Make sure you do something Halloweeny today. Me, I’m playing dress up as the sheriff of Deadwood, Seth Bullock. OK, I’m no Timothy Olyphant, but this was easier for me to pull off than the suggested “Captain Jack Sparrow.” (M’s suggestion)
Then, it’s back to the house to carve a pumpkin. I’d better get the day started.
That it’s my Birthday.
The rumors are true. And I am 38. Plans for the day are a little in question at the moment, but at the very least we will be carving a pumpkin or two. Yes, I know that’s a Hallowe’en activity and not a birthday activity, but I do not make much distinction, having celebrated my birthday right before Hallowe’en for so many years. They are inextricably linked for me.
In any case, when the day shakes out, I will post the weekend details. Already had a very enjoyable Saturday and last week had a few redeemable qualities as well.
And, I’m pretty sure I’ve got the formula for a Dr. Momentum worked out. Stay tuned for details.
Libby “lied to FBI agents who interviewed him” in October and November 2003; committed perjury “while testifying under oath before the grand jury” in March 2004; and “engaged in obstruction of justice by impeding the grand jury’s investigation into the unauthorized disclosure — or ‘leaking’ — of Valerie Wilson’s affiliation with the CIA to various reporters in the spring of 2003.”
“When citizens testify before grand juries they are required to tell the truth,” Fitzgerald said in the statement. “Without the truth, our criminal justice system cannot serve our nation or its citizens.”
(oh yeah, lots of links shamelessly stolen from Bob McC. Can I help it that on very busy weeks he sends me decent links, which he also posts to his weblog? No — I didn’t think so.)
Iran’s New President Says Israel ‘Must Be Wiped Off the Map’
“Dude, you got some Israel on my map. That is so not cool. I volunteered to drive us through the West Bank, and all you had to do was check the map for me. But no — you were so hungry you had to eat in my car. You know I don’t like people eating in my car. Who’s going to clean this map up?”
Way to start off your presidency: suggest the destruction of another nation. Asshat.
Senior officials had avoided provocative language in the last decade, but Mr. Ahmadinejad appears to be taking a more confrontational tone than have recent Iranian leaders.
11 Killed in Airport Prison Fire
Upsetting story. However, I didn’t know that airports had prisons. I wonder if they’re like their own little municipalities. Their own police forces, Mayor of the Airport, libraries… I wonder if airports have parades or any sorts of seasonal festivals or feasts? Like, “T.F. Green Celebrates America” or “Logan Airport’s Feast of St. John.”
Critics Raise Ante for Miers
Concerned Women for America, one of the nation’s largest Christian advocacy groups, changed its “wait-and-see” position after reading speeches she gave in the early 1990s in which she supported, among other things, “the freedom of the individual woman’s right to decide for herself whether she will have an abortion.”
The speeches “indicate a radical feminist worldview, a penchant for judicial activism, race and sex quotas, a liberal characterization of the abortion debate and government spending, and an inability to articulate her positions clearly,” the group said in a statement.
CWA revealed to sources close at hand that they hope the next nominee will be a cavewoman. But they pointed out she doesn’t need to be a radical cavewoman.
(In other news, Harriet decided to withdraw her nomination. She thanked the president for dragging her clearly under qualified butt awkwardly through the news for the last few weeks.)
(I just heard Trent Lott say on TV that he hopes the President chooses the best “man, woman or minority for the job.” It’s good that he covers the three possible types of people. The president could choose a man. Or maybe a woman. Or, if he doesn’t find a qualified man or woman, he can always go with a minority.)
White House braces for leak charges
My recommendation: “Depends.” And get those prostates checked. In this day and age, you really can’t be too careful.
I admit - this story is only here because of this picture of Cheney. What is that expression? Is he pracicing his DeLay mug shot grin? I have trouble reading this guy.
White Sox Sweep The World Series
Tropical Storm Beta Forms in Caribbean Sea
However, I.T. people across the nation are worried that company employees won’t be able to resist. You think cleaning up after a virus is bad, you haven’t seen a hurricane.
The police were directing things, and off and on they had the rain whipping at them. Ryan and I took a quick Tuesday outing to No Problemo at lunch (see Flickr pix of the No Problemo Decor), and the wind seemed to be even worse in New Bedford.
Today’s overcast, cold weather seemed almost like a relief. To be fair, I actually saw some blue sky for the first time in days.
And they even let me out of my office once.
Amy warned of a server move, but for any EAForums readers stopping by here, I currently have no access to the site. The link to the main page is very un-main-page-like (http://www.eaforums.com/).
If anyone with pertinent info is reading this, please feel free to spread any useful information on the situation in the comments.
If you’re a radio station and apply for changes in your license to broadcast, the FCC’s rules state that your station becomes subject to review.
