Who could fail to fall for Right Girl? Not me.

She's my own little Hadji Girl. Except that I actually get along with her family—at least, with her warm and charming husband.

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if Obama were elected President.

And I passed out.

Of course I won't deny that he'd be the best-looking President we've had in a good long time. Ears notwithstanding, and despite that mole to the right of his nose.

It's just that . . . I don't think the people who would be thrown out of work—or have their civil liberties infringed upon—will be as impressed with the man's looks as we might, um, hope.

UPDATE: Catch that buzz. D.R. Tucker at Human Events remarks that "we might as well start calling him President Obama right now," and posits that wwwe are heading, well, somewhere in a handbasket:

The right may not like it, but any conservative criticism of “Obama-mania” will inevitably be regarded as sour grapes by Obama partisans and the mainstream press (but I repeat myself). After all, some on the right (most notably William Kristol) wanted Colin Powell to run as a Republican in 1996 precisely because they knew he would receive this sort of national adulation as a candidate—national adulation that would have swept Powell and the GOP into the White House, his own left-wing social views notwithstanding.

Had the Iraq War not been so controversial and so demonized, Condi Rice might have received this kind of national worship. If the war had ended with a stable Iraq and very few American casualties, Rice would have been embraced from sea to shining sea as a Presidential candidate. The mainstream mediaÂ’s attacks on Rice would have had no effect whatsoever.

How can the Republicans run against Obama? It wonÂ’t be enough to highlight his far-left voting record. ItÂ’s been a long time since a Democrat lost a Presidential election solely because he was a liberal.

Michael Dukais, Al Gore and John Kerry all had serious moonbat tendencies, but it was their flaws as candidates, not their ideology alone, that ultimately brought about their losses.

Read Tucker's full post. Then get drunk, get up tomorrow sometime, and go back to fighting the good fight. What choice (except in that bogus absolute philosophical sense) do we have?

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Gateway Pundit has a summary.

I've lived through exactly one set of riots (okay, okay: two—I was quite young during the Watts riots, and I lived many miles away in Whittier, so I was far from the flames).

But during the Rodney King riots in 1992, the saving grace was that some people had guns, and were able to defend their lives and property when they absolutely had to.

I know England has largely given up on there being a fundamental right to self-defense‐even when guns aren't used at all (for instance, when one uses any sort of blunt instrument against an attacker—this is often prosecuted.)

But has the rest of Western Europe done so as well? And when the veneer of civilization wears thin—as it does everywhere, from time to time—what recourse does the common person have against these, um, overly exuberant "youths"?

Self-defense isn't simply a human right; it is the human right.

h/t to Dean Esmay, who's been carrying the button/legend about self-defense forever. It always struck me as a fundamental truth.

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why?

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Canadian blogger RightGirl and her badass Celtic husband at CPAC. Oh, how I love those two: I must entice them to get down here to L.A.

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No girl could ever have a better stalker than you: I got the little model Cruiser last night. This morning the Chrysler racing jacket and the Hendrick's gin caddy arrived.

And I'm still wearing that cashmere cardigan every day: the buttons appear to be made of real bone, and that sweater is the softest thing I own. Perfect for wearing on its own here, or layering on the East Coast.

I'm about to take a short break from the salt mines; I might read the James Thurber book I have stashed here . . .

Isn't life delicious?

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1 If only there was some way to say these things in a less public forum . . . ;-)

Posted by: Darrell at February 15, 2008 04:00 PM (a2NE8)

2 Oh. Did you want more modifiers . . .?

Posted by: Attila Girl at February 15, 2008 06:17 PM (larLB)

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I swear, he's like Isaac Asimov: he doesn't set intellectual limits on himself, and he's ridiculously productive.

Courtesy of Jane Van Ryan of Energy API—my favorite educator on the subject of energy—comes a short interview she conducted with stud/god Stein on how important it is not to demonize the oil and natural gas industries. (There's a transcript of the exchange on the linked page, as well as the podcast itself.)

Money quote:

Recently, there has been a great deal of talk about alternatives, and while they will play a part in supplying future energy, they will only meet a miniscule amount of demand for many years. Oil and natural gas will be the bedrock of our society and all industrialized societies for the foreseeable future.

Our goal should be to increase supplies and stop criticizing those who are bringing it to us.

