Thoughtless Thursday (updated)

I'm too giddy about the way Buckner Verrilli has handled the barrycare arguments to think straight.  Which means I have not thoughts of my own and the only thing I can do is poach ideas from other blogs.  Dunno why nobody has thought of doing that before... 

Amongst my little circle of blog buddies, there has been a lot of talk about fishing.  Maybe it is the spring in the air that calls us to the great outdoors.  Maybe it is the fear that the trout I pull out of the creek will be all I have to live on after I pay my 'lectric bill and put gas in the car.  Either way, this discussion of fishing hearkens to mind the very first fish I ever caught...

mature adults, like me, may actually remember this ad when it aired on one of our 13 available

cable channels, and most of those 13 were useless and they all went off-air around midnight

and we had no remote except "get up and change the channel!" and get off my lawn uphill both

ways in the snow.

The title says "1973" which puts me right at the same vintage as this junior baloney broker.  In fact, that could be me, except it is well documented that I can't sing and I had the mom-approved V05 greasy slicked-back hairdo (to tame the cowlicks) at that age.  I say "could have been me" because my first fish was caught off a similar dock using a nearly identical toy fishin' pole.  It was a perch ("perch" is an Native American word meaning "useless fish that likes to swallow your hook so you have to rip its innards out to get it off the line") not much bigger than my child-sized hand.  I have photographic evidence to back this claim - but trust me, it isn't terribly impressive.  This modest beginning has led to a lifelong love affair with fishing.  I love it so much I actually go fishing once every five years or so.  Then I just get pissed and go to Skippers.

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Science! is still preoccupied with global warming and what to do about it.  They put forward a series of suggestions, intended as examples of the sorts of human engineering measures that people could voluntarily adopt. These include:

-Induce intolerance to red meat (think lactose intolerance), since livestock farming accounts for a significant portion of greenhouse gas emissions.

OK, you've lost me already. Wait... that would mean more burgers and steaks and bacon for ME. Maybe this plan has merit after all.

-Make humans smaller to reduce the amount of energy we each need to consume. This could be done by selecting smaller embryos through preimplantation genetic diagnosis, a technique already in use to screen for genetic diseases. “Human engineering could therefore give people the choice between having a greater number of smaller children or a smaller number of larger children,” they write.

You go ahead and have a bunch of little kids.  I'll have the big kids that beat your little kids up and take their lunch money.  Then they'll grow up and be in the NFL.  I'll never have to work again.  Besides, if I were shrunk to a more energy efficient size, I'd need an elevator to get into my big gas hoggy SUV.  And I wouldn't be able to see over the dashboard, so I might accidentally run over a bunch of miniature Critical Mass cyclists.  Hold on a sec, that "problem" has a certain appeal to it.

-Reduce birthrates by making people smarter, since higher cognitive ability appears linked to lower birthrates. This could be achieved through a variety of means, including better schooling, electrical stimulation of the brain and drugs designed to improve cognitive ability, they propose.

"Take the pill and enter The Matrix" is what they're trying to say.

-Treat people with hormones, such as oxytocin, to make us more altruistic and empathetic.

Aw geez. Their idea of "improving" humanity is to reduce us to a bunch of miniature vegan drug-addled empaths with wires coming out of our heads.  Dear Science, if you are going to piddle away grant money on "improving" humanity, why doncha actually, you know, improve humanity?  How 'bout you splice some chlorophyll genes into us, so when I get hungry I can just lay down in the sun for a while?  What's the matter with that idea?  Then Cameron can use union-member green people in his sequel to Avatar instead of those ludicrously expensive CGI smurfs he used in the first one.

Better still, why not graft some electric eel genes into us?  Think of the money we could save by not having to give each cop a tazer!  We could feed all the homeless and house all the hungry with all that extra dough!  And when people get in a fight it would make cool zappy noises like those black/white guys who hated each other in the original Star Trek. (Which I used to watch, as a child, on one of those 13 available cable channels).

Oooh... Another idea!  What about bio-luminescent genes from fireflies?  We could glow and no longer need those [bleep]ing CFL light bulbs.  Much energy savings!  We could huddle all the #occutards around a solar panel, and they'd become useful for the first time in their lives!

As Instapundit might say, faster please!

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Oh, almost forgot:  The highest exemplar of poetry ever penned in the Queen's English.

