The Canadian Alternative

After the disappointing results of the 2000 post-election period (i.e. Alec Baldwin not leaving for another country) I had learned to discount the anguished protests of those who promised to leave if the evil George Bush was re-elected.

Well, it appears that I'm to be dumbfounded: Apparently, people are kind of taking it seriously, for once. According to CNN, Canadian immigration lawyer Rudi Kischer has set up canadianalternative.com as a way for disaffected liberals to learn about Our Neighbor to the North.

The entire article's worth reading, whether for rage or mirth, so head on over and check it out. To whet one's appetite, a brief recall of and commentary upon an excerpt:

Reasons to move to Canada, as cited by www.canadianalternative.com:

1. Canada has universal public health care.

Yes, but you're living longer in Canada. Who would want to do that?

2. Canada has no troops in Iraq.

Canada barely has any troops in Canada, much anywhere else that Kofi Annan hasn't ordered them to. This is meaningful how?

3. Canada signed the Kyoto Protocol environmental treaty.

Enjoy Third World economies with First World prices! Meanwhile, watch your manufacturing base high-tail it to the People's Republic of China. That is, if Canada had any manufacturing base other than Labatt's or Molson.

4. More than half of Canada's provinces allow same-sex marriage.

And I bet we've got designs on the ones that don't, so you'd best hurry up there.

5. The Canadian Senate recommends legalizing marijuana.

Peh. Cheech & Chong shouldn't be allowed to replace Bob & Doug.

6. Canada has no law restricting abortion.

Terminate all you want! I'm sure the hedonists will make more.

7. Canada has strict gun laws and relatively little violence.

And thus no protection from Trudeaupian government when HRH Pierre decides to send the troops into the streets to enforce the general will of the people, as divined---no pun intended---by him.

8. The United Nations has ranked Canada the best country to live in for eight consecutive years.

Considering that the UN lets genocide in Rwanda, child prostitution in Asia, and lots of other things slide, do you really want to trumpet their evaluation?

9. Canada abolished the death penalty in 1976.

Yes friends, no ultimate responsibility for violent crime! Step right up and get your cushy life sentence for mass murder and bizarre criminal activity!

10. Canada has not run a federal deficit since 1996-97.

And hasn't had a serious blue water navy since the 1950s. For a two-ocean modern state, this is unforgivable.

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Proceed On Your Way To Oblivion

This publication notes, without sorrow, the death of Palestinian leader Yassir Arafat.

If I were the drinking sort, I would drink a toast to the people who, thanks to Arafat's policies of terror, never got the chance to die peacefully in bed surrounded by family. Since his death in a foreign hospital bed was the best possible scenario for his eventual departure and succession, perhaps now a permanent resolution to the Palestinian question may be undertaken.

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Where Were You When You Found Out?

I was sitting in front of my television, playing Jet Grind Radio for the Dreamcast (or P.N. 03 for the Gamecube) when a friend called me and told me to turn on the news, that there was information about President Reagan.

I told him I'd heard the whole "condition worsening" bit from the people at National Review earlier on, but he repeated himself, noting that it wasn't anything to do with a "worsening" condition. I flipped over to CNN and found out that a man was dead. It wasn't surprising, given the cowardly disease that struck him down. It is, however, regrettable; the death of a President is an unfortunate thing.

I'm old enough to have remembered Reagan vaguely. I was alive through his entire administration, and I remember watching the hearings in regards to our policies vis-a-vis Iran and the Nicaraguan resistance fighters. (Yes, I could say 'Hasenfus' while in elementary school.)

I'd recently been amused by the positive references to him in Tom Clancy's Red Rabbit, and oddly enough, watched a rebroadcast of his D-Day speech on MSNBC or one of the similar channels.

However, I don't have some grand Peter Robinson-esque story of how President Reagan changed my life. As far as I know, he never came to my corner of the Commonwealth, and that's OK. This'll be closed by three of my more favorite quips from the man:

"We have some hippies out there in the Haight-Ashbury district in San Francisco. One of them the other day was givin' some advice to his companions; he says, 'You know, your parents take care of you until you're 21; the government takes care of you after you're 65. You've only got 44 lousy years you've gotta look out for yourself.' This fellow that was doing the talking had a haircut like Tarzan, he walked like Jane, and smelled like Cheetah."

