Sure, After Sunset, Before Moonrise

My favorite rock.
Yep, them's stars, not dirt on the lens. Or lint on your screen.
Rock with night shutter.













Now, rock with rain clouds.










Evening rock from my tent.

Reprinted In Full

Barack Obama has so ably repaired the once frayed ties with our Bush-abused allies that UK Prime Minister Gordon Brown couldn’t do us the minute favor of keeping the convicted mass murderer of American citizens from being sprung and delivered into a Libyan hero’s welcome.

Hillary Clinton has been so levelheaded (so nonideological) in her pursuit of improved relations with Libya that Muammar Qaddafi simply had to meet terrorist Abdel Basset al-Megrahi at the airport to hug and kiss him and proclaim his love for both the killer and the British Crown before the world.

This is what all that goodwill and all those apologies have reaped? The unprecedented coupling of our best friend with one of our worst enemies?

And considering that this was all probably orchestrated in the interest of opening up British-Libya oil ties, the old nugget “blood for oil” seems particularly apt.

Hey, the important thing is: no more cowboy diplomacy, right? No more go-it-alone, unilateral, with-us-or-against-us, good-and-evil hooey. That was for simpletons. We’re in the hands of geniuses now.

So there’s no need for us mere mortals to get wee-weed up. The amount of gray matter that’s gone into this exquisitely calibrated foreign policy is beyond the grasp of regular folks like you and me. President Obama and Hillary Clinton have Qaddafi exactly where they want him. And Gordon Brown—you thought Tony Blair was Bush’s poodle? The same goes for Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, of course, and Kim Jong-il, not to mention all Europe, Africa, Asia, and the Americas. Remember, we became universally adored last November 4. If you’re not feeling the love yet,
you’re just being ideologically rigid.

Smart power knows no ideology. Smart power, recall, is about approaching the proper problem at the proper moment with the proper tool. So look to the geniuses: the moment is now, the problem is our evaporating grasp on world affairs, and the selected tool? A little vacation time on the beach.

See also: David Pryce-Jones

Reality

Meanwhile, back where men do what men gotta do.

Don't read Yon if you don't want to, but scroll through his photographs.







24 August 2009
Helmand Province, Afghanistan
The British soldiers of 2 Rifles had a mission: clear and hold Pharmacy Road.

Class Will Tell

Mercy of Fools

“He Who is Compassionate to the Cruel
Will Ultimately Become
Cruel to the Compassionate”
"Through the Mercy of Fools all Justice is lost." --Ramban

Even The Tanning Bed Media Starts To Get It

Caster Oyl

Man or Woman?

The African family and friends of the runner who struck gold in the women's 800 metres at the World Athletics Championships but now faces sex tests hit out yesterday at claims she could be a man.
And South African Caster Semenya was also backed by her government, who called her the country's 'golden girl' and a role model for young athletes.
Caster, whose rapid improvement over the last year raised eyebrows, won the women's title with a crushing performance in Berlin on Wednesday.
The governing body of world athletics, the IAAF, has asked South Africa to test their star 18-year-old's gender after her muscular physique and extraordinary performances sparked speculation over whether she is really female.
But her proud mother Dorcus Semenya declared: 'I know who and what my child is. Caster is all girl, and no one can change that.'

Whaddya mean that's not a photo of Miss Caster?
Wait. That can't be you-know-who.
My apologies to the Semenyas family.

Shabbat Shalom

How Obamacare Works In The British Empire, Finer Points Division

You'll Feel Like a Kid Again
- Mark Steyn -

I think this is what those heartless American insurers would call a pre-existing condition:
A paedophile with a 30-year history of abusing children is being prescribed Viagra on the NHS - and there is nothing the authorities can do to stop him.

National Health Service. Heh.
Shared via AddThis

Yeah, Tonight, Hollywood Bowl

It's just a test. It's not your life.

