We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
A Psalm of David when he was in
the wilderness of Judah. (Psalm 63)
O God, You are my God; Early will I seek You; My soul thirsts for You; My flesh longs for You In a dry and thirsty land Where there is no water. 2 So I have looked for You in the sanctuary, To see Your power and Your glory.
3 Because Your lovingkindness is better than life, My lips shall praise You. 4 Thus I will bless You while I live; I will lift up my hands in Your name. 5 My soul shall be satisfied as with marrow and fatness, And my mouth shall praise You with joyful lips.
6 When I remember You on my bed, I meditate on You in the night watches. 7 Because You have been my help, Therefore in the shadow of Your wings I will rejoice. 8 My soul follows close behind You; Your right hand upholds me.
9 But those who seek my life, to destroy it, Shall go into the lower parts of the earth. 10 They shall fall by the sword; They shall be a portion for jackals.
11 But the king shall rejoice in God; Everyone who swears by Him shall glory; But the mouth of those who speak lies shall be stopped
McGill University is one of the most elite schools in North America, and to walk through their campus is to be transported into a pastoral Chinatown. This is true of all Ivy League schools. Asian Americans have the highest education level of any racial demographic and they’re also the wealthiest.
and
Asians are overrepresented in science, medicine, law, finance, education, and virtually everything that generates wealth. They are drastically overrepresented in Nobel Prizes. These arrogant Orientals flaunt the racist moniker “model minority.”
Euroland is a joke. It's Hitler's dream, without the guns but with his Moslem friends. Or The Holy Roman Empire. The quicker the Brits get out of there, the better.
In Thomas Arnold’s day, the object was to punish bullies, and teach their victims to stand up to them. Now a defensive and enfeebled educational establishment lets the bullies get on with it, and Dalton McGuinty’s ministry has decided everyone else should be taught how to be victims — or, at any rate, members of approved victimological identity groups. Gays? Sure. Muslims? You betcha. Gay Muslims? We’ll cross that Rainbow Bridge when we get to it. For the moment, let’s stay focused: Bullying is merely the sharp end of “heterosexism,” as the Ontario “Human Rights” Commission calls it. Chief Commissar Hall defines heterosexism as “the assumption that heterosexuality is superior and preferable,” which will come as news to anyone who’s had sex with me.
My friend gives this caption: “Headwaters Chutes" at Moonlight Basin, some hiking/traversing along ridge, occasional ropes needed to hold onto. Altitude around 11500,' up above the clouds.
Just learned about it today. Ipe wood. Denser than mahogany or teak. Good for outdoor decking and furniture. It is not cheap - but neither is teak. Manufactured wood is cheaper, but not as pleasing.
I was told that you need plenty of spare drill bits to work with it, because it burns them out. Nails do not work with it at all. Nice to know that the rain forest is good for something besides parrots, tree sloths, monkeys, anacondas, and the nekked jungle indians with their blow-guns that the anthropologists need to study for their PhD theses.
One of the main reasons we care about the South American jungles is because that is where most of our songbirds live during our winter. Even just as south as Mexico, it is odd to see our summer bird friends clambering around palms in the winter.
Another one of my skiing pals sent me some pics from a trip to Big Sky last week. His iPhone pics are so cool that I think I'll post a few of them over the next few days. I've skiied around the west a little bit - Whistler-Blackcomb, Telluride. My kids have done more of that than I have. Big Sky has always been on Mrs. BD's list. She is no expert but she lacks timidity. We Yankee skiers are idiots with serious, deep powder - we love it but we can't really handle it. We're used to skiing on an ice-like material that we call "snow."
My friend's comment: Big Couloir at Big Sky, sign in with ski patrol, required to ski w partner.
For scale, that's him skiing down the couloir. An ant. Ballsy skiing in dramatic settings, around 11,000 -12,000'. I'd take that couloir on, but not without significant trepidation. A little fear and challenge is fun, right? I can ski, but can I ski?
White House Threatens Reporter Woodward: You’ll “Regret Doing This” - See more at: http://www.thegatewaypundit.com/2013/02/white-house-threatens-reporter-woodward-youll-regret-doing-this/#sthash.PiKRQqyd.dpuf
White House Threatens Reporter Woodward: You’ll “Regret Doing This” - See more at: http://www.thegatewaypundit.com/2013/02/white-house-threatens-reporter-woodward-youll-regret-doing-this/#sthash.PiKRQqyd.dpuf
What Cass Sunstein does not tell us is what sort of creatures, other than people, are going to override our mistaken decisions for us. That is the key flaw in the theory and agenda of the left.
Implicit in the wide range of efforts on the left to get government to take over more of our decisions for us is the assumption that there is some superior class of people who are either wiser or nobler than the rest of us.
Yes, we all make mistakes. But do governments not make bigger and more catastrophic mistakes?
Hey, Tom. I'd like to add the point that I am wiser and nobler than anybody in government.
