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 reality is that the "West" has finally reached the point of saturation wherein its economies and societies can no longer afford to guarantee a certain standard of living for the citizens of these countries in exchange for votes.
These nations have two factors in common: 1) they are all either confirmed to be or determined (as in the case of the United States) to become socialist democracies; and 2) they have evolved into overwhelmingly consumption-based societies, greatly diminishing their goods-producing sector (which generates the real wealth of a nation), thus eroding their job-creation ability as well as the nation's wealth and tax base. Yet the governments of all these countries continue to deficit spend, over-tax (chasing wealth and job-creation off-shore) and borrow in an effort to meet the expectations of the people.
The trick in this business is not to be right too early. A week ago I released my new book — the usual doom 'n' gloom stuff — and, just as the sensible prudent moderate chaps were about to dismiss it as hysterical and alarmist, Standard & Poor's went and downgraded the United States from its AAA rating for the first time in history.
... liberalism today lies in ruins, not only because it has indulged the cultural bilge that has given the looters their baseless sense of entitlement... but because it has failed, in its sanctimoniousness, to understand the necessary role illiberalism – guidelines, example, authority, boundaries – plays in the governing of society. It should never have happened that parents, teachers, and the police themselves, go in terror of the young, or in terror of the consequence of reining in their wildness. For the young's sake it should never have happened, never mind for ours. But the consequence is they are disinherited and we live in fear. In a society that is afraid to punish because it is afraid to judge, that does not understand the outrage of being offended against, that cannot feel the egregiousness of a crime, and that no longer even gestures at justice, it's no wonder there are people wildly calling for the return of capital punishment.
If the grownups don't provide the guardrails, who will?
It's not just for those of the gay persuasion anymore. For her birthday on Saturday, I took Mrs. BD down for dinner at Gradisca and then the last night of the ODC show at the Joyce (her picks, being her birthday).
The gentrification of the meat-packing district (high fashion, now), and the diversification (less gay-dominant) of the West Village and Chelsea (families, hetero couples and jolly groups of young blond gals with cute summer dresses everywhere) was fun to see. And people in the park, forgetting their troubles and woes...
We walked quite a bit - Hudson St., Jane St., Greenwich St., 13th St., etc., where the streets are confusing.
One thing is clear to me: The "fashionable upper East Side" is a dead zone. No fun at all. Stodgy, without vitality. These neighborhoods are not like that:
As I write in my book: “Want has been all but abolished. Today, fewer and fewer Britons want to work, want to marry, want to raise children, want to lead a life of any purpose or dignity.” The United Kingdom has the highest drug use in Europe, the highest incidence of sexually transmitted disease, the highest number of single mothers, the highest abortion rate. Marriage is all but defunct, except for William and Kate, fellow toffs, upscale gays and Muslims. From page 204: “For Americans, the quickest way to understand modern Britain is to look at what LBJ’s Great Society did to the black family and imagine it applied to the general population.”
Standing before a backdrop of graffiti, Cameron said Britain's damaged society had for too long been one which "incites laziness, that excuses bad behavior, that erodes self-discipline, that discourages hard work."
Honestly, close your eyes and try to imagine a scenario in which liberals would ever say that enough money has been spent, enough federal government power exerted. You will fail -- because there is just no satisfying liberals.
A mechanic was removing a cylinder-head from the motor of a Harley motorcycle when he spotted a well-known cardiologist in his shop.
The cardiologist was there waiting for the service manager to come and take a look at his bike when the mechanic shouted across the garage..
"Hey, Doc, want to take a look at this?"
The cardiologist, a bit surprised, walked over to where the mechanic was working on the motorcycle.
The mechanic straightened up, wiped his hands on a rag and asked, "So Doc, look at this engine. I open its heart, take the valves out, repair any damage, and then put them back in, and when I finish, it works just like new. So how come I make $39,675 a year and you get the really big bucks ($1,695,759) when you and I are doing basically the same work?"
The cardiologist paused, smiled and leaned over, then whispered to the mechanic...........
What's the difference between Bruschetta (pronounced "bresketta") and Crostini? Here's one answer. And don't forget the crouton, which I like made with whole slices, not cubes.
