except that it's all inside one human being, and the weather guy doesn't ever let you know.

Neither, these days, does the calendar.

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Cranky Copy Editor Stuff

Please bear in mind that up is not a verb; I don't care what worthless rag you're composing headlines or captions for.

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Deadlines Beckon

. . . so it'll be light posting today. In the meantime, check out all the bitchin' sites on my blogroll (most of it's on the left sidebar, but the Watcher's Council members are listed on the right sidebar).

And, above all, be good.

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On the Dangers of Misreporting; How We Encourage Terrorism

Hindrocket has an excellent digest of a Melanie Phillips speech over at Power Line. Phillips is a British writer who points out that the West's responses to terrorism play into the hands of those who would harm us.

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January 04, 2005

Jeff in Colorado

. . . is fighting blogger burnout at Protein Wisdom.

Possible cures:

1) People might stop by more, boosting his traffic and lifting his spirits;

2) Someone "important" could link him;

3) Scrappleface could stop blogging, and send his traffic to Jeff;

4) A company or five might buy a handful of blogads, yielding some actual income for this hobby/disease of blogging;

5) Some of his fans might send him their underwear (perhaps bras rather than panties, so as not to upset Mrs. Wisdom);

6) He might pace himself, and only write a couple of entries a day, filling the extra time with some other hobby/disease/vice/addiction;

7) Jeff could watch Play Misty for Me, and ponder the notion that every fan is a potential stalker. This might lead him to watch his step and drop the threats of quitting.

Just tryin' to be helpful.

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50,000 Hits

This week. Probably within about 48 hours.

Not that, you know, I keep track.

I mean, this is art for art's sake; why on earth would I need an audience?

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More on Tsunami Aid: This Is Not a Competition

Chuck Simmons is keeping a running tally on private American tsunami aid on the left sidebar of his main blog page. Check back with him when you're worried that we're "not doing enough," but keep in mind:

1) This is not a contest among nations; we're all just doing what we can;

2) Some people will always criticize whatever the U.S. does, and we just need to deal with that rather than get all hot and bothered;

3) We aren't likely to get "the highest ranking" on a per-capita basis (I believe that honor goes to the Dutch), and that's okay. The U.S. and the Australians are taking the lead and doing tremendous good over there right now, and we should be happy about that.

This class isn't graded on a curve, okay?

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The Diplomad

. . . has a few updates. Looks like the EUs will mostly follow the UN model (that is, hold meetings) and the Dutch will likely throw their lot in with the group led by the Aussies/Yanks.

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I'm Having a Mulder Moment

I really want to believe.

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Now That I'm Over the Slump

I should point out that, as a mid-level blogger, I'm the perfect place to advertise if you're just starting out (or have a low-key blog you'd like to publicize more effectively).

I get a decent amount of traffic, which isn't just my core readership but a resonable number of heavy hitters who stop by on at least a weekly basis. (No, that doesn't include Glenn Reynolds, but you'd be surprised how well a person can do without getting any Instalanches whatsoever.)

I'm back up to 500+ hits a day, now that the post-election and holiday slumps are over with. I'm still small enough, however, for ads to be really cheap ($10-$20/month, depending on my stats at the exact moment you buy the ad).

Keep in mind that if you do want to run an ad, an image, photo, or icon (some kind of artwork, no matter how simple) will likely make it more effective. So try to have that ready when you get started. And I've been told that it's easier to find me in the Blogads system by going through my existing adstrips, rather than trying to find me on their site. (Go to the right-hand sidebar, and find "I've wanted to sell out all my life," or [further down] "Advertise here.")

We now return you to your regularly scheduled less-overt—understated—ad-whoring and link-whoring. Which means I can take off these fishnets and high heels, now, and get back into my corduroys. Yay!

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You Can Blow Out a Candle . . .

"But you can't blow out a fire."

The governor of Baghdad was just assassinated. In that light, Smash's observation about Bin Laden's increasing desperation is particularly important to bear in mind.

Democracy is coming to the Middle East, and neither the Baathists nor the Islamists can stop it.

Both Bin Laden and Zarqawi are living on borrowed time.

That said, I'm sick to death by what we've seen and what we will see this month. But there's no way around—only through.

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January 03, 2005

The Diplomad

. . . continues to report on the efforts of the Australians/Americans, and the tragic, funny floundering of the U.N.:

In this part of the tsunami-wrecked Far Abroad, the UN is still nowhere to be seen where it counts, i.e., feeding and helping victims. The relief effort continues to be a US-Australia effort, with Singapore now in and coordinating closely with the US and Australia. Other countries are also signing up to be part of the US-Australia effort. Nobody wants to be "coordinated" by the UN. The local UN reps are getting desperate. They're calling for yet another meeting this afternoon; they've flown in more UN big shots to lecture us all on "coordination" and the need to work together, i.e., let the UN take credit. With Kofi about to arrive for a big conference, the UNocrats are scrambling to show something, anything as a UN accomplishment. Don't be surprised if they claim that the USS Abraham Lincoln is under UN control and that President Lincoln was a strong supporter of the UN.

