October 31, 2005

Coming, Going and All Points In Between

You SBC broadband customers might want to beware: the CEO of your ISP, Edward Whitacre, is thinking of shutting off your access to Google and other handy dandy sites unless they cough up payola for using his "pipes." He wants everyone using his service---customers and internet sites---to pay up as they come and go and make stops in between.

{...}How concerned are you about Internet upstarts like Google, MSN, Vonage, and others?

How do you think they're going to get to customers? Through a broadband pipe. Cable companies have them. We have them. Now what they would like to do is use my pipes free, but I ain't going to let them do that because we have spent this capital and we have to have a return on it. So there's going to have to be some mechanism for these people who use these pipes to pay for the portion they're using. Why should they be allowed to use my pipes?

The Internet can't be free in that sense, because we and the cable companies have made an investment and for a Google or Yahoo! or Vonage or anybody to expect to use these pipes [for] free is nuts! {...}

Mike at Tech Dirt correctly lays the blame for this odious suggestion on the FCC's inhibitions about allowing for market competition:

{...}Notice that the only reason this is possible now is because there's less competition in the broadband space, not more. If there were real competition, SBC would never even dare to suggest that they might cut off a Google, Yahoo or Vonage.

Michael Powell had a huge opportunity to get something done about how the FCC regulated the telecom industry; he had the opportunity to create competition and he didn't do it.

Chickenshit.

Posted by Kathy at 12:08 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Clarifying

Hitch in today's Opinion Journal:

{...}In the absence of any such assertion or allegation, one must be forgiven for wondering what any of this gigantic fuss can possibly be about. I know some apparently sensible people who are prepared to believe, still, that a Machiavellian cabal in the White House wanted to punish Joseph Wilson by exposing his wife to embarrassment and even to danger. So strong is this belief that it envisages Karl Rove (say) deciding to accomplish the foul deed by tipping off Robert Novak, one of the most anti-Iraq-war and pro-CIA journalists in the capital, as if he were precisely the pliant tool one would select for the dastardly work. And then, presumably to thicken the plot, Mr. Novak calls the CIA to confirm, as it readily did, that Ms. Plame was in the agency's employ.

Meanwhile, and just to make things more amusing, George Tenet, in his capacity as Director of Central Intelligence, tells Dick Cheney that he employs Mr. Wilson's wife as an analyst of the weird and wonderful world of WMD. So jealously guarded is its own exclusive right to "out" her, however, that no sooner does anyone else mention her name than the CIA refers the Wilson/Plame disclosure to the Department of Justice.

Mr. Fitzgerald, therefore, seems to have decided to act "as if." He conducts himself as if Ms. Plame's identity was not widely known, as if she were working under "non official cover" (NOC), as if national security had been compromised, and as if one or even two catch-all laws had been broken. By this merely hypothetical standard, he has performed exceedingly well, even if rather long-windedly, before pulling up his essentially empty net.

However, what if one proposes an alternative "what if" narrative? What if Mr. Wilson spoke falsely when he asserted that his wife, who was not in fact under "non-official cover," had nothing to do with his visit to Niger? What if he was wrong in stating that Iraqi envoys had never even expressed an interest in Niger's only export? (Most European intelligence services stand by their story that there was indeed such a Baathist initiative.) What if his main friends in Niger were the very people he was supposed to be investigating?

Well, in that event, and after he had awarded himself some space on an op-ed page, what was to inhibit an employee of the Bush administration from calling attention to these facts, and letting reporters decide for themselves? The CIA had proven itself untrustworthy or incompetent on numerous occasions before, during and after the crisis of Sept. 11, 2001. Why should it be the only agency of the government that can invoke the law, broken or (as in this case) unbroken, to protect itself from leaks while protecting its own leakers?{...}

As they say, go read the whole thing.

This whole thing is such a non-starter, it's amazing. It's typical Dee Cee, I swear. It's as if the dorks who run that town need to have a good scandale once in a while, and if they don't have the makings of a juicy one, well, they'll find one where they can. It's such a B-movie scandale, too. Valerie Plame, the starlet du jour, was not undercover for the CIA, hence no law was violated at her outing. She was a desk jockey, for crying out loud. She also recommended her husband for this gig, so if one were looking for cronyism, this is where you would find it. Never mind that her husband was an incompetent boob. And you have a special prosecutor who's been investigating this thing for two years and only came back with perjury charges on one of the main players. Fitzgerald, apparently, couldn't even get an indictment for conspiracy.

If Scooter Libby perjured himself he should, indeed, pay the price for that. Perjury is perjury is perjury. But to have perjured yourself over this? Come on. That's just stupid. Cheney's got a rep as the evil mastermind of this administration to uphold. That his Chief of Staff would blunder on something so goddamn basic isn't going to help keep the rep intact, ya dig?

Posted by Kathy at 08:49 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Take Your PR Campaign Elsewhere, Chuck

God Save the King!

/sarcasm.

Posted by Kathy at 08:22 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

October 30, 2005

Spent

As in I'm spent. Like a fiver thrust into a stripper's G-String.

Yes, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, your supposition is right: I am still hungover.

The party last night was a whopping good time. Other than the fact that the dee jay SUCKED big time, the ball was a resounding success and a good time was had by everyone. The winners of the costume contest were five guys who had the nerve to don itty bitty speedos, warm up jackets replete with 'DDR' on the back, noseplugs and swim caps to form the East German Swim Team. They carried a flag, spoke German and had a little cheer that they performed in the midst of the party to much applause. They totally deserved to win. But, getting back to the cause of my pain and suffering, on the beverage menu there was this fabulous drink called "The Brain Hemmorhage" that was made with cherry vodka, sweet and sour, and something else, but, for all intents and purposes, said drink was the alcoholic equivalent of crack. Hence, I am hungover.

Blogging will resume tomorrow.

Posted by Kathy at 09:27 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

October 29, 2005

Halloween-ish

If you...

A. Live in the Twin Cities
B. Have been looking for a place to wear that Catwoman/Batman/Random Superhero costume you just happen to have hanging in your closet
C. Have a spare $40 to blow
D. Want to boogie until the wee hours
E. Enjoy the comedic stylings of Miss Richfield 1981
F. Want to meet with and buy your friendly Cake Eater a drink...

You should go here this evening.

Seriously. You should come on down. Mr. H., who's on the board of this here ball, would really appreciate your support.

And, yes, Steed and Peel won out.

Posted by Kathy at 11:35 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

October 28, 2005

Here's a Little Something for the Ladies (And Mr. H.)

Take the jump for a Friday treat.

(Mom, skip right past this one, eh?)

Click on the image for the "eminently fuckable" size

GOTT IN HIMMEL BUT THAT MAN IS HOT!

Posted by Kathy at 12:31 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack

Scaredy Cats

Wow! Forbes is really scared of blogs and bloggers!

Please go and read the whole thing. It's so worth your time if for no other reason than choice quotes like this:

{...}"A blogger can go out and make any statement about anybody, and you can't control it. That's a difficult thing,"says Steven Down, general manager of bike lock maker Kryptonite, owned by Ingersoll-Rand and based in Canton,Mass. {...}

Oh, God Forbid that should ever come to pass! People making statements! It's just as if dogs and cats were getting it on in the backyard! Break out the smelling salts, Mildred, I'm feeling a wee bit faint!

It's hard to tell if this article is actually for real. I have to assume it is, but sheesh. It makes you wonder, doesn't it?

Seriously, though, the hyperventilating, Chicken Little tone of this article is absolutely ridiculous. While I don't doubt that some blogs are strictly attack blogs, that the medium is manipulated by evil-doers and pr hacks alike, and that there are people for whom the words "slander" and "lying" have no meaning, the author, Daniel Lyons, refuses to mention anything good that has come from blogs. There is not one example of something good coming out of blogs that he chooses to list. Blogs are all evil, all the time. I can't even begin to list the ways this shows this man has no idea what he's dealing with. For example:

{...}Even some bloggers see the harm they can pose. "Some people in the blogosphere are too smug about free speech. They'll say it's okay if people get slandered or if people make up fake stuff because in the end the truth wins out," says John Hinderaker, a lawyer in Minneapolis, Minn. who helps run a right-wing blog, Power Line, which hounded CNN's Jordan and CBS anchor Dan Rather. "But I don't think that excuses it."

When Hinderaker published an item saying left-wing bloggers should stop assaulting a White House reporter alleged to have worked as a gay prostitute, his blog brethren went on the assault, publishing his phone number at work and prompting a deluge of harassing phone calls and e-mails. "My secretary was crying" because callers kept swearing at her, he says. "Then we started getting calls at the house. My wife wanted to hire a bodyguard." {...}

Yeah, Powerline simply "hounded" Dan Rather. There was no benefit in keeping a network news anchor honest during a highly contested and partisan presidential election? Mmmhmmm. Sounds exactly like one of Lyons' complaints about blogs. But it would seem as if none of this is relevant to Lyons: he's only interested in WHEN BLOGGERS ATTACK BLOGGERS! Like it was a horror movie from the 1950's or a Dateline special report with Maria Shriver circa 1996. If you were to only listen to Lyons take on the matter, why, that horrible Hinderaker got what he deserved!

Which segues nicely into a sidebar from the article: Lyons goes so far as to publish a DIY "How to Fight Back" manual. You know, what you should do in the event of a blogger leveling a smear campaign against you or your corporation. His suggestions include:

MONITOR THE BLOGOSPHERE. Put your own people on this or hire a watchdog (Cymfony, Intelliseek or Biz360, among others). Spot blog smears early, before they can spread, and stamp them out by publishing the truth.

START YOUR OWN BLOG. Hire a blogger to do a company blog or encourage your employees to write their own, adding your voice to the mix.{...}

But wait, it gets better.

