Panama was already better than many countries on guns. A smidge, anyhow. Now, in hopes of combating rising crime, they’re about to get better. Only a little better than the original smidge, but it’s something.
Even the most worthless of petty bureaucrats now think they deserve to be treated and feted like Oriental pashas. Who are these people, anyhow?
Once again, at least a few on the fringe are sending the message that they’ve had enough. (Tip o’ hat to jed)
Yeah, now let’s see if the EPA and its employees get treated like a private corporation and its people would be. Criminal charges. Heads rolling. Monumental fines. Screaming public outcry with environmentalists leading the mob.
The Atlantic does a provocative takedown of campus speech coddling. Doesn’t address freedom issues much, but focuses on how psychologically unhealthy this BS is.
I was going to say that this is another tiny house I kinda like. Then I got to the part about a finished one costing $95,000. Ninety-five freakin’ thousand dollars? For a teeny little trailer thingie? Is somebody pulling our collective legs??? (H/T jed)
A pair of beauties (and I really do mean beauties) via A.G. in comments. Jake Weidmann is one of only 12 master penmen in the world and the youngest by 30 years. Though I may be pretty good at finding stuff in garage sales and second-hand stores, this tops everything I’ve found in my whole life — both for art and for mystery.
Kardashian overload. It happens to the best of us. Not usually on air, though. (H/T jb)
Now, I hope that keeps you happily busy for a while, ’cause unless Washington, DC, sinks into the ocean, aliens land, or I find the tub from Cabin Sweet Cabin lying at the roadside before Friday, I’m taking a couple of days off. Should be back with you by the weekend, if not before.
I really like this tiny house story (via Shel in comments). These folks aren’t trying to be trendy or green or holier-than-thou. They just know what it’s like to have been economically clobbered and don’t want to be vulnerable again.
I’ve been working on my complicated ceiling for nine days now, along with some related projects on the walls and trim. Feels more like nine weeks. And of course, this being an old ill-built house, every step of progress reveals some new problem. I’m making only a few hours progress a day, but at least it’s getting there. Slooooowly.
Why was I not born wealthy so I could sit by a pool sipping a pina colada while someone else gets paid to do this sort of thing?
Oh well, when it’s done, I’ll brim with satisfaction about how I did it all myself. And it was a breeze, really. A breeze.
Speaking of being wealthy …
I love celebrity scandals even when (as is increasingly the case) I have no idea who the celebrities are or what they did to become famous.
Current case in point is a personage known as 50 Cent. Mr. Cent has been for years giving every sign of vast wealth. Not wealth as in “Hey, how ’bout I fund a mission to Mars?” or “You know, I’ll bet I could build an electric car for the masses.” But wealthy as in $40,000 gold chains, multiple Rolls Royces, $1.6 million dollar bets on boxing matches, and a 24-bathroom house with its own private nightclub.
Recently, however, Mr. Cent has declared bankruptcy, apparently in hopes of avoiding a $5 million court judgement against him for posting some woman’s porn video online without her consent. Now he claims and claims and claims again that he was merely pretending to be rich all this time.
Which is more pathetic? Actually being rich and using your wealth to display yourself before a moronic public? Or pretending to be rich because you’re so desperate to win the good opinion of said morons?
Um. Well, being a Clinton, and being a politician in this age of morons, probably she can go at least until next November. Would be delightful if instead of spending the proverbial “one term in office and one in jail” she took her oath of office from her cell in a federal pen.
That’s all I got today. Ceiling trim awaits. I’m closing in on having the first 1/3 of the total job done. That constitutes my proof of concept on complicated, salvaged ceilings. After that, I move the bed back out of the living room, put away the tools and recoup my sanity before embarking on the next 1/3.
Unless the pool and the umbrella drink materialize in the meantime. Then some other poor, sore, sweaty sucker with sawdust in his hair can do all the embarking and all the overhead hammering and nailing. And welcome to it.
Drawing — by hand, even doodling — enhances memory and other cognitive functions.
Remember last week’s remotely hacked Jeep? Chrysler has now recalled … well, basically every car it’s made lately. No need to take your auto to the shop, though: just wait for the USB stick or download the software. OTOH, given the company’s record of mishandling recalls, don’t be too optimistic.
New micro device delivers drugs directly to the brain. Not my brain, buddy!
And yes, the SJWs have gone completely around the bend. Latest target: Dante. The Divine Comedy, one of the great classics of literature*, is no longer fit to be taught in schools because Dante Alighieri, who lived 800 years ago, failed to hold approved modern opinions. Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch’entrate indeed!
* Which I once read in the original Italian. Not that I’m bragging or anything. Couldn’t do it today and even then I had to have an Italian dictionary at hand, not to mention a guide to the characters (oddly enough, hell turns out to be largely populated by medieval Italians, many of them Dante’s political enemies). I also skipped most of the Purgatorio and the Paradiso. Nobody, not even Dante, has ever come up with a description of heaven that isn’t a total snooze. The gruesome Inferno is the only part anybody cares about. It may be Great Literature, but entertainmentwise, it’s the medieval equivalent of a slasher flick.