In the case of a Massachusetts station “WAVM” which has broadcasted from the Maynard High School for 35 years, their request to increase their transmitter signal was the perfect opportunity for a Christian broadcasting station to swoop in for their frequency.
The FCC ruled that a Christian station was a better idea and have pulled the high school’s licence, handing it over to be a religious station.
Although WAVM applied for the power increase five years ago, the group just heard about the outcome of the application process and were told the frequency was designated to another applicant.
“Gee, I wonder what’s taking so long with that application?”
“Oh, we didn’t tell you? Sorry, you’re not a licensed radio station anymore. Hope you like hymns!”
(via No More Mister Nice Blog)
Bush hired a bunch of bozos and they’re running the country into the ground.
I used to expect that the Republicans could at least be counted on for fiscal responsibility. But, nowadays, counting on them for anything is an extremely naive and inadvisable thing to do.
NYT: Is that fair to our children? If we keep borrowing at this level, won’t the Arabs or the Chinese eventually own this country?
Connie Mack: I am not worried about that. (emphasis added)
Carpetbagger Report has the details, but that’s Connie Mack, former FL senator and the guy in charge of reforming the tax code.
Did Bush have to really reach to find so many bozos on his side of the aisle, or do the bozos just rise to the top naturally?
In case you don't check it, I thought I'd mention that there are a few new posts over at Thing Of Ugly.
I forgot to include this link that JimC sent yesterday.
When I read the story, my interest was local. But the deeper I go, the more I see that this is a string tied to the all the crap going on with this administration and the energy industry.
We start with Mr. Barton’s impotent squealing, quoted in a local paper…
Of course, the comments as quoted by that Standard Times article don’t even focus on the merits or detriments of the location of the proposed LNG (liquefied natural gas) terminal, which is what is in dispute. Nobody that I know of opposes an offshore terminal. What we in the Fall River area (an area also lovingly referred to as “the radius of incineration”) object to is the placement, and the catastrophic nature of the possible failure of the plant.
But that really is only part of the story. It is notorious for such sites to be placed where politicians feel there will be little opposition on the grounds that the residents are too exhausted after working their difficult low-paying jobs to muster any sort of organized counter-effort. And, of course, in low-income areas there isn’t the money to fund resistance campaigns or hire high-priced legal representation.
The reason that the Weaver’s Cove people want to put the terminal in Weaver’s Cove is that it would be cheaper to them than putting it offshore. Forget the possible danger. Forget the fact that LNG terminals can be terrorist targets. Forget that they have to pass the LNG under bridges to get it where it’s going. It’s cheaper.
“The Weaver’s Cove LNG terminal project in Fall River, Massachusetts … showcases the lengths opponents will go to to stop a project,” Mr. Barton said in an opening statement to the Energy and Air Quality Subcommittee at its hearing on the Energy Information Administration’s winter fuel outlook.
“After FERC approved the application, the opponents slipped a provision in the highway bill … to prevent the demolition of the Brightman Street Bridge in order to block LNG tankers from using the river to get to the Weaver’s Cove project.
He says it like it’s not playing fair. The area had no say in where FERC (the Federal Energy Regulation Commission) allowed the facility to be cited. It was thrust upon Fall River. No representation in the matter. Few legal avenues were left after that. Massachusetts responded (legally), the president signed the bill and this fellow is crying foul because his friends are inconvenienced.
Imagine if Mr. Barton had been around at the time of the Boston tea party. Boy would he have been pissed off the next day! And dumping that tea in the harbor wasn’t even legal, and the tea itself wasn’t dangerous. I have to figure he would have flipped his wig. What right do those colonists have to determine what happens in their colony? Mr. Barton, this is Massachusetts. That’s how we roll.
Barton continues to make a fool of himself:
“Now, we all know who will be the first to complain about natural gas prices this winter. And everybody here knows who will blame high prices on a corporate conspiracy, don’t we?” the 12-term Texas congressman continued.
Corporate conspiracy? You said it first. But, really, Mr. Barton, don’t you think it’s a little silly tossing around the phrase “corporate conspiracy” as if it is an unlikely fantasy. How soon we forget Enron.
And a third strategy - the one called “Death Star” within Enron - is eerily similar to the kind of allegation made by California state officials during the crisis.
They had claimed companies including Enron had created phantom congestion on transmission lines, and entered into fake sales with one another to boost prices.The net effect of [the Death Star] transactions is that Enron gets paid for moving energy to relieve congestion without actually moving and energy or relieving congestion - Enron lawyers’ memo
Conspiracies in the energy industry? Perish the very thought! Imaginary. Tinfoil hat stuff. Tabloid newspaper fodder. When you find one dead cockroach in your kitchen, it’s smart to conclude that it was a loner.
Mr. Barton insults our intelligence. It’s just plain shocking.
So, who is this Barton fellow?
Well, the House just rejected a Democratic proposal to create a strategic refinery reserve. Why was that proposal rejected?