ATTACK THE HOST. Find some copyrighted text that a blogger has lifted from your Web site and threaten to sue his Internet service provider under the Digital Millennium Copyright Act. That may prompt the ISP to shut him down. Or threaten to drag the host into a defamation suit against the blogger. The host isn't liable but may skip the hassle and cut off the blogger's access anyway. Also:Subpoena the host company, demanding the blogger's name or Internet address. {...}

It's laughable how out of touch Forbes is on this. Crikeys. People pay good money to this magazine to find out what's going on in business and this is the product they provide? Sheesh. I'm glad we don't pay for our Forbes subscription; it's a gift from the father-in-law. Because after this I'm not really sure that I would take anything they wrote seriously.

{Hat Tip: Mike at Tech Dirt}

Posted by Kathy at 12:26 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

October 27, 2005

Wham Wham Wham!

That would be the sound of my head hitting the desk repeatedly.

{...}Nor does the 37-year-old share Bond's love of Martinis shaken and stirred.

"I love a Martini straight up. I don't think anybody makes a Martini stirred any more," he said. {...}

It's shaken not stirred, you flipping idiot! NOT shaken and stirred.

(Hat Tip: Ith, who pretty much wrote the same damn post, but it was such an egregious error that I feel the need to pile on.}

Posted by Kathy at 10:45 PM | Comments (12) | TrackBack

It's Official

I am a klutz.

The Ministry of Silly Walks has certified it and will be sending out the certificate stating as much in tomorrow's post.

Posted by Kathy at 01:49 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Who's Your Daddy?

Ahhh, it's Thursday. My favorite day of the week...and time once again for another riveting installment of As The Divas Turn. We're going to get a bit serious with this episode, I'm afraid, as we turn to the topic of paternal rights. We have two questions this week. First, should the father of an unborn child have the right to block the abortion of said unborn child. And second, should a woman who has had an abortion and not told the biological father be liable for damages?

So you'll see that we've got a few doozies on our hands.

Now, it's time for the obligatory bloggy disclaimer. I'm normally one of those people who doesn't touch the topic of abortion with a ten foot cattle prod. I can't stand how this topic turns rational people into lathered idiots by the briefest mention of it. I have yet to see one reasoned debate about any aspect of abortion on any blog, and considering I've been reading blogs for, oh, a good four years or so, that should tell you something, blog years being similar to dog years. It is a topic that raises the passions, so you will perhaps understand that when the topic was raised in group discussion that I was leery of tackling it. I will also admit that I thought long and hard about bailing out and not touching it at all because I don't feel like getting screamed at by trolls. But I haven't bailed on a Divas topic yet, and I don't intend to start now, so all I would ask is that I don't want to have regrets about sticking with it. Don't make me have regrets, ya dig? Do you get what I am saying? You do? Excellent. DAMN THE TORPEDOS!

Ahem.

As to the first question, should the father of an unborn child have the right to block the abortion of said unborn child? Yes, absolutely, is my answer. It takes two to tango, after all. The father of the child should have precisely the same legal rights as the mother. But---and you knew there was a 'but' coming, didn't you?---it's not only one life he would be holding in his hands, but two, mother and child being something of a package deal. Does the father of said child---if we're working under the assumption that these presumptive parents aren't married, nor even committed---take care of both of them for nine months and then ditch the mother after she gives birth? Is he legally allowed to do that? To control her life because that's just the way the biology works? Under our system of laws---and by that I mean the US legal system---this is a moot point. I'm not an expert on these matters, but a woman over the age of majority doesn't need to notify anyone of what she intends to do. Furthermore, she is the sole authority over what happens to her body---and any child she's carrying. In which case the father of said child would be up shit creek.

I find this an interesting question because it seems like an odd, world-turned-on-its-ear, futurama question, even for someone who is as reasonably young as I am at age thirty-four. It sounds like a future where the sexes really are equal, whereas men, today, still, other than through court-ordered child support payments, aren't held responsible for their actions to the same degree that women are. Nor do I think there's been a sea change in attitudes toward single fatherhood since I was younger. The history of male-female relationships is there for all and sundry to see: given the male half of humanity's long history of dumping women they thought suitable for sleeping with, but not for marrying, this is a curious hypothetical situation. Don't get me wrong. I think it's good that some hypothetical man would want to block an abortion. I just find it unusual because the whole situation is set up specifically because men have neglected their duties in this arena. For millenia women were abandoned, vilified and treated like the scum of the earth because they'd had sexual relations out of the bonds of holy wedlock. God help the child born of such a union. It doesn't bear repeating, does it, what it would be like for such a child because it was generally awful? Yet, nothing ever happened to the man in such a circumstance, of course. They got off Scot-free; the system being, after all, rigged in their favor. They made the rules---and of course it was always their word against the woman's when it came to establishing parentage. Women worked around their rules and tried to create options for themselves. It would seem by this hypothetical question as if the men didn't appreciate being left out of it.

As to the second question, should a woman who has had an abortion and not told the biological father be liable for damages, I have no freakin' clue. I would lean toward saying "yes" but, as with all other legal questions I tend to think about the precedent this would set, and I cannot imagine what sort of precedent this would set because my mind just doesn't go that far. I have a feeling that screaming "tort reform" isn't going to help me out here, so I will simply say this: beware where you go and claim liabilty. I could easily see a woman countersuing and asking for damages for pain and suffering due to the abortion she thought she had to have because she didn't feel she could tell the father of child the truth because she feared for her life, etc. Tack on the "loss of consortium" charges and you've got yourself one heck of a countersuit.

One could make the assumption that the only purpose of such a lawsuit would be to punish the mother of the aborted child. In a situation such as this, where most rational people would be feeling pain from every angle conceivable, it doesn't make much sense to me to create more of it. This, of course, assumes certain emotional reactions of the respondents, but I can't see where it would be a great idea even if the bitch was richer than Croesus. Too much pain by attempting, once again, to attach a monetary sum to a human life.

All righty then, that's enough pontificating from moi. Go and see what the other divas, Silk and Phoenix, have to say on the matter. Sadie, I believe, is still on the break, but maybe if we're lucky Oklahoma's newest lawyer will chime in on this weighty subject. Ruth at Chaos Theory, this week's Guest Diva, has chimed in, so run along and read her opinion. For the male perspective Phin, Stiggy, our Maximum Leader and Jamesy are the usual token testosterone holders, hence you shall take their opinions seriously. Our guest Men's Club Member is That 1 Guy and he has chimed in as well.

Posted by Kathy at 02:03 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

October 26, 2005

The Cake Eater's Advice to Special Prosecutor Patrick Fitzgerald

Shit or get off the pot.

That is all.

Posted by Kathy at 08:28 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Pow! Right in the Kisser!

Hitchens on George Galloway's defenders in the mainstream media:

I wonder if any of those who furnished him a platform will now have the grace to admit that they were hosting a man who is not just a pimp for fascism but one of its prostitutes as well.

Reading Hitchens is like smoking a Chesterfield: it always satisfies.

Go read the whole thing.

Posted by Kathy at 11:03 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

wOOt!

Well, Chrissy claims she's no longer feisty, but I'm not believing her. But that's irrelevant. What is relevant, however, is that Chrissy is blogging again. And has a new moo knewvian home

New title, new mantra, same great woman! Run along and thank your lucky stars that she's baaaaaaaaaaaack!

Posted by Kathy at 09:09 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

October 25, 2005

Take That Unattended Luggage!

TeamAmerica.jpg

Kath the Cake Eater: Unattended Luggage Fighter and Cub Reporter

At precisely 12:52 p.m. CDT today, on my way back from Lake Harriet, I reached the bus stop that sits opposite the Cake Eater Pad. While I was waiting to cross the street, the sweet stylings of the Boss' Rosalita flowing through my earphones, out of the corner of my eye I noticed something was amiss. Something was resting next to the bench. Something that shouldn't have been there. Furthermore, it something that wasn't there when I went to the lake an hour and ten minutes earlier.

I am sure you, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, are asking, what could it have possibly been? A breadbox? A Chrysler? A disembowled smurf?

{insert heavy duh-duh-duh music here}

It was...

LH10-25-05 008.jpg

...an evil garment bag. An evil unattended garment bag.

Rather conveniently for the cub reporter angle, I had my digital camera with me, so I snapped off a few shots of the garment bag, before going into the house, where I faced a conundrum: to call the cops or to not call the cops.

You see, some idiot probably just forgot their bag when they were getting on the bus. It happens. Someone probably got a little too wrapped up while listening to George Clinton and the Parliament Funkadelic on their fashionable iPod and, in the midst of their grooving on this beautiful autumn Tuesday, forgot all about their garment bag as the bus pulled up. It could happen.

But the "authorities" have repeatedly warned us about "unattended bags," because, apparently, they don't like for our luggage to be separated from its owner: that's a bad thing because it generally doesn't bode well when this happens. Yet, I ask you, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, who in their right mind would want to bomb the bus stop across the street from the Cake Eater Pad? The only thing that's there, as you can see, is a bench, a Strib box, and a Lutheran Church about fifteen yards behind it. Besides the obvious choice of target--- the Strib box---the only other target of interest is the Lutheran Church. Who'd want to bomb a Lutheran Church? Yeah, sure bomb a synagogue or a cathedral, but a boxy Lutheran church? And ECLA Lutherans at that? That's just really not worth the effort. Particularly on a Tuesday.

Anyhoo...I was torn. Do I call the cops? Do I not call the cops? I wouldn't want to waste their time. So instead of debating with myself, while I stretched my hamstrings, I called the husband and asked him what I should do. He said, duh, call the cops. I agreed I would. I chatted with him for a little bit, asked him how his day was going, listened to him bitch about this ISP he's working with currently on this project, and then, after I hung up with the husband, called the police at 1:05 p.m. CDT. Of course I got the Cake Eater City Police on the horn and since the bus stop is in the Province of Minneapolis, they transferred me promptly to the Minneapolis police, who took my name, number and complaint and said, "we'll send some cruisers right over."