Designer creates a font that reminds you whenever you type any of the thousands of the words that cue the NSA in to the fact that you’re a “terrorist.”
And just a reminder: If you haven’t yet v*ted for The Zelman Partisans there are still several more weeks. You can help not only by v*ting for TZP, but by spreading the word to your blog readers, friends, neighbors, gun club members, Twitter followers, FB friends, etc. It’s clear TZP isn’t going to set the world on fire, but it’s continuing to hold its own.
You may have noticed that BHM had problems yesterday. These were due to a major site overhaul and server move that should eventually produce good results (especially for mobile users).
But the upgrade was handled … um, gracelessly. We bloggers were caught by surprise (I was in the middle of posting at the moment things went unexpectedly haywire) and at least one reader reported getting a message that the site downage was due to a February 2010 upgrade. I gather there are still a few improvements to come, but things should be calmer today.
The TSA failed 95% of the tests to find explosives. But not to worry. They reliably found 95% of breasts, crotches, prosthetic limbs, knitting needles, and sippy cups. (H/T LA)
Soooo, while we’re all rejoicing over the momentary illusion that the NSA will no longer be scooping up all our edata, the FBI steps flies to the fore. (And where do they get all these Orwellian names? USA Freedom Act? Because it orders the phone companies to do all the collecting on behalf of the uber-government? Who do they think they’re fooling?)
This month is the 800th anniversary of the Magna Carta. Not just a piece of paper, but the first time people (even if aristocrats) placed themselves, by both force and law, above a king.
Your very much non-awwww dog story for the day. (Warning: sickening photos, though the dog has now been saved from the very worst.) Whoever did this to Caitlyn the dog should have the same thing done to them.
Yesterday I was noodling something Deep (maybe goofy and full of woo, but still … Deep) when I was yanked, almost bodily, into local politics.
Later, when I regained my sanity, my ‘Net connection was acting up, so I just bagged it for the evening. I had no post prepped for you this a.m.
I never get involved in local politics. Never, ever, ever. But yesterday from 2:30 to 6:00 (I checked the time on my cellphone), I was in it.
At 2:30 I learned that some anonymous moralists or civic betterment types were trying to use — of all things — a 40-year-old sign ordinance to crush some of the newer, more uppity, more dynamic businesses in town. And that there was going to be a meeting about it in three hours.
This sort of thing raises my hackles so much my spine hurts.
I didn’t even know the town had a sign ordinance. But I spent the next couple of hours researching it and making notes. Yes, the businesses in question are clearly out of compliance — along with at least 1/3 of all the companies in town. Unlike most of the other businesses in town, though, the uppity ones are drawing enough attention to themselves to prompt tourists (passing through on their way elsewhere) actually to stop. And, you know, spend money here. And to notice how nice the place is.
Thanks to them, we have a chance to fill up some long-empty storefronts and keep new shops alive for more than the usual, desperate six months.
My hackles were more like spikes running up my spine by the time I got to the meeting.
I turned out not to need the spikes, however. The meeting was lightly attended and very informal. Everybody who wanted a say got to have one and things went about as well as they could have.
Tellingly, not one of the moralists who’d gone to the local gov-o-crats with their complaints chose to show at the meeting. Other than me, the only audience members who spoke were the owners of the “offending” businesses.
Among the ‘crats we addressed, only one had obviously made up her mind against us, and her entire argument seemed to be borrowed from what some other town’s ‘crats had come up with. At the other end of the panel, we clearly had a friend who maintained that you shouldn’t risk regulating businesses out of existence. Between them sat a quiet, but seemingly open-minded majority.
I think they’ll end up rewriting the ordinance to allow the uppity businesses to continue to attract attention to themselves — and to the town.
If they don’t, they’ll face some serious questions about selective writing and enforcement of laws.
For a while I even fantasized that they’d have some very spiky creatures running against a few of them in the next election. Then I regained my sanity.
You know those famous electronic billboards in Times Square? LOL, the feds apparently demanded NYC take them all down. “Highway beautification,” you know. Then just that quickly, they denied making the demand. But turns out the signs are in violation of fedlaw. Governing highways. To paraphrase Kipling, “… if once you have paid him the taken his Dane-geld, you never get rid of the Dane.”
Like Pamela Geller or loathe her, she has a point. One might wish the current crop of liberal authoritarians had as good a grasp on the meaning of free speech.
Sigh. Didja ever think you’d see the day when people would be moronic enough not only to v*te with their sex organs — but boast about it?
I saw a guy today in our little tienda Mexicanawearing this tee-shirt. Got a big laugh — though I suppose my Irish ancestors didn’t.
Cody Wilson is suing the State Department on First Amendment grounds for “preempting” him from posting Liberator pistol plans online. He’s got Alan Gura on his side. And SAF doing the only thing it’s actually good for.