Dodging tumbleweeds in the Pitstop of the Prairie, while wandering a little to the left. If you squint you can see Pike's Peak.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
They Got Nuthin'
"Yesterday I said that the GOP remains just as intellectually bankrupt and unimaginative as ever, but I need to amend that in light of Pence’s comments. If possible, the GOP has somehow managed to become even worse than it was in previous years. How else can you explain the desperate bid to reframe tax credits for small business as a job-killing measure? It is tax credits similar to these that the Republicans normally advocate as a matter of course, and it was this sort of thing that Republicans were demanding more of last year during the debate over the stimulus bill. Instead of recognizing this and trying to claim that the administration has adopted one of his party’s solutions, Pence is reduced to the absurdity of claiming that possible tax reduction on businesses that hire new employees is some revival of the dreaded Carter years."http://www.amconmag.com/larison/2010/01/29/mike-pence-republican-man-of-ideas/
Friday, January 29, 2010
Economic Performance of Presidential Administrations
Eh. Guess which party is better at job creation?
Chart at the link...
Economic Performance of Presidential Administrations
Chart at the link...
Economic Performance of Presidential Administrations
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Activist Judges
Emptywheel » Supreme Court Unleashes Corporate Campaign Cash In Citizen’s United Decision
Just when health insurance reform tubes under the creator/destroyers Democraps, Chief Justice John Roberts brings fascism to us once and for all.
This is horrible, people...
Just when health insurance reform tubes under the creator/destroyers Democraps, Chief Justice John Roberts brings fascism to us once and for all.
This is horrible, people...
Monday, January 18, 2010
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Heh
These came from the annual "Dark and Stormy Night" competition. Actual
analogies and metaphors found in high school essays:
1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently
compressed by a Thigh Master.
2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like
underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy
who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those
boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high
schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of
those boxes with a pinhole in it.
4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was
room-temperature Canadian beef.
5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just
before it throws up.
6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
7. He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.
8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because
of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a
formerly surcharge-free ATM.
9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling
ball wouldn't.
10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled
with vegetable soup.
11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie,
surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy
comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry
them in hot grease.
14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the
grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left
Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19
p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that
resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.
16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had
also never met.
17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East
River.
18. Even in his last years, Grandpappy had a mind like a steel trap, only
one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.
19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil,
this plan just might work.
21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating
for a while.
22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a
real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or
something.
23. The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg
behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with
power tools.
25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if
she were a garbage truck backing up.
26. Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any
pH cleanser.
27. She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
analogies and metaphors found in high school essays:
1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently
compressed by a Thigh Master.
2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like
underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy
who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those
boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high
schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of
those boxes with a pinhole in it.
4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was
room-temperature Canadian beef.
5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just
before it throws up.
6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
7. He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.
8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because
of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a
formerly surcharge-free ATM.
9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling
ball wouldn't.
10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled
with vegetable soup.
11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie,
surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy
comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry
them in hot grease.
14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the
grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left
Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19
p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that
resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.
16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had
also never met.
17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East
River.
18. Even in his last years, Grandpappy had a mind like a steel trap, only
one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.
19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil,
this plan just might work.
21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating
for a while.
22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a
real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or
something.
23. The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg
behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with
power tools.
25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if
she were a garbage truck backing up.
26. Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any
pH cleanser.
27. She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Haiti Didn't Become a Poor Nation All on Its Own -- The U.S's Hidden Role in the Disaster | | AlterNet
And the disaster capitalists are on their way in 3, 2.....
Haiti Didn't Become a Poor Nation All on Its Own -- The U.S's Hidden Role in the Disaster AlterNet
Haiti Didn't Become a Poor Nation All on Its Own -- The U.S's Hidden Role in the Disaster AlterNet
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Drug Addict Limpballs Speaks Again
Speaking on his radio show Wednesday, Limbaugh said the earthquake has played into Obama’s hands, allowing the president to look “compassionate” and “humanitarian” while at the same time bolstering his standing in both the “light-skinned and dark-skinned black community in this country.”
