This is what I get for checking Technorati. I find a quote that says something about someone having a tattoo of me on their ass, do a major doubletake, and simply have to find out what on earth that reference means. So I go here, and find out the price of not going back to a comment thread that mentions me.
To admit or not to admit: I think I shall admit.
Spathic put up a post of links to some folks, and I sorta didn't get it, and didn't put my cursor over the link to see who she was talking about, which means, er, I didn't know that I was the Kosher Killa, or that, well, I'm Kosh. I was kinda wondering what she was talking about. That'll teach me to blog drunk.
I am going through Instalink withdrawal. I haven't sent Glenn a letter in a while, and the ones I sent last month just went into the black hole of "Thanks, but no thanks" links. So the month of August gave me the first pure look at what my visits are like without an Instalanche. They're pretty steady, and if only I could find the piece of paper on which I wrote my totals and averages, I could pass that information along to my readers. But it seems to have disappeared, and, well, it's a pain to do it again. Suffice to say that there are still a whole lot of you that didn't contribute to Magen David Adom for the Blogathon, and could, and if you did, we'd have our ambulance.
And by the way, a new Lemony Snicket book comes out in less than two weeks, and yes, it's on my wishlist. When last we left our intrepid orphans, two of them were hurtling down the mountain in a runaway train, while the third was in the wicked hands of Count Olaf. Good Lord, can they survive!? (Talk about your cliffhanger endings....)
LT Smash and Mrs. Smash arrive in Richmond on Monday. We're meeting for dinner that night, breakfast the following morning (they chose IHOP over Waffle House, go figure), and I'll show them around town Tuesday a bit. I'm going to try to find the dry stone pyramid in Hollywood Cemetery, I think. It really is so bizarre as to be surreal. I mean, a pyramid as a monument to the Civil War dead? Sure, that's exactly what I think of when I think American war memorial. Not. permalink
The junior Jew-haters are really, really mad, and they're going to stamp their feet and hold their breath until they turn blue, or something.
Excuse me while I guffaw here. Feel free to join in. Ah, there is nothing so dramatic as a teenager who thinks s/he's not being listened to. Really, folks, our entire society has been attacked because Rutgers canceled this conference. Who knew?
Oh, the horrors! The shame! A pro-Israel program is going to be held at Rutgers. But I guess that's not free speech or the right to free expression and assembly, because NJ Solidarity doesn't agree with it.
Well, yeah, they should actually. They're strident, tiresome, wrongheaded, and stupid. But they won't be silenced, because this is America. We have a Constitutionally-guaranteed right to make idiots of ourselves. (NJ Solidarity has become expert at showing us that.)
I'm guessing that former shit-for-brains scientologist, Charlotte "Hates" Kates, the leader of NJ Solidarity, is not a happy woman this weekend.
Upon sober reflection, this isn't enough.
My husband will also have to clean up dead birds on the patio and, in fact, prevent my cats from ever bringing them in the apartment in the first place.
No exceptions. permalink
It isn't bad enough Tig caught and killed a sparrow last month. Today, he came home with a robin. And of course, it was alive.
It's pouring out. I let him out figuring he'd come right back in. Somehow, he found a really stupid robin, grabbed it, and brought it in the apartment to show me. Dripping blood. And still alive.
Can you say, "Ew"? I knew you could. I grabbed him and tried to escort them both out of the house without having him drop the bird, because all I could see was a bird flying around and dripping blood all over my apartment. We made it to the patio door without his letting go of it, and then I grabbed a plastic bag and pushed it outside, as I didn't want to see it expire, either. Poor thing died in a matter of minutes, of course.
I think Tig is going to stay indoors now, period. You'd think he'd at least go after the pest birds, like the starlings out front that keep trying to build their nest in the rain gutters, or the woodpecker that woke me up all those mornings. But no, he picks a harmless couple of breeds like sparrows and robins.
I have so lost my appetite for dinner tonight. I was going to have chicken. permalink
You all know that one. "Everything comes in threes," people say. (You know, I amost typed that "threee," and when you think about it, three should have three e's.)
John Ritter died unexpectedly today. Johnny Cash died today. The Law of Threes requires that an entertainer named John dies by midnight tonight.
I'm willing to bet two thousand dollars, for real, that this will not happen. Hell, I'd bet five thousand dollars.
Any takers? Or are all my readers smarter than that?
(If only we could rename Arafat John, and give him a TV show today.) permalink
How do they keep finding stones up there? Do they effing stockpile them or something?
So howcome after all these weeks they're suddenly dropping rocks on Jews again?
Wow, what a shock to hear that. In the meantime, let's check into other reaction to the Israeli Cabinet's (rather stupid) decision to expel Arafat:
How is it their noses don't fall off from all the lies? Like they don't strike everywhere already?
Why do I think the decision is stupid? You can see why already. They voted to expel, but won't do it. So Arafat gets to play the martyr and get the world's attention on him again. And frankly, he needs to be killed. Drop a bomb on the muqata, get Arafat and all 200 terrorists hiding out with him. That would take care of the terrorist infrastructure quite nicely.
Carolyn Glick is right. Israel needs to take major steps against the PA terrorists, who are killing Jews with relative impunity. War was declared three years ago. It's time for Israel to take off the gloves. Unless, of course, they're waiting for the fence to be completed first. Because that's the only explanation I can come up with as to why they're not targeting Fatah, Tanzim, and Al-Aqsa as well as Hamas. They're all murderers. permalink
Last night, my synagogue hosted Moshe Fox from the Israeli Ministry of Information. He talked for about half an hour, then took questions. There were two people there not like the others: Two young men who wore expressions of disdain and no kippa. (The talk was held in our sanctuary, and men, even non-Jews, wear kippot as a gesture of respect.) One of them listened the whole time with crossed arms and a bored expression. The other wore a black Che Guevera beret, and raised his hand to ask a question. "Five bucks he has a pro-palestinian question," I told the congregant sitting next to me.
"You talk about destroying the terrorist infrastructure," Che Jr. said. "How can you destroy the infrastructure when the people are the infrastructure? When they've been raised to be martyrs at their mothers' breasts?"
Mr. Fox told him that weapons needed to be confiscated and terrorists arrested. Che Jr. wasn't satisfied. He asked the question again. He seemed particularly taken with the mother's breast/martyr thing. (Calling Dr. Freud...) Mr. Fox repeated his answer. Che Jr. asked again. The crowd was getting restless. "Stopping incitement," I called out, "is in the road map."
"That's really vague," he said.
I withheld what I wanted to say, as the rabbi and many of the board members of the synagogue were there. Mr. Fox repeated his statement on being able to arrest and disarm the perpetrators of terror, and Che Jr. gave up.
Alas, he left before I could engage him personally. Guess he was fine with trying to trap an Israeli spokesman into saying that the only answer was to roll over three million palis, but couldn't break bread with the enemy. Even if there were Ukrops' brownies involved.
I just had one question I wanted to ask him: "Read Chomsky much?" permalink
Stay tuned. Updating links throughout the day.
Judith Weiss has a ton of links
Lots of links on Vodkapundit.
David Blaine is an idiot. I think he has absolutely nothing on Houdini, as Houdini's stunts involved some level of actual skill, and all Blaine's seem to involve is becoming a modern-day one-man freak show ("Come see the man who lives in a block of ice! Watch the man who doesn't eat! See him cut off his own ear!"). To say that I can't stand the man is deepest understatement. Apparently, I am not alone in my sentiments.
In typical British fashion, what happened to the egg-thrower?
Neither, I presume, was this guy:
A "self-styled modern-day Houdini:" That's because no one who has actually read about Houdini would sink to smearing the man's reputation with such a low comparison. Then again, I really like the drummer's explanation.
Who says Brits are rude? (Well, a lot of people, actually.)
TMI! TMI! Diapers? Ew. I mean, ew! But hey, everyone is enjoying the stunt, right?
Uh-huh. But there's a reason for all this fuss, right?
So what they're saying is that Blaine's basically wasting hisand Londoners'time. Schmuck. permalink
There's a box on the TD Waterhouse main page that doesn't concern stock prices. In it are these words:
Michele isn't the only one remembering.
This observance seems right and fitting to me. permalink
This isn't the first time I've read something like this, but Arafat and some 200 terrorists that stay in the Muqata in Ramallah under his "protection" are responsible for much of the bloodshed we've seen.
Don't confuse the issue with facts, please. The Mossad could give the EU and U.S. State Department a video of Arafat kissing the suicide bomber goodbye, and Reuters would still report that he has no control over the terrorists. I mean, activists. permalink
There are no Israeli civilians, according to most terrorists, because Israel has mandatory conscription. This is how they justify blowing up buses.
Today, Israel dropped a bomb on a Hamas leader's house, killing his son and bodyguard, and alas, only slightlly wounding the mass-murderer who lived there in peace and contentment with his "civilian" family. Or perhaps it is the house that is supposed to be the civilian.
As opposed to targeting buses, restaurants, cafes, pizza parlors, and shopping centers. Because those are all proper, military targets, of coursesince they are targeted by Hamas and the other terrorists.
Once again, my regret here is that the bastard survived the attack. Drop bigger bombs next time.
Finish the fence, Arik. Faster, please. permalink
From Gil, last night:
From Gil, today:
I did not know that frequent Instapundit correpondent Nelson Ascher was posting on Europundits. Actually, I don't believe I'd ever read them before today. Excellent blog; excellent insights.
Nelson says about those who say that anti-Semitism is at its worst level since the 1930s:
Why yes, Nelson, I do think you're heading into conspiracy theory territory, but it's the best entry I've ever seen in that particular area. permalink
I've been meaning to mention Kate's newest meme, The Letter of the Day. It's not just a collection of links. She also creates a description using the same letter. Ya think she may still have some Sesame Street issues?
Spathic had a hard drive crash and needs sympathy. You have mine. Hm. Maybe I should buy another 128 mb flash card from Costco and put my HD backups on it.
See, Kate has a news aggregator. Kelley actuall reads all that stuff. Good Lord.
Did I say "girls"? I think I meant "Gils," too. Because Gil Shtertzer has moved off Blogsplat. He was supposed to be on another break, but he's posting. So hurry up and read before he leaves the country again. permalink
My friend Drew, with whom I used to work when I typeset Billboard magazine, has this to say on Arafish's new appointee:
I knew there was something we could do with that name. permalink
So of course, she's off on some trip somewhere now, so there won't be much updating going on for the next few days, but there are plenty of great pieces to read until she gets back. She has lots of fun with the writers at the Guardian.
This one is even funnier:
Damn, Angie. I'm never drinking a thing while reading your blog, ever again. permalink
So Maintenance Guy (a different one, as I said) comes fairly quickly after my emergency page (a different one, as I said), and tells me that it's the main water pipe from my house backing up, and that the culprits are the pine needles that drop from the trees in front of my building. And behind my building. And all around my building. I don't exactly understand how pine needles from the trees get into my water pipe, but I did see a load of them covered with I-don't-want-to-know as Maintenance Guy showed me a sample. This was after, oh, an hour of snaking the pipe.
I was all set to do minor cleanup today, and major cleanup tomorrow, then Wind Rider gets me all nervous by telling me to be sure to use lots of bleach after I tell him that it seems only the washing machine water backed up, and it was on the spin cycle, anyway. So now I'm paranoid and thinking "Staph infection. I'm doomed." Thanks so much, Wind Rider.
Anyway, there was much use of Pine Sol and bleach, though not together. And for the life of me, I can't find where the dirty water smell is coming from, but I suspect a bunch of plastic bags. Think I'll just go dump them all and start the collection all over again. I have to go shopping tomorrow, anyway.
Of course, it could be my imagination. When I took out the trash and came back, the only thing I smelled in here were cleasers. But I expect I'll be airing out the apartment tomorrow morning. permalink
This one's for Michele.
My how-I-heard-it story is of no matter. It's not very interesting. I left work early, stopped and pick up some extra groceries, talked with neighbors until after dark. What I found far more visceral was the first time I realized what exactly was a strange odor that sometimes permeated Montclair, where I lived at the time.
A few days after the eleventh, maybe the thirteenth or the fourteenth, I was driving across town for lunch. It was another beautiful September day. My car windows were open, and I thought to myself, "Someone has used far too much fertilizer on their lawn."
But it wasn't fertilizer. The wind was coming from the east, and it brought the smell of the remains of the twin towers burning. And though that was the first time, it was far from the last.
My birthday is November 15th. On November 15th, 2001, I went to dinner with friends. We had dinner at a favorite place of mine, Charlie Brown's, in Upper Montclair. As we left the restaurant, Brenda sniffed the air and asked, "What's that awful smell?"
It was the World Trade Center fires, still burning, two months later. Montclair is twelve miles west of New York City. Every time the wind was in the east during the months following September 11th, you could smell the towers burning.
This is what I wrote that night:
Twelve miles west. There's a theater troupe in Montclair named Twelve Miles West. I can no longer think of them, or that phrase, without thinking of the wind coming from the east, bearing the odor of death. permalink
Well, the floor needed washing, anyway.
Got home from my first day teaching religious school, put in a load of laundry, went online, and somewhere during the rinse cycle heard this strange burbling noise. This is not the noise you want to hear when you have a washing machine running. Sure enough, the water was leaking from somewhere into my kitchen floor, via (sigh) the closet that holds the hot water heater, oh, and my kitchen pantry. And this is about 24 hours after I was looking for something in the pantry and saying, "Y'know, you should clean this thing up. Look at all that junk on the floor. Recycle those paper bags. Get rid of all those plastic bags!"
Well, there's nothing on the floor of the closet at the moment, and luckily, the bag of cat food was near its end, and I got it out before the water soaked through anyway. Didn't really lose much other than things that needed to be tossed, although I'm currently drying several towels and sheets (that was my next load), as well as the box I keep my baking things in.
You know what the worst thing is? I can't use the water anywhere in the apartment. I used the downstairs toilet, and more water came out of the closet. I think this is a major pipe thing. This may really suck.
I hope it's just some kind of drain backup.
Well, Maintenance Guy is due to arrive (not the one who took care of Woody Effing Woodpecker; this guy has to work on the plumbing, and that guy was roof only). I'll find out the damage soon enough. permalink
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.