Category Archives: Scribbles

Rains welcome

The thunderstorms overnight Tuesday into Wednesday were welcome in most places, except where they provoked trouble: power out for a few thousand homes, hail damage, street and creek flooding, emergency rescues, and at least one tornado.

The National Weather Service, whose Internet radar images always seem to go down on these occasions when they’re needed, lost them again right on schedule. Our tax dollars at work. At least they recorded a healthy five three inches of rain at their official downtown gauge (more than five inches out at the airport east of town). Got almost three here at the rancho, northwest of downtown.

The food stamp president

The palace guard media don’t like it when Newt calls Obozo “the food stamp president” but it’s perfectly accurate. Probably why it bugs them so much.

“Participation in the food stamp program…has increased by 44% from 32.0 million in January 2009 to 46.2 million in October 2011, the last month for which data is available…”

Via Instapundit.

UPDATE:  Spengler thinks the Republicans are a pretty safe bet to win back the White House in November.

Unless the stupid party finds a way to lose. In which case, the food stamp increases will continue, until everybody (except Obozo and his cronies) is eating government cheese. He’ll still be playing golf and Mooch will still be on vacation.

Welcome home, Rick

I suppose it was inevitable. Rick Perry was simultaneously too outspoken and too informal for the Democrat-loving, Republicans-must-be-perfect Legacy Media to give an even break. Besides, he was from Texas—a place they are well-known to hate and mock.

One thing the Old Aggie’s short-lived 2011-12 presidential campaign  will be remembered for, however, is this signature line: “Are you better off today than you were $4 trillion ago?”

We might even expect to see possible nominee Romney (aka Mittens or Dudley-Do-Right, the man who’s afraid of his own shadow) use it, at least in some campaign ads. If he’s not too busy acting deferential (like McCain did), running against the Tan Man.

So welcome home, Rick. We’re glad to have you back where you belong. Now I’m for South Carolina winner Newt Gingrich, whose case for the nomination is a good one. Especially because he is not (and never will be) the least bit deferential to Obozo or his palace guards in the media.

Who was Obama’s drug pusher?

I mean, if we have to hear about Newt Gingrich’s love life —after Bad Bill’s blow jobs in the Oval Office, why are NG’s old adulteries even important? (Because he’s a Republican, stupid).

The least ABC and its, heh, correspondent Brian Ross could do is tell us who Barry’s drug pusher was. You know, back in the day when Obozo admits he smoked dope?

Not to mention his ex-girlfriends (including the fabled Vera Baker) and, oh yeah, his hidden college transcripts. And, while we’re at it, let’s hear about Brian Ross’s peccadilloes, too.

Obviously South Carolina primary voters weren’t impressed by ABC’s Republican bashing. Newt: “No more bowing to the Saudi king.”

Mocking Mooch

Is this racist? Sure, any criticism of the Obumbles is, you know. And if you didn’t, the Legacy Media will make sure that you do by the time the national election rolls around in November.

Note the chunky left arm, worthy of a body-builder. This is the sort of thing, I suspect, that SOPA and PIPA ultimately would be used to censor. The Net is so, uh, gauche. Meaning free. For some people it is entirely too free.

Via Simply Jews

Lucky you don’t work at Roosevelt University in Chicago where you can be fired for telling a joke mocking illegal Hispanic immigrants.

Virga: Cities of the Air

A world where free-fall is normal and gravity is a luxury you have to pay for. A world where sunlight is not available to all and even those who have the machines that produce it have to get used to full-dark hours of sun-off with no moonlight. Some even live in full-dark all the time.

Virga, life inside a Fullerene balloon thousands of miles in diameter, on the edge of the Vega solar system, is scifi author Karl Schroeder’s five-book (so far) series of swashbuckling tales. This is steampunk Victoriana where computers and other electronic devices cannot exist—unless a crucial part of the central “sun of suns” is turned off.

Great stuff, truly, though it’s not a future world I would care to actually live in, unlike the future world of Jack McDevitt’s Alex Benedict detective series. Virga’s hard science instructs as the romance entertains and the characters introspect, change and grow.

Well worth your time and money to read the first in the epic and don’t be surprised if you find yourself hooked. Unfortunately, they are fast reads. They go lickety-split. Having finished No. 4, a cliff-hanger, I must now wait until Valentine’s Day to receive No. 5. Sigh.

Evolution: grass eating

Mrs. Charm survived her recent inflamed appendix and her recovery from the surprise surgery has been going well. And she never ate grass (or leaves) to begin with so she doesn’t miss the vestigial organ.

Not that it would help her digest grass or leaves, if she was so inclined, any more than my intact appendix (assuming I even have one; some people don’t) would help me do so now.

When the evolution of, well, evolution made our appendix an anatomical anomaly, it removed the sort of bacteria that once populated it enabling us to digest the cellular structure of grass and leaves in times of famine.

Can’t say I would miss it any more than the vanished tail that once was attached to my tailbone. Ah, but the atrophied muscles that once allowed my ears to swivel every which way, now those I could enjoy having rejuvenated.