Divine intervention, of course. And a clear indication that the Lord will provide.

I'm glad we got away from those early Old Testament practices, in which I would have had to destroy a bottle of good gin on an altar in the hopes that the Lord would be pleased enough to send me more of the same. New Testament: I drink it, thank God, and ask for more, please.

A more efficient system, for sure: better all around.

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Or, three jobs, if you count the fact that I have two separate accounts at one establishment, and they are "sharing" me right now. Naturally, I avoid that situation like the plague, but Dept B is having an emergency, and needs me. So Dept. A (which had dibs for the day) is being a good sport about it. (Reminder to self: acquire some diplomatic balm, since I may well need it before the week is up. Do they sell that stuff at Office Depot?)

And now I need to wind down, since they'd like me in the office at a normal time tomorrow. The faster I lose consciousness, the better. Would someone come over here and bang me on the head, please? Thank you.

In the meantime, my head is filled with brilliant insights into the human conditions that may never get written down—much less read by anyone. So I shall simply assure you that it's Really Good Stuff.

Ogden Nash:
"Oh, Duty, Duty—why hast thou not the visage
Of a Sweetie, or a cutie?"

Why not, indeed?

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No one ever stops blogging, unless they go on methadone.

Just ask Rachel Lucas.

Yeah, I was depressed last night, and earlier today. Utterly, utterly depressed. And I didn't want to admit that, so I sort of vamped.

But now I've cleared the air with the other individual involved in my emotional tailspin, and I think I'll go to bed early.

Nope; I didn't drive up to Shell Beach today, either: that got put off a few weeks, due to 1) the fact that I had a slight sore throat, which is a no-no when you're going to visit a 95-year-old woman, and 2) my suspicion that I'll be able to afford the gasoline a bit better at that point as well.

So all is well, here, but I'm taking one more night off from internet society.

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Apparently, he's "ignorant" when it comes to immigration.

Well, okay.

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We're all about the tough love at this blog. Other bloggers have the attitude that "if you build it, they will come."

But not me. I'm more of the mindset that if my traffic falters, I might well stop providing content, which would of course lead to mass suicide among my readership.

It would be a shame if that were to happen.

I'm driving the Cruiser up to Shell Beach late this afternoon to see my father, my uncle and aunt, and my grandmother.

So I'll be checking my SiteMeter stats on late today (Sunday) or early on Monday.

If I like what I see, I'll post some more. If not, well . . .

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They discuss taxes, Fred's political/philosophical development, the stakes involved in when/how we leave Iraq, military spending, abortion and the Supremes—and why a guy with a happy home life and a new family would want to run the horrific gauntlet of a Presidential primary/campaign.

Best quotes:

"Having one more good man in the primaries isn't going to hurt."

And: "I've told John [McCain] that we were friends before this, and we'll be friends after it's over—unless he beats me." (Note to my other proofreader friends: it was a joke.)

One of the most interesting moments in the video was when Robinson suggested, "so, you have a gut feeling that you're the most electable, but you'll let the voters decide that." Thompson agreed, remarking that he simply didn't think this was the moment for someone from "the other side of the aisle" to take the reins.

I was impressed by his assertion that it was time for average Americans to make some sacrifices in order to win the War on Terror—and to face our other upcoming security challenges. To me, this suggests that he may plan on actually communicating with the country—keeping the American people in the loop. I think the country is ready for that. Ready for some communicating, Great or otherwise. [/obligatory Reagan reference; how tiresome to make it—and yet, this issue of communication/PR has been a non-trivial deficiency in the Bush '43 administration]

So an announcement will be formality at this point. Fred's in. And, yes, James: as a matter of fact, I am excited about it.

Via Insty.

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She's just the best; apparently there's a new biography out about her rather compelling life. Can't wait to read it!

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I dunno, Jane/Megan.

I believe in almost all of it: I believe that most of us are programmed to eat, and being surrounded by plentiful food—some of it quite calorie-dense—has made us fatter.

I believe that for a lot of people carbs are the drug of choice.

I believe that some people like to act out around food.

I believe that some people gain weight so they can "check out" of the romance game.

I believe that some people have so many fat cells that for them a "normal" weight requires the sensation of starving.

I believe that for some people food is the prude's alternative to sex.

I believe that some people have medical conditions that make them look fat, and we don't know by looking at them which ones are in that predicament.

I believe that some of the fattest people I know are some of the brightest.

I believe that I'd prefer that my vices be slightly private, and I'd rather not carry them on my belly, if I can avoid it.

I believe that people like me (most dudes and some chicks) who gain weight on their tummies run more risks when they gain weight than the hips-and-thighs people.