"My fellow Americans, I'm pleased to tell you today that I've signed legislation that will outlaw Russia forever; we begin bombing in five minutes."

"Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!"

Rest in peace, Mr. President.

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OK Boys and Girls, It's a Boycott

Here's the deal: Ted Rall is a cartoonist/columnist who I've occasionally read.¹ I freely admit to laughing at "CHICKEN HAWK DOWN". Nevertheless, Ted's gone and done something dumb:

I didn't know the late Pat Tillman. I barely remembered the story of a guy ditching the NFL for the military, and I at first didn't understand the significance of his death. With that being said, I would vehemently disagree with him being dubbed an "idiot". I'd prefer to designate a man who walks away from athletic millions as a moral exemplar, the Starship Troopers version of a citizen. In short, I'd tip my hat to his memory.

Mr. Rall did not, however, see fit to leave himself at that. He has written a column that goes a wee bit further, in response to the allegations of misconduct by American forces in an Iraqi-based prison. In his column, he makes the following points:

Now it's official: American troops occupying Iraq (news - web sites) have become virtually indistinguishable from the SS. Like the Germans during World War II, they cordon off and bomb civilian villages to retaliate for guerilla attacks on their convoys.

Hrrm. L. Paul Bremer hardly seems to be the American equivalent of Reinhard Heydrich, and I have a hard time seeing Himmler in the face of John Ashcroft. (There are, however, large political groups that can't see this difference.) I've written about the National Socialist destruction of villages before, and since I know a little bit about it, I don't see Fallujah as equal to Lidice. After all, Fallujah still stands.

[The prison where these events are alleged to have occurred] Abu Ghraib, you can bet your bottom dollar, is merely the tip of the iceberg. Our military is structurally corrupt. Beginning in Afghanistan during the weeks after 9/11, civilian command yielded to the amoral gangster mentality of the arrogant intelligence officers of Army Special Forces and the CIA, who stand accused of massacring thousands of captured Taliban prisoners yet have never faced a real investigation.

I've never really known anyone from Special Forces etc., but I doubt that they possess an "amoral ganster mentality". If they're arrogant, it's probably justified; in any event, the campaign in Afghanistan taught us a few things about the tenacity and irregular fighting ability of the Taliban. And then we annihilated them. As for massacring "thousands" of captured Taliban prisoners, ask me if I care. Again, Valentin Zhukovsky: "They were ruthless people. They got what they deserved." I for one am neither eager nor interested to get to the bottom of rumors about supposed slaughters of "surrendered" Taliban combatants. Besides, they seem to fight quite well while in captivity; ask the family of J.M. Spann and others present at the prison around Mazar-e-Sharif in Afghanistan.

I am, to say the least, disgusted by the comparison of our troops with the odious records of the Waffen-SS and the regular SS units. Mr. Rall, you are worthy of contempt; yours is an immature and unfounded position. I didn't think I'd ever get to use the moveon.org stamp again, but here goes: You're not worthy of sitting at the national table and having a discussion with the adults about how things will be. Sorry. Take a seat with Howard Dean and International ANSWER.

Towards the idea of trying some non-violent retaliation against Mr. Rall, the Evangelical Outpost has a plan. The suggestion is this: Boycott any and all publications running UExpress material, if possible.

At this point in time, I don't have a list of those publications. The only one that's come up is Men's Health, which I don't read and haven't ever bought or subscribed to.

I won't even bother with the disclaimer that "freedom of speech" lets him say whatever. Mr. Rall can take comfort in the fact that tarring and feathering, or the literal riding out of town on a rail have both fallen into disuse in the last fifty years or so.

Mr. Rall, you sicken me. more...

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Military Appreciation Month

This, from the Bull Moose Republicans:

May is National Military Appreciation Month. The Bull Moose Republicans would like to acknowledge all veterans and current members of the military, and thank them for their service to our country.

A bit of the purpose behind the event:

Our military has played a major role in the development of our country chronicled through their unbending honor, their dedication to duty and their love of country. Because most holidays commemorating historical military events have become little more than three-day weekends lacking focus on their original purpose, a vehicle is needed with form and structure to promote this month-long May observance.