As we speak, the House Democrats are trying to push a bill through that will increase taxes on the energy industry to punitive levels. Given the need right now to re-invest in R&D and figure out which energy sources might eventually be able to supplant oil and natural gas, this seems incredibly short-sighted. Call your congresscritter, and let him or her know that this isn't the time to undercut the people who are helping us figure out how we're going to function in the future.

If Pelosi wants the punish entities simply for making money, the least she could do is send the confiscated funds to a worthy cause. Like, you know: me.

Seriously: this is a rather stupid idea.

Make the call.

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Professor Purkinje forwent the "political woodie" he says he would have got from making me wait in the car while he went to vote for Obama in the Maryland primaries.

Instead, he ran around the lab in an Obama T-shirt, singing "Oh, Bama, oh oh Bama, oh oh—lookin' for my Obama."

It's possible that he borrowed the melody for that one from the White Boys who started it all.

(Note: no comments about the good professor here. In a way, I envy anyone having any hope or idealism about politics right now. I wish I could vote for Obama and think it would do any good. Say what you like about Obama—it you put my friend down I will hunt you down and drill you full of holes.)

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This is Science & Airplane day on my annual D.C./Baltimore trip, and I'm in Professor Purkinje's lovely office surrounded by original artwork and cool furniture, enjoying the the steely-gray Maryland sky visible out of his large windows.

I'm a bit behind on sleep, having stayed up too late last night trying to post pictures to this blog, which sometimes works and sometimes doesn't, due to: 1) the fact that this computer is a bit low on memory; 2) my ineptness in Matters Arithmetical (for when I need to re-size photos "manually" after downloading; had you noticed I almost always download them originally to the wrong dimensions?) and 3) Movable Type's oppression of those who have tiny traces of Dutch in their mostly European ethnic ancestry. I believe I deserve reparations, but have not yet decided whom they might be from.

Home tonight, and back in the office tomorrow. Earning money. It's a beautiful thing, kids.

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Walked along the river by the Pretty Boy Dam in Maryland, wearing Professor Purkinje's wife's jacket and her long underwear.

Why? Is there something going on in politics that should depress me more than usual? Well—do tell. Send me a link, and I'll take a peek.

Maybe.

An election? What the fuck is that? And why should I care?"

I'll back in Los Angeles late tomorrow night. Let me know if nuclear annihilation is near; okay?

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So it's completely different. Ace of Spades:

Britain, which nobly stamped out the scourge of slavery in much of the world, is on the brink of re-instituting it in order to "maintain social cohesion."

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I knew my cousin Attila would understand that I was slammed for time this year, and didn't have the time to see him.

Also, what would we have talked about? My antipathy for McCain? I'm even boring myself with that subject these days.

Instead, I had my bi-annual lunch with Mr. Photon Courier, (also of Chicago Boyz). We discussed money, the human condition, and whether homo sapiens are really wired for happiness.

Thanks for the link, Cuz. Next time, for sure; I'm actually trying to get out here in the late summer/early fall. We'll see what happens.

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Here he is—Mr. Right Wing News himself—enjoying sushi with a few other CPAC-ers.

A few nights ago I was chatting up my favorite members of Big Oil (more on that later), when Hawkins walked up. The discussion turned to the origin of his Southern drawl, and I turned to the woman I'd been speaking with.

"Make no mistake about it," I told her. "John is a heavy hitter in the blogosphere."

"Wait a minute," he asked me. "Are you telling her that because she asked for guidance, or are you clarifying because I have an accent?"

"The former!" I exclaimed. "And, by the way—must you make everything sound so dirty?"

Variation #572 in the "Joy floozying it up with the Big-Dog Bloggers" series.

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On an article on Mrs. C.

Apparently, I was considered the voice or reason.

I do not believe my husband was consulted about this implication.

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who is standing there, innocently signing books.

I don't tell him who I am, or explain that I loved America Alone, or that I saw his speech a couple of years ago at the Claremont Institute dinner in Beverly Hills. Or that Kate McMillan would vouch for my work, or that I link to Steyn's articles a lot.

I just walk up out of nowhere and announce that "I'd like a hug, and a picture," handing the camera to one of my Canadian Blog-Mafia friends.

To Steyn's credit, he hugged me, and Roy got the shot just as we were coming out of the hug. "Um, I'm a bit cut off here," I tell Roy. "Mark, would you mind making out with me just one more time?"