I hung up the phone, happy that was over with. Then, because I was hungry, I went into the kitchen and made some Cream of Wheat for lunch. 1:10 comes and goes and the cops don't show. 1:15 passes by with still no police as I pour the hot cereal into a bowl and get myself some juice. At 1:20, I'm settled in the chair in the living room, eating my lunch and watching the street outside, waiting for the cops to show up. The cream of wheat was exceedingly tasty---and it disappeared fast, because I was hungry. At 1:24 a Minneapolis police cruiser shows up! And it only took nineteen minutes! A moment later, a second cruiser pulls up behind the first.

Now, apparently the guy in the first cruiser wanted nothing to do with the bag. He left it for the dude in the second cruiser to take care of. The second cop pulled on what looked like a pair of baby blue rubber gloves and went to work on the bag, while the cop from the first cruiser stood out of the way.

LH10-25-05 009.jpg

The second cop went through the bag pretty thoroughly.

LH10-25-05 010.jpg

And then all of a sudden, the gawker effect kicked in on the street as the cars started slowing down to get a good peek at what was going on. This, apparently, coincided with the time that the second cop decided there was nothing to worry about with this bag, hence the first cop decided to mosy on over, closer to the bag.

LH10-25-05 011.jpg

About a minute later, at 1:27p.m., the second cop put the bag in his trunk, whipped his rubber gloves off like he was Marcus Welby, threw them into his car and got in after them. The first cop pulled into the church parking lot and then the second cruiser pulled in after him.

There apparently wasn't anything wrong with the bag, per se, because they sat there and shot the shit for the next fifteen minutes or so.

So, I feel somewhat righteous right now, having defended my local bus stop from unattended luggage that might or might not have exploded and destroyed the Strib box.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

Posted by Kathy at 02:47 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Cotillion Tuesday

Scamper on over to Girl on the Right's place and start reading.

Posted by Kathy at 10:59 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

October 24, 2005

Choices

Much like two little kids who enjoy procrastination, the husband and I are having a bit of a time deciding what we want to be for Halloween. We have a big fundraiser costume ball to go to on Saturday night and we've got it narrowed down to two options.

John Steed and Mrs. Emma Peel aka The Avengers

The Avengers.jpg

or Nick and Nora Charles

NoraAstaNick.jpg

What say you, my devoted Cake Eater Readers?

Posted by Kathy at 09:50 PM | Comments (11) | TrackBack

Chump Change

Gimme some of that circa-1999 dot com payola, baybeee!


My blog is worth $104,439.90.
How much is your blog worth?

Hat tip: Everyone's Favorite Commie Pinko

Posted by Kathy at 08:18 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

October 23, 2005

Autumn

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Posted by Kathy at 10:51 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Curiouser and Curiouser

Oh....so that's what Robbo looks like.

Hmmph.

I thought he'd be furrier. Hmmph. Must've been shorn for the occasion.

Posted by Kathy at 09:30 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

October 22, 2005

Pushing Back

I'm a little late on this one, but I wonder if this is the result of a new form of ambulance chasing or if this is actually someone standing up for the legal rights of those accused of drunk driving?

A Florida court will hear arguments on Friday in a case where the accuracy of a breathalyser is being scrutinised because the manufacturer has refused to release the source code.

Lawyers representing more than 150 defendants who have been charged for driving under the influence of alcohol in two Florida counties will file the request.

They argue that they have a right to see the source code of the alcohol breath analyser that was used to determine their clients' guilt.

"None of the [software] programs that was used here is approved," said Robert Harrison, a lawyer representing some of the defendants.

"The question is whether the difference [between these programs] is material or not. Without seeing the source code, we do not know."

At the centre of the controversy is the Intoxilyzer 5000, a device made by CMI of Ownsboro, Kentucky.

A marketing brochure for the device claims that it has been used for more than 25 years, and touts it as the "standard for accuracy, reliability and courtroom evidence".

Information on the internet shows that the Intoxilyzer 5000 is being used worldwide, including in Norway, the US and Canada. CMI did not return repeated phone calls seeking further information.

Florida approved the Intoxilyzer 5000 in 1993, but the manufacturer has since made numerous changes which Harrison argues have not been certified. CMI had to recall its devices in at least one case due to a software error, he said.

Releasing the source code of the device could take away any doubt about its accuracy, but the manufacturer has said in the past that it refuses to do so because it considers that information a trade secret.

This refusal could have far reaching consequences, potentially giving those convicted of 'Driving Under the Influence' a reason to appeal against their rulings.

It also has caused a backlog of such cases that await the results of this case to determine whether evidence gathered by the Intoxilyzer 5000 is still admissible in court.{...}

Curious, eh?

I wish them luck. Police have been modifying breathalyzers (read jerryrigging) for years and the evidence from said modified breathalyzers has still been admitted into court. It's about time someone took issue with the breathalyzers themselves---and their source code. Even if this examination proves there is nothing wrong with the way the breathalyzers work, the overall point is important---that the defendant has the right to examine "its accuser" in court. Even if its accuser is a machine. Because it's important to remind the courts that those accused of DWI are actually, you know, protected by the Constitution, even though they'd like to think otherwise.

UPDATE: Mitch has some further thoughts along these lines. Make sure to peruse the comments section.

Posted by Kathy at 10:52 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

October 21, 2005

Insert Small Moment of Triumph Here

The husband complains every now and again about my magazine habit. Not about the fact that I read them, but about the fact that I save them. Now, I fully admit I'm weird this way. While some people would be content to keep a file full of articles they'd liked and had ripped out of magazines, that's not my m.o. I like to keep the entire magazine itself because it provides a frame of reference for the article. For instance, somewhere in the vast collection of junk that one could identify as my belongings, there is a Life magazine from July 1969. That was back when Life still published weekly and was huge---and this particular issue covered the first moon landing. Now, I hadn't even been born yet when this was published, but I found this particular issue, of course, to be very, very cool when I came across it in the Cake Eater folks' assorted clobber. Not only did you have cool moon landing photographs, but you had ads for portable radios. And for cigarettes and for brands of cheap whiskey that don't even exist any more. Pretty cool, no?

Yeah. Go ahead and call me Lileks if you must. I can take it.

But the husband isn't wild about this magazine habit. Because I like to keep a lot of magazines. For many different and varied reasons. And they have a tendency to pile up. This annoys him, and, of course, he wants me to throw them out. I refuse and say, "Gee, honey, you'll never know when they'll come in handy!" Like today. When dearest Jonathan mentioned an article on Sarah Silverman from the March 1999 GQ in this post, I was able to email and inform him that I had that issue of GQ lying around. I asked him if he would like me to scan the article for him. He responded in the affirmative and so I present the scanned copy of Michael MacCambridge's Sarah Silverman Has The Cleanest Breasts in America.

Which I never would have been able to post if I wasn't a packrat!

Take the jump if you're interested in actually reading the article.

click on the image to magically enlarge!

UPDATE It should be fixed! Sorry!

Posted by Kathy at 03:06 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

Rule Brittania

Since today's the 200th Anniversary of the Battle of Trafalgar, I have yet another excuse to post this picture, taken by yours truly in a moment of daring in the crypt at St. Paul's in London, where you're not supposed to take pictures because it's a. either disrespectful to the people who are buried there or b. because flash photography will hurt the tombstones or something to that effect.

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If you couldn't already tell, I'm pretty proud of this picture.

Anyhoo...

Of course, if you want to know what actually happened during the battle, go here for Robbo's account. The Big Hominid has chimed in as well.

Posted by Kathy at 09:30 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

News Flash

Just in case you didn't know...

1. You can indict a ham sandwich in Travis County, Texas.

2. Tom DeLay's indictment is a "witchhunt"

3. Ronnie Earl, the Travis County District Attorney, is a partisan hack who tried to prosecute Kay Bailey Hutchinson in a similar witchhunt and had the case thrown out of court.

4. And, finally, KATHY'S 'EFFIN SICK AND TIRED OF BEING TOLD THE SAME THINGS OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN BECAUSE FOX NEWS CAN'T COME UP WITH ANYTHING ELSE TO REPORT!

Posted by Kathy at 09:00 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

October 20, 2005

I've Gone Blind!

AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Posted by Kathy at 01:27 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Three Things

It's Thursday, so that would signal to me that it's time for another riveting installment of the Demystifying Divas and the Marvelous Men's Club. Our topic this week is a good one that is guaranteed to produce much brouhaha, methinks. So, without further ado, here it is:I want to know about what a man is really thinking about three separate and distinct things. Did you get that, kids? We're shooting for them to tell the truth on three subjects where I would presume they're usually fibbing---or, at the very least, keeping their mouths shut so they don't get into trouble. It's time for fessin' up.

This, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, could be good fun, provided I actually get some answers.

And away we go...

1. Does it really offend you when a gay man shows an interest in you, or is a little part of you flattered at the attention, even if you're not interested in the offer and are exceedingly quick to say, "not that there's anything wrong with that!" ?

2. Even if they've settled down and have acquired the wife, the house and the mortgage, why do men feel the need to pretend, on occasion, as if they haven't committed themselves to all that? Women don't, for the most part, do that. Once we commit, we commit and that's that. Men, on the other hand, it seems to me, sometimes have second thoughts about all this committment and we're, as women, supposed to understand this notion and let them have their boy moments. You know the ones I'm talking about, right? The weekend trip to Vegas with the boys; the trip downtown to the titty bars; golf excursions where much flirting is done with the beer cart girl, etc. I can understand male bonding and all the rest, but do you really need to remind yourselves of all you're missing to be able to stay in a committed relationship? Because that's what it seems like to me. How, exactly, does that work? Does it actually help or does it actually make that mid-life crisis---replete with a red corvette and hair plugs--- inevitable?

3. What's the deal with duct tape and WD-40? Y'all wax exceedingly rhapsodic about these things---more so than is warranted, in my humble opinion. Yes, these two things are very handy to have around. I'm not denying that. Do cults need to be devoted to them? No. Hence, I would like to know why you think there should be cults devoted to the worship of duct tape and WD-40.

Okedokey, there are my three things. Now, run along and see what Silk, and Phoenix have to say. Madame Sadie is taking a wee bit of a break currently, so we shall fervently hope for her quick return. For the male perspective Phin, Stiggy, The Naked Villains, and Jamesy have chimed in. Nugget is our guest testosterone producer this week so run along and see what he has to say as well.