So I think—all things being equal—I'd rather not get fat. But there are worse things, and there is no way that one can tell what caused the appearance of fatness. I like to give any individual the benefit of a doubt.

But it's truly a fascinating discussion. Personally, I can't imagine eating a bunch of ice cream in one sitting. But I could probably eat two chocolate croissants in a sitting—and do that twice a day. So I could fall over that precipice in a heartbeat, if I lived in a French bakery or something.

So, no "set weight" theory for me: that's the one thing I don't believe. But individual situations vary wildly—as with everything. And people who are hungry and angry can generally put a lot away, if they put their minds to it.

Via Glenn.

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"You're being careful with it, aren't you, Honey? That stuff is speed."

"Just the tiny doses you suggested: much less than you take. Really, a very marginal amount, and I'll get a shrink to sign off on it in July when my insurance kicks in. I'm not snorting it or anything."

"It's funny, because you're such a classic case of ADD."

"Say what?"

"Even as a child."

"Mom, I specifically asked you a year ago whether you thought I'd had ADD as a kid, and you told me I didn't fit the profile, but my brother did."

"Oh, yes. Well, apparently there are two types of ADD personalities. My psychiatrist explained it to me: you were the other type: dreamy, seemingly out of it. You know."

"Okay. I guess I do know. Thanks for the drugz. Looks like the guys in the family are sticking with Prozac, so far."

"So far. Though I really think your brother should try Ritalin."

Parents. Can't live with 'em, and can't ship 'em off to Mars. Can't get 'em away from the "better living through chemistry" idea.

My mom raised me not to even take an aspirin when I had a headache: there was tremendous emphasis on the virtue of suffering and whatnot. We got extra moral points for going to school when we were sick. So much for that Anglo-Saxon stoicism.

I've decided there's little virtue in suffering, and even less in being an insufferable bitch. Still, The Mom could have said something: most people in Debtor's Anonymous do have some form of ADD—it makes us allergic to paperwork, you know.

This autumn my mother turns the age at which her own mother died. I anticipate that my mom will be around into her nineties, though, as long as she maintains a good attitude and keeps her blood pressure down. (Yes, her internist signed off on the Ritalin: do you think we're idiots?)

And my grandmother could well reach 100. That's the new 30, isn't it?

I plan to hang out as long as I have internet access, or at least my books and the ability to write; after that's gone, I'll ask the Lord to take me.

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Sam Zaramba, the Director General of Health Services for the Republic of Uganda, explains why the West must support effective anti-malarial programs in his country, and in all of Africa:

Although Uganda's National Environmental Management Authority has approved DDT for malaria control, Western environmentalists continue to undermine our efforts and discourage G-8 governments from supporting us. The EU has acknowledged our right to use DDT, but some consumer and agricultural groups repeat myths and lies about the chemical. They should instead help us use it strictly to control malaria.

Environmental leaders must join the 21st century, acknowledge the mistakes [Rachel] Carson made, and balance the hypothetical risks of DDT with the real and devastating consequences of malaria. Uganda has demonstrated that, with the proper support, we can conduct model indoor spraying programs and ensure that money is spent wisely, chemicals are handled properly, our program responds promptly to changing conditions, and malaria is brought under control.

Africa is determined to rise above the contemporary colonialism that keeps us impoverished. We expect strong leadership in G-8 countries to stop paying lip service to African self-determination and start supporting solutions that are already working.

Via Insty.

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. . . "I'll be sex-offensive to you."

Is there anything better than early Blondie? I mean, other than premium gin?

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. . . until I turn thirty-fifteen (the person from whom I stole this numbering system may drop by and claim credit, if she wishes).

I do, of course, have an Amazon wish list, as every good subscriber-supported chick must. (If you do decide to check that out, please adjust the list to display my desired presents in order of priority. It seems to want to default to a date-based "stack system," which is not helpful to any of us.)

Money always works, of course (see my PayPal button on the left sidebar): that helps me to go to blogging conferences, market my proofreading/writing, and fill in a few business wardrobe gaps before the Big Assignment this September/October. Or, you know: I might buy gin and get a birthday tattoo. Those aren't really business expenses, but they are fun.

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Ace points out that there's plenty of overlap between what straight men like and what lesbians find attractive. No surprise there.

When I was in high school my best friend was a lesbian. After she came out in an alternative publication (althernative, that is, to the Santa Monica High newspaper), one male jock went up to her—someone she'd previously dismissed as an airhead—and suggested they "go out clitting sometime."

After that, of course, she knew he was an enlightened airhead.