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UPDATE: Oh, almost forgot this gem from the local paper:

VAMPIRE ON THE GREYHOUND?: 5:45 p.m. 508 S.W. Monroe Ave. A 14-year-old girl called Corvallis police to say that while traveling from Eugene to Portland, she stopped in Eugene and had a strange interaction with a man. The man reportedly approached her, told her it was her birthday, hugged her and bit her neck. She told police she had a small bite mark on her neck but was otherwise uninjured. She then rode the bus with the man to Portland and did not report it until she got to Portland and told her sister about the incident. The girl described the man as a black male in his 20s, wearing a blue “I Carly” shirt.

Read more: http://www.gazettetimes.com/news/local/crime-watch-march/article_737bb4da-78b2-11e1-bd34-0019bb2963f4.html#ixzz1qYUD2xLj

A black vampire in a blue "I Carly" shirt.  Dude.

Deep thoughts...

Obama sucks and so does the weather

95 "barry good" posts later, I think I've pretty well established that our pResident is a "nice guy, just in over his head" a bumbling narcissist leftoid with a tendency towards prevarication and malice.  Rather than re-hash that theme, or conjure some crazy alternate dimension where Biden is actually smart enough to not give himself 2nd degree burns from eating a fruit cup, I'm going after a more universal topic this time...

[dramatic musical notes to create emotional tension until topic is revealed: dun dun dunnnn]

...the weather

Geez.  Crawled outta bed at oh-four-hundred this morning and stepped out the front door to head to AM grunt job...  Encountered SNOW.  Everywhere.  The neighborhood looked like some wintertime Thomas Kincade painting.  Except, hello?, it's bleeping March.  It's not even early March.  We've already passed most of March's milestones: the Ides**, St. Patrick's Day, barry's NCAA bracket gettin' blowed up by some minor-conference overachiever, and even the stinkin' equinox!  It's pretty much LATE March now.

There was about 3/4" when I left the house.  As I write this this afternoon, it has literally been snowing non-stop since before 4:00am.  The accumulation topped out at about 2" before it warmed slightly, so the new snow is falling at about the replacement rate of the melting snow.  Which means the whole town is now a big sloppy Slurpee.  I'm sure the mountains that surround our valley are getting hammered.  Depending on which weather forecaster is flappin' lip at any given moment, we're supposed to get from 2 to 5 more inches this evening and another 1 to 3 tomorrow.

Alright, this is just stupid.  We rarely get meaningful amounts of snow even in the depths of winter.  Never in March.  So far this year we haven't hit 70^o at all.  Only three days in the freekin' 60s!  Enough!  Tell ya what's gonna happen:  I'm gonna stroll right into the #occupy camp and find the tent where that lazy punk Global Warming hangs out.  I'm gonna haul him out of his tent, punch him in the spleen, and say "Listen to me, Global Warming, you disgusting emo skinny-jean layabout lump of fail!  Get out there and get to work, or I'll get Glee! cancelled!"

Notice, that I'm only gonna spleen-punch him once.  To do so twice might make him too exuberant.  That would be bad.  Like, f-word bad.  Because around here, unseasonable snow is usually followed by warm rain, which leads to the f-word.  Flood.  I ain't ready to play that game again.

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Wanna know what else ticks me off?  (Actually I'm sure you don't, but I'm going all-in on the venting today.)
Morons who think they're smarter than Mother Nature.  The highway between here in Corvallis and the Oregon coast is a twisty and nasty.  Scenic, too, but I digress.  ODOT has spent the last dozen or so years widening the road and straightening the curves.  But there worst part, around Eddyville, has remained unimproved.  The land around there is very unstable.  It gets around 100" of rain per year.  There are frequent mudslides and the occasional boulder rolling onto the roadway.  So what genius plan did the ODOT braintrust come up with?  "Hey, let's build a whopping bridge, many miles long, over the whole mess!  Let's make parts of it over 200' high!  And let's also leave it up to the contractor to figure out how to stabilize the mud under the footings.  Mud that never sits still and is certain to totally spazz out during an earthquake!  It'll be the biggest contract we've ever awarded!  Yay for smart people!"

So the contractors started working and then noticed all the concrete they'd poured was moving around.  So they told ODOT they need more dough to do more stabilizing.  ODOT gave 'em more cash.  Literally millions of yards of dirt have been rearranged, but the whole thing is still jello.  There are magnificent concrete columns rising 200' feet in the air, but they move about 3/4" annually.  May not sound like much, but concrete doesn't have a lot of "give."  It is either stable or it is a pile of rubble.  So there is no bridge atop the columns.  Contractor said they need a LOT more scratch if they're gonna make it work.  ODOT said no.  So contractor said, "later, dudes!"  Now everybody's lawyered up and givin' each other the stink eye.  And a trip to the coast involves driving past at a bunch of really expensive giant concrete columns sticking out of the middle of nothing.  They look like huge middle fingers to me.