Posted by Kathy at 09:58 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

October 19, 2005

Random Question For the Day

Am I the only one who hated Fargo?

Posted by Kathy at 11:54 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

On Large Families and Idiotic San Francisco Chronicle Columnists

Via Jonathan we have this lovely column.

Here are some of the highlights:

Who are you to judge? Who are you to say that the more than slightly creepy 39-year-old woman from Arkansas who just gave birth to her 16th child yes that's right 16 kids and try not to cringe in phantom vaginal pain when you say it, who are you to say Michelle Duggar is not more than a little unhinged and sad and lost?

And furthermore, who are you to suggest that her equally troubling husband -- whose name is, of course, Jim Bob and he's hankerin' to be a Republican senator and try not to wince in sociopolitical pain when you say that -- isn't more than a little numb to the real world, and that bringing 16 hungry mewling attention-deprived kids (and she wants more! Yay!) into this exhausted world zips right by "touching" and races right past "disturbing" and lurches its way, heaving and gasping and sweating from the karmic armpits, straight into "Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with you people?"

But that would be, you know, mean. Mean and callous to suggest that this might be the most disquieting photo you see all year, this bizarre Duggar family of 18 spotless white hyperreligious interchangeable people with alarmingly bad hair,{...}

t's wrong to be this judgmental. Wrong to suggest that it is exactly this kind of weird pathological protofamily breeding-happy gluttony that's making the world groan and cry and recoil, contributing to vicious overpopulation rates and unrepentant economic strain and a bitter moral warpage resulting from a massive viral outbreak of homophobic neo-Christians across our troubled and Bush-ravaged land. Or is it?

{...}Perhaps the point is this: Why does this sort of bizarre hyperbreeding only seem to afflict antiseptic megareligious families from the Midwest? In other words -- assuming Michelle and Jim Bob and their massive brood of cookie-cutter Christian kidbots will all be, as the charming photo suggests, never allowed near a decent pair of designer jeans or a tolerable haircut from a recent decade, and assuming that they will all be tragically encoded with the values of the homophobic asexual Christian right -- where are the forces that shall help neutralize their effect on the culture? Where is the counterbalance, to offset the damage?

{...}Ah, but this is America, yes? People should be allowed to do whatever the hell they want with their families if they can afford it and if it's within the law and so long as they aren't gay or deviant or happily flouting Good Christian Values, right? Shouldn't they? Hell, gay couples still can't openly adopt a baby in most states (they either lie, or one adopts and the other must apply as "co-parent"), but Michelle Duggar can pop out 16 kids and no one says, oh my freaking God, stop it, stop it now, you thoughtless, selfish, baby-drunk people.

No, no one says that. That would be mean.

By all means, go and read the whole thing. If for no other reason than that it's really enlightening, in a, "Wow, do you think this bozo is representative of the average San Franciscan?" sort of way.

I'll admit to bias on this one. I mean, it's not like I can really avoid it, eh? It's not like I chose to have seven other siblings, but considering I'm number eight, I should just shut up and thank my lucky stars that the folks decided to have one more while they were at it, eh? So, I am biased, but I can't be the only one who finds it just a wee bit ironic that this obviously lefty columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle has become judgmental about someone's sex life? Because when someone asks you if you have kids, they are, in essence, asking about your sex life. Children, after all, are the product of sex. Ergo, Mr. Morford is criticizing the Duggar's sex life. Which is ironic given the subject matter of Morford's recent columns. He's all about advertising the sexual diversity of San Fran. and that's fine with me. San Fran wouldn't be San Fran without all of that. Yet when your sex life doesn't include birth control, well, according to Morford, that's just wrong! And selfish! And it just means the world is coming to an end, I swear to fucking GOD, because it's an omen that the Midwestern Neo-Christers are going to take over!

Which is just dumb. Not just because the rhetoric is just fucking trite, but because it's illogical. If you're going to stand up and scream for the rights of leather daddies to do their thing, well, then you should advocate the right of a woman to have a sixteen kids and to still want more. If no one's getting hurt, where's the harm? It's pretty simple, eh? Live and let live. I thought that's what you wacky San Franciscans were all about.

Just one more thing. Arkansas is not in the Midwest. It's in the south. Perhaps one could make the assumption that people on the coasts should learn basic grade school American geography, but I wouldn't want to be too judgmental. That would be mean.

Posted by Kathy at 11:35 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

October 18, 2005

Someone Did The Math

About the probabilities of Monopoly.

Just in case you're curious---the Reds give you the best bang for your buck.

Personally, I prefer the Greens, but to each their own. If nothing else, this gives credence to my theory that Park Place and Boardwalk are chump investments.

Posted by Kathy at 04:06 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Cotillion Time

This week's ball is hosted by Zendo Deb at TFS Magnum. Twirl on over and be enlightened.

Posted by Kathy at 12:49 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Kitchen Appliance Review Time

Because the carafe on our old coffeemaker decided to break, last week the husband and I were forced to go out and buy a new coffeemaker. After much research, a bit of making fun of Marshall Field employees and dodging Mr. Coffee counterfeits at JC Penneys, we purchased this model from Le Boutique de Target for $49.50.

coffeemaker.jpg

That is one sexy coffeemaker, no?

If you want to read what will undoubtedly be a longwinded review from someone who used to be in the coffee industry, take the jump. If you're not interested, well, gaze in wonder at the joy that is my kitchen counter.

This is the Mr. Coffee FTX29 Coffeemaker, and this bad boy has some neat features, such as:

  • A timer feature that lets you know exactly how long the coffee has been sitting there.
  • You can adjust the temperature on the warming plate
  • you can select the strength of your coffee
  • An audible ready signal---meaning it beeps loudly when the pot is ready to go

Some useful stuff there, no?

These, however, are the features that I couldn't care less about:

  • Dual water windows: do you really need to be able to see how much water is in the resevoir from both sides of the pot?
  • Water filtration system: use bottled water or get a PUR or Brita pitcher and you'll get the same effect for a lot less money.
  • You can pull the pot out and take a cup without it spewing coffee all over the warming plate before the pot is actually done brewing: yeah, go ahead and do this if you want one really strong cup of coffee and the rest of the pot to be weak.
  • Non-stick warming plate: woooh. Color me impressed with their thougthfulness.

I don't mean to be overly snarky about the features I couldn't care less about...well, who am I kidding? Of course I mean to be snarky. I can't really help myself. They advertise that "dual water windows" are a "feature" on this model. This is a selling point? What the fuck? It comes to the point where, in the middle of Le Boutique de Target, whilst you're searching in vain for the blessed UL label---which will, honestly, tell you pretty much all you need to know when it comes to purchasing a coffeemaker---you want to scream: I am Mario Goddamn Andretti! Are you going to show Mario Andretti the nifty, but completely irrelevant, cup holders on his Indy Car? Or are you going to show the man the engine? Because I guaran-frickin'-tee you that's what Mario wants to see!

You see, coffeemaker makers don't market their product toward me---the person who knows what the hell they're doing when they walk into that section of the department store. They market them toward you: the hypothetical urban hipster who has no idea what they want or need and who is more than willing to shell out $250 for a machine that looks like something their uber-cool gay neighbors would have on their kitchen counter. This hypothetical urban hipster feels it necessary to keep up with the Smith-Joneses, even though they'll never realize the sad truth of the situation: no straight person---male or female---can keep up with gay men in the kitchen appliance department. It just doesn't work that way and anyone who keeps on trying is doomed to failure.

But I digress...

This hypothetical urban hipster probably doesn't even know that you can use white vinegar to clean out your coffee pot every other month. Or that you should clean out your coffee pot bi-monthly.

Oops. I digressed again.

Anyway, this hypothetical urban hipster (hereafter referred to as "HUH" because that's just plain tiresome to keep typing out) is dazzled by shiny new toys. They have more money than sense and they are just begging to be suckered in by dual water windows when it comes to buying a coffeemaker. The HUH is not Mario Andretti. The HUH wants to see the cup holders in the Indy Car; they do not want to see the engine.

Do you want to know what you really need to know when looking for a coffeemaker? You do? Ok, here it is.

900W/120V/60H

You don't want any coffeemaker that's rated at more than 900 watts. Why? you ask. Well, it's because of the way you would prefer your coffeemaker work. You do want good coffee, don't you? Because if you're just buying a three hundred dollar coffeemaker to sit on the kitchen counter in your overpriced house on which you took out a mortgage where just gazing at the interest paperwork would kill a horse, you, my dear sir or madam, are an idiot and you deserve what you get. If, however, you are a coffee conoisseur, and you would like the good stuff, but also like a bargain as well, simply knowing the wattage will allow you to separate the wheat from the chaff, and here's why: you do not want the electrical guts to push your brewing process along too quickly, or to keep cycling the warming plate at a pace that would burn your coffee. 900 watts is the optimal. Anything above this and and your coffee will be in mortal danger of being poorly brewed or scalded.

Simple, no?

And it is simple, too. All you have to do is look for the UL label on the bottom of the demo coffee pot and see what it says. Some of the most expensive coffeemakers out there are listed at 1200W. They will brew through too quickly, and their warmers will cycle through to the point where they scald your coffee.
I hesitate to mention it, but coffeemakers with a wattage of 1200 generally also die a quicker death, too.

As long as your coffeemaker has 900W, you can pick and choose the features you would like from there on in. If you choose to go for the dual water windows, well, I suppose I can't stop you, but please do realize that that's not a reasonable feature for the manufacturer to be advertising.

What's the wattage on my Mr. Coffee? Why it's 900W, thanks for asking.

As far as the performance of my Mr. Coffee coffeemaker, well, other than the fact that I now have to buy special Mr. Coffee filters, it works pretty well. It makes coffee. What more do you want? But I suppose I should detail precisely what we like about it.

Okedokey then.