For more information, visit National Military Appreciation Month.

The Country Pundit would like to issue a thanks to all men and women who have served their nation in uniform from 1775 to 2004, and beyond. I am grateful for your service, and thankful for your willingness to go forth into harm's way in defense of American freedom.

Tip of the Wisconsin hat to Bull Moose Republicans.

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Word for the Day

Grim's Hall is like a box of chocolates. No, I don't mean a cheap, thoughtless, perfunctory gift that nobody ever asks for, unlike what my favorite character from The X-Files used to think, but more that you never know what you're going to get.

Today, Grim gives us a new word, one that I've got to use more often: Mufsidoon. Here's why:

This is the Arabic for "evildoer," and can be prefixed by "Saddam's" or "Osama's" as appropriate.

The idea is that Mujahedeen and Mahdi Army (Army of the Messiah) cast the enemy as soldiers of God. That makes Coalition forces the opponents of God, soldiers of the devil. Mufsidoon more correctly identifies them, and therefore, our forces likewise.

This may wind up being a new take on that whole "one man's mufsidoon is another man's mujahedeen" thing, but hey, who cares? It's an insult to these guys in their language, using their culture, and I'll be happy to use it. So what if it digs a little deep? As Khan Noonien Singh growled nigh on 22 years ago, "So much the better..."

Thanks a lot, Grim!

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The Nationalist Country Pundit

Daniel Pipes has an article drawing from the latest work of Samuel P. Huntington, Who Are We : The Challenges to America's National Identity. In his article, Pipes says that there are three basic lenses through which an American will see their home and the world:

Cosmopolitan: America ?welcomes the world, its ideas, its goods, and, most importantly, its people.? In this vision, the country strives to become multiethnic, multiracial, and multicultural. The United Nations and other international organizations increasingly influence American life. Diversity is an end in itself; national identity declines in importance. In brief, the world reshapes America.

Imperial: America reshapes the world. This impulse is fueled by a belief in ?the supremacy of American power and the universality of American values.? America?s unique military, economic, and cultural might bestows on it the responsibility to confront evil and to order the world. Other peoples are assumed basically to share the same values as Americans; Americans should help them attain those values. America is less a nation than ?the dominant component of a supranational empire.?

National: ?America is different? and its people recognize and accept what distinguishes them from others. That difference results in large part from the country?s religious commitment and its Anglo-Protestant culture. The nationalist outlook preserves and enhances those qualities that have defined America from its inception. As for people who are not white Anglo-Saxon Protestants, they ?become Americans by adopting its Anglo-Protestant culture and political values.?

Mr. Pipes notes also that, "The left tends to the cosmopolitan vision; the right divides among imperialists and nationalists." He states that he wavers between the "imperialist" and "nationalist" modes, because he sometimes "want[s] the United States to export its humane political message and at other times [is] fearful that such efforts, however desirable, will overextend the American reach and end in disaster." (At the same time, Pipes notes that Huntington is strongly nationalist.) For what it's worth, the esteemable Rev. Donald Sensing considers himself to be one of the bilateralists, like Pipes.

This has bearing on peoples' opinions towards the Iraqi situation as well. more...

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Uh, How's That Again?

I was reading Jeffrey A. Dvorkin's installment of his column as the NPR ombudsman. It's billed as a 'web exclusive' and focuses solely upon the soon-to-be-history Bob Edwards. Edwards, who's hosted Morning Edition since 1979, was recently given the boot by NPR management. Reasons vary on this, but the truth of it seems to be that a) Joan Kroc's $200 million gift makes men bold and b) the "new" management wants to appeal to different audiences. I'm amused at the ability of professional liberals to get a good thing from hard work and then blow it away.

Back to Dvorkin's piece. In it, he quotes a man named Peter Bye who says that, "I certainly understand a need for diversity and excellence. After all, my business is in the field of diversity and inclusion."

I'm curious: What is a business in the field of diversity and inclusion? Is it a fancy way to say that you're a temp agency?

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Sic Semper Sullivan

I've been highly suspicious of Andrew Sullivan since I first ran across him some time around the turn of the century. He was occasionally a good read---I'd never thought of myself as a "theocon" until reading his broad-brush efforts---but his positions taken post-11 September had gotten me to the point of giving him the C. Montgomery Burns sideways-glance-through-narrowed-eyes that CMB issued to Waylon Smithers once after an uncomfortable question.