History shows again and again how nature points out the folly of man...

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** that post from 3 years ago seemed to me like a pretty funny one.  But my meager readership was even more meager back then.  Dunno if a single person read it the first time.

In summary...

Trestin is running for office in Utah.  Good luck, blogbrother!

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Max artfully and humorously pwns Portland City Councilor/Water Commish/Hypermoronic Megaliberal Randy "Couple million bucks for a public toilet is a bargain" Leonard in the comments section of a  NW blog.

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Came up with a work-around for some wordpress blogs that have been barfing my comments.  I've heard that Matt and possibly others have been having the same problem.  I'd tell y'all what I did, but it was rather convoluted and I can't really remember what I did.

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Brother-in-law is still staying with us.  It has not been as miserable as I'd expected.  The other day he offered to go grocery shopping.  Yeah, dude - go for it.  He asked what I wanted.  I told him I wanted some apples.  And not some nasty, mealy, cardboardy apples, either.  I want crisp, crunchy apples!  Don't care if they're sweet or tart, as long as they have some pop!  So, BiL asks the produce dude which apples are the crispest.  Produce dude said "Pink Lady", which BiL kindly brought home.  Ain't ne'er heard o' no Pink Lady apple b'fo.  *BITE*  Hmmm, very slight tooth-dents in the apple's skin. *HARDER BITE* Teeth go

(Whoops.  Wait a sec.  "Lady" by Styx is on the radio.  That always calls for a time-out.  I love that march-beat thing during the last verse.  OK, song's over.)

partway into the apple, but not enough to get a real bite.  *REALLY HARD BITE, COMPLETE WITH STRAINING AND GRUNTING NOISES*  Alright, have you ever been playing tug-of-war, and the fartbreath on the other end of the rope decides to suddenly let go, just to watch you go flying buttocks-over-teakettle?  Yeah, that's what this apple did when it finally yielded to my bite.  Bit the McCrap out of my lower lip.  Decent tasting apple, but sheesh.  If the palestinian kids find out about these apples, it's gonna be real hard for the makers of Intifada Throwin' Rocks^TM to stay competitive.

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Clickin' through some links that Harvey included in one of his posts at IMAO, I ran into this:

That, right there, is the upper limit of just how much coolness can be packed into a 3" circle.  Available at the Mil-Spec Monkey.

barry heavy metal

pResident Obama and Energy Secretary Steven Chu are reclined on the White House porch.

[Obama] "OK.  I'm about to unveil our new energy policy.  But just in case the teleprompter hiccups, let's go over it one more time."

[Chu] "Alright.  We start by announcing that all incandescent light bulbs will be immediately illegal, and all citizens have 24 hours to relinquish them to a government-approved disposal center.  The incandescent, or 'Edison' bulbs must be replaced by CFL lamps.  Which is extra cool, since we both own stock in CFL makers."

[Obama, nodding] "Uh-huh, uh-huh."

[Chu] "Then we have the jackboots begin inspecting homes for contraband Edison bulbs citizens may be trying to keep and/or hide.  We'll prioritize our search so that republican regions get searched first.  Violators will be sent to starvation camps."

[Obama] "Michelle will like that.  Finally getting some victory in the War on Obesity and all that."

[Chu] "Yes.  Also, the use of CFLs plus half the country wasting away in the camps will drastically reduce the nation's energy requirements.  Those of us not in the camps will be able to plug in our high-end Teslas and Fiskers without overwhelming the power grid."

[Obama] "Nice.  I really like the way you've thought this through."

Joseph Robinette Biden barges in.

[Biden] "Hey, boss!  Mornin', Chu-choo!  What's up?"

A Haz-Mat response team is seen nearby, gowning up for a dangerous mission.

[Obama] "Wonder what those guys in the bunny suits are up to?"

[Biden] "It's probably my fault.  I mean, most things are mostly my fault it seems, but this time I really think it is my fault.  I was in the Lincoln Bedroom, practicing my juggling.  One of the bowling pins I was juggling hit the chandelier and broke a bunch of those curly-q light bulbs.  People have been pretty much freaking out ever since."

[Chu] "No wonder!  Those lamps have mercury in them!  Very toxic!"

[Biden] "Have you noticed how much those lamps look like the curly fries they sell at Arby's?  The Arby's in Scranton is the best.  The best, I tell ya.  Oh, mercury? Whoo!  I call dibs on the mercury!"