Since the husband always wakes before I do, and makes the coffee every morning, it's nice to know how much time is left before the warmer shuts off and I have to move the leftover coffee into the spare thermal carafe. The husband tells me he enjoys it when the coffeemaker beeps when it finishes brewing. This way he doesn't have to go back and forth between the kitchen and the office to keep checking. It's not like it's a long way between the kitchen and the office, but it's just far enough to make it an annoying journey when the coffee isn't done but you thought it was. The husband enjoys the color of the coffeemaker, and I will admit it's growing on me. I was originally not quite so keen to have a red coffeemaker, but I will admit, it jazzes things up a bit. I like the way it looks. But there is a potential problem that I'm afraid I did not consider when we purchased this model. Cookie Monster---yes, I have a Cookie Monster cookie jar---is a wee bit envious, it would appear. When he doesn't think anyone's looking, Cookie, his googly eyes taking on a laser-like intensity you honestly didn't think was possible, glares malevolently at the new coffeemaker. I've seen him do it, and it's just freakin' sad. It's obvious to all that he now has competition on the counter, and he's not happy about it. If there's a smackdown, I'll let you know about it.

Other than that, it's a decent coffeemaker. I would recommend buying one if you're in the market for an exceedingly sexy coffeemaker.

With dual water windows.

Posted by Kathy at 12:30 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

October 17, 2005

Input is Needed

I ask you, my devoted Cake Eater Readers: Blockbuster online rentals or Netflix?

UPDATE: The husband has been screwing around with this Ning thing for the past week or so (he got in on the beta somehow) and is enamored with it. Hence, he built me an app for this specific question. Go and check it out, but for the love of God, don't register to vote. I won't even do that.

Posted by Kathy at 11:28 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

In Which Kathy Gives Her Take on The Vikings Sexy Boat Scandal

Ahem.

A bunch of football players decided to have a party wherein they got drunk, laid and treated everyone below them on the social strata like crap.

And this is different from high school, how?

Seriously. John Hughes could make a decent movie from this one.

Posted by Kathy at 12:52 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

If There Was Ever a Moment For Intemperate Swearing, This Is It

FUCK!

Let us hope Sadie returns soon. Go over and drop hints to that effect in her comments, my devoted Cake Eater Readers.

Posted by Kathy at 11:30 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

October 14, 2005

Hey, That's Not a Bobbie

That's a member of the language police!

{...}Mary Magilton, 54, suffered cuts and bruises after being hit by the car which mounted the pavement while she was chatting with friends in Oldham and then drove off, newspapers reported on Friday.

She reported the incident but was ticked off by a police officer when she said the driver of the car was a "fat" woman.

"I was given a frosty look and told I couldn't say that. I could have said lardy, porky or podgy. But I wouldn't dare use those words," the Daily Mirror quoted her as saying.

A spokeswoman for Greater Manchester Police (GMP) said the description recorded on the police log of the incident did include the word "fat."

"I don't think she was severely reprimanded," the spokeswoman said, adding GMP had a policy to ensure officers used "appropriate language" that would not cause offence. {...}

Honestly. What is going on over there? First, Piglet's under fire and now a victim in an auto assault cannot describe her attacker as "fat."

Posted by Kathy at 12:42 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack

Titties That REALLY Rock!

It never ceases to amaze me what people will think up.

Posted by Kathy at 09:31 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

October 13, 2005

I'm Going To Get In SOOOOOO Much Trouble For This

But I really can't quite resist.

You see, I have this photo of the Cake Eater Mom from when I was a little girl. It was taken in our dining room at our old house while she was working on some sewing project back in the day before she went pro and converted the basement into sewing central. Whomever took this particular photograph caught her completely by surprise. I'm assuming the photographer was Dad, but you never know: we had a surplus of people hanging about in those days.

Now, Mom hates this picture. I know for a fact that she despises this picture. She, I'm sure, thought this picture had disappeared into the ether somewhere. That it had been destroyed or lost or whatever. I sure she thought she was safe from this picture ever being seen again.

Well, not so.

Mom.jpg

The reason I'm posting a thirty-some-odd-year-old photo of my mother is because it's her birthday today!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!

Don't you wish you had a child like me?

{Insert evil chuckle here}

UPDATE: Hey Mom, did you know you share a birthday with Maggie Thatcher? Cooo-el.

Posted by Kathy at 12:12 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Is Any Sex Good Sex?

And with that illustrious title it should, indeed, be obvious that we have arrived at yet another Thursday and it's time for the Demystifying Divas and the Marvelous Men's Club to tackle yet another hard hitting topic. This week's entry is a three-parter: Do men always have good sex? What about women---do they have good sex? Who/what determines if the sex was, indeed, good?

As you can see, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, I have my work cut out for me.

As to the first question, do men always have good sex, I will refer you to the extensive research I conducted so I would be able to answer this question for you. Yes. That's right. I'm all about the demystifying. So I went and asked my usual source---the husband---and here's what he had to say. Ahem.

Sex is like pizza. When it's good, it's really good. When it's bad, well, it's still pretty good.

Deep, no?

This brings us to our second question: do women have good sex? Well, of course they do. Like, duh. It's just different for women. Men have good sex each and every time because they climax each and every time. Most women do not climax each and every time they have intercourse. We have different physiologies and I don't see where we're doing anyone any favors by pretending otherwise. One is a Fiat Panda and the other is a Volvo Estate Car. That is just the nature of the beast. And anyone who tries to tell you differently is ignoring the facts of life. Women are different from men, and THANK GOD for it. Vive la difference, I believe is what the cheese eating surrender monkeys call it, but we'll keep the French bashing to a minimum today. Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes, the differences between men and women. I believe we should glorify those differences. Furthermore, I think we should just learn to accept that things are different. To do otherwise is to miss a lot of the really good stuff that happens, with or without a climax in attendance.

Which, then brings us to our third question: who/what determines if the sex was, indeed, good? Tricky, no? I believe the difference is in how you measure what "good sex" is. Because men and women are going to have different bench marks as to what, precisely, is good sex. If one wanted to search for a ridiculous metaphor to describe this phenomenon without gettting too down and dirty, one could say that men used the metric system to measure good sex. It's a logical choice for men---who are overly fond of logic---to use: the metric system is a base ten system; there aren't any inconvenient conversions that need to be made; it's a safe, solid system that is used by the majority of the world's population to describe things. Why the heck shouldn't men use the metric system? By Golly, everyone should use it! is, I believe, what they would think.

Women, on the other hand, in this world of ridiculous metaphors, would use the English system of measurements. We like inches, feet, yards, and other obscure measurements that have come down through the ages. We like the tales that are told about these measurements. We enjoy all of the arcane historical data that comes with them. And we don't really understand, it seems, why other people would want it any other way.

The key to succcess in the sack is for each partner to learn the other's conversion charts. It's quite simple.

Now, if any of that makes ANY sense at all to you, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, well, you're two steps ahead of me. So I will now say "SHOOO!"in a big booming voice and direct you to Silk and Phoenix for their take on the matter at hand. Chrissy, in a curious change of pace, is posting on last week's topic. For the testosterone-laden take, run along and see what Phin, Stiggy, The Naked Villains, Jamesy and That 1 Guy have to say.

Posted by Kathy at 11:06 AM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

October 12, 2005

Friday Cannot Come Soon Enough

Because then we will know who will play James Bond now that Pierce has hung it up.

Sony Pictures Entertainment, the Hollywood studio backing new Bond film "Casino Royale,"said on Wednesday that the actor who will portray the suave secret agent with a license to kill would be named at a news conference in London on October 14.

No further details were disclosed, and the mystery remains over who will star in the film franchise that has grossed nearly $4 billion at global box offices since the first Bond flick, "Dr. No," hit the silver screen in 1962.

Reports in London have identified English actor
Daniel Craig, who recently starred in the gangster film, "Layer Cake," as the new Bond, but that could not be confirmed.{...}

Daniel Craig, eh?

Curious. We shall see if shagging Sienna on the side was a good career move.

Posted by Kathy at 10:00 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Fuzzy, Redux Redux

Yep.

Day Three without any form of nicotine running through my bloodstream.

And I still feel like I'm high. Any time my brain would like to get back to working at its regular pace, I'll be happy to have it kick in. Until then, I'm reduced to wandering around the house, trying to connect two thoughts and failing most times. I'm sick of this crap.

I WANT MY BRAIN BACK!

I want to be able to post without having to update about six or seven times to get my point across.

Also, to add insult to injury, I broke out again. And it's a bad breakout. Like, I haven't had skin this grotty since I was in high school.

I'm pretty damn sure it's a reaction to the lessening of the amount of nicotine in my bloodstream. There's nothing else to explain it. I haven't changed my diet. I don't bloom out in zits during that time of the month because, ahem, I'm not fifteen anymore (Thank God for small favors). I learned my lesson on the Life Savers, hence there's no candy in the house. This is the only thing that could be causing all these effing zits! They pop up, quite literally, it the time it takes to wash my face. I'm quite serious. Yesterday, I washed my face. There was no zit above my lip. I rinse my face off and---WHAM, BAM, THANK YOU MA'AM---a white head had appeared. And, no, I'm not allergic to the soap. This is fucking ridiculous. I haven't counted all the zits on my face because, quite frankly, there are too many of them to count!

Quitting smoking has very little to recommend it.

Really.

I'm just calling it the way I see it and as far as I can tell, compared to how happy I was sucking on my coffin nails, well, the life of a non-smoker really does suck.

Posted by Kathy at 11:12 AM | TrackBack

Like Duh

Born to Run sucks. It is loaded with cheesy innuendo, hence it is not great poetry, nor is it even the best song in Springsteen's catalogue, let alone the best rock song ever. However, if you're doomed to sticking with the Springsteen catalogue, Thunder Road, is great poetry. It wins. Hands down. It kicks Born to Run's ass every day of the week and twice on Sundays. I wouldn't say Thunder Road was the greatest rock song ever, either. But it's pretty damn good.

Lyrics can be found after the jump.