The bill was rejected 222 to 199, making way for a vote soon on Barton’s Gasoline for America’s Security Act[…]. The bill calls on the president to build a refinery that would only supply the military with refined products. It also calls on the president to designate at least three old military bases as suitable places to build a new refinery and allows the Department of Energy to approve refinery projects on an expedited basis.
Democrats, environmentalists, and state officials, however, have criticized the GAS Act, arguing that it would weaken clean air laws and do nothing to decrease gasoline prices. They say the bill amends the Clean Air Act to delay the healthy-air deadlines in cities such as Atlanta and Philadelphia, for instance. They argue that it would also override state authority and let the Department of Energy make decisions on refinery projects.
When you see “Department of Energy” remember that the (elusive) energy policy was set by the Vice President in secret meetings. So, just go ahead and substitute the phrase “energy industry” there. Or, if you prefer Mr. Barton’s terms “corporate conspiracy.”
Democrats also say their bill would be tougher on price gouging, giving the Federal Trade Commission new authority to punish instances of gasoline sellers taking unfair advantage of presidentially-declared energy emergencies.
I have a feeling that Mr. Barton would have a problem with going after price gougers. And you don’t want to inconvenience industry polluters.
To dig a little deeper on Barton:
Why am I not shocked that this guy and DeLay are in on some of the same pork? Beyond the obvious (both Texas Republicans).
Mr. Barton, “don’t bring that weak shit” as they say. Energy prices here in the north are high this year with or without the LNG tank. Even if we embraced the possible liquid death bomb with open arms, they couldn’t start using it until the new bridge is built, which is still years away. Using this year’s high energy prices in the hopes that you’ll scare people, cowing them into submission is despicable.
Miers Can’t Fill Out A Questionnaire
Known for her meticulousness and near obsessive attention to detail, Miers, for example, gave one-word answers to two-part questions, Leahy said, adding that some senators were “insulted” by her answers.
Way to ace the job application, Harriet. But there’s more to this story than just Harriet needing a “do-over” on the application.
Specter is upset because the discussion about Harriet is all happening in the back rooms with people reassuring other people that Harriet is a good soldier for those who oppose a woman’s right to control what goes on inside her own body. But, really, Arlen. Back rooms. Back alleys… who really pays attention to this stuff?
Don’t miss this priceless gem from unconfirmed almost-SCOTUS Bork:
Pointing to a deepening rift between conservatives appalled by the nomination and those seeking to placate Bush, Bork said the Senate is being asked to “confirm a nominee with no visible judicial philosophy who lacks the basic skills of persuasive argument and clear writing.”
Scathing! And look at the choice you’ve got as a conservative today. Choose one:
Not much wiggle room there.
DeLay Ordered to Texas for Booking
Rep. Tom DeLay was ordered to appear at the sheriff’s office in his home county of Fort Bend for booking on state conspiracy and money laundering charges.
Yep - they’re going to book him and fingerprint him. When do we get to see the mug shot? An attaboy or attagirl to the first person to post an image link!
Moralistic Buffoons Give Unsolicited Opinion About TV
“We were alarmed to find that the three worst shows … are being marketed as family-friendly when in fact these shows are none other than wolves in sheep’s clothing,” Brent Bozell, head of the Virginia-based group, said in a statement.
Brent Bozo needs to check himself before he wrecks himself. I have yet to see Family Guy or American Dad marketed to kids. I think that they’re just upset these shows skew liberal. Granted, they appear at the end of the “Safe Harbor” on Sunday (they air just before 10PM, instead of after 10) but there is a clear warning before every airing of the show.
And, to further etch these folks onto my pooplist, they went after Arrested Development as well. I guess it’s not bad enough that nobody watches the show.
Cancer Drug ‘Simply Stunning’
In test results released on Wednesday that researchers called “simply stunning”, the drug Herceptin was shown to dramatically reduce the recurrence of a common type of breast cancer in its early stage after chemotherapy.
In a sapphire blue chiffon gown by J.Mendel, Herceptin dazzled fans with an elegantly flowing train and a crystal banded empire waist, all befitting of a princess. It certainly wins for most attention-grabbing cancer-drug and our overall best dressed. Way to go, Herceptin!
Sorry, Angiotensin-I converting enzyme inhibitors. You’re so 2004.
Mad Chicken Disease
A villager has become the 13th person to die of bird flu in Thailand while his son is being treated for flu-like symptoms, the prime minister said. […] The victim had slaughtered and cooked a neighbour’s dead chickens.
Not to joke in the face of a looming apocalypse, but isn’t it overkill to slaughter a dead chicken?
Note to self: avoid the chicken at the Thai restaurant.
Astrologer predicts own death
Folks in Bhopal are worried that this “accurate” astrologer’s forecast means he will die at the predicted hour. Fear is bolstered by his previous track record.