[Chu] "Why would you want that mercury?"

[Biden] "My granddaddy back in Scranton used to have a big vial of it.  Me 'n the cousins would play with it.  Loads of fun.  I was the only one brave enough to drink any, though."

[Chu, astonished] "You drank mercury?!?"

[Biden] "Yeah.  All the time, actually.   The next day would be the best part - what I left in the toiled looked just like something out of Terminator 2!  So awesome!"  [laughing] "Sarah, call to John.  *fwoosh* See ya later, Terminator!"

[Obama] "Mr. Chu, what are the symptoms of mercury exposure?"

[Chu] "Mercury, like many other of the heavy metals..."

[Biden, interrupting, air guitar] "Heavy metal noisssssssse!"

[Chu] "As I was saying...  One of the first things is hair loss. After that"

[Obama, interrupting] "Excuse me.  Joe?  Haven't you experienced hair loss?"

[Biden, proudly] "Hair Club for Men!  I'm not just a member, I'm the president!  Actually, you're the president and I'm the vice-president.  Well, of the United States, that is.  In the Hair Club, I think I'm like the Sergeant-at-Arms or something."

[Chu] "Another symptom is impaired cognitive function."

[Obama] "Try speaking English, OK?"

[Chu] "It makes ya stupid."

[Obama] "Allah have mercy!  You're saying that the same stuff that made Joe the way he is, is right now floating into my lungs?!  Gaaah!!"  [running in circles, panicking. Yelling into cell phone, which he hasn't even bothered to dial] "Quick!  Warm up Air Force 1!  Get me an oxygen bottle! Burn the Lincoln Bedroom!  And all the sheets and towels!  And get me a jug of Mucinex and, and, a respirator mask and some sunscreen and get me the **** outta here!"

[Biden, to Haz-Mat team] "Hey, guys!  Be sure 'n save me some of that mercury, OK?"

[Chu, facepalm]

First ever: Bad Mood Monday Poetry Slam

My bank is giving me a BIG TIME runaround.  My wife gets paid Wednesday, so I think then it'll be time to go bank shopping.  I won't name my current bank here, but their initials are W.E.L.L.S.  F.A.R.G.O.    And so maybe I'm not a high roller with a lot on deposit... Doesn't mean you can crap on me!

Don't bank at W.F.  They suck monkey pus.  Seriously.

Until Wednesday, though, I'm pretty much powerless.  All I can do is recklessly LASH OUT at anything and anybody nearby - innocent or not.  And how better to do that than by a poetry slam, right?  OK, I'll go first.

There once was an Infidel from Manhattan

Whose date leaked all the air and got flattened

After a big swig of gin,

He wiped off his chin

and said "I wonder if that bicycle innertube patch kit thing will avail me at all or will I be forever lonely?"

OK, the meter is a little off on that one.  But you get the drift.

Maybe a haiku would work better...

Sergeant Pennington

Honored Air Force Veteran

Does not like Croce

If you've had a rotten Monday and also feel the need to recklessly lash out, feel free.  Limerick, haiku, freestyle rap, Shakespearean sonnet, doesn't matter - just let 'er rip.  The object of your poesy may be real, fictitious, imaginary, or even yours truly.  I don't care.  Say whatever you want about me**.  It's not like you're going to make my day somehow worse.

If you've had an uncommonly wonderful Monday, please keep that to yourself.  I don't wanna hear it.

**As long as your language is no worse than PG rated, K?

Barry spendy gasoline

Obama, slumped on couch, stepping through the channels on the giant White House flat panel TV.  Biden enters.

[Biden] "Hey, boss!  How are you?"

[Obama] So bored.  Governing sucks.  I wish the R's would finish deciding who is going to be their sacrificial punk so I could get back out on the campaign trail more.  And what's all this birth-control stuff on C-SPAN?"

[Biden] "Oh, some student from Georgetown complaining that contraception is so expensive, she can barely afford to be a slut and a law student at the same time, and she wants barrycare to pay for her pills."

[Obama] "I'm sure that when we finally finish reading that bill, we'll find that there's something in there to help her."

[Biden] "I can't remember if it was Winston Churchill or W.C. Fields, but I like what he said about Georgetown: 'If you gathered up all the slutty Georgetown law school chicks and laid them end-to-end, nobody would be the least bit surprised'."