The screen door slams
Mary' dress waves
Like a vision she dances across the porch
As the radio plays
Roy Orbison singing for the lonely
Hey that's me and I want you only
Don't turn me home again
I just can't face myself alone again
Don't run back inside
Darling you know just what I'm here for
So you're scared and you're thinking
That maybe we ain't that young anymore
Show a little faith there's magic in the night
You ain't a beauty but hey you're alright
Oh and that's alright with me

You can hide 'neath your covers
And study your pain
Make crosses from your lovers
Throw roses in the rain
Waste your summer praying in vain
For a saviour to rise from these streets
Well now I'm no hero
That's understood
All the redemption I can offer girl
Is beneath this dirty hood
With a chance to make it good somehow
Hey what else can we do now ?
Except roll down the window
And let the wind blow
Back your hair
Well the night's busting open
These two lanes will take us anywhere
We got one last chance to make it real
To trade in these wings on some wheels
Climb in back
Heaven's waiting on down the tracks
Oh-oh come take my hand
We're riding out tonight to case the promised land
Oh-oh Thunder Road oh Thunder Road
Lying out there like a killer in the sun
Hey I know it's late we can make it if we run
Oh Thunder Road sit tight take hold
Thunder Road

Well I got this guitar
And I learned how to make it talk
And my car's out back
If you're ready to take that long walk
From your front porch to my front seat
The door's open but the ride it ain't free
And I know you're lonely
For words that I ain't spoken
But tonight we'll be free
All the promises'll be broken
There were ghosts in the eyes
Of all the boys you sent away
They haunt this dusty beach road
In the skeleton frames of burned out Chevrolets
They scream your name at night in the street
Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet
And in the lonely cool before dawn
You hear their engines roaring on
But when you get to the porch they're gone
On the wind so Mary climb in
It's town full of losers
And I'm pulling out of here to win

Posted by Kathy at 10:38 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

And Here I Thought UNICEF Wanted to Help Children

But instead, they committed Smurf genocide.

notsosmurfy.jpg

Putting aside the very unsmurfy genocide for a brief moment, you just know Gargamel is just pissed off right now. UNICEF---freakin' UNICEF---succeeded where he's failed too many times to count. He's probably drunk in his cottage right now, and is trying to come up with fun and interesting ways of torturing the cat.

Posted by Kathy at 10:17 AM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

October 11, 2005

Fuzzy, Redux

Yep. It's a day later and I still feel like I'm high.

I miss my nicotine.

Posted by Kathy at 10:51 AM | TrackBack

The Rule of Law

...as in, Murphy's Law seemed to rule over Robbo's Saturday with the Llama-ettes.

Go read and be enlightened about everything that could possibly go wrong when visiting the mall on a rainy Saturday afternoon.

Posted by Kathy at 09:26 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

I'm in No Mood...

...to come up with yet another lame dancing metaphor designed to make you people want to click over to The Cotillion. So, since there are no metaphors to be found, just click on over, eh?

Oh, and there's some contest going on that has something to do with testosterone or something like that. But honestly I haven't had enough coffee yet, so I don't know what that's all about, yet it's looking like we just surrendered ourselves to Arthur {insert dramatic pause here} KING of the Britons, instead of being the autonomous collective we all thought we were.

Sigh.

Posted by Kathy at 09:12 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

October 10, 2005

Fuzzy

I feel like my brain is a balloon. It's currently floating about five feet above my head and, lucky for me, is tethered to my spinal column by a string.

Today is the first day in over ten years that I've gone without any nicotine in my system.

And I feel like an idiot.

Yes, you are remembering correctly: I was on the patch. I gradually stepped down from 21mg of nicotine---the equivalent of a pack of twenty cigarettes---to 14mg four weeks ago, and then to 7mg two weeks ago. Yesterday endeth the eight weeketh patcheth plan. Today is my first day without ANY nicotine and, to repeat, I feel like a fucking idiot. The neurons aren't firing well. The synapses are acting like a lazy bike messenger who's claiming to have a pulled hamstring. And I'm tired. I just went around the lake and I'm pooped. I shouldn't be this tired. Everything's fuzzy and muzzy and any other words that have two "z's" in the middle.

Methinks this quitting smoking thing is more of a pain than what it's worth.

Ah, well, it's not like I'm in any state to ponder deeply on that, so I'm going to go and have a nap.

Posted by Kathy at 12:58 PM | TrackBack

Guaranteed

As in this is guaranteed to do three things.

1. It is guaranteed to make the husband laugh long and hard
2. It is guaranteed to make his sister blow a freakin' gasket because she's a die hard creationist.
3. It is guaranteed to make sure much amusement is had by me while watching the two of them slug it out. (No pun intended, but am appreciating the one that sprung up there, thankyouverymuch.)

{One HUGE tip of the hat to Sheila)

Posted by Kathy at 10:01 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

October 09, 2005

For My Devoted UK Cake Eater Readers

Just for you my lovelies, here's an interesting article on how to get around 0870 numbers.

Enjoy, and don't say I never did anything for you.

Posted by Kathy at 11:07 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Mommy, Stop The Mean Woman From Taunting Me

Oh, wait...the mean woman is my mommy. Never mind.

She sent me these earlier, with the attached message: "Couldn't help exchanging views." The Cake Eater Parents are currently on vacation in Ft. Walton Beach, Florida. This is, indeed, the perfect time of year to visit: it's still warm enough to get some serious beach time in, but the beaches are pretty free of people, which is nice.

FtWaltonI.jpg

FtWaltonII.jpg

{Insert much grumbling that, undoubtedly, violates the Fourth Commandment here}

Posted by Kathy at 10:30 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

October 07, 2005

A Taste of Things to Come

So, I've been schlepping the digital camera over to the lake when I go walking. The purpose behind this being to capture the change of the season. The husband and I had this idea years ago, and we finally decided to actually do it this year. Fortunately the camera is light, but effective. Today, I took some extra shots because I liked the light. So, this is the Minneapolis skyline from the southeast shore of Lake Harriet.

Clicket on the image to super-size.

This is what I get to gaze upon every day when I go walking. Eat your hearts out.

You'll see the rest of the pictures when all the leaves are down. Which shouldn't be too long from now because it frosted last night.

Posted by Kathy at 05:48 PM | Comments (9) | TrackBack

The Memoir I've Been Waiting For

Way back in the day, I always got the impression that Louis Freeh hated Bubba Clinton, but that he was saving his discontent---and the juicy anecdotes that went with it---for his memoir.

Turns out I was right.

{...} In another revelation, Freeh says the former president let down the American people and the families of victims of the Khobar Towers terror attack in Saudi Arabia. After promising to bring to justice those responsible for the bombing that killed 19 and injured hundreds, Freeh says Clinton refused to personally ask Saudi Crown Prince Abdullah to allow the FBI to question bombing suspects the kingdom had in custody – the only way the bureau could secure the interviews, according to Freeh. Freeh writes in the book, “Bill Clinton raised the subject only to tell the crown prince that he understood the Saudis’ reluctance to cooperate and then he hit Abdullah up for a contribution to the Clinton Presidential Library.” Says Freeh, “That’s a fact that I am reporting.” {...}

The fun just never ends with Bubba, does it?

/sarcasm

{hat tip: LMC}

Posted by Kathy at 09:38 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

October 06, 2005

Here's a Random Thought For The Day

For every conservative who is whining about how "betrayed" they feel that GDub "ignored the base" by nominating Harriet Miers to the Supreme Court, please know that there is a moderate conservative who is smiling wryly and is saying, "welcome to the party, pal."

Yes, they wanted your vote. Do you really think that means anything to those people? Why are you living under the delusion that you mean something to them? Do you honestly believe that they actually care about what you think and want out of your chosen representatives in Washington? When are you people going to learn that---ahem---they don't care?

In other words, join in the disillusionment, my children. And do it soon, would you? All of this caterwauling is getting extremely tiresome.

Posted by Kathy at 11:18 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Insert Smoker's Cough Here

Yes, please.

Posted by Kathy at 01:09 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Spotting the Singletons

No, your calendar did not lie to you: it is Thursday. Hence it's time for the Demystifying Divas and the Marvelous Men's Club to answer all your very important questions. Today's question came to us from The Flirt Blog and it goes something like this: how do you tell if someone is single?

Hmmmm. That should be an easy one to answer, shouldn't it? Just look at the left hand of the object of your affection, if there is no ring there, rejoice, but you should nonetheless proceed with caution: they still might be attached. Buy them a drink, ask them some questions, get chummy and then ask them if they're attached. If they aren't, well, isn't life good for you, my child? If they are, well, you've just made yourself a new platonic friend. Conversely, if they came up to you and started hitting on you, well, you could make the reasonable assumption that they're single, and they would like to know if you are, too. You might want to put them out of their misery if the situation calls for it, just to be nice.

But that would be me. Other people might want to be sneakier less obvious about it. And in that case, gosh, I really don't know what to tell you other than to put on your deerstalker hat, load up a pipe and play Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock, in case you've been living under a rock for a good long time, was a master of observation and deduction. He would observe; he would then make a logical deduction based on what he had observed and the knowledge gained over a lifetime. Pretty simple stuff, no? All right, I shall describe an individual; you tell me if they are single or attached. You will find the answers below the fold.

A man is at a party at a house in an uber-hip section of the Hollywood Hills. He is about six-foot-one and has a lankiness to him that screams "athleticism." His hair is dark; his eyes are brown; his body is buff; he wears no jewelry other than a watch. His facial hair is trimmed, as is his hair. He's drinking a cosmopolitan and his eyes are wandering around the room, looking for someone interesting. Is this man single? you wonder. You double check his left hand. You don't see a ring. You move in for the kill.

Have you met your match?