After we get the picture I give him my card and tell him why I appreciate the work he's doing, and explain that my favorite Canadian bloggers see a huge backlash starting in Canada over the free speech issue. We have a nice chat. But it starts with Steyn being a good sport. That's a non-trivial issue, no?

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So, several of us went to a screening of the "Director's Cut" of Ben Stein's Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed last night, which takes on the scientific establishment regarding the way any discussion of "intelligent design" (evolution that is guided—and was potentially initially ignited—by some Creator) is being systematically excised from academic debate.

The movie isn't about what a great theory Intelligent Design is, or whether it's simply Creationism in hipper clothing, sporting a nose ring and a leather jacket. The movie is about freedom of speech within Academia, and how important it is to put ideas on the table, and debate their merits, rather than oversimplifying them and then dismissing them out of hand.

It's difficult to predict how good the final product will be: damned good, I suspect. But at present the film is way too long, and some of the historical parallels and cultural allusions are certain to be lost in a way that will drastically re-shape the movie before it is released. This is an excellent work, but the incomplete editing made some parts a bit draggy. I know that problem will be fixed; I'm simply not certain how it will be done, or what various judgement calls will be made.

I have a deal with Concerned Women for America's J. Matt Barber to write a full essay regarding the arguments Stein makes in the film, in exchange for getting his SoCon, Christian-right reading of my favorite book by my favorite athiest, a bitchin' defense of free speech by Jonathan Rauch (Kindly Inquisitors, in case I haven't pimped it lately).

But Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed is compelling because it (1) strikes a blow against intellectual totalitarianism, and (2) features the droll, egghead teddy bear Stein running around in a suit, tie, and tennis shoes, talking to people about academic freedom, the connection between Darwinism in its purest form and (a) eugenics, (b) National Socialism, and (c) the unsavory side of the [essential for women's rights, as I see it] birth-control movement.

Please keep in mind that when the movie is released, opening weekend will make it or break it, so clear your calendar once the date has been set (sometime this spring) and make it important.

Also, Ben Stein—like his "cousin" Mark Steyn—is a total stud/god, and a true renaissance man. I also consider him, because of his column "Ben Stein's Diary" in The American Spectator, to be the first true blogger—a New Media pioneer.

I have his autograph, by the way. He was taping an episode of some show my husband was producing, and I begged the spouse to grab an autograph from him. Stein was prepared to be a good sport about this, but when he discovered that I wanted his autograph because of his writing for TAS rather than his work on Ferris Bueller's Day Off or The Wonder Years, he was visibly thrilled. The autograph, written on the first page of a script for an animated show, says "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" over his signature. It's actually one of my most prized possessions.

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I announce to Caltech Girl.

"Cool," she tells me. "A couple of the Western States girl bloggers will be arranging a road trip out there to see both of 'em later on in the year."

"Count me in," I remark, "as long as I can raise the scratch. And I usually can, in a pinch."

So last night Right Girl asks to see my tits.

"What is this?" I ask. "A goddamn biker convention?"

"No, it's just that I haven't seen them in two years."

"They are the same," I explain. "Except that they may be back down to 'D' cups, now that I'm less chunky than I was back then."

"Aw," she wheedles. "Just a peek."

I pull my black tank top to reveal my lacy purple bra.

"Those are my girls!" she smiles happily.

I pull my blouse back down. "Funny. I thought they were mine."

"By the way," she informs me, "now you have an idea what I had to do to see the Donovan gun vault. His wife and I."

"Well, it might be worth it." I'm pondering the situation. "After all, that military memorobilia he has is real. And I hear that it's spectacular."

Did we get pictures last night? Well, I don't rightly recall. The PayPal button is on your left.

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. . . was sitting next to me on Bloggers' Row at CPAC yesterday.

"Okay, Attila Girl," he tells me. "I want to send you something. What's your email address?"

"Well," I respond, "it's 'miss-dot-attila . . . "

"Don't give me that shit," he interrupts. "I want the real one."

He's sharp, for a guy who cannot modulate his voice to save his life.

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I said, "no, no, no."

Yet, here I am, courtesy of my loyal—and generous—readers.

Apologies, natch, to Amy Winehouse. (Warning: the music starts on her [linked] homepage without being asked to; let the web surfer beware!)

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. . . on our current electoral predicament:

John McCain gives a speech and everybody starts getting their erections back?

Well. That would be a "no."

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