And here's a quote from a piece in The New Statesman on bruschetta, Toast of the Tiber:
"The relationship between bruschetta and "garlic bread" is a peculiar one. In principle, bruschetta is the honest, poor man's original -nothing but charred, oil-soaked bread rubbed with garlic-while "garlic bread" is the embellished pretender. But somehow things have got mixed up. British democracy has confused them. Garlic bread became genuinely democratised, sold in dispiriting packs of two, or even four, for 99p in the brightest freezer cabinets. Meanwhile, the monied torchbearers of democracy - in fact, the elite - went crazy for bruschetta, paying a small fortune for pane covered in broad beans or anchovies at the River Cafe. And so, bizarrely, buttery indigestible garlic bread has come to seem unpretentious "people's food", while bruschetta is the poncy snack of the People's Party. This is an unfortunate state of affairs. Everything that is best about bruschetta -- its power to bestow well-being in one crisp bite -- is betrayed by garlic bread. To begin with, as Marcella Hazan points out: "The most important ingredient in bruschetta is not garlic but olive oil." The garlic on bruschetta is rubbed on, so that you inhale the fresh garlic perfume as a backdrop to the olive oil, rather than eating great lumps of it. The origin of bruschetta was probably the ancient Roman practice of tasting newly pressed olive oil on a piece of bread, with or without garlic -- a practice that has continued in the oil-producing areas of Tuscany, Umbria and Lazio. The name derives from bruscare, meaning "to roast over coals". Alice Waters's version of bruschetta involves frying country bread in large amounts of oil, until thoroughly impregnated, and Elizabeth David recommends baking slices of white bread in the oven."
Thus we learn that American "garlic bread" is not really Italian. The whole piece is interesting, and makes me wonder whether we American garlic-lovers - me, anyway - use our garlic far more heavy-handedly than we should. I will do Bruschetta this way:
Sourdough bread slices lightly fried in oil then garlic-rubbed, chopped fresh tomatoes barely warmed in a little oil with sea salt and maybe a touch of vinegar (plus maybe a little lightly sauteed onion) then fresh basil and parsley sprinkled on top. I think a sloppy Bruschetta is just fine if the oil and tomatoes are excellent, but I think I prefer a little plate of Crostini with a glass of wine.
In Italy we were served Crostini that were simple thin toasted baguette slices (garlic-rubbed with a little salt) with oil and some herbs (including Rosemary), others with a very light smear of pesto or goat cheese, and some others with just a little bit of sauteed shallot. Clearly the oil is the main point - and the wine. The oil has to be the best. Any added flavor should be subtle.
I think I prefer my Crostini lightly salted and fried in olive oil with a bit of garlic without any other flavor added on top. However, that would be properly known as the French "crouton." My family loves these fried slices of Italian bread or baguettes, and will eat them with anything. In fact, the Pupette makes then now, for snacks.
If you Google "crostini+recipe" you can find a ton of ideas, most of which I think are excessive.
The Democratic leadership’s top priority isn’t to get America’s fiscal house in order. It is, as one aide candidly told The Hill, “to continue to raise resources to grow and preserve our majority.”
Wellfleet Harbor. The owners are tough, muscular, hard-working SOBs with tats and sexy girlfriends. Survivors. They drink and smoke and try not to die by drowning. It is traditional that fishermen cannot swim: there is no point to it. Fishermen do not go to the beach.
The shrinkage of government is supposed to be more severe here than in America, where the supposedly “savage,” “draconian,” etc., cuts recently agreed to mean that for a decade Washington must scrape by on $43.7 trillion rather than $46.1 trillion. Really.
The British state is morbidly obese. For a third consecutive year, government will spend more than half the gross domestic product — partly because half of all jobs created during the 13 years of Labor Party governance that ended in May 2010 were in the public sector.
Britain’s debt, now 62 percent of GDP, is scheduled to rise to 71 percent in 2013-14 before declining. Government devours 47 percent of national income.
Let me speak plain. That’s part of the problem in the black community. And many other communities. But a particular problem in the black communities, we have too many men making too many babies that they don’t want to take care of and then we end up dealing with your children. We’re not running a big babysitting service. We’re running a big government and a great city. Take care of your children. All of them. All of them.