He added: “We've already donated to Haiti. It’s called the U.S. income tax.”
Hmmm. I thought he pretty much had the black community sewn up at the 2008 election. Using a natural disaster for political purposes? That's the specialty of your party, Rush.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Holiday Movie Review
The mailbag includes Netfix arrivals on an almost daily basis, and most of the time that's just fine with us. During the extended school Christmas vacation time for my husband results in us indulging in a visit to The Only Movie Theater in Pueblo to see an early showing of some cinema treat. Earlier this year it was 'The Hangover" a truly funny movie we shared with one other theater patron. This break it was "Invictus" and last week, "It's Complicated".
Now, I love me some Morgan Freeman. For years I'm been saying he deserved an Oscar - for Best Actor, not just Best Supporting, so I was looking forward to seeing what has been touted as most likely a long-deserved nomination for him. A great story highlighting the true story of a most amazing man. Could. Not. Miss. Except it did.
Everyone in the business will argue with me, but what a poorly made film. Halfway through I realized I was bored, watching the three scenes where Freeman, as Mandela, shakes hands with every man on the team. Then I started focusing on Freeman's paralyzed left hand, trying to ignore it like the elephant in the living room. I started to wonder which was worse - the direction or editing. After an hour of boredom at the inability for these people to tell a story with any dramatic action, I got angry. I turned to my husband as the credits started to roll and remarked "whoever directed this crap should be shot" when Clint Eastwood's name appeared as said villain. My mouth fell open. Clint? The guy who's good at directing? Yikes. Awful job.
Which brings us to the next Pueblo Theater adventure, "It's Complicated". The crowd laughed so loudly at some of the lines I couldn't hear the payoffs. What a delightful film, full of older, weathered, some paunchy actors who look just me. With Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin (Alec - if my husband should pass away in the next 25 years, call me) and Steve Martin, what's not to like? I loved that a romantic comedy was made with people over the age of 50 and the other viewers might have agreed as the theater was nicely close to full in the middle of the afternoon.
Alec Baldwin looks at Meryl's character with such love and longing (I'm not kidding, Alec, call me) it was touching and wonderful to think he wants to see this woman naked and she's not Megan Fox.
Now, I love me some Morgan Freeman. For years I'm been saying he deserved an Oscar - for Best Actor, not just Best Supporting, so I was looking forward to seeing what has been touted as most likely a long-deserved nomination for him. A great story highlighting the true story of a most amazing man. Could. Not. Miss. Except it did.
Everyone in the business will argue with me, but what a poorly made film. Halfway through I realized I was bored, watching the three scenes where Freeman, as Mandela, shakes hands with every man on the team. Then I started focusing on Freeman's paralyzed left hand, trying to ignore it like the elephant in the living room. I started to wonder which was worse - the direction or editing. After an hour of boredom at the inability for these people to tell a story with any dramatic action, I got angry. I turned to my husband as the credits started to roll and remarked "whoever directed this crap should be shot" when Clint Eastwood's name appeared as said villain. My mouth fell open. Clint? The guy who's good at directing? Yikes. Awful job.
Which brings us to the next Pueblo Theater adventure, "It's Complicated". The crowd laughed so loudly at some of the lines I couldn't hear the payoffs. What a delightful film, full of older, weathered, some paunchy actors who look just me. With Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin (Alec - if my husband should pass away in the next 25 years, call me) and Steve Martin, what's not to like? I loved that a romantic comedy was made with people over the age of 50 and the other viewers might have agreed as the theater was nicely close to full in the middle of the afternoon.
Alec Baldwin looks at Meryl's character with such love and longing (I'm not kidding, Alec, call me) it was touching and wonderful to think he wants to see this woman naked and she's not Megan Fox.
