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.
The New York Times writes that the effort to rehabilitate HealthCare.gov is in truth part of a broader project, “a frantic effort aimed at rescuing not only the insurance portal and Mr. Obama’s credibility, but also the Democratic philosophy that an activist government can solve big, complex social problems.” We’ve been having that debate for a long time, and, while it may not yet be settled to everyone’s satisfaction, we have answered the narrower question of whether this administration can solve big, complex social problems: It can’t even solve its own website.
(h/t American Digest) - Africa's Aid Mess - Renowned author Paul Theroux discusses
why the philanthropy of Bill Gates, Bill Clinton, Bono, and Jeffrey
Sachs largely fails. Here's what works.
A quote:
I was impressed by the self-sufficiency of ordinary people. Without much in the way of outside help, the people in the countries I knew managed to endure, usually through the simplest traditional means, and finally to prevail. Africa has the schools, the money and the resources to fix its own problems; it's appalling to think of donors telling them otherwise, of the whole continent terminally indebted and living on handouts.
It seems that the preening condescension of Western billionaires' "help" is not what Africans need. Like the Appalachian hillbillies in the 1960s, they don't know they need help but, like most humans, they'll take a freebie.
Does Africa need my help? Investment is one thing, but help?
24:36 "But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.
24:37 For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man.
24:38 For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark,
24:39 and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man.
24:40 Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left.
24:41 Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left.
24:42 Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.
24:43 But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into.
24:44 Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.
Doris Lessing's Impatience With Political Correctness - As we bid Lessing farewell, the blight she
spoke of—“political correctness” and, in particular, its toxic feminist
strain—is on the move again
...they discovered that young women are more likely to regret having indulged in too many or the wrong kind of sexual experiences while young men are more likely to regret having missed out on sexual opportunities, for not having been sufficiently assertive.
Here's one quote of the Inquisitor's monologue to the returned and imprisoned Jesus Christ:
So long as man remains free he strives for nothing so incessantly and so painfully as to find someone to worship. But man seeks to worship what is established beyond dispute, so that all men would agree at once to worship it. For these pitiful creatures are concerned not only to find what one or the other can worship, but to find community of worship is the chief misery of every man individually and of all humanity from the beginning of time. For the sake of common worship they've slain each other with the sword. They have set up gods and challenged one another, "Put away your gods and come and worship ours, or we will kill you and your gods!" And so it will be to the end of the world, even when gods disappear from the earth; they will fall down before idols just the same.
Thou didst know, Thou couldst not but have known, this fundamental secret of human nature, but Thou didst reject the one infallible banner which was offered Thee to make all men bow down to Thee alone -- the banner of earthly bread; and Thou hast rejected it for the sake of freedom and the bread of Heaven. Behold what Thou didst further. And all again in the name of freedom! I tell Thee that man is tormented by no greater anxiety than to find someone quickly to whom he can hand over that gift of freedom with which the ill-fated creature is born.
In our mens' Bible group this morning, reading Peter, we stumbled on the topic of death and a satisfied death. Christians would have no fear or dread of death without our animal survival instincts. Life can be a trial at times, and often feels more like a burden than like a gift. Notwithstanding that, we all have it darn good, materially and comfort-wise, compared to our ancestors. Not to sound like a Puritan, but does anybody say, on his deathbed, "I thank God that I had flush toilets"?
Well, maybe some might. It's chilly out there with your trousers down.
An old gospel tune: Hallelujah, I'm Ready to Go. Lyrics here.
A sucker born every minute. But that's not really the point. I think the faux deals just provide an excuse, or rationalization, for the immediate-gratification fun of going out and getting shiny new stuff.
"Take the New York Times. In a fit of candor, it now agrees with what we've said all along — "redistribution of wealth lies at the heart of" the Affordable Care Act.
The paper reported that "economic justice" was Obama's real goal in taking over a sixth of the economy. But to make his plan "palatable" to "middle-class voters," he had to mislead them into thinking nothing would be taken from them."
In the absence of the Red Hot Chili Peppers and a bunch of pipers, Mrs. BD will have to bang out Auld Lang Syne herself on ye olde pianny tomorrow afternoon for a sing-along as the extended BD family gives thanks, but, for the first time, with my parents gone. Lots of people sleeping over - hope we can find enough rooms and beds at the BD Manor.
Mrs. BD can still find her pianny brain when she wants to. There is nothing like a Steinway to inspire them fingers because the machine fills the house with glorious sound, missed notes and all. I like the missed notes.
Our Thanksgiving tradition is to always invite friends along with family, especially friends and acquaintances without jolly and festive plans, but not so much of that this year even though we love having people around the place. There remains a funereal atmosphere in the family. These lyrics are more appropriate for the situation than I might have imagined. If any one of us can get through it without breaking down, I'll be amazed.
It is true that Bobbie Burns stole the lyrics, but he said he had done so.
Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind? Should old acquaintance be forgot, and old lang syne?
CHORUS: For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne, we'll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.
And surely you’ll buy your pint cup! and surely I’ll buy mine! And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne.
CHORUS
We two have run about the slopes, and picked the daisies fine ; But we’ve wandered many a weary foot, since auld lang syne.
CHORUS
We two have paddled in the stream, from morning sun till dine; But seas between us broad have roared since auld lang syne.