Anthropology used to be a science just like any other. Today it is a stomping ground for dogmatic lesbians and socialists with no balls. How did it get all the way over there?
My Mom loved the Cape. At the funeral, my cousin Dave recalled how Mom would hand us a bucket and a clam rake at low tide, and send us out into the mud flats for Quahogs. Later, a clam-packed New England Clam Chowda for supper.
We go in and out of Sushi phases in the BD family (I like to call it "bait"), but for me, sushi is just an excuse to eat wasabi, ginger, and soy sauce, so I would never really know what the fish is. But the oily anal leakage? Happily, I have been spared that.
For all of the years that I have kept records, flocks of northbound blackbirds (generally Grackles and Redwings at first) have arrived here between Feb. 14 and Feb 16.
This year, they appeared yesterday - Feb 24. That's a record in my book.
I do not understand why more people are not worried about global cooling.
Winter with strong frosts and lots of snow like 20 years
ago will cease to exist at our latitudes,’ said scientist Mojib Latif of
the Max Planck Institute for Meteorology in Hamburg.
Explanation in 2013:
The Potsdam Institute for Climate Impact Research sees
the hard winters as being the result of global warming: Icy Arctic winds
will be triggered by it and reach all the way to Europe unhindered due
to climate change in the Arctic.
My son Nicholas is now in his early teens. He can swing a pretty mean axe, piling up the wood with steady progress. I remember well when multiple strikes of his little axe were as so many raindrops on a window. As years passed by we kept setting up a chopping station for him at a safe distance from mine. Little talk, much swinging, even if not much splitting. Then the tell-tale sound—a sort of hollow echo—of a strike that has hit home. This followed by the ripping sound of a strike that has broken through. I will never forget his looking over to see if I had heard that magical sound. Of course I had. I would not take that away from him. I would not take it away from us.
9:28 Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray.
9:29 And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.
9:30 Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him.
9:31 They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.
9:32 Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him.
9:33 Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, "Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah" -- not knowing what he said.
9:34 While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud.
9:35 Then from the cloud came a voice that said, "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!"
9:36 When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.
9:37 On the next day, when they had come down from the mountain, a great crowd met him.
9:38 Just then a man from the crowd shouted, "Teacher, I beg you to look at my son; he is my only child.
9:39 Suddenly a spirit seizes him, and all at once he shrieks. It convulses him until he foams at the mouth; it mauls him and will scarcely leave him.
9:40 I begged your disciples to cast it out, but they could not."
9:41 Jesus answered, "You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you? Bring your son here."
9:42 While he was coming, the demon dashed him to the ground in convulsions. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, healed the boy, and gave him back to his father.
9:43a And all were astounded at the greatness of God.
Gals seem to have a thing about diamonds. Must be in their blood. Large rocks are tacky. I think emeralds and rubies look great, and gold seems to have been a good investment, but diamonds are certainly flattering and are known to increase the odds of getting lucky.
Fellows, sneak out of work this morning and get her one of these outfits to show that you care:
We held my Mom's funeral today in her starkly-simple 1723 Congregational Church in Yankeeland. You'll be relieved to know that I did a pretty good job with my send-off talk to a full house - she was a popular gal who added a lot to other people's lives in many ways - barely hesitated a couple of times, and got plenty of laughs. The spontaneity of my eulogy was enhanced by the error of having lent my glasses to Mrs. BD for the hymn, and forgot to bring them to the pulpit to be able to read my notes. Perfect. A grumpy baby added a lot to the bittersweet spirit of the event. A church service without a grouchy baby is sterile - and funerals and babies just go naturally together.
I am pretty good with gentle funeral humor. I have had too much practice with such things, and I have a relaxed, casual, cheerful, and friendly attitude, once I get on a pulpit, that people seem to enjoy. I don't know where it comes from. From God, maybe. Not from me.
Happily, all of my kids were there.
The flowers were just daisies on the altar, done by Mrs. BD. Just right for my Mom who detested anything fancy, showy, or pretentious. All 5 of us kids participated, and the Pastor was truly inspiring - and brief. He intertwined Lent with death, rebirth, and planting. The howling back of my brain found some rest after the funeral, and I had a couple of glasses of wine with the luncheon, sitting with my somewhat-benumbed Dad who wined and dined with vigor, and caught up with old family friends and cousins I had not seen in years. Some old friends from youth showed up too, that I had not reconnected with for many years - and needed to.
A summer sunset at the beautiful Berkshire farm she loved so much, in her family since before the Revolution. Her ashes will join those of her ancestors there. We have a ramshackle family cemetery on the farm with a fence to keep cows or horses out of it so they don't poop on the graves:
My Mom was a gardener par excellence. One of the hymns my sisters selected was an old-timey favorite of mine, and of my Dad's. It's a love song. I call it In The Garden:
Photo: gym poster, NYC. She needs to gain a little weight. Too bony is not sexy, even in NYC. Cool shoes, though.
Mark Steyn: 
Image via Mitchell's 
Image via 