Parade of Roses 2010
The Rose Bowl Parade reminds me of the best of my time in Pasadena. The bleachers along California Ave. get set up right after Thanksgiving, reservations for New Year's Eve dinner (two seatings, fixed menu) at Monahan's Irish Pub on Lake started rolling in around Halloween. Parade-goers begin camping out on Colorado and adjacent streets December 20th. Exiting after my first New Year's Eve waitress shift about 3 a.m. found me immediately jumping left and right to avoid stepping on the limps and torsos of the bodies in sleeping bags packed together on the sidewalk directly outside the front door. Wandering down toward to Colorado to take a look, the street was teeming with people waiting out the next three hours partying, drinking, yelling, laughing, in and out of the various store fronts that all had kept their doors open to sell coffee and donuts along with their usual mom and pop stock in trade. Sidewalks, street pavement and lampposts were fair game for partiers. Cops on foot and horseback. It was hard to believe many couples and entire families were sleeping through the action. And there was a stabbing, but just one.
The next day, or rather five hours later, I rolled out of bed to straggle to the Carl's Jr. on Colorado a block away, ordering a breakfast pastry and coffee to consume seated on the sidewalk in relative solitude as I was two miles from the start of the parade and the crowds on the bleachers at the Norton Simon Museum. Grand Marshall James Stewart was rolling by in the Official Grand Marshall Vehicle. Several hours later the last of the bands were marching through, although several of the members passed out mid-step. I moved onto the park where the floats were on display, and at 12:30 or so they were admirable in the laborious work involved in pasting every daisy petal and iris stamen onto cardboard but the floats were fading fast. As in drooping and falling apart, the memory of a two-day marathon of sleepless volunteers pasting right up until netowrk time fading with the daisies.
The Rose Bowl Parade this year brought back fond memories (albeit via HDTV in Southern Colorado) and delivered some comedy gold. First off was the TelePrompter-driven narrative delivered by Nancy Somebody and everyone's favorite yo-yo dieter weatherman, Al Roker. He cheerfully announced the Ohio State School for the Blind Marching Band, each unsighted band member marching along accompanied by a sighted person at their elbow, insuring the tuba player marched in a straight line and avoided any horse poop form the previous six-member Blackfoot Horse Brigade of Greater Bozeman.
Next, Nancy What's-her-name read the TelePrompter script of the untimely and sad death of a dead person in somber, sympathetic tones as an official car motored past containing the waving and smiling family of the dead person whose death allowed the family access to a Tournament of Roses Rose Bowl Parade official car.
Good times.
The next day, or rather five hours later, I rolled out of bed to straggle to the Carl's Jr. on Colorado a block away, ordering a breakfast pastry and coffee to consume seated on the sidewalk in relative solitude as I was two miles from the start of the parade and the crowds on the bleachers at the Norton Simon Museum. Grand Marshall James Stewart was rolling by in the Official Grand Marshall Vehicle. Several hours later the last of the bands were marching through, although several of the members passed out mid-step. I moved onto the park where the floats were on display, and at 12:30 or so they were admirable in the laborious work involved in pasting every daisy petal and iris stamen onto cardboard but the floats were fading fast. As in drooping and falling apart, the memory of a two-day marathon of sleepless volunteers pasting right up until netowrk time fading with the daisies.
The Rose Bowl Parade this year brought back fond memories (albeit via HDTV in Southern Colorado) and delivered some comedy gold. First off was the TelePrompter-driven narrative delivered by Nancy Somebody and everyone's favorite yo-yo dieter weatherman, Al Roker. He cheerfully announced the Ohio State School for the Blind Marching Band, each unsighted band member marching along accompanied by a sighted person at their elbow, insuring the tuba player marched in a straight line and avoided any horse poop form the previous six-member Blackfoot Horse Brigade of Greater Bozeman.
Next, Nancy What's-her-name read the TelePrompter script of the untimely and sad death of a dead person in somber, sympathetic tones as an official car motored past containing the waving and smiling family of the dead person whose death allowed the family access to a Tournament of Roses Rose Bowl Parade official car.
Good times.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)