“My father had predicted the death of my grandfather 15 years ago and it came true exactly like he calculated.”
Oddly, the grandfather was found face-down in his curry, with a knife in his back. Just as predicted! So, you can see why people are worried.
Take the Daily Show and turn it up a notch. What do you get?
Well, not The Colbert Report, but if I were forced to sum it up in a trite couple of sentences at gun point, you have my answer.
I really like The Daily Show. I think John Stewart is both funny and endearing. So I was a little bit worried when I heard that Comedy Central was going to try a new news show.
Stephen Colbert has taken the faux-news format and run with it. Instead of an expanded and improved SNL News show (which, arguably, is what The Daily Show is) Colbert has patterned his show after the more gimmicky and supposedly "edgy" shows that are further away from the bright center of actual journalism. Think O'Reilly Factor.
The half hour show has its own gimmicks. "The Word" is a rambling segment in which Colbert riffs his opinion off a "word of the day." Simultaneously, well-timed annotations appear in the split-screen which you may or may not find to be humorous. I do.
He has the obligatory interview segment. So far he's had Stone Phillips and Leslie Stahl. Like John Stewart, Colbert can joke on his feet and takes jokes of opportunity. And instead of having a semi-serious interview, the segment becomes another opportunity to goof around.
It's almost as though Comedy Central thought that The Daily Show was getting to be too much like actual news, and told Colbert to do his thing.
Because I like Stewart, I am reluctant to admit this, but I had trouble remembering to catch The Daily Show. But with Colbert on afterward, I'm more likely to watch Comedy Central from 11:00-12:00 every weekday. My main concern is that with the density of humor evidenced in the first two episodes, can Colbert keep it up for very long. I hope he can, because both the news and news coverage need lampooning more than ever.
If you like anything about The Daily Show, you need to catch The Colbert Report.
If you look at a sat photo of Taunton, you can see a trickle runs through it.
That’s “Mill River.” At the moment, residents of Taunton are worried that Mill river may be in danger of flooding, as an old dam threatens to burst.
The 12-foot-high Whittenton dam traverses a massive, interconnected waterway that cuts through Taunton, beginning with Winnecunnet Pond in the north, then Snake River and Sabbatia Lake, which feeds into Mill River, which runs through downtown. The dam is just north of downtown. Emergency officals said that if the dam gave way, flooding could occur around all those bodies of water, and a second dam upstream, the Morey’s Bridge dam, would also probably give way. If both dams gave way, the surge could be as much as 12 feet of water, said Senator Marc R. Pacheco, a Taunton Democrat.
12 feet of water in the center of Taunton is, clearly, very bad news.
[Update: it really sounds like the wall of water caused by dam failure would be something like 6 feet. Still very bad, of course. The water level is dropping in the Sabbatia, so that is good news. Fingers crossed.]
Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Best of luck, Taunton.
Check out this story on ABC. Apparently, one river is as good as another in Massachusetts. That’s the Merrimack in Lowell. What, 60 miles away?
You know what’s good with apple pie? Ice cream, that’s what. Because nothing goes with something fattening like something even more fattening.
Weekend #3 of October, and Pie #2. This pie was was crusted using lard and butter. It was better than last week’s but I’m not sure I like butter in pie crust. It was flaky, though.
Next weekend we will have pie #3. I will choose the apples from a local farmstand and go back to using Crisco for the crust. The Crisco is already in the freezer… waiting.
We made and decorated Halloween cookies. I’ll try to get some pix into the photostream later. For now you’ll just have to use your imagination.
Julie came up with a new drink. I’ll let her tell you the inspired name, but I will reveal the ingredients:
Danger: You can’t taste the alcohol.
On the other hand, there really isn’t much alcohol in it.
This weekend was Somerset’s “Musictown Festival.” Don’t ask me to explain it. We have adopted music as our “thing” since it’s harvest time and there aren’t too many farms in suburbia.
Now, an Apple Pie Festival… that would be something.
The festival includes a parade. In years past there have been varying amounts of candy-throwing at the parade. Some years, none of the floats throw candy. Most years, there is very little candy-throwing. This year it seemed as though nearly every group in the parade wanted to throw little hard candies at the crowd.
The kiddies, of course, go scurrying out to grab the candy. I was there with little M. I’d brought a folding chair for her. You know you’re feeding a kid too much candy when they’re not excited enough to even really lean forward too much to pick up the candy in front of them. Some kids will dart right in front of you to aggressively grab a Toostie Roll even if your fingernail is about to scratch its wrapper. Not M. It practically has to land in her lap.
I wonder what it takes to enter a float of one’s own? If I were to enter a float, what should it be? Something obnoxiously political? That might be funny. Sure, folks might get offended, but if I have to stand there and watch the Bristol county sheriff dart about shaking hands, and listen to some old codger tell him how great he is, people can look at my “Bush For President… of Iraq” poster.
Eh… Where was I? Wake me up when this post is over.
Oh, right - I’m wondering what sort of a float I should enter, were I to try to get into the parade next year. Any suggestions?
On the way, via back roads, we encountered some flooding. In one spot, water was literally bubbling out of a storm drain manhole cover like a fountain (I was driving and could not get a picture). This was hours after it had stopped raining.
The heavy rains after days of precipitation left us with a bunch of water and no ground to soak it up. There are lots of reports of flooded basements. Luckily, ours has been dry. I am fairly amazed at this. But the heavy winds did produce a leak.
Some of the local roads were closed, but we found our path mostly clear. We did encounter a yard in Swansea that had turned into a pond. The water was crossing the road, and there were rivulets across driveways. A number of landscaping plants found themselves over-irrigated.
The Church has come out warning against trying to use the Bible as literal truth. This is an announcement with direct implications to the so-called Intelligent Design nontheory. Reports the UK's Times Online:
The Bible is true in passages relating to human salvation, they say, but continue: “We should not expect total accuracy from the Bible in other, secular matters.”
They go on to condemn fundamentalism for its “intransigent intolerance” and to warn of “significant dangers” involved in a fundamentalist approach.
In case you're wondering what parts of the Bible they're talking about, they do get specific:
As examples of passages not to be taken literally, the bishops cite the early chapters of Genesis, comparing them with early creation legends from other cultures, especially from the ancient East. The bishops say it is clear that the primary purpose of these chapters was to provide religious teaching and that they could not be described as historical writing.
This does not interfere with anyone's belief in a creator. It simply means that the description in the Bible is not to be taken literally.
Or — for those who don’t mind InnerCaps: “SuiCider.”
In my quest to invent a drink which I can name “DrMomentum” (inspired by the Thirdmate) I have tried a number of less-than-fortunate combinations.
Today I came upon the first drink I would care to try again. It’s not a DrMomentum (it just doesn’t feel right) but a natural name did present itself. The Suicider.
Learn Fun Facts!
Sweet Cider is the kind of cloudy apple juice you can get refrigerated in the supermarket, pasteurized. Or you can get it straight from the farm stand, unpasteurized. Traditionally in New England, “apple cider” refers to the alcoholic, fermented beverage. That’s because the folks here in the 1800’s didn’t have refrigeration. They made apple cider so that they’d have something to drink which would last a while. Unfermented apple juice didn’t stay unfermented for long, and often just went bad unless you turned it into cider.
In Europe and Oceania, they have continued to use these meanings for the word “cider.” Predominantly here in America, somewhere along the line “cider” was coopted to mean simple, unfiltered apple juice.A new term “Hard Cider” is therefore needed to describe what had always been referred to before as “apple cider.”
Another Fun Fact:
You can hide an unexpected amount of bourbon in sweet cider.
I couldn’t let this one go by.
Computer chips that store music could soon be built into a woman’s breast implants. […] According to The Sun he said: “It is now very hard for me to thing [Ed note: he means “think”] of breast implants as just decorative. If a woman has something implanted permanently, it might as well do something useful.”
OK - they also mention the possibility for med-tech uses. But they’ve missed some obvious uses.
Some male scientists have also been experimenting with the idea of putting technology into the penis. However, repeated over-estimation of the space available has doomed that project to failure.
P. G Wodehouse was a literary genius, and the world doesn’t need a novice like me expounding for too long about it. However, I will say this.You have to find out if you’re the type of person who would like the Jeeves books, or not.
If you are, you’re in luck. The BBC TV series (which was shown on PBS, where we first encountered it) is quite good. It’s been mentioned here before — named “Jeeves and Wooster.” Adapted for television, it does what this novice considers to be a surprisingly good job of capturing the humor of the stories, a lot of which is rooted in the slang and language. It must have been frightfully difficult to translate to the screen. These episodes are on DVD and can be bought or rented.
If you’re not the type, this saddens me. For your sake. But not everyone can like every flavor of ice cream either, so I won’t hold it against you.
Now, I will do you a bit of a favor. If you’re not inclined to try a whole book, I’m betting there are a couple of passages that will tell you quickly whether you’re the type who will like Wodehouse or not. I have included them below the fold of this post, thanks to the work being in the public domain. Read on, if you please, to find out the role a gaudy white brass-buttoned jacket plays in the relationship between Bertie Wooster and his trusty valet Jeeves. Bertie narrates…
The first intimation I had that things were about to hot up was a pained and disapproving cough from the neighbourhood of the carpet. For, during the above exchanges, I should explain, while I, having dried the frame, had been dressing in a leisurely manner, donning here a sock, there a shoe, and gradually climbing into the vest, the shirt, the tie, and the knee-length, Jeeves had been down on the lower level, unpacking my effects.
He now rose, holding a white object. And at the sight of it, I realized that another of our domestic crises had arrived, another of those unfortunate clashes of will between two strong men, and that Bertram, unless he remembered his fighting ancestors and stood up for his rights, was about to be put upon.
I don’t know if you were at Cannes this summer. If you were, you will recall that anybody with any pretensions to being the life and soul of the party was accustomed to attend binges at the Casino in the ordinary evening-wear trouserings topped to the north by a white mess-jacket with brass buttons. And ever since I had stepped aboard the Blue Train at Cannes station, I had been wondering on and off how mine would go with Jeeves.
In the matter of evening costume, you see, Jeeves is hidebound and reactionary. I had had trouble with him before about soft-bosomed shirts. And while these mess-jackets had, as I say, been all the rage—_tout ce qu’il y a de chic_—on the Cote d’Azur, I had never concealed it from myself, even when treading the measure at the Palm Beach Casino in the one I had hastened to buy, that there might be something of an upheaval about it on my return.
I prepared to be firm.
“Yes, Jeeves?” I said. And though my voice was suave, a close observer in a position to watch my eyes would have noticed a steely glint. Nobody has a greater respect for Jeeves’s intellect than I have, but this disposition of his to dictate to the hand that fed him had got, I felt, to be checked. This mess-jacket was very near to my heart, and I jolly well intended to fight for it with all the vim of grand old Sieur de Wooster at the Battle of Agincourt.
“Yes, Jeeves?” I said. “Something on your mind, Jeeves?”
“I fear that you inadvertently left Cannes in the possession of a coat belonging to some other gentleman, sir.”
I switched on the steely a bit more.
“No, Jeeves,” I said, in a level tone, “the object under advisement is mine. I bought it out there.”
“You wore it, sir?”
“But surely you are not proposing to wear it in England, sir?”
I saw that we had arrived at the nub.
“You were saying, Jeeves?”
“It is quite unsuitable, sir.”
“I do not agree with you, Jeeves. I anticipate a great popular success for this jacket. It is my intention to spring it on the public tomorrow at Pongo Twistleton’s birthday party, where I confidently expect it to be one long scream from start to finish. No argument, Jeeves. No discussion. Whatever fantastic objection you may have taken to it, I wear this jacket.”
“Very good, sir.”
He went on with his unpacking. I said no more on the subject. I had won the victory, and we Woosters do not triumph over a beaten foe. Presently, having completed my toilet, I bade the man a cheery farewell and in generous mood suggested that, as I was dining out, why didn’t he take the evening off and go to some improving picture or something. Sort of olive branch, if you see what I mean.
He didn’t seem to think much of it.
“Thank you, sir, I will remain in.”
I surveyed him narrowly.
“Is this dudgeon, Jeeves?”
“No, sir, I am obliged to remain on the premises. Mr. Fink-Nottle informed me he would be calling to see me this evening.”
“Oh, Gussie’s coming, is he? Well, give him my love.”
“Very good, sir.”
“And a whisky and soda, and so forth.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Right ho, Jeeves.”I then set off for the Drones.
Bertie goes off to visit the men’s club he frequents. It’s a place filled with fellows that make Bertie look like a genius.
Later in the story, Bertie is letting Jeeves in on his plan to get his cousin Angela to sympathize with her on-the-outs boyfriend Tuppy Glossop. The plan involves the gluttonous Tuppy refusing to eat a delicious dinner to give the impression that he is pining for Angela. Jeeves is dubious, and is not hiding it.
“I don’t want to seem always to be criticizing your methods of voice production, Jeeves,” I said, “but I must inform you that that ‘Well, sir’ of yours is in many respects fully as unpleasant as your ‘Indeed, sir?’ Like the latter, it seems to be tinged with a definite scepticism. It suggests a lack of faith in my vision. The impression I retain after hearing you shoot it at me a couple of times is that you consider me to be talking through the back of my neck, and that only a feudal sense of what is fitting restrains you from substituting for it the words ‘Says you!’”
“Oh, no, sir.”
“Well, that’s what it sounds like. Why don’t you think this scheme will work?”
“I fear Miss Angela will merely attribute Mr. Glossop’s abstinence to indigestion, sir.”
I hadn’t thought of that, and I must confess it shook me for a moment. Then I recovered myself. I saw what was at the bottom of all this. Mortified by the consciousness of his own ineptness—or ineptitude—the fellow was simply trying to hamper and obstruct. I decided to knock the stuffing out of him without further preamble.
“Oh?” I said. “You do, do you? Well, be that as it may, it doesn’t alter the fact that you’ve put out the wrong coat. Be so good, Jeeves,” I said, indicating with a gesture the gent’s ordinary dinner jacket or smoking, as we call it on the Cote d’Azur, which was suspended from the hanger on the knob of the wardrobe, “as to shove that bally black thing in the cupboard and bring out my white mess-jacket with the brass buttons.”
He looked at me in a meaning manner. And when I say a meaning manner, I mean there was a respectful but at the same time uppish glint in his eye and a sort of muscular spasm flickered across his face which wasn’t quite a quiet smile and yet wasn’t quite not a quiet smile. Also the soft cough.
“I regret to say, sir, that I inadvertently omitted to pack the garment to which you refer.”
The vision of that parcel in the hall seemed to rise before my eyes, and I exchanged a merry wink with it. I may even have hummed a bar or two. I’m not quite sure.
“I know you did, Jeeves,” I said, laughing down from lazy eyelids and nicking a speck of dust from the irreproachable Mechlin lace at my wrists. “But I didn’t. You will find it on a chair in the hall in a brown-paper parcel.”
The information that his low manoeuvres had been rendered null and void and that the thing was on the strength after all, must have been the nastiest of jars, but there was no play of expression on his finely chiselled to indicate it. There very seldom is on Jeeves’s f-c. In moments of discomfort, as I had told Tuppy, he wears a mask, preserving throughout the quiet stolidity of a stuffed moose.
“You might just slide down and fetch it, will you?”
“Very good, sir.”
“Right ho, Jeeves.”
And presently I was sauntering towards the drawing-room with me good old j. nestling snugly abaft the shoulder blades.
And Dahlia was in the drawing-room. She glanced up at my entrance.
“Hullo, eyesore,” she said. “What do you think you’re made up as?”I did not get the purport.
Do you get the sense that Jeeves will not let this go so easily? You’ll have to watch the TV adaptation or read the story to find out. It is from the book Right Ho, Jeeves.
Facts To Learn And Know: A valet works for an individual. A butler is employed to serve a household.
So proclaims the label of the other new Fresca.
As promised: my impressions.
The aroma is all cherry. Reminiscent of Perrier cherry-flavored water.
The initial flavor is overpoweringly cherry, with the citrus here much further in the background than with the new peach variation. Together, the cherry and citrus make an almost sherbet-like combination. The flavor is much more smooth than regular Fresca. The slight bitter aftertaste is accompanied by the cherry aftertaste which lingers longer.
If I had to rate them relative to each other, I like the peach variation best, then this new cherry flavor, and the old Fresca last. Which is notable, because I liked the old Fresca.
Some may be turned off by how strong the new flavorings are. Other than that, I think these are worth a try for anyone who likes Fresca or is looking for a new diet soft drink.
The Weekend at (slightly more than) a glance.
Saturday: Wallace and Gromit
Sunday: Apple Picking
Monday: Pie and Sea Tales
Details below the “fold.”
Julie met with us to see Curse of the Were-Rabbit.
If you’re familiar with Wallace and Gromit, you already know whether or not you will like this film. And the case is, most probably, that you know you will like it.
The Aardman studios characters — a cheese-loving British goofy inventor and his emotive yet silently clever dog — are a refreshing change from most of the vacuous available children’s entertainment. It’s encouraging to see the moviegoing public embracing good quality animation. Nick Park’s characters have a warm quality about them that even the best of the latest CGI films are missing. They radiate a timeless charm.
It’s hard to believe that it was over 10 years ago that we were watching “The Wrong Trousers” at the Avon in Providence (remember, Bri?)
The film is accompanied by a short, featuring the penguins from the DreamWorks film “Madagascar.” The short was full of slapstick antics and a few decent groaners, but ran a tad long.
This film is structured much like previous W&G features, including an outrageous action/chase sequence at the end. While nothing, in my mind, can match that first time I saw Wallace and Gromit give it their all to apprehend that crooked penguin while riding a model train, Were-Rabbit has its own share of surprises in store. Fun for the whole family.
We hit the nearest Wings to Go on the way home for an early dinner, and introduced Julie to the BBC version of Jeeves and Wooster on DVD back at the ranch.
We were lucky enough to join up with Sara for some apple picking. They weren’t ideal fall conditions, but intrepid pickers we are. We located a nearby PYO farm (the C.N. Smith farms in East Bridgewater) and headed out.
There were a surprising number of undaunted folks at the orchard. We were attired for the rain that dogged us all day, perfectly resigned to getting a decent soaking. C.N. Smith Orchard is bursting with varieties of apples. The Macs were already picked out, but we drowned our sorrows in Cortland, Mutsu, Fuji, Braeburn, Red Delicious, Golden Delicious, Macoun, Spencer, and Granny Smith.
We made our way down the rows, sometimes slowed by huddled groups of umbrella-wielding apple-seekers. One wondered how one was supposed to enjoy apple-picking if you had to hold both a bag and an umbrella. And these groups seemed to lumber about in clogs, with always the danger of the dreaded eye-poke form a wayward umbrella rib. Me without my swim goggles.
Some of us, instead, embraced the weather. That is, if you can call slickers and duck boots any sort of embrace. We stopped far short of cavorting among the branches au natural. I believe that proper rain gear is a happy medium.
As rain dripped from our arms, so did it run off the apples themselves, giving to them a dark, wine-like quality. The Cortlands, familiar to me usually as a red-to-green variety, were astonishingly plum-colored, drawing numerous remarks as we twisted them off and stared for a moment before dropping them into the girls’ bags.
Having such a variety available was a treat, because here was a first opportunity to compare. The girls were clearly excited to have apple choices for the first time in an orchard like this. Most of the good apples were fairly high up, but there was decent picking somewhere for even the shortest of our party.
We parted company with Sara after returning home, and spend the dinner hour at my parents’ house, catching up after the last couple of weeks.
Little of interest happened today. The day itself was spent running a shopping errand or two. Back home it was reading time while the girls played.
Maggie expressed an interest in apple pie, and she obliged in reading to me from The Mauritius Command as I peeled the apples and prepared the pie shell. The fourth book of the Aubrey/Maturin series is where, we think, I left off the last time I was reading O’Brian’s wonderful fiction. Or perhaps not, as the book seems extremely familiar. It’s not important, though, as it’s a lot of fun to be able to enjoy the book by sharing it with Maggie, who has read all of them and more.
The pie came out quite passable. Improved with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. The pie crust could have been a lot less crumbly. But the variety of apples used gave the pie some definite character. Every pie is an adventure. An adventure in calories, to be sure, but you never know exactly what you’re going to get. Mixing up apples, you definitely get something greater than the sum total of parts.
So, I watched the Red Sox game tonight. (Well, I listened to most of it, and watched the end)
Boy, those White Sox can play some baseball.
And, boy, it’s somehow comforting to actually feel like a Red Sox fan again. The last year was really strange.
So, welcome back to the world we all remember, fellow Red Sox fans.
New phrase. Hot, fresh and ready for you.
“Your Rush is showing.” - Meaning: “You have repeated a demonstrably false American Republican talking point.” Named for the conservative talk show host “Rush Limbaugh” known for spouting falsehoods and blathering on incessantly. Note to liberals: People whose Rush is showing should be treated with care. They’ve been duped, and are in a vulnerable state. They need your guidance and sympathy while they recover.
I made it up. Feel free to use it.
If you like this phrase, and you’re bored, you might also like the glee over at Billmon’s Whiskey Bar regarding Rush Limbaugh’s apparent confusion over what to say about Bush’s newest crony SCOTUS nominee.
Maggie doubted my LEARN STUPID FACTS! so here are references:
If I had made them up, I would have called them “PSEUDO-FACTS!” For the sake of clarity.
Fresca has gotten a makeover, and a couple of new flavor spinnoffs.
Yes, as always, Aces Full of Links is the place to go for cutting edge diet soft drink news.
The two new flavors are Sparkling Peach Citrus Fresca and Sparkling Black Cherry Fresca. Both are now available at the local supermarket here.
You can see the old can design in this image from the Coca Cola website. The new one is really retro-spacey. Frankly, a little generic looking. But the old design was no great shakes either, so I’m not complaining. I think it’s a slight improvement.
I’ve been drinking the Sparkling Peach Citrus Fresca for two days now. It’s more peach than citrus, but you can still taste the grapefruit Fresca flavor peeking through. It’s a very fresh balance, actually. I’m going to guess that people who like fruit-flavored drinks will like this a little bit more than the original Fresca. I like peach, so I think this is a definite improvement.
One thing is for certain, Sparkling Peach Citrus Fresca is head and shoulders above the abomination that is 7-Up Plus. It took me months to work through a 12 pack of that mix of soda water, apple juice vitamin C and Splenda. (Side note: 7-Up Plus comes in 2 new flavors. You know I will eventually have to try them.)
Julie has a theory about mixing sugar and Splenda, and in the case of 7-Up Plus I have to agree.
But back to Fresca; it doesn’t contain Splenda. And the peach is definitely a good thing. The real test will be for me to get cans of the stuff and try them at 1 in the morning with a box of pretzel sticks. Thumbs up from Aces Full of Links.
I’ll report on the Black Cherry version when I have a chance.
LEARN STUPID FACTS!!!
Did you know….?
I like Amazon’s “also interested” feature. If I were a kid who loved “Toy Story” and were looking for a new movie to watch, check out these recommendations straight from the Amazon page for the “10th Anniverary Ediiton” of “Toy Story.”
Customers interested in this film were also interested in these films:
- Wedding Crashers Theatrical Release ~ Owen Wilson (Rate it)
- Chicken Little Theatrical Release ~ Joan Cusack (Rate it)
- The Chronicles of Narnia Theatrical Release ~ Georgie Henley (Rate it)
- Saw II Theatrical Release ~ Donnie Wahlberg (Rate it)
That’s right, kids! Check out the Wedding Crashers and Saw II!