When a Sullivanist Calls

Just another Ron Paul supporter, who claims to know what true conservativism is. Don't think he'll be writing a book though.

Poseur Alert

Really, you couldn't write this stuff. The Ron Paul enthusiast does it all by himself.

Madam Chairwoman Speaks, You Listen Comrade

Well we have an early entry for harrowing read of the month: Our glorious Madame Chairwoman (in waiting) deigned to give the state news outlet an interview covering all things economic, including her plans for restoring "balance" between the central planners in the government and the (dark) "market forces". Madame Chairwoman says:

“If you go back and look at our history, we were most successful when we had that balance between an effective, vigorous government and a dynamic, appropriately regulated market,” Mrs. Clinton said. “And we have systematically diminished the role and the responsibility of our government, and we have watched our market become imbalanced.”

She added: “I want to get back to the appropriate balance of power between government and the market.”

Understanding that Dear Madame's thoughts are much too complicated for a simple member of the rabble class to understand and I hesitate to question her all too obvious wisdom. Yet I wonder, when was the glorious time that she references when we were able to achieve this wondrous "balance"? And how will we measure our "balance" as we approach the optimal state? Will our collective vibrations come into tune, or will we need boot of government to heel the non-conformists? Oh, I do hope Madame Chairwoman shares with us her vision of "balance" and what it will look like for all our comrades!

Naysayers, I know, will point out that this didn't work out so well for other states. Weaklings! They didn't try hard enough! If we must work harder we will! If we must sacrifice to support Dear Madame's vision of "balance" our sweat will water the fertile soils of our motherland until a glorious bounty of "balance" springs forth from this nation like a perfectly formed baby child from mother's ample yet undoubtedly supple loins!

I quake with anticipation. Deliver us now Madame Chairwoman! I beseech thee!

Breaking Business News

In an ongoing effort to cut costs, Quiznos announced the first hiring of a Zombie spokesperson today.

"We're quite pleased with the prospects of the campaign, as the walking dead are willing to work for pennies on the dollar while our competitor is contractually obligated to fork over gazillions to that ex-fatty Jared" said a Quiznos spokesman. "It is a well established fact that the rotting bodies of the undead, while clad in Brooks Brothers business casual attire, can be perfectly presentable while requiring only a fraction of the sustenance that the bodies of living, breathing spokesmen spokesmen require. We expect to be well rewarded by investors who recognize our sharp focus on expenses and our robust bottom line"

Informed that the Zombie diet is primarily the brains of living humans and NOT toasty deli sandwiches, the Quiznos spokesman responded, "We'd prefer it if folks would focus on our new healthy menu selections. Obviously, we'll adjust our approach as we get more feedback from consumers"

In other news, those two other guys in the picture were found dead in their hotel rooms shortly after the announcement. Quiznos, had no comment.

UPDATE: Perfect candidate for new Zombie spokesperson found! No word on Alice's availability yet. Developing....

Cool

I might be the last guy to have seen this, but if not I'd suggest you click on the link. If you like beer, Rube Goldberg and third worlders with nothing better to do...

Nightmare Alley

We made a fantastic discovery this weekend and I thought I'd pass it along to my reader. As I was channel surfing on Saturday night looking for something watchable, I discovered that I have access to a channel called "Retroplex". Apparently these guys show older films - '80's and prior - and the one for that night caught my eye.

Nightmare Alley.

I happen to be a sucker for noirish movies, and this was that kind of film. Typically this categorization calls up images of gun molls, Bogey, Peter Loire and others, but the description for Nightmare seemed a bit different. First, it was about carney's, as in carnival workers who performed on the midway.

Now I'm not typically one to watch a film about carneys, but this had Tyrone Powers in it and the summary described Nightmare as "gritty".

Total understatement.

Nightmare turned out to be a raw, sordid look at what happens to a man and his woman when he is destined for ruin. One of the film's first lines is "how does a man sink so low", and it is also one of its last. Because of this, the ultimate story arc is not hard to figure out, which really doesn't matter since Nightmare is gut wrenching in the way that the character's slide to their obvious oblivion is presented. As far as I know, the raw degradation of the Power's character is unparalleled in any other movie of the period. Don't get me wrong, this is a psychological presentation, not a visual one. As with all good movies of the time, the director manages to show so much, while exhibiting very little.

I watched Nightmare with both Mrs. P and PD1 (PD2 was out at a dance), and occasionally I would look over to see if they were into it as much as I was. Their silence should have told me all I needed to know, but their rapt stares were confirmation that I was not alone. PD1 had to miss the last 20 minutes of the film, and the next morning her first words were, "what happened in the end". Anytime a 15 year old has this reaction to a black and white film from the '40's you know it is good.

