I just had the misfortune to watch The Day After Tomorrow on my DVR. I wonder if the screenwriters for this movie are posters to the DU--they sure seem to blame all the world's ills on the US, and so do the makers of this movie.
It was bad enough when Roland Emmerich made Godzilla into a giant marine iguana. I mean, the Godzilla mythos is that a dinosaur type creature was mutated by atomic bombs into a radiation breathing, Tokyo stomping monster. Emmerich made Godzilla a marine iguana mutated by French atomic tests. Now everyone knows I don't like French politicians; but my Uncle Hiawatha lives over there with his wife and son, and I don't wish ill on the French (well, not usually).
Emmerich seems to decide every few years that someone is to blame for all the world's ills, and this time, it is the US. Before, it was space aliens (and scientists--Brent Spiner's role in Independence Day), then the French (and scientists--like in previous movies, he treats them like they are really inept), and now us (and in this one, he just gives up and really hates scientists--portraying all of them as raving moonbats). Why does the guy hate everybody, especially scientists?
I think Emmerich must have failed science in grade school and decided all scientists were part of a cult trying to keep him from succeeding. Emmerich doesn't realize that most scientists think the only experiment Emmerich has ever successfully completed was how to mix his party favors for Hollywood parties.
On a side note: The only group of scientists who are generically moonbats are anthropologists; speaking as another type of social scientist (an economist), I always believe the anthropologists who studied ancient Egypt were okay guys. Most of the rest of them suck. Especially the ones who study Native Americans. They treat Native Americans like we aren't currently alive. Unlike some people, I don't believe Kennewick Man is a Native American (he's too damn ugly), but I don't believe all of us are museum pieces either. I don't want to find out the great-grandpa who taught my dad how to hunt rabbits with home-chipped arrow points is in someone's exhibit. Hell, I don't want to find out that his arrow points are in someone's damn exhibit either.
Anthros want to have it both ways; they want to tell me how to treat other cultures, but reserve for themselves the right to objectify my anscestors as dead, stuffed fish. Cultures are living, active organizations; hopefully mutating in a positive way, but have to fixed when they turn into a cancer. Anthropologists want the culture, good or bad, to be there for them to study--too bad for those people who die, but there is always a price for their academic freedom. Pity the poor suckers who pay that price.
As reported by CNN, a pod of dolphins surrounded some lifeguards off the New Zealand coast. The four swimmers were herded together by the dolphins--initially worrying the swimmers until one of them saw the 9 foot long Great White shark. The dolphins circled the swimmers for forty minutes, until the danger apparently passed.
UPDATE: According to to The Scotsman, two of the pod of dolphins that saved the swimmers are believed to have been killed by poachers.
Rio Grande turkeys strut across my parents' ranch in South Texas, and every once in awhile we are lucky enough to see them. I didn't take the picture below, it is from Wulff Cedar Creek Ranch, who posted it on Bowhunting.net. This pair of toms are just beautiful.
We used to raise bronze turkeys, and for several years, we would take them (and our APA and ABA show chickens) to what ever elementary my kids happened to be at, and show them to the children. The kids would get so excited. Our favorite bronze tom was extremely tame; at home he would sit in our laps like a puppy. At the schools, he seemed to know everyone was looking at him, and he would do the turkey strut and gobble and the children just loved it.
At this Thanksgiving, those kinds of memories are the ones I am thankful for--my kids laughing and proud of their birds, the school children smiling and curious, and my husband and I enjoying helping city kids see something up close that they might never see outside a zoo.
I am thankful for my daughters, Jessica, Christine, and Alyssa, for my husband Ron (who will work a straight 24 hour shift at Starbucks today), for my sisters, my nieces, my nephews, my parents, and my in-laws. I don't deserve to have such a great family, but feel blessed and happy that I have them just the same.
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you and your families.
2 cans of sweet potatoes (AKA (incorrectly) "yams") 1 cup brown sugar 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg 2 whole cloves 2 bags of mini-marshmallows
1) Eat half a bag of marshmallows before the turkey is even put on. Moral support often comes in the form of fluffy high fructose corn syrup.
2) Put the yams, brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves in a large pan, and put the lid on. Heat to boiling, and let it boil for ~15 minutes.
3) Dump in most of the remaining half-bag of marshmallows on top of the yams and recover with the lid (NOT the pumpkin pie!), to let the marshmallows melt.
4) Forget the existence of said yams for about 10 minutes. (Length of time is dependant on one's personal ability to keep track of five other dishes at once, while coordinating finding Stuff to eat food with, as well as Convenient Memory amount vs normal operating RAM).