And it gets better/worse:

UPDATE: WFP (World Food Program) has "arrived" in the capital with an "assessment and coordination team." . . . The team has spent the day and will likely spend a few more setting up their "coordination and opcenter" at a local five-star hotel. And their number one concern, even before phones, fax and copy machines? Arranging for the hotel to provide 24hr catering service. USAID folks already are cracking jokes about "The UN Sheraton." Meanwhile, our military and civilians, working with the super Aussies, continue to keep the C-130 air bridge of supplies flowing and the choppers flying, and keep on saving lives -- and without 24hr catering services from any five-star hotel . . . . The contrast grows more stark every minute.

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Work and the Holidays

Mark Steyn ran an interesting little column about the difference between European sensibilities and those here in the U.S. with respect to work. He points out that the European phrase "over Christmas" has come to mean between Christmas and sometime in mid-January, and that the entire affair takes nearly three weeks. He points out that for many here in the States, the next working day is a real working day, even if it's the 26th of December. I might argue with that, in that a lot of offices shut down or perform only essential functions between Christmas and New Year's, but there is an underlying principle that is correct.

I was just at the annual party of a Pasadena friend who calls his January function "Back to Reality," meaning that his soiree is the official dividing line between "the holidays" and "the real world." This always occurs on the first Sunday after New Year's Day, which means that it happened today, though the New Year's Day floats were still on display in Pasadena, which didn't help people in getting to his house. Many assumed that "Back to Reality" would take place the following week, but this friend is an engineer: January 2nd it was. My point being, there might be a little wiggle room on either side, but for most Americans with office jobs, the absolute maximum time off in the winter is probably two weeks, and for many it's closer to two days. For some, it's one day, Christmas itself.

My husband tells me that the 6th is a good, traditional last moment for taking down the Christmas decorations in the Catholic world, though I was always told the day after New Year's. I'll accept the later time as the real deadline, because that's my way. Again: there's a matter of interpretation, but there are eventually Real Limits. (Except for me: I got sucked into a 70-hour/week job one January and didn't box up my Christmas ornaments that year until late June. I've sewn a scarlet "Noel" onto my clothing, though, so people will know my shame.)

But the fundamental difference between the European approach and that of Americans is in our conviction that at some point "the piper must be paid." Even the entertainment industry, which on a superficial level resembles the European aristocracy—doing next to nothing between Thanksgiving and the second in January—takes that time after months of working schedules that would kill any number of Europeans (and I say that with love). Those whom many regard as the American answer to aristocrats, actors and actresses, work 12-hour days when they have a project, and sometimes spend the weeks or months in between projects in a state of nervous collapse. It just ain't the same as the European attitude that says we're entitled to six weeks' vacation every year, and someone ought to pay for it.

The French and Germans, who average 40 days vacation a year, assume the reason Americans don't take holidays is because they don't get them. In fact, it's very hard persuading Americans to take the ones they do get. In rural states, most federal holidays -- Presidents Day, Martin Luther King Day, etc. -- go unobserved except by banks and government agencies. It was all I could do to persuade my assistant not to come in on Christmas Day -- ''just for a couple of hours in the morning in case there's anything urgent,'' she says pleadingly.

''There won't be anything urgent,'' I scoff.

''What about all that European research you wanted me to chase up?''

''Those deadbeats won't be back in the office till the week before Valentine's Day.'' Since lunchtime on Dec. 23, every business in Europe has been on an answering machine.

So there's your difference right there: we have a drive here, a desire to get things done right. To put in the time to make it so. And it makes our economy stronger than those in Europe, which are roughly comparable to our more disadvantaged states (think Arkansas, Mississippi—nothing against these places, but not the model of economic development London and Paris should be emulating).

Steyn again:

In 1999, the average ''working'' German worked 1,536 hours a year, the average American 1,976. In the United States, 49 percent of the population is in employment, in France 39 percent. From my strictly anecdotal observation of German acquaintances, the ideal career track seems to be to finish school around 34 and take early retirement at 42. By 2050, the pimply young lad in lederhosen serving you at the charming beer garden will be singlehandedly supporting entire old folks' homes. If tax rates were to be hiked commensurate to the decline in tax base and increase in welfare obligations, there would be no incentive at all to enter the (official) job market. Better to stay at school till 38 and retire at 39. That's why America's richer, and why, though the Europeans preen about their kinder, gentler society, customers of Amazon.com have pledged more money to disaster relief in the Indian Ocean than the French government.

It's horrifying because it's true. Finally, Deacon's quote at Power Line that turned me on to Steyn's column in the first place:

Europe has a psychological investment in longer holidays: The fact that they spell national suicide is less important than that they distinguish Europe from the less enlightened Americans. Many aspects of European life are, indeed, very pleasant: jobs for life, three-week Yuletides, etc. But they're what the environmental crowd would call ''unsustainable development.'' Despite the best efforts of lethargic Scotsmen, it can't be Christmas all year round.

Nor would I really want it to be. Europe has a problem. A big problem. They are on an economic bender that will eventually produce one hell of a hangover.

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