For our second example we have:

A middle-aged man is at a retro cocktail bar. A neon sign made in the shape of a martini glass hangs from the opposite wall, and the olive in the bottom of the glass winks at you in a shade of green reminiscent of a half-dead Christmas tree. There are few tables, a large bar and plenty of booths, designed for getting closer, and he is sitting in one. You notice that he is the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. You can tell he is comfortable in his own skin because he takes his time taking the situation in. He drinks a vodka tonic, and has made sure the lime has been disposed of properly, as well as the straw. He ensures his drink does not drip condensation onto his silk tie by fastidiously blanketing the base of the glass with his napkin. His suit is well tailored, but not flashy, and it covers any sins of middle-aged flesh rather well. His jewelry is limited to a tie bar and a watch. A freshly cracked pack of Marlboro Lights sits on the table, the cellophane wrapper lying uselessly in the ashtray, and he smokes one casually, blowing the smoke out at a leisurely pace. His eyes roam about the room, looking for something. They land on you and he smiles at you. You smile back while you surrpetitiously gaze at his left hand again. No ring. You move in.

Have you met your match?

And what have you deduced from these two examples, my devoted Cake Eater Readers? Anything good? Anything worth your time? I shall leave it to you to take the jump to see if you were correct in your deductions, but, even if you weren't successful this time around, it's quite simple to become successful at this sort of thing in the future. All you need do is observe a person to see who they are because all the clues are laid out right before you. You just need to learn how to piece them together to give yourself the whole picture. The key is simply taking the time to observe.

So, enough bullshit from moi, it's time to see what the other demystifying divas have to say on the matter. As always, for the testosterone-y take, you can visit Phin, Nugget, Stiggy, Jamesy and the Naked Villains.

Due to a effort to show up the rest of us scheduling snafu , Sadie and Pammy have written their essays on next week's topic. So you can shuffle along, read their essays and get excited for next week's episode of As The Divas Turn.

1. Yeah, he's single but he's gay so it's not like it matters. The cosmopolitan should have tipped you off. Also, any single guy who can shove his fat ass into a Gucci suit is obviously gay, because only gay men spend hours and hours at the gym trying to get a body that looks like Tom Ford's.

2. He's married. Yeah. Middle aged guys, for the most part, don't smoke. They were nagged by their wives into giving it up a long time ago. He's not inhaling; the pack is brand new and, as any ex-smoker can tell you, drinking is when you most want a smoke. He wanted one. He spent an arm and a leg purchasing a pack from the bartender and he's undoubtedly trying something old and familiar on, while trying to avoid becoming an addict again. This is a person who is looking to get out of a rut, hence he's either in a long-term partnership or he's married, but he's definitely attached.

Oh, and he's got the keys to a brand spankin' new Corvette in his pocket, but you didn't know that, so you shouldn't worry about missing one serious mid-life crisis.

Posted by Kathy at 12:53 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

October 05, 2005

I'm Going To Yack

They're breeding.

I know I'm late to the game on this one, but...yeech.

This is just another ploy to prove what a manly man Tommy Boy is. He would like everyone to know that he is Virile Man! {insert appropriate superhero theme music here} Successfully spreading seed in rocky territory since 1984, but I'm not buying it. I think two words can---and will, when Katie has her moment in the Baba Wabba spotlight---refute this image...

artificial insemination.

Posted by Kathy at 11:38 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

Note To Self

Get your fat ass off the chair and start cleaning the house.

UPDATE You know your motivation level is at rock bottom when you feel the need to blog about how much you don't feel like cleaning.

It's incredibly sad, no? Next thing you know, Dearest Jonathan will be bugging me about how this, indeed, is an indicator of just how dumb blogs can be.

And he'll say "heh" when he does it, too.

Posted by Kathy at 11:40 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Interesting Weather

It was 88 degrees and very muggy on Monday.

Of course we turned the AC on, not being the kind of people who enjoy sweating for the heck of it.

Yesterday---Tuesday---it started raining. We had several typhoon strength thunderstorms last night, and it's kept on through this morning. But, fortunately, it was still warm when I woke up this morning. As in it was sixty-eight degrees. Which is nice for this time of the year. It was also still raining.

But the rain has stopped for the time being. The wind has picked up. And the temperature is dropping: it's currently fifty-seven.

Now my little weather bar on my browser is telling me that the low for today will be thirty-six degrees with a chance of a snow or rain shower later on this evening.

Only in the midwest can you go from using the AC to using the furnace within a span of forty-eight hours!

My mother, who is currently on her yearly Florida jaunt with my father, is undoubtedly laughing her head off as she reads this.

Posted by Kathy at 11:28 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

October 04, 2005

Twinkle Toes

Quite literally.

I can't decide if these are actually a good idea or if they're just a waste of money.

Really and truly. I can't make up my mind.

Posted by Kathy at 11:32 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

In-Laws or Out-Laws?

I have to deep clean the Cake Eater Pad tomorrow.

The reason for this deep cleaning?

My in-laws are coming to town tomorrow. From Phoenix. Via plane.

And we had, approximately, twenty-two hours' warning of their visit.

To elucidate: the in-laws were supposed to visit us last week. They had their plane tickets and their hotel reservations were made. They were set to go. That is, until the father-in-law was laid-off from his job. Then the in-laws decided that spending money on a vacation probably wasn't the wisest thing to do whilst there was a limited source of income available. So, after cancelling the reservations, the father-in-law looked for a new job and he was hired yesterday. It's a job he will excel at; it has a lovely compensation package; and it means they will be moving to the outskirts of Nogales, Arizona because the father-in-law will be driving over the border every day to go to work. You'd think they have plenty on their plates right now, wouldn't you? Getting ready to sell their house; finding a place for the father-in-law to live in the meantime; looking for new furniture to replace the hideous orange and brown sofa and chairs they have in their living room, etc. Apparently not. The mother-in-law, never being one to let grass grow under her feet when a chance to see her grandbabies is in the offing, suggested to her husband this morning that since he doesn't start work until the 17th, they could still get their vacation in.

They didn't call to ask if it was a good time for a visit, either.

Yeah. I know. Let's not go there.

This should serve as a warning that blogging will probably be light over the next couple of days as I have an apartment to mother-in-law-ize and other domestic duties to attend to.

Posted by Kathy at 11:11 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

And The Oscar Should Go To...

I think Don Cheadle should be added to this list, and Emily Watson and Emma Thompson should be added to this one.

But that's just my opinion. I could be wrong.

Posted by Kathy at 10:09 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

The Handmaid's Tale Come True?

Where's Offred when you need her?

Republican lawmakers are drafting new legislation that will make marriage a requirement for motherhood in the state of Indiana, including specific criminal penalties for unmarried women who do become pregnant "by means other than sexual intercourse."

According to a draft of the recommended change in state law, every woman in Indiana seeking to become a mother through assisted reproduction therapy such as in vitro fertilization, sperm donation, and egg donation, must first file for a "petition for parentage" in their local county probate court.

Only women who are married will be considered for the "gestational certificate" that must be presented to any doctor who facilitates the pregnancy. Further, the "gestational certificate" will only be given to married couples that successfully complete the same screening process currently required by law of adoptive parents.

As it the draft of the new law reads now, an intended parent "who knowingly or willingly participates in an artificial reproduction procedure" without court approval, "commits unauthorized reproduction, a Class B misdemeanor." The criminal charges will be the same for physicians who commit "unauthorized practice of artificial reproduction."{...}

And no, this is not a hoax. It beggars belief, I know, but you can read the draft legislation here.

"Petition for Parentage"? "Gestational Certificate"? "Unauthorized reproduction"? Unauthorized practice of artificial reproduction"? Pardon my French but what the fucking fuck? This is the language of science fiction, my friends, not the language one would expect to find in proposed legislation in a state in the United States of America.

The more I think about this, the madder I get. How dare they? HOW DARE THEY? If this law were passed, in the state of Indiana, you wouldn't be able to have in-vitro if you were a single woman. Yet, if you were a single woman and had a one night stand and became pregnant as a result that, apparently, would be fine. But nevermind the discrimination against single parents, let's talk about what married couples would have to go through, because they would have access to fertility treatments, but they'd nonetheless have to apply for "parentage" and would then have to be screened for parental worthiness.

And all of this is only because these people's reproductive systems are faulty or are lacking one of the necessary ingredients. If you're a fertile myrtle, well, you're in the clear and no one can tell you what to do when it comes to your reproductive system. Including having an abortion! Good on you for having working plumbing!

The author of the legislation claims this about settling the legal issues of who has parental rights when extraordinary types of infertility treatment are used. That, I believe, is a blind. This is about legislating morality. The author of the legislation flat-out admitted she believes marriage is a prerequisite for parenthood. What she didn't say, however, is that she believes in that so much she would create criminal consequences for those who disagreed with her.

One can only hope that this piece of flaming excrement dies a quick and horribly painful death when Indiana's next legislative session begins.

{Hat Tip: Jeff G.}

UPDATE 10/6: It's been dropped because "The issue has become more complex than anticipated and will be withdrawn from consideration by the Health Finance Commission." One could have wished that it had been dropped because "it was a bit of draconian bullshit," but one can't have everything, can one?

Posted by Kathy at 09:31 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Because I'm All About Free PR*

So, this is the press release I mentioned in this post from yesterday. I decided to give them the free pr anyway. "What the hay," I said to myself, as I good naturedly shrugged my shoulders. "I'm going to be nice and maybe I'll get a free mug or something out of the deal."

Krinkiefor Congress.jpg

Ninth Circle of Hell, MN – The Krinkie for Congress Campaign released its third quarter fundraising numbers today showing its direct marketing campaign hit up at least 1000 individuals who had neither Caller ID or sufficient enough wit to say, "Hola? No habla Ingles," when they answered the phone. The campaign also reported that they had "bou-cou bucks" stashed in a grocery bag in the campaign office. They will use this cash to buy their way into the House of Representatives so they "can smush the little people." Any remaining funds have been earmarked to pay for a truckload of ice cream sandwiches to be delivered to the campaign office on election night, as a "thank you for all your hard work, now eat yourselves into Type II Diabetes because you're not going to Dee Cee" present. The campaign organization and fundraising successes are clear signs of the snail's pace momentum of the campaign as the Republican Party’s most unknown candidate in the race, but hey, when you're running against Michele Bachmann, well, you know, you don't really have to do much to get your name in the paper, ya dig? You'll always get a mention as her primary opponent, if nothing else, because that chick gets press ya dig? Hence, really there's no need for us to be calling attention to ourselves and our fundraising habits in this shameless way, but hey, we're actually shameless so why the heck shouldn't we?