5) Re-discover the yams, and upon taking lid off, discover that all the marshmallows have melted into nothingness, and add the remaining handful of marshmallows from the open bag on top, and immediately move pan to table (not forgetting to turn off the stove eye). By the time all plates, forks, spoons, food, chairs, and people have been located and put near/on/by the table, the marshmallows will have melted into a nice fluffy patchwork layer on top of the yams.
6) After Thanksgiving Dinner has been worn off by watching The Big Game or other, similar, high-energy activties (computers games, movies, marathon-napping), the second bag of marshmallows is one's treat for leaving a whole half-bag of marshmallows uneaten in the first place.
A story I first read about on Fark; some lady in New Zealand had dead snakes in a jar. She and her partner got in an arguement, and she got hurt. The ambulance was called, and the EMS people called the cops. When the cops got there, they found pot plants, so they had enough evidence to search the entire place.
They found two snakes in a large jar, and they confiscated them.
When the lady got home from her injury, she realized the cops had taken her snakes. So she took two dead preserved kittens (according to her, they had been stillborn from her cat) to the police station and then threw them at the clerk's counter. According to her, she said
"I walked in the door and said, 'You've taken my snakes - here, have my pussy as well', and slammed the jar on to the counter."
Uh, I wonder if in New Zealand "pussy" means the same as it does here....that sounds more like an invitation to party.
You may notice a difference in the way the site looks--Jessica was having problems reading the white lettering on the slate background, so I changed it for her.
Military City is a gateway site to the Military Times from all four main branches of the military. Military people can request penpals, discuss their situations, and find out how things are going at home.
His Imperial Kittenness' stitches are out. And he behaved very well at the vet's office, only kicking a little once, on the belly stitches (which were whip stitches, not so nice to pull out as the separated stitches). Vet was nice, though, and kept the extra line clipped to a minimum so it wouldn't hurt so bad. He needs to go back in about two weeks for his shots (we've been waiting until he's been healed/well to do them, because shots do make the animals sick for several days sometimes). However, I'm pretty sure he's equating "outside" to "vet visit" because his worst behavior for the entire episode was when I picked him up and started heading to the back door to take him. He freaked out, as bad as if one of the dogs had just barked at him. I actually had to crate him on the drive over, Christine sat in the back seat with him. After his stitches were out, he crawled into my arms and refused to be budged until we'd made it home and I got out to get the gate. (He wasn't happy about being more-or-less forcibly handed to Christine, either, when she took him.) Then I brought him back into the house, and it still took him a few minutes to return to more-or-less his normal behavior. I think he was scared he was going to be left there again. However, he finally ate, and has now forgiven me again.
The vet was very pleased with how well the wounds had healed up, and he seems to think that the belly thing is now just potbelliness, from eating so much. (He was also pleased with how well he behaved, and I agree. Stitches hurt like a b*tch to get taken out.) And the vet weighed him, too, at my request (we have to start the second set of worming tonight). He now weighs 5 pounds, 4 ounces. (!!) The only statistics we could find online indicate that the weight at 12-14 weeks should be doubled to get an approximate adult weight. And he's a day shy of 12 weeks. So at least a 10 pound cat ... and when you consider our other two are ~6.5-8 pounds ... he's going to be quite a bit bigger than either of them. And once he gets used to not having the stitches in, mom thinks he's going to be even more energetic and playful.
And my entire response to her comment on that was "Meep!".
The double funeral for my sleep and life will be scheduled when I find the energy and time between his demands to play to do so ...
CBS News, which is not known for it's accuracy or honesty, does a hit piece on DeLay citing an anonymous "official"--who must be none other than Earle himself. Since the Republicans changed the rules so DeLay can stay House Majority Leader, and Earle can't screw DeLay over that way, he does it by hiding behind CBS (better known as See BS).
As a member of Tom DeLay's district, I am sick of Ronnie Earle and his partianship ego games--he is the DA of Travis County and he is screwing with the representative of Brazoria County. Why doesn't he go after people in his owncounty and leave everyone else the hell alone? It's called A BIG EGO. Here's to hoping he loses his next election. And as far as CBS is concerned--of the broadcast networks, they are last in the ratings, a ranking they richly deserve.
"The attitude of the scientists ... was these were political prisoners, they were as good as dead anyway, and therefore, utilizing them for experiments held really no moral implications whatsoever."
These prisoners were gassed. Some took hours to die. Why isn't this all over the MSM instead of one Syrian terrorist killed by an American Marine?
Well, I think everyone knows the answer to that...
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