Insty: ON THIS WEEK’S INSTAVISION, I celebrate 10 years of blogging and talk about where the blogosphere has been, and where it’s going.
The Grey Seals are not uncommon along the Cape Cod ocean beaches. Last summer, they were swimming around 15-20 feet from us, perhaps thinking we were some new sort of seal. They are big, curious, and harmless.
On a drizzly day last week, Mrs. BD and I hiked the beach from Newcomb's Hollow to Cahoon's Hollow (and back). We saw quite a few Greys in the water, looking almost like swimming black Labs.
Signs advise people that it is a crime to harass the seals, but there are no signs telling the seals not to harass the people.
One effect of the growing seal populations is that they attract the big sharks, Great Whites, Hammerheads, and others. Big sharks, of course, cannot distinguish a seal from a swimmer, but shark attacks are not really a problem, despite Jaws. When you see fins ("she's getting four stars from the road"), just get out of the water and read Moby Dick on the beach until they go away.
Photo above is a Grey Seal, resting on a beach.
Photo below is the crowded Cahoon's Hollow beach last week, in Wellfleet. Yes, we did have lunch at The Beachcomber. Duh. Sipp told me he used to pretend to play bass guitar in his band there. They specialize in blues and reggae, nightly during the summer. It feels like a Key West bar - quite cheerful and relaxed - and the seafood is pretty good. If you are under 50, be there or be square... but the music is too late at night for me.
A few pics of the Wellfleet Beachcomber below the fold, for Sipp's amusement -
Pond at the South Wellfleet Audubon, last week. This is really a dammed-up small stream, dammed by dirt farmers a century or two ago and not a natural pond. Wellfleet's natural ponds, large enough for sailing Sunfishes, are deep, clear kettle ponds which are eminently swimmable:
One of his best, I think. 1997, such a short time ago. Song brings tears to my eyes. Even if you aren't a fan, give this a try - do it for me, your Editor Dog in Chief:
Sue and Dan gave me permission to post this free ad for Aunt Sukie's, which is the extended BD family's favorite B&B in Wellfleet - or on the entire Cape, for that matter. My parents have stayed there, as have my son and his bride.
When the kids were young, we'd always rent a house (which permitted dogs) for a week or ten days - often large enough to accommodate friends and relatives too. Now, Mrs. BD and I often travel alone and, happily, we like to do exactly the same things (mostly). We don't need a whole house, and 4-5 days suffice for our annual doses of cold salt water swimming, fresh Wellfleet oysters, and touching base with our old haunts plus always adding one or two new ones. (Last year, we went twice to bracket our trip to Austria and Germany - and to drag Gwynnie and spouse up to the Cape).
Anyway, we love to stay at Aunt Sukie's. Why bother owning a place, when you can go where you want anytime and leave the worry and maintenance to others? (And I am always cognizant of Thoreau's admonition about the dangers of one's possessions owning you.) Besides the setting and their antique house with Sue's beautiful cottage gardens, Sue and Dan are truly gracious and enjoyable hosts. They have to be gracious to put up with a neanderthal right-wing nut like me.
One of the best things about Aunt Sukie's (named after Sue's great-great something aunt who once owned the house in 1830) are the guests you meet there at breakfast. I don't know how they get the guests they get, but they are blessed. Interesting, accomplished people from all over the world who aren't looking for a pretentious Four Seasons Resort with a heated swimming pool. The atmosphere is such that, after a breakfast or two together at the big table, you all tend to become instant temporary pals and are exchanging tips about how to spend the day energetically and fruitfully.
It's not fancy (small rooms, no Jacuzzis, etc); it's simple New England-style in the best sense. For those for whom it matters, they do have a Dartmouth College room available too in the old part of the place.
View from our bedroom deck towards your private beach, with Great Island in the background:
How do these people have any credibility? How do they get away with this? It’s mind boggling that its gotten to a point where the EPA is dictating policy based on what is an obvious fraud, or if you want to be gentle about it, creates enough doubt to back off.
This is looking like another ‘annus horribilis’ for Barack Obama, the ‘hope and change’ president who, on current trajectory, seems destined for failure, with a legacy of declining prosperity at home and dispiriting American weakness abroad.
How to Survive 
Image on right from Knish's 
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‘Is Marriage for White People?’