Sure, 66, Last Week

Librarian Killed By Dogs

Coroner: Wild dogs killed Ga. woman, then husband
Aug 18 03:53 PM US/Eastern
By KATE BRUMBACK

LEXINGTON, Ga. (AP) - An elderly woman killed by a pack of wild dogs had been out for a walk when she was attacked, and her husband died trying to fight off the mauling animals when he discovered the bloody scene near their rural Georgia home, authorities said Tuesday.

Elderly? She was 65 for chrissakes. That's the geezer zone.

Where's Michael Vick When You Need Him?

Prince of Darkness

RIP

“Ours is one of the mildest, most benevolent governments in the world. But it too has the power to take your wealth and forfeit your life. ... A government that can give you everything can take everything away.”

Oh yeah, born Jewish, died Roman.

Pinchin' Pennies

''It's called passive euthanasia,'' said Dr. Norman Fost, director of the Program in Medical Ethics at the University of Wisconsin. ''You can ask who's involved and is it really consensual, but there is no question that these are planned deaths. We know who is dying. Patients aren't just found dead in their beds.''
Catch that phrase? "Planned Deaths."
A deliberate decision is made to withhold treatment -- because of costs -- and let someone die.

Ready, Aim, Fire

One more reason why I love the USA

Don't get angry, neighbor, just shoot -- empty the magazine -- and reload.

It's for the children! Heh.

Hip Hip Hooray

Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death Panels - Mark Steyn -

What matters is the concept of a government "panel." Right now, if I want a hip replacement, it's between me and my doctor; the government does not have a seat at the table. The minute it does, my hip's needs are subordinate to national hip policy, which in turn is subordinate to macro budgetary considerations.

Shared via AddThis

Later I could full disclosure my ancient brief history with Mr. Steyn.

Government "panels" making "rulings" over your body: Acceptance of that concept is what counts.

Why, I Remember This One Sunday In New Mexico...

Yeah every day was great, and mileagewise some days were better than others.
Not each day, but some days, some two-lane blacktop days, were su-weet:

That's:
American
Internal combustion
Gasoline powered
Automatic transmission
6 cylinder
Not hybrid
SUV (Smallish)
4WD
Ford
2009
Windows open
Totin' all'o'my stuff
American -- did I say that already?

Not saying I git that kinda mileage here in LA up and down the hill to work, cuz I don't. But I did on the trip road. More days than one.
Think it's epa rated 17/24.

White Supremacy!!!

Just Saying.

Headline of the Day Month Year Century

Black Man Pleads Guilty
to Posing as Obama-Hating
White Supremacist on Facebook
This is what annoys me about New Media. It took me years of hard work to develop a notorious reputation as an Obama-hating white supremacist. These kids -- Dyron L. Hart is a mere lad of 20 -- think they can jump online and become a hatemongering sensation overnight. And they don't realize that impersonating a bigot is a federal offense.

Where's the respect? Where's the tradition? I got no problem with college kids trying to bring some fake-Facebook diversity to the Obama-hating movement, but they need to acknowledge the fact that they stand on the shoulders of giants . . .

(Via Instapundit.)

Thanks, Other McCain

Contento HOPES Dyron likes prison and stuff.

What, you don't admire Clayton Bigsby?

Doggy Training

Lit Interlude

From the kids' summer reading list:

JOHN H. MCWHORTER
Thus Spake Zora
Zora Neale Hurston’s writing challenged black people as well as white.

Earlier Today

Okay so I'm back in Californy, on the 15 heading west-southerly, north of Barstow at a rest area, shirtless in the windy desert deserty wind -- sun so bright I cannot see what I type -- sun so bright and heat so hot that my genetically youthful face wrinkles uncharacteristicaly -- it's that 110 degree baking dry heat that I seek out and love.

Rest Area Aside: I know there's a subculture of men who have sex in public bathrooms, and a subsub culture of those who specialize in rest area bathrooms. The bathrooms at this rest area, like most rest area bathrooms, stink. The excretory odors of bodily waste. Stranger stank. How is that a draw for sex? I never get it.

