Maggie's Farm

Maggie's Farm remains a "Marauding Marsupial" in the Truth Laid Bear ecosystem. We'd love to move to the next step up to reinforce our fragile egos, but I am not certain that we deserve to. Maybe we are destined to be an elite, boutique blog for our discriminating high IQ, irony-minded six few readers, but there is a mass-market dream hidden deep inside of us.

The Wombat can be a marauding marsupial at times, but he tends to be fairly agreeable unless he feels attacked or happens to be in a grumpy mood. A charging wombat can knock over a man and tear a big hole in him. Maybe Maggie's Farm is a Wombat.

I hear a song in my head: "Wombats in the Snow," to the tune of "Strangers in the Night."

Anyway - do us a favor. Send our blog to all of your friends, relatives, colleagues and enemies. We want - and deserve, 100,000 readers per day - visitors, not hits. We have tons of "hits," and do not need more "hits" looking for Farm P*rn: we are a clean-cut blog and not one of us has ever had a mean, ugly, dirty, angry, perverted, lascivious, schadenfreudenous, illegal, adulterous, covetous, larcenous, or mean-spirited thought - ever. We are as pure as the driven snow upon which the Wombat poops in the Australian winter which, perversely, arrives in the summer. (What a mixed-up country they are, down on the bottom of the planet, where their floors are roofs and vice versa. How can they think, standing upside-down? And how come they don't fall off? Do they wear magnets in their shoes? Keep those magnets on your boots, Aussies! You are the only sane friends left in this crazy world.)

We all learned about it in High School, but we can easily forget, when we see the amazing blooms of early June, that we are looking at the personal, private, and always fascinating sex organs of angiosperm plants. They do not hide them in shame or modesty, do they? Not at all: like lovely young women, they just want to be fertilized. Details here. (Every time I label something as "Farm P*rn", we get a ton of hits from perverts around the world. I find it amusing. No doubt I add to their frustration. On the downside, it gets us blocked by the Merrill Lynch censorship system, so our Merrill friends cannot catch up with Maggie's Farm at work.)

 

Quote from Owner's Manual:

Judge not, lest ye be judged judgmental. On and on it will go, until the humble vacation postcard reads: "The scenery is beautiful, wish you were here to help me end racism."

Dance - Or else... The EU wants everyone to celebrate 50 years of the EU. They really are like the Soviets: the peasants WILL dance joyfully and in gratitude. In my opinion, the EU governing body lives on its own planet, in its own time zone, and is a legend in its own mind. Not to mention the fact that it is an Evil Empire.  Gates of V.

Is anti-Zionism anti-Semitism? Augean Stables says Yes.

Smart love, and Philippians, from Middlebrow.

Savvy judge throws out lawsuit by customer who found shells in her mussels marinara. Overlawyered. Finally, a judge who knows his shellfish.

Egypt's Sandmonkey blogger has a small bone to pick with Nicholas Berg's father.

# 76 of Why hasn't the idea of socialism died yet? Can't they pull those tubes out, like they did with Schiavo? Alpha Patriot. How long on life-support?

For 100 years, New Jersey was a promised land for middle class New Yorkers, fleeing New York taxes and pursuing the American dream of a little cottage with a yard.

What went wrong? Now it is a state with net outflow of population and business, decaying, dangerous cities, state and property taxes which crush the middle class, routine corruption, unions which seem to have more power than both the government and the voters, and Tony Soprano.

Malanga at City Journal gives the whole history. An excellent history of The Garden State, which typifies the "blue state blues".

I rely on the guys at Junk Science, who have no axes to grind, to detect the flaws in the ways in which scientific information is presented. Here are his conclusions in an excellent piece on climate and air chemistry:

What are the take-home messages:

• The temperature effect of atmospheric carbon dioxide is logarithmic, not exponential.
• The potential planetary warming from a doubling of atmospheric carbon dioxide from pre-Industrial Revolution levels of ~280ppmv to 560ppmv (possible some time later this century - perhaps) is generally estimated at less than 1 °C.
• The guesses of significantly larger warming are dependent on "feedback" (supplementary) mechanisms programmed into climate models. The existence of these "feedback" mechanisms is uncertain and the cumulative sign of which is unknown (they may add to warming from increased atmospheric carbon dioxide or, equally likely, might suppress it).
• The total warming since measurements have been attempted is thought to be about 0.6 degrees Centigrade. At least half of the estimated temperature increment occurred before 1950, prior to significant change in atmospheric carbon dioxide levels. Assuming the unlikely case that all the natural drivers of planetary temperature change ceased to operate at the time of measured atmospheric change then a 30% increment in atmospheric carbon dioxide caused about one-third of one degree temperature increment since and thus provides empirical support for less than one degree increment due to a doubling of atmospheric carbon dioxide.
• There is no linear relationship between atmospheric carbon dioxide change and global mean temperature or global mean temperature trend -- global mean temperature has both risen and fallen during the period atmospheric carbon dioxide has been rising.
• The natural world has tolerated greater than one-degree fluctuations in mean temperature during the relatively recent past and thus current changes are within the range of natural variation. (See, for example, ice core and sea surface temperature reconstructions.)
• Other anthropogenic effects are vastly more important, at least on local and regional scales.
• Fixation on atmospheric carbon dioxide is a distraction from these more important anthropogenic effects.
• Despite attempts to label atmospheric carbon dioxide a "pollutant" it is, in fact, an essential trace gas, the increasing abundance of which is a bonus for the bulk of the biosphere.
• There is no reason to believe that slightly lower temperatures are somehow preferable to slightly higher temperatures - there is no known "optimal" nor any known means of knowingly and predictably adjusting some sort of planetary thermostat.
• Fluctuations in atmospheric carbon dioxide are of little relevance in the short to medium term (although should levels fall too low it could prove problematic in the longer-term).
• Activists and zealots constantly shrilling over atmospheric carbon dioxide are misdirecting attention and effort from real and potentially addressable local, regional and planetary problems.

Read the whole thing: link above.

Just a few notes and links. First, at the press conference it was observed that the Iraqi press cheered and clapped and the American press were silent.

Second, Dr Sanity looks at the "reality-based" reaction to the news: they are clearly not pleased.

Third, Nicholas Berg's dad is "sad" Zarquawi had to die. Blames Bush for the beheading of his son. Glad that isn't my Dad.

Fourth, a statement by Al Quaida:

"We want to give you the joyous news of the martyrdom of the mujahed sheik Abu Musab al-Zarqawi," said the statement, signed by "Abu Abdel- Rahman al-Iraqi," identified as the deputy "emir" or leader of al- Qaida in Iraq.

Hmmm. For once, I see things the same way as them.

And finally, as some good blogger noted (I forget who), no words of sadness yet from Michael Moore on the loss of another heroic Minuteman.

A plane was taking off from Kennedy Airport. After it reached a
comfortable cruising altitude, the captain made an announcement over
the intercom, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.
Welcome to Flight Number 293, nonstop from New York to Los Angeles.
The weather ahead is good and, therefore, we should have a smooth and
uneventful flight. Now sit back and relax... OH, MY GOD!" Silence
followed, and after a few minutes, the captain came back on the
intercom and said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am so sorry if I scared
you earlier. While I was talking to you, the flight attendant accidentally
spilled a cup of hot coffee in my lap. You should see the front of my
pants!" A passenger in Coach yelled, "That's nothing. You should see
the back of mine!"

He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire.

Winston Churchill

Some luck lies in not getting what you thought you wanted.

Robert Frost

Grumpy and growly, the Chesapeake Bay Retriever was made for
busting through ice all day, retrieving ducks
and geese in frigid salt water. From their eagerness to handle big water, they must have some fish genes, and they are as tough, rugged, and strong-chested as sporting dogs get.

Powerful, often cantankerous, and protective of their master to a fault (they are known as "one-man dogs"), most of the ones I have known do not take kindly to strangers and need tons of daily exercise - preferably in the water. They love to retrieve heavy logs from heavy surf, preferably with ice in it. I think of them as professional hunting dogs more than as house dogs, but I have heard that some of them can be the latter, especially if female. But they are not really family dogs (I know I may get some flak for uttering this fact, but these are dogs for crusty old baymen, from the era of market hunting). Breed info here at AKC.

Despite the similarity in appearance, the Chessie is a very distant cousin of the Lab, via their common Newfoundland blood, as is clear from the differences in personality. (The Newfie, while a work breed and not a sporting breed, might be my favorite breed in all of dogdom. But they are tough to train, which we humans, in our anthropocentric way, term "stupid." Loveable, cuddly, loving and protective - but big and dumb, and they need about 500 acres for exercise.)