Recently, because someone's had the nerve to think that maybe homosexuals shouldn't be able to force the state to grant them some benefits, Sullivan's gone off the deep end, ranting and raving about the evil religious right, sneering and heaping scorn whenever he gets the opportunity. Yes, it got old after about one week, and I quit reading him. Whoopy frickin' doo, to paraphrase Private W. Hudson, USCM.

Anyways, I was kicking around The Evangelical Outpost and got directed to fraters libertas, which put a few torpedoes (Sorry. Unacceptable innuendo, say the guys at Standards & Practices. --Ed.) into ol' Andy.

I've been uncomfortable with him being lumped into the "right" at all, because of his rather self-centered views on human sexuality and his religious viewpoints. These guys, instead of grumbling, decided to read the riot act to Sullivan. A key quip:

So Sullivan is gone from the political right, perhaps revealing that despite his September eloquence of three years ago, he never really evolved in his political philosophy at all.

Enh.

Tip of the Wisconsin hat to Evangelical Outpost.

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Oh, for Crying Out Loud

First the annoying Gavin Newsom and his followers, and now this.

I've got nothing to say other than, "Rick Santorum was right." There are days when the country's civilization just can't win.

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The Benjamin Martin Scenario

This post stems from a response I was concocting to the Interested-Participant's comment in regards to my post on the death of Fabrizio Quattrocchi. I asked, "Good God, when does it end?" The IP wrote: "I'll answer your question. It will end when all of the enemy are dead or pacified. But, you knew that already."

Reading about scenes like this, and the thing in Fallujah, sorely tests one's civilized character, I think. There are times when you simply want to lay the mantle of civilization down, and wreak havoc on your opponents.

The illustration that occurred to me was that of Benjamin Martin in Mel Gibson's "The Patriot". I would like to think of "the West" in general as Mr. Martin, elegant coat, stockings, refinement, and all that. He doesn't want to wage terrible, awful war because he's seen the elephant. Western civilization has seen the elephant, especially in the twentieth century. We are tired of war, and many long for respite. The Europeans, having suffered two terrible wars on their continent inside a quarter-century, have largely lost their appetite for conflict. Given their losses, I can almost understand it.¹ When people from Europe made war, we didn't mess around.

Benjamin Martin had done awful things in war, and he wanted to put it behind him. In fact, he tried very hard to do so. He argued against the notion of fighting the British, because he so hated war. At this time, the West as a whole is Mr. Martin, arguing with Colonel Burwell in polite company over the proper course of action. There are some (be they the United States and the United Kingdom in the present day or men such as John Adams or Colonel Burwell in the film) who have chosen to fight, and there are some who have not made up their minds (Mr. Martin at that point in the film and much of Europe itself today) about what to do.

Let me pause the metaphor at this point, and look at things from the position of the Islamist. Let us assume for a second that Western Civilization is the very devil and that the Islamist is pursuing said devil with all his might. Let me offer a warning from history:

ROPER: So now you'd give the Devil benefit of law!

MORE: Yes. What would you do? Cut a great road through the law to get after the Devil?

ROPER: I'd cut down every law in England to do that!

MORE: Oh? And when the last law was down, and the Devil turned round on you - where would you hide, Roper, the laws all being flat? This country's planted thick with laws from coast to coast - man's laws, not God's - and if you cut them down - and you're just the man to do it - d'you really think you could stand upright in the winds that would blow then? Yes, I'd give the Devil benefit of law, for my own safety's sake.

more...

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Tartan Day

The Country Pundit, being of English background by way of Pennsylvania some time between the 1760s and the 1890s, doesn't generally fit in where Scottish heritage issues are raised.¹ With that being said, I'm also generally supportive of "British Isles" heritage celebration, due to my Angophilic interests and for some ill-defined reason that probably runs deep into post-graduate explorations of culture and society, none of which I'm willing to do.