Anyway, here at this multicultural southern California rest area in the August heat numerous Asians are smoking; boy and girl Asians all lit up and puffing in the 110 degree shaded area.

When I get to Barstow I will take a right over to Mohave and then a left down toward LA and the Valley, stopping in Rosamond for a grilled cheese in loving memory of  Mrs. Contento. She loved getting her grilled cheeses there at the Foster Freeze. One for me, two for her. Just the buttery smell of the toasted cheesy goodness would temp her to wolfsnap at me as she waited to dine with me in the Escapay. Though rolling solo now, I still punctuate most of my trips with this gustatory ritual.

Speaking of fragrances, I've washed up, of course, on this trip, soaping and scrubbing appropriately -- I know how to keep it all clean while camping -- but no deodorant in weeks. My own fresh desert scent just now reaches my nostrils, teaching me what pheromones are all about. Fragrant like dat, no wonder I'm an object of attraction. Would I do me? Asked'n'answered.

Satelite oddities: GPS is showing the Bun Boy Motel merely 27.6 miles ahead. I knew of the Bun Boy Restaurant, but never noticed the motel feature. Wonder where they got that name? What's a Barstow bun boy? I'll have to look that up.

I'm back in the Escapay now. Let's see if I can post this sad homeward-bound message from the hot trip road.

Shabbat Shalom

seloha

Chesed

I'm having breakfast -- the first since Gallup 9 days ago -- that was one unfortunate fast breaking experience -- please don't ask. So anyway I'm hungry. Mark, the young waitron, is distantly attentive; and I'm eating it all and I'm enjoying it all. My focus is food. Food that hasn't come out of my cooler, food that someone else cooked. Hey, didn't even pick up the free newspaper that comes with booth rental. Hell, I'm momentarily self sufficient.

And then this OLD couple -- like 60 years really OLD -- comes in and sits behind me and immediately they turn on cartoons on the tv in their dining booth.
Loud.
Lord.
Every booth with a screen connecting to narrowcast shite seems to be a selling point for this joint.

This time'o'day, admittedly, real cartoons are better than cartoonish Matt Lauer -- or his idiot's ilk, so counting my blessings is what up to I should be.

That, and not telling the coupled couple: TV beats looking at each other, donit? Why point out the obvious to the oblivous?

Still: If I wanted television I'd -- oh nevermind.

What makes me certain I have long-outlived my allotted span of understanding and lovingkindness? Well, I would shoot them both -- and the flatscreen -- were I armed. Then we'd all approach happiness.

Next up: That other jibberjabbering ahole with the cell phone going on over there.

NTTAWWT

______________________________________________________________
Yes that's my shoulder in the bright adidas cyan. What, you think I only do drab, that I can't color it up?
______________________________________________________________
PS KCD, responding to this, notes: You can conceal and carry in ALL states but IL and WI - coincidence?

Coincidence indeed.
Now, I'm not sure of the accuracy of the conceal'n'carry laws, but KCD's point is that I (ME) (moi) grew up in Wisconsin and Illinois, hence each state's hesitation to licence such as Contento...

Swimming Alone, Heh

Above Davis Dam, below Hoover Dam.

Contento & His Friends In Monument Valley

Hey, just click to enlarge.





Yeah, that was acoupla days ago.

Judge: Yawns Should Neither Be Seen Nor Heard

Shut Yer Mouth:
Man Gets 6 Months for Yawning
Strict judge issues 6 months jail time for "loud and boisterous" yawn
By MATT BARTOSIK

Hear, hear. A judge one can believe in.

Another From the RayBan Series

Camille Paglia

CP


Sample:

Oh, one last note. Gay trivia: The 17-year-old hustler who in 1975 murdered the gay film director Pier Paolo Pasolini by repeatedly running him over with his own car on an Italian beach was named Giuseppe Pelosi. Hmm ... Hustling must run in the family.

From the "You Stay Out of the Porn Store" Files

Find The Gentleman

Good Cop Update.
Eat my dust, suckers.














Now, compare that to you-know-who. Miss him yet?
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