If a Dem were in office, and going to war against Jihad, he would be called the "Franklin Roosevelt" of our generation.

Dr. Bliss, of Maggie's Farm

As our readers know, we ain't got no truck with multiculturalism. We believe that Western, Judeo-Christian, small "L" liberal democratic societies offer the greatest chance for human dignity and freedom, to date, in the history of the world. We hate anything that interferes with those things.

Rick at RWNH says here exactly what we believe at Maggie's - except he says it better. A quote from his piece on the arrest of Moslem terrorists in Canada over the weekend:

If we are fortunate enough to survive listening to some of the better angels of our nature that demand obeisance to an ideology of moral relativism, it will be because there will always be enough of us who refuse to play the diversity games so beloved of that segment of our population that sees strength in dividing us. The game has one simple rule; all societies, and by extension, all religions, creeds, races, ethnicities, and cultures are, at bottom, equal. It would be one thing to believe all were equally bad. That, at least, would represent the cynics view of mankind and hence, a realistic appraisal of the capability for evil in our fellow man.

But no. This multi-cultural madness posits the notion that we are all equally good (well, except white, Anglo-Saxon, Christian males), and that evil is a social construct manufactured by the ruling class to keep the black, brown, and yellow man in their place. If allowed to succeed, the people who are teaching this view to our children in schools and creating mass cultural touchstones in film and television that push this concept will create the perfectly diverse society – the multi-cultural Nirvana found in the grave where everyone will be finally and completely equal.

Image, etc: Who says "dignity never been photographed"? Photo by The Dylanologist. We have the extremely rare piano version of Dylan's Dignity here: dignitypianoversion.mp3 - quick download.

I have never in my life envied a human being who led an easy life; I have envied a great many people who led difficult lives and led them well.

Theodore Roosevelt

(Editor's Note: My error - this piece is out of sequence. If you want to know what this is all about, click the Aliyah Diary category in upper left. We will catch up with his bike trek though the Negev with his next post.)

Apr 5 06: Back among the Persimmons

    
    It is pleasant beneath the Persimmon leaves and the early green
furled buds that to my eye look like leaves, but instead are the ova
fertilized and becoming embryonic beneath the sun.
    After two weeks abroad, I am back in the Kibbutz orchards.
    Moshek always greets me with a broad smile, his bony-muscular grip.
His ancient, cracked leather belt barely holds up sagging work
trousers. I load my bike into the back and we are off. But we leave
the kibbutz, travel across the road, past the train station and I
learn that we have orchards here also. The kibbutz was transected by
the Herzilya road that enters the Coast highway, or continues to the
high-tech Herzilya Pituach. "Pituach", "developing" has an ironic
meaning here, as it is usually used to describe the dusty desert towns
where immigrants were or are placed in the hope of both the
immigrants' and the land's development, with disappointing results for
both people and land. Here, "developing" refers to a narrow rim of
land abutting the sea, a rim of high-tech companies, upscale
restaurants (including a sensuously delicious chocolate restaurant),
and fabulously expensive Rattan furniture boutiques.
    But, no mind, I am in the fields, hear the trains starting up like
oversized jet planes, the highway traffic rushing to busy places.  I
will flick off sappers from the persimmon trees.

All of us at Maggie's accept this honor with great pleasure, which has been bestowed upon us via email by noted Canadian journalist "Ted".

In his electrifying words, which have shaken the entire blogosphere, he says: "You have the most interesting blog in the world, well, maybe except for a few other really good ones that I also check daily."

Alas, our friend Ted is neither an influential blogger, nor a blogger at all, but he had some college and rebuilds truck carburetors. You'd be surprised how many trucks there are in Winnipeg: the town is one giant truck stop with a fine S.I.R store just down the road from the MacDonald's, next to the tittie bar and the incredibly busy WalMart. Ted writes a bit of poetry on the side (you may have read his "blue-collar modernist" gem in The New Yorker, a deeply spiritual piece which begins: When my girl is on the nag / should I sleep in my car / or go to the bar?) along with the occasional feature piece on local color for the Winnipeg Free Press. Sad to say, local color is a scarce commodity in Winnipeg other than at Pop's Topless Lounge and Pizza. Ted has been known to shoot a Snow Goose or twenty, or more, on a slow day at work - but, in Canada, every day is a slow day at work unless you live in the US suburb called Toronto.

