David Warren grew up in Lahore, Pakistan, in the sixties. Fascinating read. Fascinating. permalink
The Barcode King thinks that the person searching for "fasces" was really searching for "fasces," and includes a definition, but not a picture. I'd contest the issue with him, but then I just read his blog, specifically this piece, and I'm afraid to make him angry. You have been warned.
Say. Did I ever tell you folks that I am an ex-Postal worker? It's true. I worked in the Elizabeth Post Office for about a year and a half, while I was going to college. That's why I know the package I sent to Irongall today, even though it's marked fragile, will probably get to her with the CD cases inside cracked.
My uncle worked for the Post Office in San Diego that everyone used to read about. Because every few months, another employee there would grab a gun and kill a manager or three. The thing about the Postal Service is you could eliminate two thirds of the management and still have enough managers to run the place. Nope, I'm not exaggerating. You couldn't turn around without tripping over a manager at the Elizabeth Post Office. I got in trouble once by a manager-in-training. It was Christmas night, I believe, and I was working because, well, Jews, Christmas, not so big a deal, y'know? It was a skeleton crew. There were only a few newbies, almost no veteran staffers, and no real managers, just this guy Tom (who was also a newbie), who was kissing more than enough ass to make management. He was in charge.
That night was pretty slow. I was bored. So was everyone else, as well as upset that they had to work on Christmas night. So I grabbed the microphone during lunchtime and gave my own special version of a "safety talk." I heard laughs coming from all over the plant, and then Tom came over to me when I finished and said, "I'm going to have to write you up for that. You're not allowed to use the P.A. system without permission." I tried to talk him out of it, to no avail. It was like trying to get a talking doll to stop repeating its stock phrases. So I guess my file still has that black mark in it somewhere. Maybe you could request it with the Freedom of Information Act. Okay, maybe not.
Anyway. Here's an interesting piece of trivia: One of my coworkers was a woman who is now married to Scott Garrett, Republican from Sussex County, who pushed Marge Roukema out of Congress and won her seat in NJ. Mary Ellen Cosmos, she was back then. I introduced them. They never invited me to the wedding. In fact, Mary Ellen dropped me as her friend soon after she started dating Scott. I think he always disapproved of me, though he was nice to me in college.
Hm. I probably shouldn't be revealing all this secret information about a Congressman, but heyif they had invited me to their wedding, then I wouldn't be ratting them out like this. permalink
I went to Heidi's for dinner, and since I had my Braun hand blender, and since I hadn't yet made latkes during Chanukah (made 'em back in November for my birthday), I told her I could be persuaded to make them with dinner. And so I did, with some assistance from the girl in the picture, who also managed to relieve me of candle-lighting duties (I told you she would). I would not, however, let Sorena have some of the batter to mold into shapes for the sake of molding it into shapes. It's too labor-intensive to waste the batter.
I'd show you pictures of the latkes, but we ate them all. Well, except for the three we gave to the dogs.
There are several items that I have been searching for almost since I moved. One of the big problems with putting things in boxes is that sometimes, things stay there. Or they get misplaced. Or you label a box, say, "Miscellaneous bedroom" and forget to add, "Plus menorah, stupid, which you won't be able to find come Chanukah because you're looking in all the wrong boxes, and you were expecting the menorah to be in a box labeled OFFICE."
So on the last night of Chanukah, you are bound and determined to find your menorah because the virtual one just isn't enough anymore, and besides, you're having dinner at Heidi's tonight and Sorena will want very much to light the candles for you. (Last year I discovered there's no such thing as lighting the candles with me, oh, no, she must light them herself. I yielded to the superior persuasive powers of an eight-year-old, now nine and with even more superior powers of persuasion.)