CHORUS
And there’s a hand my trusty friend! And give me a hand o’ thine! And we’ll take a right good-will draught, for auld lang syne.
We like big bottles for holidays, but they will want to breathe for a few hours.
That's a double magnum of Pol Roger (no breathing), a Jeroboam of 1994 Col di Sasso Tuscany cabernet/sangiovese, a double magnum of Meeker Sonoma Merlot 2002, and a couple of bottles of late bottled Ramos Pintos 1998 Port. Those late-bottled vintage ports are a good deal, and ready to drink. Martinelli's for the teetotalers (in the fridge, not photogenic).
Plenty nice enough for a proletarian, gun totin', pa'tridge huntin', dog lovin', Bible-clingin' proud Yankee red-necked Mayflower farmin' family. We'll have some cheap seegars, too. Everybody will sleep well... and far more comfortably than their Pilgrim ancestors ever did.
Nice picture on the wall? I like Cape Codder John Grillo. Chatted with him several times. He's still alive, and one day I might be able to afford another one of his purty pitchers of nekked gals and dancers before he goes to the great art studio in the sky. I hope to see him this summer, well-aged (b. 1917) but alive and still working all day, every day.
As a native Cape Codder and cranberry fan, it's a delight to report that they may have a powerful anti-atheroscletotic effect. Maybe this news might have a beneficial effect on a specialized family farming that has been bedeviled by low prices.
The big producers are Wisconsin, Massachusetts, New Jersey, Washington, Oregon and Michigan.
The sentence in Science Daily I don't understand is the following: "The researchers said that the next step is to determine which compounds in cranberries contribute to the benefits and then figure out how to incorporate them into the diet in a form palatable to humans." How about in cranberry juice, cranberry muffins, cranberry pancakes, 25 kinds of cranberry sauce, cranberry cobbler, and dried cranberry "raisins,"....for starters? You can buy unsweetened, undiluted cranberry juice now in most supermarkets.
We keep bags of them in the freezer, and they seem to last a year.
Cranberry sauce: it's not just for Thanksgiving turkey. It's good for chicken and almost any kind of game meat. Never use the junk from the can, though. Even if you think you like it, you will find you like the home-made better.
More on this native North American bog plant here.
Liberalism has spent the better part of the past century attempting to prove that it could competently and responsibly extend the state into new reaches of American life. With the rollout of the Affordable Care Act, the administration has badly injured that cause, confirming the worst slurs against the federal government. It has stifled bad news and fudged promises; it has failed to translate complex mechanisms of policy into plain English; it can’t even launch a damn website. What’s more, nobody responsible for the debacle has lost a job or suffered a demotion. Over time, the Affordable Care Act’s technical difficulties can be repaired. Reversing the initial impressions of government ineptitude won’t be so easy.
Inquiring minds want to know. Here's ours, for around 23 people - family and friends:
Unknown hors d'oevres (my Sis brings) with Champagne.
Two turkeys, one in the oven with cornbread stuffing, and one on the grill. Extra stuffing. Gibier gravy. My Mom is making her famous artery-smoothing mashed potatoes with sour cream and cream cheese and chives etc in them (mashed potatoes like that plus regular red wine intake have kept my 85 year-old Dad alive and kicking thus far). Brussel Sprouts sauteed with bacon and shallots. String beans with almonds. Creamed baby onions. Sweet potatoes done somehow by my Bro. Mountains of various forms of Cranberry sauces (The best? Orange-Cranberry Relish). Corn pudding (from good dried corn like Cope's) from my M-in-law. Good red wine, cider, along with lots of Martinelli's for the teetotalers and an assortment of really good beers including Palm and some of the German Weissbraus that I have become fond of.
Pumpkin Pie made by Mrs. BD from fresh pumpkin, and Squash Pie from fresh Butternut squash. Apple Pies made by another Sis. Indian Pudding. Pumpkin Cheesecake. Ice cream and whipped cream on the side. Some decent Port for after, with cigars for the gents (and for any women who want them. As far as I know, Mrs. BD has not smoked a cigar since the Macanudo she rebelliously enjoyed at our wedding reception).
The best part? Everybody helps clean everything up after, and nobody leaves until it's all done. It gets like The Cat in the Hat around here. The strong men scrub the pots and pans and carry the rental tables and chairs out to the driveway. Our family - families - are like that: they seem to enjoy work and effort, and seek it out. If they can't find any work at hand to be done or any mess to be tidied, they go for a five mile run or split some firewood or build a wall or do something useful. None of my own kin will watch TV. It's Yankee blood. We do not do idle very well, even on vacation. Or especially on vacation. Maybe it's a flaw - but mess and idleness are the haunts and playthings of the devil. We can rest and "relax" all we want when we're dead. Until then, it's "Hi, Ho, Go, Go" as long as we can.
With a world so full of wonders and challenges, why leave a legacy of a dent in a sofa?
What 3,700-Year-Old Wine Tasted Like - Archaeologists reveal the "sweet, strong" flavor of ancient
booze, and wonder whether they might be able to recreate it.
Flash 
Buying Guns on Black Friday
Matthew 24:36-44
A book: 
From The Brothers Karamazov (1879). The chapter is one of the most famous passages in literature, and it's time we re-linked it. 
Blatantly-racist Thanksgiving artwork via Pirate
Who says Poodles don't hunt? Photo above and on right via 
What's on your menu? (re-posted) -