I adore Megan, particularly since she doesn't preach veganism—nor even vegetarianism—for the rest of us. She's just bein' her bitchin' self:

Prosperity allows us to have things that we all now regard as moral requirements. It permits us liberal democracy, a form of social organization that doesn't much work in hunter-gatherer tribes. It enables us to forgo infanticide, a necessary form of population control when Mom has to carry the babies everywhere and an extra unnecessary mouth might doom the whole tribe. It lets us reserve the death penalty for the most heinous violent crimes, because stealing a loaf of bread no longer threatens its owners own nutritional health. We don't have to stone adulterers, because we have enough breathing room that such behavior no longer poses an existential threat to the tribe. Wealth enables charity in the deeper, older sense of the word.

That this is true in no way undermines the decision to be charitable. Morality lies in doing the best you can with what you have. Given that I do have the luxury of finding delicious vegan food and non-leather shoes, I believe I have an obligation to do so. If that should change, I will go back to eating and wearing animal products without moral regret--though with a fair amount of digestive distress.

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. . . for reminding me of this great clip:

Thanks, Z!

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Iowahawk in ghey Paree:

"So vhat are you doink here? Are you artist or writers or zomesink?" laughs Fille un.

The Doctor and the Professor point at me. "He's a writer."

"Really?" they ask, enthusiastically. "Novels? Screenplays? Have we heard of you?"

I'm still looking around trying to figure out who they were pointing at.

"He's a blogger," offers Professor Jonathan. "He's . . . well, sort of known."

The three filles react to this as if they had learned I wrote school lunch menus or lawnmower warning stickers. Despite his revealed association with blogospheric scum, the filles continue their flirtation with Dr. Carlos, who deftly extracts a party invite for Saturday night.

Apparently, that Burge Magic doesn't quite work across the Atlantic. Which is cool, because that means that the Chicks of the Americas have him all to ourselves.

I mean, I know that I'm married, and all—but it's nice to have that Dove Bar in the freezer you know you'll never eat.

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That is all.

(For the next 24 hours or so, just look over to the right. As of Friday evening, you'll need to follow the link.)

"Owning." That's it, in a nutshell. Once African-Americans begin to figure this out in larger numbers—and it's already begun, as you know—the Democratic Party is going to have some 'splainin' to do.

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1 Well, maybe not God, per se... there be only one position, and the job's taken. However, I will make a very strong case that Mr Muir is a god, possibly a Greater Power on Faerun (well, at least a Chosen), or possibly a Level 70 Night Elf Druid. Nerds and Geeks knowing what I mean. BTW, on a completely different track I wonder if Chris could someday shoehorn Bridget from Guilty Gear into his artwork one of these days. That oughtta be fun

Posted by: Gregory at June 22, 2008 06:15 PM (cjwF0)

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Glenn Reynolds on the Kozinski "scandal":

People want to know what I think. I don't have much to say about this nonstory, except to offer this compelling legal analysis: Since it's generally thought that men are disproportionate consumers of porn because of their gender, and because, hormonally, they're driven to favor visual stimuli, then obviously punishing porn consumption constitutes sex discrimination, and is probably unconstitutional. Plus, research establishes that porn is good for America. You don't hate America, do you?

The man has a point!

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It all seems to hinge on whether this is Terminator-style time travel, or whether one is showing up wearing wildly inappropriate clothing (and one's gold tooth fillings, and wedding ring—maybe even one's Swiss pocket knife).

Beyond that, there's the issue of whether one is allowed to take a small bag of necessities: spices, a few reference works, a cigarette lighter. (I'd take Tampax and a water-purification kit.)

Via McArdle, who suggests:

Your biggest comparative advantage is the ability to read and write, and your knowledge of modern sanitation techniques. However, given that you don't speak the language, or know how to do any of the basic manual labor careers open to you, you may have a hard time surviving long enough to employ these. Do not be tempted to do nifty things with modern technology, as this will probably cause people to suspect you are a witch or similar. Go to church regularly and mumble in fake Latin; no one will know if you're getting it wrong anyway.

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. . . in the news.

BTW, tomorrow is my first on-duty stint as part of Hawkins' Saturday crew. So send me lots of tips tonight and tomorrow morning. Thanks!

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Jane Novak will be on Fox & Friends in just a few hours, discussing the plight of the Yemeni people. (That is, she should be on-air at 6:20 Eastern, 4:20 Central, and Oh-Gosh Pacific. I'm staying up, and will crash on the couch afterward, with a stern note to my husband that I don't really exist until noon. At that point, of course, I'll make all my outstanding phone calls, and be up in time to greet the plumber at 2:00 p.m. This whole thing is not mitigating my vampirism, in case you were wondering.)

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