“Whether it is the level of support the campaign has received among Phil’s fellow Republican activists, or the successes this campaign has had attracting financial support, it demonstrates he’s the most unknown, candidate,” said campaign Finance Director Linda Runbeck, who is also the head of our Lackey Department and an email spammer of some note. “To be able to garner this level of support in just seven short months is a testament to the level of cluelessness that our supporters have demonstrated on the whole. More importantly, it is a testament to their confidence that Phil will bring our shared vision of serious pork for the I-94 corridor in Maple Grove, a serious intent for keeping those darned Mexicans in Mexico, and making sure plenty of time is wasted on fruitless amendments to the Constitution defining marriage as "a union between a man and a woman." Because, like the Barenaked Ladies, "we're all about values."

Please contact our campaign office if you'd like to interview our candidate or, better yet, his staffers. We can make our candidate (or ourselves) available for any sort of PR grubbing event you have in mind. We're not picky. Really, we're not.

*take the jump

*If a member of the Krinkie for Congress staff makes it to this post, please realize this is a parody; a work of satire designed to get one simple point across. If you are clueless as to just what point I'm trying to get across, you should click on the link at the beginning of this post. Sorry to have made an example of you, but damn, it's not like I didn't give you politicos enough warning.

Have a nice day.

Posted by Kathy at 02:00 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Twirl Time

As is usual on Tuesdays, it's Cotillion Time.

Twirl on over to The Gray Tie for the best and brightest of the XX-chromosomed bloggers.

UPDATE: Beth's done a Cotillion Harriet Miers Roundup. Go and be enlightened, my devoted Cake Eater Readers.

Posted by Kathy at 10:52 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

October 03, 2005

What Will They Think of Next?

And the answer to that question is NicoShot:

A German company has come up with a novel way of beating bans on smoking in pubs - put the nicotine in the beer.

A new beer, known as NicoShot, is undergoing testing in Germany with hopes it can be moved toward approval in the next few months.

Each beer contains three milligrams of nicotine and a 6.3% alcohol reading.

Its German maker, Nautilus, claims the beer is designed to help smokers quit the habit rather than make the drink addictive.

"While NicoShot can lessen cravings, it is not a 'cure' for smoking," Nautilus said.

"But it can help you make changes in your lifestyle without having to walk out of the bar for a quick smoke to deal with sudden withdrawal symptoms.

"Over time, when you are more comfortable being a non-smoker, the use of nicotine beer can be reduced and then stopped."

What I want to know is this: will QuitPlan start sending this stuff out in lieu of patches? Because it serves, essentially, the same function as the patch, only it has the added benefit of helping you to get blitzed in the meanwhile. That should help with the nic fits, shouldn't it?

Furthermore, as a taxpaying citizen of the State of Minnesota, I demand that the State Legislature enact a law---maybe Pawlenty can do it if he's not too busy having to pay off Big Tobacco for lying about the "health impact fee"---that dictates all bars in the affected smoking ban area shoud be required by law to keep this stuff on tap to supply the smokers who would normally have to go out into the deep freeze that is Minnesota to smoke. It's the humane thing to do---and the State should have to pay for it, too. They'll pay for patches: they should have to pay for NicoShot too. Since bars and restaurants are the logical outlet for this product, it seems only fair that they should have to compensate bar owners for the expense of such an alternative to smoking.

Posted by Kathy at 10:46 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Decisions, Decisions

So, a while back I posted this.

I just recieved an email from a campaign in the Cake Eater inbox.

I ask you, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, should I mock them mercilessly for filling my box up with unwanted spam? Or should I be nice and let them slide with a warning as it's been a while since I posted that?

Posted by Kathy at 02:53 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Caterwauling In Extremis

God help us, the social conservatives are cheesed over the nomination of Harriet Miers. There are some good roundups of blogosphere opinions here, here, and here.

I have a few points to make, but I can't be bothered with the fuss of putting them in essay format, so I shall enumerate them and you, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, can be relieved that, for once, I tried to be a champion of brevity.

1. I find it interesting that Miers nomination is being seen, mainly, as a betrayal of social conservatives in favor of cronyism, rather than what it actually is: a bone thrown to the moderates and swing voters. This is GDub setting up the party for the 2008 Presidential Elections by giving the moderates a reason to stick around after all the homage he's paid to the social conservative agenda.

And all of this is only dependent upon finding out that Miers is not, indeed, a far-right candidate. Which, I hasten to add, we don't know. One check written to Lloyd Bentsen's campaign does not a NARAL member make.

2. It could, perhaps, be a good thing to have a Supreme Court Justice who's never been a judge before.

Given the fabulous ruling we had with Kelo this summer, do you think that, perhaps, someone other than a legal scholar who's done nothing but clerked, written opinions on this that or the other and has pretty much done everything the way they were supposed to could read the Fifth Amendment to the Constitution and decide that property rights are inviolable? Or do you really need a legal pedigree a mile long to decide such things?

3. So what if she's almost sixty. Who cares? I hesitate to point this out, but conservatives near and far bluntly rejected any criticism that Justice Roberts was too young to be the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. They claimed he should be judged on his ability to judge issues fairly with respect to the Constitution; that the age and experience card held no value as far as they were concerned.. Why, now that the shoe is on the other foot, is it not about abilities but rather about the tyranny of a life-time appointment and the threat that that lifetime might be too short?

In short, everyone is caterwauling over nothing right now. Just like with John Roberts we know squat about this nominee. But we'll find out more about her when she goes up for confirmation hearings, won't we? Which is how the system is supposed to work. Remember?

Honestly, I can't figure out if the caterwaulers are cheesed that Bush nominated a supposed moderate conservative or if it's because he's not playing the game the way they think he should.

Posted by Kathy at 02:38 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

Oy

We have another one to add to the "Achingly Stupid Names of Celebrities' Children" file.

Nicolas Cage---who married a woman half his age last year---is a proud papa again. His wife gave birth to a baby boy and they named him....

{insert drumroll here}

Kal-el Coppola Cage.

Kal-el, for those of you who might not follow the comic book world, is Superman's real name. Poor kid.

Posted by Kathy at 01:06 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack

October 02, 2005

It Bears Repeating

I don't belive John Lloyd covers any new ground in this piece from this weekend's Financial Times, but it bears repeating...just because:

{...}Its basis is the belief that a state requires security and retains interests and that any effort to impose a different politics on states of whose politics one disapproves is, as Henry Kissinger put it, international relations as social work.

This belief has found increasingly powerful challengers in the past two decades. They included such diverse elements as non-governmental organisations (NGOs), especially Amnesty (based in the UK), Human Rights Watch (US) and Medecins sans Frontieres (France); the liberation theology movement within Catholicism, most powerful in South America; Soviet-era dissidence in eastern Europe and the Soviet Union itself; the anti-apartheid struggle incarnated in the figure of Nelson Mandela; and a strong, if disguised, trend among journalists to act as the canaries-in-the-mine for oppression.

{...}It is a sad spectacle. Liberals and leftists who spent decades demanding that something must be done to end all sorts of repressions and foreign horrors, and denouncing theirs and other governments for refusing to end them, now denounce the British and US governments for having removed one of the great monsters of the late 20th century because blood was shed (and is still being shed) in the course of it. This isn’t debate about the manner of waging war: it is a smug, I-told-you-so (or I didn’t tell you but I am now) blast against apparent failure - usually oblivious to the consequences of that failure, especially on the ideals and practice that liberals and leftists claim to have espoused.

That the invasion of Iraq, as well as occasioning a long-running terrorist war, should, as the American scholar Thomas Cushman recently pointed out, also have “liberated a people from an oppressive, long-standing tyranny; destroyed an outlaw state that was a threat to the peace and security of the Middle East and the larger global arena in which terrorists operated, sponsored materially and ideologically by Iraq; brought the dictator Saddam Hussein to justice for his genocides [of the Kurds and the Marsh Arabs, as Human Rights Watch documented] and crimes against humanity; prevented the possibility of another genocide... restored sovereignty to the Iraqi people; laid the foundation for the possibility of Iraq becoming a liberal republic”, has no place in the charge sheets that liberals and leftists bring to bear against Bush and Blair.{...}

Posted by Kathy at 10:43 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Making the Most of Living in a College Town, Redux

Fausta went to see Condi speak at Princeton---and she reported on it.

Which is more than the New York Times or even the New Jersey Star Ledger could be bothered to do.

Go and read.

Posted by Kathy at 10:12 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

October 01, 2005

You Be The Judge

Miss Manners lists out her top five novels in today's Opinion Journal.

One opinion of hers might ring a bell with longtime devoted Cake Eater Readers:

1. "Emma" by Jane Austen (1816).

Before the injunctions "Be yourself" and "Express yourself" inspired so much bad behavior and art, sophisticated novelists were examining the social selves we invent, as indeed we must to face the world. Little Miss Do-Gooder, the unlikely heroine of this novel, exhibits the philanthropist's fatal flaw of acting on theory rather than on observation. Most impressively, that sly Miss Austen manages to engage our sympathies for a Georgian version of Paris Hilton whose motto is Everyone Wants to Be Me. The faults of Elizabeth Bennet of "Pride and Prejudice" and Marianne Dashwood of "Sense and Sensibility" are merely taking laudable traits--self-respect and romantic passion, respectively--to excess. But Emma Woodhouse is a rich, spoiled young busybody who imagines that everyone aspires to her lifestyle and that she is conferring the greatest of favors by bossing others around. So why do we ache to see her happily married to that nice, innocent gentleman?

Which leads to a very important question for you, my devoted Cake Eater Readers: were Robbo and Miss Manners separated at birth? Both are witty fussbudgets who, it seems, have a penchant for that notorious Austen twit, Emma Woodhouse. I think the case is made, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, but I shall let you be the judge.

UPDATE: Now, with links!

Posted by Kathy at 10:48 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack