This blog is a no-Israel-bashing zone (click for explanation)
And it's a twofer, that rarest of cat pics. They usually don't stay very near each other when they're outdoors. They have two very different personalities. Tig is content to sleep outdoors, where Gracie philosophy is "Hunt or be hunted." She doesn't close her eyes. Too many potential monsters that can eat cats. And too much prey. Last week, she kindly brought me a five-lined skink. She chased it underneath my computer backpack. Then she got upset when I made it leave the apartment. So upset that she brought another lizard in the next day, which pretended it was the cord to my floor lamp. As I was passing the lamp, I glanced down and thought, "Huh. The cord is broken." Then I realized that the cord had four legs. I had to catch it and let it outside, as the living room is sunken and I don't think lizards do steps very well.
Of course, Tig could not be outdone, so on the same day I got the skink, he brought home a baby starling that had fallen from its nest. Alive, of course, though I'm sure it died soon after I put it out where Tig couldn't get it. I looked for the nest. I couldn't find it. Oh, well. It's not Tig's fault the thing fell out of its nest. I felt bad, but what can you do? Yeah, I know you can nurse them, but, well, so not interested in that. Nature is harsh, and starlings aren't kittens. Or puppies. Now if I found one of those that had gotten taken from its mother, that would be a different story.
In fact, when I was thirteen, my cat got distemper while she had a littler of two-week-old kittens. I bottle-fed them for a week while she was at the vet's, and for another week until her milk came back. Boy, was I glad when that happened. My brothers helped the first day, and after that brought their friends around to see the amazing task of Meryl feeding three kittens at once. I held one in each hand, and the third one I fed by holding a bottle with my feet. I couldn't stand hearing them cry while they waited to be fed, and there were three of them and only one of me. So I improvised. I sat on the floor with my legs stretched out and balanced the kitten near my ankles. I got pretty damned good at it, probably because the kittens didn't move once they found the source of the milk.
I wonder if my brothers were smart enough to charge for the sight. Y'know, I used to yell at them when they brought their friends to see, and they'd say, "Why should we help? You've got it covered."
I think I'm still mad at them for it. Hang your heads in shame, brothers.
Wow, that was some digression. Fluffy kitty pictures and a kitten story. There, you got your money's worth today. Oh, wait. This blog is free. Damn.
permalink | |
You are getting sleepy.... Y'know, I don't want to write grumpy news briefs. I want to do nothing but post fluffy kitty pictures, I think. Except that would be, like, work. Maybe later. I am quite tired. I drove through a monsoon last night, trying both not to drive off the road and not fall asleep, which also would have resulted in driving off the road. I passed several cars and one truck that had driven off the road, which made me even more eager not to do what they had done. I am glad to report that I made it home without falling asleep or driving off the road, and went to bed directly after getting home without falling asleep or driving off the road. And then I fell asleep, but did not drive off the road.
Squirrels: The new woodpeckers? So Monday morning, I am awakened at 7:30 in the morning by a scratching noise. I get out of bed and listen, and discover that it is coming from inside the wall. It is a new squirrel, chewing a nest. Apparently, the new squirrel is wholly unconcerned by the rotting corpse of its, oh, I dunno, sister, brother, child, aunt, or uncle. Let us say uncle. So it's ignoring Uncle Seymour, turning to wormfood before its little squirrely eyes, and digging around him to make my walls more homelike. So I call maintenance, and they send out Roof Maintenance Guy, who turns out to be an Asian with a very thick accent. Mind you, I'm quite good with accents, and even I had trouble understanding Roof Maintenance Guy, though I was getting the hang of his accent by the end of our conversation. He looked inside the attic, found no holes large enough for a squirrel to get in (and how much did the phrase "no holes large enough for squirrel" bother me? Yeah, a lot), could find nothing up by the gutters, and informed me that he had already checked around the back. The only ingress was the hole where the cable goes into the second floor, which Roof Maintenance Guy declared to be too small for squirrels, but offered to cover up. All I could think of was that the squirrel was still in my walls, and that covering the hole would cause him to die, which would cause that stink again, and, horrified, I said, "No, no, if it's too small for a squirrel to get in, don't cover it up."
So Roof Maintenance Guy left, and I was left wondering what the hell I was going to do about the squirrel eating away my walls.
He woke me up at 7:30 sharp on Tuesday, too. Oh, and this morning. I can see I may not be needing an alarm clock much longer.
Cats are not always cute: Tig has a new trick. He lies down and drinks water, and decides that the water bowl is not close enough to him. So he pulls it with his paw. Which causes it to spill over, because I use a couple of old Tupperware bowls that are nice and deep and hold a lot of water. He's done it three times this week. I think it's time to get one of those level bowls that most cats and dogs drink water from.
Fluffy kitty pictures: Later. I have some pretty good shots of Tig in his new nest, and I may even have managed a decent twofer (they're so rarely together, or even close enough to get them in one shot outside). News later, too. I'm quite tired this morning. But at least I didn't drive off the road.
permalink | |
Changed the Jeep top this morning, and I'm going up to DC this afternoon and evening. Back later.
Gee, that's so not a stretch to believe of this man who said:
So, the upshot?
I say keep him the hell out, but then, I tend to hold a grudge.
permalink | |
A bunch of Hamas terrorists were setting up mortars to fire at Gush Katif. They got four off. And then the IAF tossed a Hellfire their way.
Once again, the Jewish Double Standard applies. Firing at civilians is "retaliation" for killing terrorists.
It's good to know that the AP bias remains unchanged. Let's look at the Jerusalem Post's explanation of what happened:
Back to the AP:
Those "sporadic flare-ups" include a suicide bombing in Tel Aviv that murdered five. And do a search on "what truce" or "what cease-fire" on my site, and you'll find out how "sporadic" the violence has been. That is to say, terrorist attacks are happening every day now.
Back to the Post:
Back to the AP:
What violent incidents have been rare? Oh, that's right. There hasn't been a missile fired at a terrorist since the truce was declared.
But a suicide bombing isn't considered a violation of the calm. Nor are mortar attacks on civilians. I'm just sorry the IDF didn't get all of the mortar boys.
By the way, more mortars have been fired since this incident. Perhaps the IAF should simply patrol the area for a while and fire off a few more hellfires.
permalink | |
Exactly who is toast again?
permalink | |
Stay the hell out of our holy city: Moonbat ex-Malaysian Prime Minister Mahathir, the creep who spewed anti-Semitism at the 2003 OAS conference, has been denied entrance to Jerusalem. (Hat tip: Joel G.) Glad to hear it. Guess if you want to pray at a Muslim holy site, you should probably not piss off the Jews that control access to it by advocating their destruction.
But wait, there's more!
Well, this is the man who said "We cannot fight them through brawn alone. We must use our brains also. "Hey, ya never know. He might have been trying to smuggle something in. It's been known to happen, Jew-haters on diplomatic passports bringing in weapons to kill Jews.
Aw. I feel bad. Okay, no, not really.
Think about it: You're the prime minister of
But the palestinians only want peace! A new poll shows that 50% of palestinians are still just fine with suicide bombs murdering Israeli civilians.
Charming. I'd love to see the results of a similar poll asking Israeli citizens if they think it's okay to target palestinian civilians. What a difference a culture makes.
Speaking of Jew-hatred: The supposedly changed palestinian TV broadcast this message of Jew-hatred:
Someone needs to explain to me how the palestinians are only upset about Israel's policies, and don't hate Jews, because I'm just not seeing it.
Terrorists and politics: Barry Rubin says Hamas' victory in the palestinian elections is a disaster for peace.
permalink | |
I screwed up my index.php file. I keep trying to replace it with the original files, but don't seem to be succeeding. If there's anyone out there who's pretty good at WP, could you email me and help me out here? My usual adviser is stuck at work, doing, like, real work that he gets paid for.
permalink | |
British media bias watch: Found one that Kav can't pick apart, in an article in the Times Online on the current rise in Israeli tourism. The headline of the artice is "The tourists are back, the restaurants are open. How long can this last?" (Oh, that's a positive headline.) (Hat tip: my brother Eric)
The paragraph equates Israel capturing suicide bombers with IDF forces going into palestinian towns to, well, capture suicide bombers. And the latter is presented as a reason for mistrusting Israel's motives. Uh-huh.
The school of bombs: Four palestinians were captured in Iraq.
Because when it comes to killing innocents, you just gotta go with the experts.
What truce, part infinity: An anti-tank rocket was fired at a really dangerous group of construction workers. A paletinian was shot to death after pulling a knife on IDF soldiers at a checkpoint. And oh, yeah, the PA is broadcasting tons of anti-Semitic programming. More on that later.
The difference between reporters: Tires are apparently roadblock tools (and really smelly ones, ew, they're burning them) for the anti-Gaza pullout protesters. A JPost reporter discovered a cache near their offices. And notified the police, as opposed to, say, AP reporters who go along with terrorists and win pulitzers for catching photgraphs of terrorists murdering innocents. But hey, everything's equivalent, right?
Disarming the murderers: In this Telegraph article on how Abbas is failing at his attempt to disarm terrorists, proof that irony is not dead:
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 is also a good bet if you've never been here before.