Thank you, Ted, for the honor. We will treasure it always. 

From Alan Jacob's The Narnian:

Transformation is not optional but mandatory for Christians. This was Lewis' consistent position. After all, he had undergone his own transformation, discovering "depth under depth of self-love and self-admiration" and submitting to the life-long discipline of being purged of such sin. We must die in order to live, hate our lives in order to find them, give up what we think of as ourselves in order to gain our true selves. And this is the most difficult of tasks.

Is this news? It's like Dog Bites Man. Of
course, ducks always eat aliens, wherever
they can find them, now that they have no food due to Bush's Global Warming Crisis.  

That's why we see so few inter-galactic aliens around, these days. And so many fat ducks. It's a no-brainer: the ducks are obviously eating up all of the aliens - because of Bush. It doesn't take a scientist to put 1 and 1 together.

What do you expect the ducks to eat? MacDonalds? Poached salmon with dill sauce? Oysters Rockefeller? 

They do not seem to have taken to eating illegal aliens quite yet: give them time to adjust to the jalapeno and cilantro flavors, and they will gobble them up, too.

Image: North America's flamboyant but blood-thirsty Wood Duck, fattened on alien flesh.

For Sale: A lightly-used 2003 36' Hinckley Picnic Boat for sale in Marion, MA. You know you want her: you know you need her. Details, more photos, price, and specs here. The water-jet drive is the second-best part: her lines are the best part. The perfect week-end powerboat. Not cheap.

 

 

A Glock with a drum magazine. Perfect for popping rats at the dump, or for protecting your Hinckley Picnic Boat from pirates. Video. 

Image: A Glock 18, 9 mm, alas without drum! Not a powerful person-stopper, but intimidating enough for many routine purposes.

It is probably a measure of the comfort - or decadence - of our soft, safe, self-worshipping and easy civilization that the above question could even be asked.

Esolen at Touchstone has written a wonderful piece on the risk that is involved in manliness - the willingness to take risks unto death to do what is needed. One quote:

The humility of risk is perfected in Christ and is, even when marred or hidden by the swagger, essential to natural manhood. The men of all really thriving cultures know that their lives, if truly lived, are not their own. The samurai was taught to relish each day as one won from death, an unexpected boon: For the moment he swears allegiance to his lord, he must consider his life as already forfeit. Thus, he can lay that life down at a nod, whenever the sacrifice should be required.

Men who went down to the sea in ships, Viking marauders or Nantucket whalers, knew well they might never return, yet they did go; and the man on the mizzen in the midst of a storm knew that his life literally hung by a thread, and that many of his fellows in just his situation never saw land again, but without him and his obedience there could be no voyage beyond the calm of a bay. The crewmen on the Titanic held it as their duty, once the iceberg’s devastation had been reckoned, to assume that their lives were lost. Only so could they tax their muscles and their broken hearts to the last stretched fiber, to save as many other souls as they could, particularly women and children.

The lad who carried the flag in the old fields of war was unarmed and most conspicuous, but most necessary for the rallying and ordering of his comrades. He was indispensable in his choosing the honor of being the single man least likely to survive the battle. The man first up the ladder to scale the walls of a besieged city would likely also be the first man dead beneath; but if he does not go, no one goes.

The Spartans at Thermopylae knew they could not hold that pass forever against a Persian army many times their strength, but they held long enough for the Athenians to prepare for the onslaught. And you hold a pass by understanding that your life is not your life. You block the opening. The foe must break through over your dead body.

Read the whole inspiring, true thing. And let me know what you think: Should a man be willing to risk his life in defense of home, hearth, tribe or nation?

Image: Missing Man formation of Air Force F-15s

Not a good place to fall off your water skis. They got some hungry gators there, and they'll really make a mess outta you.

 

 

Hell is empty and all the devils are here.

Shakespeare 

"Very modest woods. Not oaky in the sense of how I think of grand trunks and full leaves. These are rather like the dwarf relatives.  In their shade grow diminutive tulips (brought by the crusaders to Holland, and made famous and larger by the Dutch). These tulips are perhaps the length of your finger, with flowers the breadth of your thumb. Also, one of the national flowers, kaloniot (I don't know the scientific name). These are also perhaps 6 cm high, with delicate red petals and a necklace of yellow inside the flower. Fields of them ruffle in the wind."