Showing posts with label Curious George. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Curious George. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

General Casey, Dr. Phil -- Leave It To The Women To Man Up Around Here

Dorothy Rabinowitz demolishes Dr. Phil and the General

His terrorist motive is obvious to everyone but the press and the Army brass.

What is hard to ignore, now, is the growing derangement on all matters involving terrorism and Muslim sensitivities. Its chief symptoms: a palpitating fear of discomfiting facts and a willingness to discard those facts and embrace the richest possible variety of ludicrous theories as to the motives behind an act of Islamic terrorism. All this we have seen before but never in such naked form. The days following the Fort Hood rampage have told us more than we want to know, perhaps, about the depth and reach of this epidemic.

I don't have time today, or in this life, and I suspect neither does America. At least the America that still has a swingin' set of ovaries like Ms. Rabinowitz does, toting more testosterone in her set than do, apparently, our Army generals tote in their testicles -- assuming they still have sacs worthy of the name.

Dr. Phil? What would one expect? He ran with Oprah for years. So, apparently, do generals. I know a Commander in Chief who does. And all that has gotten us is futher ninnyism.

H/T to Bill Bennett who spoke of Rabinowitz this a.m. And who, by-the-by, featured Steve Forbes on his show this morning too. Saw Forbes at the Reagan Library last week. He was his usual excellent self. Succinct like that. This morning? Speaking with Dr. Bennett he called the Army general's sad political correctness dance lethal nonsense. I think that was the term. Easy to believe these days a guy like Forbes is more the man than General Casey.

One might expect, or be not surprised, by such nonsense from the pulpit -- more on that when I get the time -- and from the Phil couch and the Oprah couch -- but not from our military leaders. General Patton where are you?

And H/T to Jennifer Rubin.

PS Rabinowitz is so good today that Rubin did not offer any commentary. Nice.
PS2 Notice Rabinowitz called it a rampage, not a spree. Spree is a girlyword.
Kill the bastards dead. I understand that. More importantly, so do they.
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Recommended Reading for this morning: Do a Google blog search for General Casey. Blogs, I said, not news. It ain't pretty. As the truth so often is ain't.
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Late Morning Update: You know I love me a good illustration and Stogie gives us this gem over at Sabertooth.
Duck fiversity.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Merci, mon ami

This blogging works. No sooner did I mention the Little Sparrow than one of my readers -- you know who you are -- Fed-ex-overnighted me the definitive, live, Piaf au Carnegie Hall (in 1956 & 1957) cd.

Tres bon.

That, along with the bonus cd of Johnny (and June Carter) Cash she sent rounds out nicely the tunes being gathered for this road trip. My generous reader may not remember (couldda been within that 21-day (yes, I counted) period when she wouldn't speak to me) but back when she was in law school I went to see Mr. & Mrs. Cash out in Maryland. Had to sit through a horse show first -- alotta jumping -- was this pre- or post- Superman's broken neck? -- can't remember -- then Johnny and June came out riding in a white surrey with a fringe on top and sang a nice selection of songs. Soberer times then, but weren't those the days?

Nephew D----, who thinks -- and is probably correct in so thinking -- that I should cancel this mortoring eastward thing and spend the summer surfing with him down at San Onofre and other spots along the Orange Coast, already gave me some CCR and alotta Jack Johnson for my days along the blue highways. When J--- M saw I was uploading Jack Johnson she said she didn't know I liked him, he not being Enrique Morales or a Los Lonely Boy or Michael Jackson -- my listening/dancing staples. Surpriseamundo. There are alotta things about me not generally noticed by the general public. But they're no less true for not being noticed. Hey, my tastes are ecclectic. I like Snoop Dogg and Vestal Goodman. Yeah. I'm bipolar. And the only thing I'm missing from JJ is the soundtrack to Curious George. I'll rip that from someone's collection one of these days. Meanwhile, see George read.