Nevertheless, I present something called "Tartan Day", sponsored by a gal named Ith over at Absinthe & Cookies. The significance of this is as follows, borrowed from I Love Jet Noise:

Why Tartan Day? On April 6th, 1320, the Declaration of Arbroath was drawn up at Arbroath Abbey, declaring Scottish independence from England.

OK, so the Scottish were ungrateful. Go to all that trouble to exploit them going and coming, and they have the cheek to go and declare independence. Well, you'll note that William Wallace gets it in the end! Snide Derbyshire-ian remark aside, this is a neat little thing, and I'm happy to publicize. (Bob in legal says we can't use that; it would suggest that we've actually got readers. --Ed.)

Oddly enough, I have in recent years had a fair affinity for "Highlands" culture, be it Irish-Celtic or Scottish in origin; a bagpiper's always a good way to get my favorable attention, and I've always enjoyed a Celtic festival or two in terms of music. What's creepy is that it just happened. Perhaps my ancestors predicted the trans-Atlantic flight patterns of the 1940s and 1950s in reverse, stopping off in Shannon before heading to the New World.

So with that, Happy Tartan Day.

Now Playing: The overture from Elizabeth. I swear I didn't pick that on purpose; it was a random selection by me out of my carefully hoarded folder of home-made MP3s. However, you've got to admit that it's an amusing coincidence, considering the issue of Scotland and Mary Stewart comes up during the movie.

¹ I did however figure out that my ancestors et cetera were from the county of Yorkshire. This is appropriate, if creepy, on three levels: Yorkshire was important to Richard of Gloucester, who reigned as King Richard III. I'm actually kind of fond of old Richard, having sunk money into the McKellen movie of the same name and at least two books on the guy. Secondly, Yorkshire is the home of John and Charles Wesley, the two men most famous for founding what is today's United Methodist Church. Thirdly, Yorkshire has the Settle-Carlisle line of the old Midland Railway, which is represented in Microsoft's Train Simulator, and which I occasionally play at driving upon. Richard III, religion, and railroads-if I could raise an eyebrow, I would. Curiouser and curiouser.

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Brother, Can You Spare $50,000?

I was bouncing around the blogosphere recently, when I found Quent Cordair Fine Art, by way of Cox & Forkum.¹

Now, I'm a relatively simple guy, and my tastes in art are pedestrian. That means that I don't dig a crucifix in a Mason jar full of urine, and Robert Mapplethorpe leaves me cold. (Or grumbling about a waste of good film.) Most modern art doesn't do much for me, and I daresay that most of the non-realist art of the 20th century falls flat where I am concerned. A lot of modern art seems to be an exercise in hoo-hah, wherein a fast-talking artist suckers some city slicker out of several thou by throwing around buzzwords that sound in vogue or something.

Conversely, I like things like Rembrandt's Night Watch, and I was very fond of the artwork of Michelangelo that I saw when I was at the Sistine Chapel. In other words, old & realistic=good. After visiting QCFA's website, I realized that I'd found something else to add to the mix, namely the notion of "Romantic Realism". In QCFA's own words:

Romantic Realism, the movement which renews the high esthetic standards and techniques of pre-20th century ateliers, brings a rebirth of comprehensibility, beauty, romanticism and stylization to contemporary subject matter. The gallery's collection emphasizes themes which celebrate the moments of happiness, joy and success possible to Man on earth.

Some examination has revealed that Randroids² are fond of this style for some reason---which boggles the mind---but yet I'll not let that get in the way of enjoying the works of one Bryan Larsen.

Mr. Larsen has two works that I wish I had the money for, and since I'll never have the money in time to buy the things, I figured that I'd make a brief note of them here. My evaluation is monstrously unsophisticated---dare I say that it lacks nuance?---and falls down to something on the order of "It's cool", but I thought I'd give it a shot. Pictures and the very brief remarks are in the extended entry. more...

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Diversity Wastes Digital Resources

I generally don't read a lot of the e-mail that gets sent my way through the University's mass-distribution lists. It's either not targeted at me, or I simply don't care.

However, a recent message came through the servers exhorting us to "recognize the importance of diversity and cultural awareness", and it's irritated me. If you're a tolerance weenie, go elsewhere. I'm ill-rested and in a foul mood, so here goes. I have reproduced certain sections of the message, which was garbled in some part due to a MIME or HTML-mail error.

This website shows 101 ways to increase your tolerance and promote equity and diversity. [The first sixteen were reprinted in the message.]

The original suggestions are in italics; my commentary is in ordinary Roman-Arial type.

1. Attend a play, listen to music or go to a dance performance by artists whose race or ethnicity is different from your own.

Dance performance? I don't like to watch white people dancing; what makes you think that I'll enjoy anyone else doing it? Gah, no.

2. Volunteer at a local social services organization.

That sounds more like a Christian thing to do---oh wait, Christians are intolerant anti-Semitic bigots unless they kiss up to Islamics and the like. Tsk tsk...

3. Attend services at a variety of churches, synagogues, mosques and temples to learn about different faiths.

Ahem. One isn't often welcome in faiths where you're not a member. I doubt any Jews would be happy to see me in their synagogue, because I'm distinctively not one of them. The next time I set foot in a mosque---been to one in D.C.---will be when I close it down for terrorist activity. I doubt they'd want to see a Western infidel (and proud of it!) darkening their doorsteps and soiling their sacred ground.

4. Visit a local senior citizens center and collect oral histories. Donate large-print reading materials and books on tape. Offer to help with a craft project.

Visiting rest homes can be downright scary. I went to one to see my grandmother recently, and it sounded like I was in some sort of Dickensian mental ward. I don't deal well with blank stares from physical and/or mental wrecks who've been abandoned by their irresponsible families.

That being said, when I was in college, the local College Republicans went to a rest home and did nice Easter things for people, like making Easter bunnies out of household materials. I don't remember any of the campus Democrats going along, though. Once again, Democrats talk about a problem; Republicans do something about it.

Exactly how does an oral history, although inherently worthy in its own right, increase tolerance or diversity? History itself is probably above such petty political goals.

5. Shop at ethnic grocery stores and specialty markets. Get to know the owners. Ask about their family histories.

Actually, I already do this. I'm very fond of shopping at stores which serve my interests. Considering my English-American heritage, that's getting pretty 'ethnic' and 'specialty' at the same time. The owners? They're too busy making money and managing a network of stores to waste time trading family history with a customer who doesn't own a distributing company. Rubbish!

6. Participate in a diversity program.

I have already participated in diversity programs. They're referred to as undergraduate admissions. I didn't like them at all. On the other hand, if I could learn how to angle my family history and whatnot to take advantage of these programs (the ultimate sabotage!) I could probably live with them:

Me: "Yes, I'm the son of immigrants."
Admissions Officer: "Fantastic! You qualify for a full ride and nubile co-eds on the weekends. If you don't mind my asking, when did your family arrive?"
Me: "The '60s."
AO: "That was such an awful time."
Me: "Yeah, I bet my family wasn't big on the war either. But, we got our first look at a man who would be President during that war."
AO: "You're referring to Senator Kerry, of course! This is so wonderful..."
Me: "Er, in truth, I was referring to George Washington. Bloody French and Indian War."
AO: "I thought you said your family arrived here in the '60s."
Me: "They did. Oh, you were thinking of the 1960s. Sorry about that"

7. Ask a person of another cultural heritage to teach you how to perform a traditional dance or cook a traditional meal.

Charlie don't surf and the Country Pundit doesn't dance, unless it's that Celtic stuff he saw at a festival once, which seemed pretty simple. I don't do foreign food, either.

8. Learn sign language.

This teaches tolerance how? Unless I'm trying to pick up Marlee Matlin, I doubt I'd have any use for it. If I've got something to say to a deaf man, I'll write it out so as not to waste his time.

9. Take a conversation course in another language that is spoken in your community.

Luckily, I can just watch re-runs of Hee-Haw in order to understand the other languages spoken in my community. Thank God for that! (Admittedly, folks from south of the American border are starting to crop up in my hometown, so this might actually be something to do in order to have a wider business clientele.)

10. Teach an adult to read.

How this teaches respect for diversity and tolerance is beyond me. Although adult literacy is a worthy goal, I would suggest that teaching them to read as a method of 'tolerance' is counter-intuitive. Isn't it intolerant to go and say, "Look you, you can't read and I won't stand for it. Change now!" Of course, if you're like me and have no time for this tolerance crap, you'd support adult literacy as a way to help make a man (or a woman) a self-sufficient member of the society and therefore pull his or her weight.

11. Speak up when you hear slurs. Let people know that bias speech is always unacceptable.

Yeah, that's real tolerant. "I won't stand for the way you talk! It's unacceptable!" I thought the point of this message was teaching tolerance and acceptance. Oops, must've missed the definitions memo or something.

12. Imagine what your life might be like if you were a person of another race, gender or sexual orientation. How might "today" have been different?

Just to be snide, I'll throw this out there: There's only one race, the human race. Anything else is a false socio-political construct, used most recently by craven individuals to justify one ridiculous program or another. Had I been a woman today, I'd probably be just like I am now---a somewhat jaded and cynical type who doesn't have a lot of time for pop culture pretties that get by on looks and glitz. I'd also be able to file sexual harrassment charges, which would be pretty cool.

If I were of a different sexual orientation, I'd have it pretty good here in America for the time being. The news media and many cultural elites in this country would do their best to worship me and hold me up as the ultimate in humanistic development. I'd be able to scream "INTOLERANT!" at anyone who disagreed with me on anything.

Alas, I'll just have to muck through life as a normal man. Darn.

13. Take the How Tolerant are You? A Test of Hidden Bias[citation omitted]. Enlist some friends to take this "hidden bias" test with you and discuss the results.

Took it, flunked it, laughed about it. Forgot about it.

14. Take a Civil Rights history vacation. Tour key sites and museums.

I've actually done this. I've been to key points of our history in Boston, been to Fort Sumter, visited a gun show (more on this later) and I've been to see various military museums, along with Richmond and Washington, D.C. Thoroughly recommended!

15. Research your family history. Share information about your heritage in talks with others.

I'm really certain that anyone else cares about the history of my family. If they want to know, they'll ask.

16. List all the stereotypes you can — positive and negative — about a particular group. Are these stereotypes reflected in your actions?

Mine eyes glaze over...

If you're still reading this, go watch The Barbershop and feel good.

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Bah, Humbug!

Bah! Down with Valentine's Day and all this hearts-and-flowers rubbish. That is all.

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Super Bowl Hmm?

Yay Patriots.

This marks year three (or more) of me ignoring the Super Bowl. Call me crazy, but I just don't care. (If this keeps up, we're going to have to license that Michelle Branch song. --Ed.)

Posted by: Country Pundit at 11:39 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Happy Birthday, Professor!

On this date in 1892, a man named John was born in Bloemfontein, South Africa. He would later go on to fight in the Great War and became an academic, with some note coming to him for his work in philology. He also liked to write books on the side.

Why do we care?

His name was John Ronald Reuel Tolkein.

Happy 112th, Professor. Thank you for your work.

Posted by: Country Pundit at 04:03 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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The Hunt for Hallmark Ornaments

So it's December 26, 2003.

Earlier today, I went to the local Hallmark shop in order to pick up some ornaments that had been deemed desirable but not at full price. It's regional policy of the Hallmark stores around here to cut prices on their Christmas ornaments by 50% in the day or so after 25 December, and I was going to take advantage of that.

This is what you call a cost control measure, despite the fact that Mom's winter purchases from Hallmark has to underwrite their fourth-quarter profits at some level. I have yet to figure out how to get Hallmark's board of directors to cut us in on the action in terms of dividends. I haven't looked, but they're reportedly a privately-held company, so buying stock or asking for options thereupon doesn't seem to be an option.

To get to where I'm going, here's an observation: You take your own life into your hands when you go to one of these sales and stand between women and bargains. I'm there trying to find a Bugs Bunny in a metal plane from the 1920s. These women are there to get their fourth and fifth example of Super-Duper Snowflake Barbie and so forth. These women are vicious. They take no prisoners and elbows can fly. About the only thing I can liken it to is the floor of the New York Stock Exchange. Names of ornaments are called out and occasionally they're handed back. I usually do some of this, because I've got longer arms than the average participant in this melee, and because I've got a nice pair of sharp elbows. As awful as that sounds, these things are useful when dealing with the enraged horde of Hallmark shoppers.

Anyways, after about two hours of work, we managed to procure all but three of the ornaments desired. A quick tour around the other area stores delivered that which we were looking for, and so our ornament quest for 2003 is over.

Mr. Chairman of the Board, Mr. President of the United States, you're welcome for our stimulus of the national economy. I'll be expecting my dividend check in the mail.

Posted by: Country Pundit at 11:02 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Come See What Santa Brought!

Hooray. Although I had previously bought myself the best Christmas present I got this year (i.e. the complete first season of Battlestar Galactica) I did manage to get several things of note:

-The Adventures of Indiana Jones, widescreen edition. Woo hoo. Marian Ravenwood and Elsa Schneider, archeological babes of note. Unfortunately, either the sound mix on Raiders of the Lost Ark is bad or the settings on the family home theater system are bungled, because I can't hear the dialogue all that well.

-Jane's Battleships of the 20th Century by Bernard Ireland and illustrated by Tony Gibbons. This book, although a little on the slim side, is splendid for a quick-reference book on the subject. It's also got short essays on other battleship-related topics, like the loss of Repulse and Prince of Wales to Imperial Japanese aircraft three days after the successful IJN strike against Pearl Harbor. It's also got a color illustration of what a Montana-class battleship would have looked like had we ever finished one. Heh heh heh, these things just scream evil.

-Iowa Class Battleships - Their Design, Weapons & Equipment by Robert F. Sumrall. This is an older book, published by the United States Naval Institute in 1988. I've got the British edition of the book, printed by Conway Maritime Press, which adds to the cool of this tome. It's more than I ever wanted to know about the mighty Iowa-class battleships, and is a splendid reference for these last battlewagons for America's navy.

As you can see, I'm kind of fond of battleships. Suffice it to say that when I stand on the decks of USS North Carolina or USS Wisconsin, I'm prone to getting a big grin on my face as I wander these monsters from out of time. It's almost creepy seeing them, because nothing we've built since then carries the same visual menace as a battleship. John Lehman understood that, which is one reason we brought them back in the 1980s. The Soviet Union understood visual menace, and thus built the hulking Kirov-class atomic-powered missile-armed battlecruisers. Sure, aircraft carriers are wickedly destructive in their own right, but nothing says "Reach out and annihilate someone" like a shower of 16" shells being fired from 20 miles away. Heh heh heh. You can't look at a picture of an Iowa broadside without getting the big Calvin grin on your face.

Anyways, the relatives are over, so I'll hush now and get back to them.

Posted by: Country Pundit at 02:36 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Christmas Eve, Sort Of

Hrrm. Like everything else since I've gotten home from school, this is posted many days out of sequence. The entire Christmas season post-exams has been a blur.

Anyways, I had a nifty rah-rah Christmas message all composed and then I lost it in a browser crash. So therefore, a reconstructed, pared down message:

Merry Christmas. Peace on Earth, good will to men. To our folks overseas, I want y'all home as soon as possible. Be careful out there, as that sergeant on Hill Street Blues used to say.

Now, for something that (hopefully some will interpret positively: I went to my church's Christmas Eve candlelight service and got shanghaied into performing as a communion steward. I hate doing it, because you have to repeat a single phrase (in my case, "The body of Christ, broken for you") over and over, and because you've got to do everything right for each man, woman, and child who comes in front of you. Moreover, I had to work with bread. For reasons of sanitary concern, we wear these gloves, but my hands were too big for the things, and so I basically got to pluck chunks of bread out with these gloves on. The downside of that was that I had a pair of semi-rigid tongs since I couldn't move my fingers, so I managed to crush a lot of bread and make more of a mess than anyone else.

However, I do like, for some reason, dealing with the children whose parents bring them forward. They're usually short enough to where I've got to squat down and hand them their bread. It's a different thing than handing an anonymous adult a piece of badly-torn bread, and the kid's usually looking at you with big wide eyes. I don't know exactly how this gets through the either stoic or downright daffy persona I usually project, but it kind of warms the heart.

Enh. Now that I've done my Scrooge reformed thing for the day, time to warm up the Nike Hercules site and arm the W-31 warhead; I'm going to get that red intruder from the North if it's the last thing he ever does. That'll teach him to invade my airspace and not leave me what I asked for...

Posted by: Country Pundit at 11:12 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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