Just days from the Jewish Chanukah, the Arabs who call themselves Palestinians are preparing to celebrate a modern miracle of their own, as they struggle to make their pretend democracy look real—lest the bundles of cash from their Western supporters should dwindle or, god forbid, stop altogether:
On Jan. 1, Mamoud Abbas, the so-called president of the Arabs who call themselves Palestinians, will begin the 11th year of his reign. Uh, make that the near-tripling of his first 4-year term of office. What Obama and Netanyahu may only dream about, Abbas does.
“So the legend is that there was only enough corruption, incitement and farce to last four years…” explained local historian Yoni K. as he looked for sufganyot and potatoes in the Shuk Ha Carmel. “But through a little luck and maybe even a miracle, his four year term has lasted ten years and counting!…”
Now that’s achievement. So what if the so-called president of the AWCTP is a little late in leaving office, or even in attracting a rival suicidal enough to oppose him. Stability. That’s the ticket, especially when you’re busy running a knifing intifada battle campaign. Stability. Yes ma’am.
Via Times of Israel.
I’m sure the gullible are anxiously awaiting the new federal dietary guidelines due out by the end of the year. The dwindling number of believers in Big-Daddy government, that is.
“Many Americans have lost trust in the science behind the guidelines since they seem to change dramatically every five years. In February, for example, the Dietary Guidelines Advisory Committee declared that certain fats and eggs are no longer the enemy and that cholesterol is ‘not considered a nutrient of concern for overconsumption.’ This, after decades of advising Americans to ‘watch their cholesterol.’”
As one who never stopped eating eggs, nor ever ate low-fat anything, and never paid the least attention to his so-called cholesterol numbers–over the protest of most doctors who provided them–I can only laugh.
I figure it’s a faulty sight picture. I’d say the sights were off except that they’re fixed, so that’s impossible. Last week I hit the head of my paper Jihadi four times out of six with our .38 Smith & Wesson police special revolver.
Today at our weekly target shoot at Red’s in South Austin, I had trouble getting all six in the area over his right shoulder. Sheesh.
Mr. B. was likewise challenged by the .38 and our Ruger semi-auto .22 pistol with his aiming points of the center mass and diamond targets. I was more successful with the .22, but by all rights it ought to translate to the .38 and it didn’t. Two steps forwards and one back, quoth Mr. B. Sounds about right.
One bright spot: four nubile college girls showed up to talk about possibly renting a Glock and having at the targets for the first time. After some instruction of course. Red’s is, after all, the home of the Austin branch of the Sure Shots, the Women’s Pistol League of Texas.
“You mean we get to hold it?” one of them squealed as the clerk went to fetch their prospective 9mm. As the bumper stickers say: Don’t mess with Texas women.
Do not fail to biggerize (Mr. B.’s logical preference over embiggen) for detail.
The wind chill, that is, somewhere around 30 at dawn today with a light rain. Which is about 40 degrees below what it was around noon yesterday, when I was the prisoner of a car dealership while trying to get Mrs. C.’s Altima safety inspected before updating its registration.
Had earlier discovered the battery was dead (after months of sitting in the garage unused) and so had to wait for AAA to arrive and replace it. Then, after almost two hours at the dealership, I was informed that the safety inspection could not be completed.
Seems Nissan’s new-fangled (well, 2007 in this case) computer system can’t set itself and its multiple safety systems anew after a battery change until about 60 miles have rolled over the odometer. Ain’t automotive progress just wonderful?
At least we haven’t had any flooding yet. But it’s supposed to keep raining all day.
Another holiday, another flood. Looks like. Heavy rain started around 2 a.m. and has continued off and on. Our goofy gutters are overwhelmed, as usual. I expect to see the back forty’s waterfall materialize before long. Good thing the sandbags are still in place from Halloween. A strong El Nino will prompt that.
At least it will take Mr. B.’s mind off the Luby’s Thanksgiving disaster. Food wasn’t very good. Like a school lunchroom, Mr. B. said, and you can imagine how a high schooler feels about school lunchrooms. Its only virtue was that it was cheap and the pie was good. For Xmas, it will be Threadgill’s for sure.
Yep. His Earness finally has listened to reason. He’s demilitarizing the police. Officer Friendly will no long seem to be on a war footing everytime he takes to the streets in numbers of more than two.
“Items on the prohibited list include armored tracked vehicles, weaponized aircraft and vehicles, .50-caliber firearms and ammo, bayonets, and camouflage.”
It would be better to say goodbye to the MRAPS as well. It probably won’t be goodbye to the helmets and black uniforms, nor all of the automatic rifles (the s0-called “machine guns” of gun-ignorant reporters and editors). But, in general, our Barry Hussein is giving the police back their civilian look and role.
Which some of them won’t like, of course. They like playing soldier. But it really is all to the good. Maybe now they can start to reclaim some of the respect and even love their military appearance has cost them.