And finally, with a spark of the determination that made this country what it is to day, you set out to the spare room and go through each and every box in the room, the open ones, the unopened ones, looking through the books, finding the gold coin that you hid in the teddy bear's hat and forgot about until after your brother packed it away (so that now your gold Constitution set inherited from Dad is worth about $200 more), finding The Joys of Yiddish and your mini-encyclopedia and the Webster's Collegiate Dictionary and even, treasure of treasures, the Garicature you've been looking for for so many months you've forgotten how long. (That's a caricature of me that Gary Stavella, the cartoonist for The Montclarion while I was editor, made at my request. I've wanted to put it on my logo ever since I remembered it existed, and now will bring it over to the synagogue to scan and put up next week. Wahoo!) However, after searching through every single box in the spare room, as well as the one marked "fragile" and giving you hope as you found large, squarish packages wrapped in newspapers, you stop, frustrated and saddened, thinking that your menorah is gone forever.
And then you go through the open boxes in your bedroom one last time, and unbelievably, there is the menorah. And even more unbelievably, there are the two CDs that you'd been looking for to return to Irongall, in a box you'd already searched. And so, clutching the treasures, you finally get cleaned up and have a breakfast so late that it is now lunch.
All right. Pictures of Sorena lighting the candles tonight, due later or tomorrow.
Don't you just love a happy ending? permalink
Via Laurence Simon, a San Francisco co-op grocery is boycotting Israeli goods, and San Francisco-area Jews are boycotting the co-op. In a fairly hilarious story, the clueless employees whine about how much it hurts to have people be mean to them.
Could that be because some people think boycotts of Israeli products are thinly-disguised anti-Semitism? I'd say I feel your pain, Bradley, but, well, I don't.
And check out this story that ran the day before the one above:
Both articles were in the SF Chronicle. Could it be? Is the tide turning?
Between the Concordia pro-Hillel Chanukah rally and the two stories above in the heart of Loony Left-Land, I am incredibly heartened. Keep this up, and I'll eventually be able to go back to just writing funny stuff. permalink
So sue me, I like hyperbole from time to time. Cherish this account:
And the icing on the cake: Samer Elatrash, Palestinian "activist" and CSU Vice-President, was arrested for breaking the terms of his parolewhich sprang out of his arrest for the Netanyahu speech debacle. Sometimes, just sometimes, I think maybe God is keeping an eye on things.
And on that note: Seventh light.
Harold L. sent me this link to "Independent Woman - played by kittens." Looks like the searcher wasn't looking for the Viking kitties after all. But go to Rathergood.com and check out all the silly Flash videos. Good for what ails you!
About half a dozen people, including Joanne Jacobs, knew that "L.S./MFT" meant "Lucky Strikes Means Fine Tobacco." Funny, I'd mixed up the last word and thought it meant "Means Fine Taste." I must be subconsciously thinking about smoking again. Four years, seven months, 2 days. Sigh. I was dreaming about smoking last week. I guess that's the only way I'll be smoking these days.
I forgot to credit Damian Penny with tipping me off to the latest Concordia outrage.
Alex Bensky sends me lots of letters. I don't have a particular one to quote, but I thought I'd give a shout-out to one of my favorite readers.
Dodd Harris and Charles Kuffner both pointed me to this link, in which a guy who is even more of a Buffy geek than I attempts to figure out exactly how big a village it takes to raise a nest of vamps. It's funny, but bewareit's math!
If Mean Mr. Mustard didn't have grey text on a black background, I'd probably read his blog every day. Because this post on his wanting to become a kittyblogger is effing hilarious.
And now, I'm off to my afternoon's amusement, which is going to include watching the DVDs I rented yesterday before the power goes out (it blinked on and off about half an hour ago, which makes me nervous knowing Richmond's record of power outages in ice storms). permalink
Interesting article in the World Tribune:
And so the pieces fall into place, one by one. American forces are engaging in war games in Kuwait. Saudi Arabia and Turkey agree to let U.S. forces use their bases against Iraq. The inspections are ongoing, and Iraq's declaration to the U.N. is due in three days.
I repeat my prediction: The dark of the moon in January, just as it was 12 years ago, will bring the assault on Iraq. Whether or not Hezbollah takes advantage of that remains to be seen. permalink
We interrupt these weather bulletins to bring you another verse in Canadian anti-Semitism: The Hillel organization at Concordia has been effectively shut down for displaying a pamphlet that was "recruiting" for the IDF. The student union, in an 8-1 vote, voted against the Hillel organization.