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Senator Byrd's Grand Kleagle hood finally got in a good line in a discussion with Jeff Goldstein on the anniversary of the State of Virginia v. Loving Supreme Court decision, which legalized interracial marriage:

me: “ . . . . The decision was hailed by certain overly-optimistic civil rights advocates of the time as a way toward physical integration of the races—the idea being that the commingling of ‘bloods’ would make the idea of racial distinctions hopelessly antiquated, and that as a result, social and policy considerations determined on the basis of race would eventually peter out of their own irrelevance . . ."

hood:

me:“—that is, until the academic left began its campaign to save the distinctions by way of the feel-good ‘celebrating the differences’ imperative. Which, as a part of an identity politics paradigm made manifest in the social and political philosophy of multiculturalism, has done its best to keep alive the separate but equal spirit of Jim Crow—dividing the country up into competing and often hostile identity blocs whose self-segregating practices, born of a move away from assimilation and nationalism, do very little to honor the memory of [the] Loving [decision]."

hood:

me: “In fact, if anything, such identity politics as are now practiced and exulted as ‘enlightened’ by many on the left—and by the progressive wing of the Democratic party—are really nothing more than the culturally sanctioned stoking of racial grievances. It has, in effect, saved segregation by renaming it and taking it away from the racist state, where the Constitution could not allow it to survive—except in instances where a benevolent government has granted itself the right to dole out permission for discriminatory practices under the ‘ameliorative’ guise of race-based affirmative action.”

hood:

me: “So I guess you’ve got that going for you . . . ”

hood: “Yeah, we’re pretty proud of that one, I must admit. And the best part? We’ve trained a whole new generation of liberals to actually defend the practices."

me:

hood: “—which, I bet your people didnÂ’t see that one coming while they were marching alongside the darkies and singing ‘we will overcome,Â’ did they, Jewboy?"

Well. I'll bet they didn't. Nor did my parents and my three non-racist grandparents, for that matter.

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Insty links the Hot Air clip of Dennis Miller having his way with Harry Reid. Back in the 1990s my husband—who used to do stand-up a couple of decades ago—noted that Miller was a great comedian whose biggest flaw/virtue was a habit of being "too hip for the room." He admires Miller's propensity to just keep on firing. The guy doesn't even stop to reload, or to take a breath. I like it, too: either you got the joke, or you didn't. Dennis ain't waiting around for you.

Glenn points out that Reid's numbers are low—like, Bush-low:

The public seems to regard the entire government, regardless of party, unfavorably. Which suggests that people have been paying attention.

Yup.

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"Which CD, Dear?"

"The one your sister burned for us for Christmas."

"You have it."

"You let me have it? You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"But I want to listen to it."

"So maybe you should find it."

"But why didn't you hang on to it?"

"Because I didn't care if it got lost for a while."

Now that's patriarchy.

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Being a closet liberal, I'm faced with the temptation so see gray areas. To say, "maybe, if the sandal completely covers the junction between the nylons and the bare toes."

But what's next?—advocating the custom among Japanese tourists of wearing knee-high nylons with shorts?

Look: stockings are one thing, and are fine between consenting adults. But panty hose of any type are not sexy. They are meant for one purpose, and one purpose only: to attenuate one's lack of tan/unevenness of skin tone.

If the environment you are going into is so casual that you can wave your bare toes around, you have no business wearing panty hose of any sort.

Or, if the environment requires panty hose, you shouldn't be showing off your pedicure—no matter how cute it is.

Get a spray-on tan, or buy some leg makeup, or suck it up and wear linen slacks. But come on, now, Girls: let's not bring about the utter collapse of civilization, just because it's summer.

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Most gins fall roughly into two categories: the full-flavored Dutch styles, and the "clean" (some say bland) English gins exemplified by Beefeater and Tanqueray (though there are certainly some more refined gins of this type).

Hendrick's, made in Scotland, is part of what I call the "third way" in gin: it doesn't have the heaviness of Dutch gins, some of which are reminiscent of good tequilas (um, if tequila were made with juniper—well, never mind about that). But it has a good deal more flavor than most of the "London Drys," and it's sipping gin, for sure: to add vermouth to Hendrick's would be a crime.

Hendrick's is a recent invention, but its marketing people love to play off the fact that their still—by the Scottish seaside—was fashioned during the Victorian era; Nineteenth-Century images adorn all its labels and bottles. Even the airplane-sized Hendrick's comes in a teensy cardboard tube like the one its daddy is shipped in. (The 50-ML size sports a twist-off cap, rather than the cork on the full-sized bottle. From a marketing perspective, it's interesting that Sarticious appears to serve the same quirky-but-light market niche, and also sports a cork on its full-size vessel. Sarticious is more classically citrusy, but is also a balanced "third way" gin—not quite Dutch, and not quite English in its lineage.)

Most of these alterna-gins are citrusy, but Hendrick's contains—aside from the usual juniper/"secret sauce" botanical combo—cucumber extract and essence of rose. Despite being very flavorful, the final result is still extremely light, and the flavor combination is crazy and brilliant. In fact, Hendrick's works fine in a gin-and-tonic, as with most of these third-way concoctions, because the flavors don't clash with the quinine in the tonic. But I've only done it once, because the distinctive flavor gets buried in tonic water, and that's a crime.

By definition, third-way gins work in most cocktails—though not martinis, as a general rule—and yet I can't get myself to drink them that way. I pour them over ice, wait a moment, and then fish the ice out of the glass.

They are that good.

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1 Funny thing is, gin was originally cheap booze for the masses. "Drunk for a penny Dead drunk for two pence Clean straw for free." I recall a drawing by the name "Gin Lane" ... (google image search) -Bob

Posted by: Bob at June 11, 2007 11:23 AM (CP6tB)

2 There was a time when government manipulation of the market in England made gin much, much cheaper than beer for the equivalent "high." Gin has a sort of dual lineage: to this day, it appeals to either highbrow or VERY lowbrow tastes. I like to think I'm the latter . . .

Posted by: Attila Girl at June 11, 2007 11:45 AM (VgDLl)

3 Without gin, much of Europe would not have replaced their existing population. Like today. There must be a poem or ode mentioning "key" and "gates" somewhere. Vodka helped too, of course.

Posted by: Darrell at June 11, 2007 01:32 PM (JbEBk)

4 Ah, but that's in Eastern Europe.

Posted by: Attila Girl at June 11, 2007 03:59 PM (VgDLl)

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. . . is narrowing, though the U.S.-China balance is still out of whack. This weak dollar thing is very helpful overall, though of course one feels sorry for the college kids who are doing their summer-in-Europe this year (mine was during the 1980s, so our dollars bought oodles of extras).

The U.S. trade deficit narrowed more than forecast in April as a weaker dollar pushed exports to a record and demand for imports waned.

The deficit fell 6.2 percent, the most in six months, to $58.5 billion, from a revised $62.4 billion in March, the Commerce Department said today in Washington. The gap declined even as the shortfall with China widened.

The dollar's drop and expanding economies in Europe and Asia are fueling demand for American-made goods and the deficit is retreating from a record $67.6 billion in August. The gain in exports may also help economic growth accelerate after the slowest quarter in more than four years.

``The trade imbalance seems to be permanently on the mend,'' said Chris Rupkey, chief financial economist at Bank of Tokyo-Mitsubishi UFJ Ltd. in New York. ``Certainly, trade is going to contribute to growth in the second quarter.''

Rupkey predicted a deficit of $60.2 billion, the lowest among 74 economists surveyed by Bloomberg News before the report was published.

In April, exports rose 0.2 percent to a record $129.5 billion, as sales of foods, plastics and consumer goods such as jewelry improved. Imports slipped 1.9 percent.

``The rest of the world is growing,'' said Diane Swonk, chief economist at Mesirow Financial Inc. in Chicago. ``With the tailwind of a weak dollar, that's good news to keep our factories humming. This will probably easily throw GDP growth over the 3 percent range for the second quarter.''

Via Reynolds, who remarks, "good news, I think. Am I wrong?"

Well, it looks more good than bad to me, especially when coupled with this tantalizing little detail:

Oil imports fell to $24.9 billion, from $25 billion a month earlier, as a drop in volume offset higher prices.

Hackbarth? Verdon? What do you think?

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1 Ask Nancy Pelosi. I sue she will be able to include the words "worst ever" and "Great Depression" somewhere in the opening remarks. Don't forget to congratulate Nancy's son, Paul Jr., on his $180,000 second full-time job with InfoUSA. I'm glad they gave the boy a chance given that he has no experience o training in that firm's primary business operations. It's not the $millions that Info USA's Vino Gupta throws at Bill and Hillary, but it's a start. http://www.newsmax.com/archives/articles/2007/6/4/210922.shtml?s=al&promo_code=34F0-1 I'd give you a better link, like to the NYT, LA Times/Guardian/SocialistWorkersParty Marketeer, or the WaPo, but I guess that they have other fish to fry.

Posted by: Darrell at June 09, 2007 08:12 PM (4Gy3p)

2 "I sue"="I'm sure". . .The monkeys got their gin rations.

Posted by: Darrell at June 09, 2007 08:14 PM (4Gy3p)

3

Posted by: Attila Girl at June 10, 2007 12:00 AM (VgDLl)

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Or is Glenn Dr. Helen's trophy husband?

Likewise, I'm ready to come clean: Attila the Hub is actually my trophy spouse.

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