[Obama] "I have no idea what that means.  So it was probably that Churchill bunghole.  That guy never made any sense to me.  But the American economy pretty much runs on lawyers and sluts, so this might be kind of a big deal.  Thankfully I don't care about the American economy.  I actually feel more like golfing at the moment."

[Obama, into intercom] "Hey, get Rahm to warm up the motorcade and take me to that swanky country club out on the edge of town."

[intercom voice] "Sorry, m'lord.  Rahm doesn't work here any more."

[Obama] "Oh, yeah.  Get Daley to warm up my car."

[intercom] "Sorry, sire.  Daley quit, too."

[Obama] "Dang it!  Who does work here now?"

[intercom] "Sadly, m'lord, I am not really sure."

[Biden] "Boss, I'll handle this one."

[Obama] "Thanks, Joe.  When I put one in the water hazard today, I'll mulligan it in your honor."

Biden dashes off to start the vehicles and round up the Secret Service detail.  Shortly thereafter, he returns.

[Obama] "That was fast, Joe.  Thanks."

[Biden] "Sir, I'm afraid all the motorcade vehicles are out of gas."

[Obama, incredulous] "Whaaat?"

[Biden] "The guy down in the motor pool explained that the drastic uptick in fuel prices, combined with your and the the first lady racking up serious Frequent Flyer miles, means that they've already burned through the year's fuel budget.  They can't buy any more gas unless Congress passes a special appropriation."

[Obama] "Dang!" [Dials a phone number] "Generalismo Chavez!  Como estas?"

[Hugo Chavez] "mumble"

[Obama] "Sorry to hear that.  Say, how's about you hook me up with a tanker load of that fine, fine Venezuelan petrol?"

[Chavez] "mumble"

[Obama] "But just a few months ago, you said your tumors tingled with excitement every time you thought about me!"

[Chavez] "mumble"

[Obama] "Fine!  Be that way!" [Slams phone down]

[Obama, dialing another number] "Yo, Vladdy!  Hey, I'm looking to make a deal on a tanker load of your oil so I can go golfing."

[Putin] "Tovarich, I have seen your golf swing.   I do not think a tanker of oil will help your game.  Dasvidaniya."  [click]

[Obama, increasingly mad, dials another number] "Yo, yo!  Stevie Ray!  This is Barack and Roll All Night, comin' at ya live from DC!  So, about that Keystone pipeline..."

[Prime Minister Harper] "Excuse me?"

[Obama] "I'm sorry.  I get a little caught up in the moment sometimes.  I want to discuss the Keystone pipeline."

[Harper] "No way, hoser!"

[Obama] "Seriously.  I, like, need your help"

[Harper] "Take off, eh!"  [click]

[Obama, dialing another number] "Hey Ben!  So, hate to keep rattling the cup and stuff, but I need some gas money.  Can you print me out another batch of hundreds?"

[Bernanke] "Sir, in our haste to deliver the last batch, we forgot to keep any of it for our own operating expenses.  Now our HP CurrencyJet is out of magenta ink and we don't have the money to buy more."

[Obama] "And I've already whizzed through all that money, so I can't even lend it back to you.  Dang.  Can't you put it on the card?"

[Bernanke] "No.  The kid at OfficeMax said the card was rejected and our credit was bad.  Cash-n-carry only, from now on."

[Obama, thinking about whom else he might call, when the phone rings.  Checks caller-ID] "Oh look, it's Bibi!  Since when do they have any oil?"  [answers phone] "Hey Benji, whassup?  You have any oil you can give/loan/sell me?"

[Netanyahu] "Mr. pResident, we have recoverable oil off our coastline, but we are a couple years away from full-scale production.  However, that is not the reason for my call."

[Obama] "OK, what is the reason?"

[Netanyahu] "Mr. pResident, you have treated me, my people, and my country shabbily.  Therefore, we will time our strike on Iran so that the spike in oil prices will cause you maximum electoral damage.  Just thought you'd like to know.  Toodles."  [click]

[Obama] "Dang! Dang! Dang!  I.want.to.golf!  So... I can't believe I'm about to do what I'm about to do..."


[Obama, making a phone call] "Hey, boner!  Ahem. [respectfully] I mean, hello Speaker Boehner.   Sir, I ask humbly that you and Harry get to together and break me off a little bit of gas money for the rest of the fiscal year."


[Speaker Boehner] "Mr. pResident, while your plight brings me nearly to tears, I can't help but think back to that time when you put itching powder in my skin-bronzing cream.  Therefore, sir, you may go piss into a stiff headwind and then ride the train."  [click]

[Obama] "Dang!"