Scroll a bit further down the page, and you'll see this:
How about making the subject anti-Semitism at Concordia?
And I am holding back making any kind of comments about Samer Elatrash, the Palestinian "activist," having a name that totally fits. Whoops. Guess I didn't hold back enough.
Damn. There I go, losing control again. permalink
But the heat is so delightful...
It's not even winter, and here's my first snowstorm as a resident of Richmond. The picture's a lot prettier at its full 1.2 meg strength. But my bandwidth (and yours) probably couldn't take such a huge picture.
I'm heading off to bed, as it's just shy of midnight. More pics later, as I see the damage done overnight. They're talking lots of sleet. I doubt I'll be going anywhere. I rented a couple of movies today, and have plenty of food from my NJ trip. In fact, I cooked one of the corned beefs for dinner. Yum. The leftovers are sliced and in the freezer for quick-and-easy lunches. permalink
Yes, still more bizarre search requests for our amusement and edification, not to mention puzzlement, awe, shock, or horror.
vampire incidents in the 21st century: Uh-huh. Can you say, "Get a life"? I knew you could. (PsstBuffy is a television show.)
excerpts from harry potter- animal sacrifice: Hm. Either this guy was with the one above, or it's a fundie looking for a reason to burn the Potter books. Creepy.
cat unable to properly clean himself because of obesity: Whoa, someone found Tubcat! (Ignore that picture on the bottom, it's obvious Tubbo can only lick that one small portion of his chest.) By the way, don't be telling me my cat is fat after seeing this guy.
cat intestine: What was left of Tubcat after he ate that last thin mint. Hm. I think there's a box of Junior Mints in the closet...
independent woman - sung by kittens: I think you want these kittens, and the Immigrant Song.
"make his day" rottweiler picture: This one's for Mr. Misha.
hr andrea hairpiece: Andrea, is someone trying to tell us something about you?
barney fife goatee: Now that's just plain creepy.
Middle East and Cold Eeze lozenges: I don't know what's weirder, that someone was searching for that, or that they found my site with that phrase.
pictures of changing rights and responsibilites of muslim women: I'm guessing this particular search brought back zero pages.
medieval sex pics: Speaking of Muslim women in those sexy burqas....
pictures of fasces: Sicko searches with typos. I love getting those.
e-mail addresses of farmer given by God in australia from november 15 2002: Umhuh? God's giving out email addresses? And on my birthday? Is that why I'm getting so much Nigerian spam these days? Hey! God! Cut it out!
willy wonka and the holocaust: Okay, this one is just too effing weird to even comment. Naaaah. Here we go: Ohthose poor Oompa-Loompas. permalink
Readers have asked me to put up a tip jar, but I haven't yet done so. I don't have one for a number of reasons. The monthly costs of hosting my site aren't that burdensome that I need help with them. I don't really want to open a PayPal account. Also, I think the tax hassle will outweigh any money I may get. I've freelanced for many years, and know a fair amount about the complexity of income tax forms. No, thanks. Been there, done that. And finally, well, this weblog ain't for sale. I mean, sure, other people are welcome to ask for contributions for their weblogs, and I think no less of them for it, but for some reason, if I took any money for writing these posts, I'd feel beholden to the people who were paying me. That may seem completely irrational to you, but it's the way I've felt since I first started thinking about putting up a tip jar.
On the other hand, when Lair posted a few days ago thanking a reader for sending him something from his Amazon Wish List, it got me to thinking. Gifts aren't money. They're sort of like a thank-you note, only they last longer and you can even play with some of them, depending on what's on your list. So I http://www.amazon.com/o/registry/2F82J98GA5HKDpicked out a few items, and we'll just see what happens. You may notice the list is heavy on the Lemony Snicket. I've just been introduced to his works and find them hilarious. I've only read the first onelistened to it, actually, as I bought the audiobook for Sorena and then borrowed it from her later onbut I've heard snatches of a few subsequent novels while driving with Heidi and Sorena, and have fallen in love with Mr. Snicket's work. I never tire of reading good children's books. I probably never will.
Unfortunately, the Jeep spare tire cover that I want isn't available via Amazon. Ah, well. I can get it myself.
By the way: Sixth light.
My pal Dolly sent me this link to a Buffy survey. I dunno, it's kinda long and complicated, and do I really want to be that much of a Buffy fan? I probably won't fill it out, but hey, you guys are welcome to do so.
On the other hand, how much of a Buffy geek am I? I know that the current season's Big Bad, the First Evil, first showed up in the season three episode "Amends," written by Joss Whedon. So last night, I was going through my tape of it (soon to be taped over with Angel eps, as season three is due out on DVD next month), and I transcribed this conversation between the First Evil and our hero:
Leaving aside the extremely funny comebacks, check out what First said. And remember that instead of fighting, it just turned into a weird-looking giant bat-like demon and disappeared. That was never exactly explained, although I suspect that when First said this season that it was tired of the balance between good and evil, I think it was the beginnings of an explanation. Or, as Dark Willow might say: Tired of rules. Breaking them now.
Sigh. So I'm a Buffy geek. But I'm still not gonna take that survey. permalink
Michael sent me an email about a couple of Christmas parody posts, but I got the biggest laugh out of this one: Seems there's a serial flasher terrorizing northern Virginia. Maybe Chief Moose should get the team out again.
Charles Johnson has his usual gaggle of articles guaranteed to make the top of your head blow off. Here's one where an American Muslim declares that he feels like a Jew. (Yeah, I know, it's disgusting. But that's the Islamist mission: To expropriate all of the language of anti-Semitism, and apparently now the concepts as well.)
Charles also did a little research on MPAC, the organization suddenly criticizing Saudi donations to American Muslim groups. He found an interesting transcript of their spokeswoman debating Daniel Pipes, discussing the video of the three-year-old Saudi girl calling Jews "apes and pigs." Sarah Eltantawi insists that in spite of the interview with the child being on Saudi [state run] television, it was representative of the extreme fringe. Yes, because everyone knows that when a dictatorial government runs the television stations, they allow anyone and everything to air without any sort of oversight whatsoever. Uh-huh. Just like the Egyptian government had no say in their station running the update of the Protocols of the Elders of Zionwhoops, sorry, "Rider Without a Horse." (Perhaps they should really title that piece, "Anti-Semitic Land Without a Jew." But if they set that sort of precedent, they'd have to change the name of an awful lot of the world's nations.)
Attention all stupid people (Intelligent people can skip to the next entry): Any email you get from someone in Africa claiming to offer you millions if you'll only give them your bank account number is a scam to steal your money. Do not respond; do not think it is real, and especially don't give them your real phone number to contact.
There. Now perhaps my mailbox will get fewer Nigerian email scams. permalink
You know, half the problem I'm having these days is that I get an essay subject in my head, and I start composing it thereespecially, when, say, driving to or from New Jerseyand then I sit down to write it, and it just refuses to jell. (Gel? I never could tell how to spell that.) Well, that, and the fact that I'm so aggravated by what I've just read, or so tired when I start to write, that I wind up wasting my time even trying to begin.
I've got to stop that.
In the meantime, Fifth Light it is.
Cinderellabloggerfeller did exactly what I did (at first reflex) on the Rittenhouse delinking post. But I spiked mine and posted this instead. (Found it via Dr. Frank, and now I know why he's been sending traffic my way.) His is pretty funny. Maybe I'll dust mine off, someday. And scroll up to this one, too. Very funny.
Ollie Abbot runs Ahmed & Mohammed's Hideout: what he calls a "humor / parody / satire site exploring Islamic extremism and its coverage in the national media." I found it because he links to a couple of pieces of mine, and went exploring. Anyone who lists my stuff above the Onion's is okay in my book, but check out his original comic strips, especially the one titled "Truth Hurts." Wicked funny.
Since I'm on a theme here, and I haven't mentioned Laurence Simon in a few days, let's link to him, too. He's got a post that you'd think I might disagree with, as I am fond of and believe in useless rituals and ceremony, but there are a few reasons why I see no reason to post an extended, point-by-point essay on why Lair is an ass to think that way. First of all, he isn't. It's his opinion, and his freedom to choose whether or not he is religious. Secondly, Osama would line us both up against the wall and shoot us, without asking which of us does or doesn't go to synagogue. And lastly: Pointless arguments may be what other weblogs are made of, but here at yourish.com, we only go for pointless arguments if they're funny. Or if they rhyme. (You didn't know that was a rule of mine, did you? I started it after the Great Sexism Debate. That's right, my next post on sexism will have to come out in rhyming couplets. Unless I change the rules. I'm a great admirer of Calvinball.) permalink
I'm back, and the trip south was much easier than the trip north, as I knew it would be, what with leaving on a Monday morning after rush hour instead of stewing in the return traffic on Sunday. Alas, Larry G.'s bagels were left behindI couldn't get to a bagel place and keep to my schedule. Sorry, Larry, but Rocco was out on Saturday and back this morning, and when a woman has to choose between being able to go to her favorite hairdresser and getting a friend bagels, wellneed I continue?
The drivers were much better this time around, although the winner of the Asshole Driver of the Day award goes towho else?a New Yorker. Some old guy was hogging the left-hand lane on the NJ Turnpike down in the two-lane section, and refusing to move over. The second time I flashed my lights at him, he flashed his back at me. And still wouldn't give over the lane. Idiot. New Yorkers and their once-a-week driving skills are a menace to the tri-state area. Yeah, I'm talkin' to you, Diane. (Yeah, she's back, and her blog ispink? What the eff is up with that?)
I also missed an ostrich dinner over at Lynn's place. Huh. I thought she was kidding when she said she was having ostrich. I might have left NJ a day earlier if I'd realized ostrich was on the menu.
No, not really. Geez. All I'd be able to think of was the ostriches in the Swiss Family Robinson, or all the ones I've seen in zoos. Anyway. Check out this post by Lynn, in response to someone who has had a major mad on for her for months. (Dude, take a chill pill, you'll give yourself a fit of apoplexy if you keep that up.)
So yes, I am home, and yes, there is much catching up to do (I know, I know, email backup!), and yes, there are many, many outrageous things to read and react to. But I think instead, I'm going to try to relax and get rid of Stage Three of The Cold That Would Not Die (I'm becoming more and more convinced this is a sinus infection that will not give up, and may actually go to a doctor before long), then restock my fridge and do a bit of shopping tomorrow before class and the Chanukah party.
And speaking of Chanukah: Fourth light. (Now if only I could remember which box I packed that menorah in...)
Well, it's my last night back in NJ for the holidays. It's been a busy weekend of meeting friends and family for lunches and dinners and Uno games with, of course, a side trip to my favorite kosher butcher shops to load up on the good corned beef to bring home.
Today was simply an afternoon at my brother's, Thanksgiving leftovers for dinner, and more Uno. It reminded me how much fun you can have when you turn off the television set and just do something else for a change, though we never were big on sitting around the television at the Yourish family get-togethers.
There are the little extras, too, like asking my brother for a ratchet so I can put my license plates on and dump my temporaries, and having him do it for me instead. Or having Mom pay for the corned beefs as a Chanukah present, or stocking her fridge with a six-pack of Coke in the bottle and a package of my favorite chocolate-covered creme wafers (diet? What diet?).
I think you can understand why blogging was fairly light these last few days: Holidays with the family, most of whom I haven't seen since August.
However, I didn't get a chance to do this, so I'd best catch up on all three: Here's a rerun of my virtual menorah from last year. Tomorrow, you'll just get the fourth light.
Happy Chanukah to my fellow celebrants and to anyone else who would like some extra holiday wishes. (I should spell it "Hanukah," but old habits die hard.)
Last week's blogs are archived. Looking for the Buffy Blogburst Index? Here's Israel vs. the world. Here's the Blogathon. The Superhero Dating Ratings are here. If you're looking for something funny, try the Hulk's solution to the Middle East conflict, or Yasser Arafat Secret Phone Transcripts. Iseema bin Laden's diary and The Fudd Doctrine are also good bets if you've never been here before.