I don't know if Blockbuster or Netflix has this one, but if they do get it and you too will be haunted by the words, "how does a man sink so low".

Blood Sport

I've been hunting now for several years. It was something that I took up as an adult, since I never really had a chance as a kid.


Growing up in the suburbs of Chicago, I was a member of the Boy Scouts and this experience was a defining period in my life. I learned to set goals and accomplish them, I was taught how to camp, how to limit my impact on the environment, and I developed an appreciation for the great outdoors.


As an adult, it is hard to find time to get back outside. Work, kid's activities and other distractions of our all too busy life provide plenty of excuses for putting off time to get back to the great outdoors. So when the opportunity to go hunting came up several years ago, I thought maybe this would be a way of getting back to one of the things I used to love. Well, it sure was, but at the time I had no idea how complex an experience this would be.


Hunting, in many ways, can be pretty boring. Goose hunting, for example, requires us to get out early in the morning, set up the decoys, get in the pit and then wait. Sometimes the birds show up, and many times they don't. While I can assure you that I have plenty else to do besides sitting in a hole in the ground on a 23 degree morning in January, there is great knowledge to be learned through this experience regardless of whether I get a shot off or not.


Sitting, there with my companions, scanning the skies for birds and mostly remaining fairly quiet, I've learned quite a bit about this world we live in. Although somewhat color blind, I've seen the many phases of a winter sun rise. Its not at all like a warm weather sun rise as the first eery glow, followed by a spectrum colors that looks more cold than warm begins to take over the sky.


I've learned the birds wake up in a certain order; the ducks are the early risers it turns out. Often arriving over the blind before the sun is even up. The smaller song birds appear next and then, finally, the geese. those lazy bastards, are the last to arrive. Sometimes a full hour later than the other birds.


To successully hunt, it is important to understand how the birds behave. I'd say "how they think" but I'm not sure there is a whole lot of thinking going on there. At any rate, by this time in the season, the geese generally are pretty cautious - a side effect of being shot at for the preceding two months. They'll show up in the sky, see the decoys in the field and perhaps fly by. One guy will do the calling, and I'll man the flag to create the impression of motion on the field, and if we're lucky the flock might turn and come in for a second look.


By this time, I'll put the flag away, but the caller will continue to work the sound. If all looks cool to the geese, they'll line up into the wind and begin a slow, gliding decent into the field. One of the first things that you learn as a hunter, is how limited a shotgun's range really is, and no matter how often I've been out in the field, it always seems like an eternity until the geese get close enough for us to open fire.


Critical to this timing is knowing when the geese start to "cup". This is one of the most beautiful sights in all of goose hunting. As you can see in the picture above, right before the point of no return the geese begin to cup their wings to reduce their speed and lose their remaining altitude. It is at this moment, that we open fire.


This, for me, is the great oxymoronic aspect of hunting. On one hand we must become a full participant in the natural world that has otherwise been removed from our daily lives. We have to understand it, appreciate it and most importantly use it to our benefit. It is impossible to achieve this state with out being deeply aware of its great beauty. On the other hand, we're there to blow a part of it into oblivion.


I tell you all this, because I had an experience this weekend, that illustrates exactly what I am talking about. During a lull in our hunting, a pair of geese found their way over our field. I waived the flag, my buddy hit the caller and before long the two geese were cupping twenty feet away from us. We slid open the top of the blind, and opened fire. Unfortunately, we only hit one of the geese and its companion got away from us.


But then something weird happened. As the hit goose was in its death throws on the ground, the other goose returned to the field, honking crazily. It stayed just out of range, but it circled around, before it flew off to the west. In the pit, we looked at each other and decided that they must have been companions. Kind of a drag.


Then the weird thing happened.


The bird came back. We were preoccupied with some flocks we had spotted on the horizon so we really weren't paying attention until suddenly it just flew in and landed among the decoys. I remarked that we were lucky it wasn't armed because it clearly got the jump on us!


The whole thing was kind of pathetic. The surviving partner just walked among our decoys honking like it was trying to get a response. We did everything to try to get it to fly away. We yelled, tossed a couple stray corn cobs in its direction. It simply would not leave.


Well, it obviously wasn't going to stay in that cold field forever, and the longer it stayed, the more certain I became of my role in nature. Finally, I guess he decided to move on.


As he took off and began to gain flight, I shot him dead.