Monday, August 14, 2006

The Trouser Quandary Resolution: Little-Frigging-In-The-Wold Village School

The Trouser Quandary Resolution: Little-Frigging-In-The-Wold Village School

Monday, June 12, 2006

New Post over at Tattered Bits..

I posted my first real blarticle in a while over at Tattered Bits of Brain entitled "On the public's 'Right to Know.'"

I'm going to be pulling the plug on ol' Partisan Pundit here purty soon, and probably set up a auto-redirect page to refer any remaining visitors over there.

If you were ever kind enough to put a link on your site to my gutterwash, please be kind enough to update it to "Tattered Bits of Brain."

http://bitsofbrain.wordpress.com/

I'm also going to rebuilding my Blogroll, so if you've got a site and want it linked (I'll be keeping most of what I had before), let me know at partisanpundit(at)yahoo.com.

Peace, out.

Sunday, June 11, 2006

That there is some hard-nosed mutha$#@$*& reporting, there.

An Iraqi man who was one of the first people on the scene after an airstrike that led to the death of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi told Associated Press Television News that he saw American troops beating a man who had a beard like the al-Qaida leader.

The witness said he saw the man lying on the ground, badly wounded but still alive. He said U.S. troops arriving on the scene wrapped the man's head in an Arab robe and began beating him. His account cannot be independently verified.

So, lessee here. "Some guy" (read: an unamed source) saw "some guy with a beard" (read: coulda been Zarqawi), and said US troops beat him. And, being the concientous and dedicated professional journalists that we are, we are going to print his completely unsubstanitantiated, uncorroborated, unverified statement (read: utter bullshit) as though it were gospel truth.

Because we are the AP, and it's what we do.

Has it ever occured to these brainless twats that perhaps the reason this individual was the first guy to reach the bombing site was because he was already there?! Out watching Zarqawi's girlfriend goat or maybe the driver of the car that brought the "spiritual advisor" to meet him?

And why did they use the picture of Zarqawi holding the M249 all Rambo like, instead of the pasty, bloody remains of his face that everyone else is using?

I am, at times, embarrassed by my Journalism degree.

(h/t to Gut Rumbles, one of my new favorite blogs..)

Time to build an Ark

It has rained for two weeks straight here in Okinawa. Not just the usual oh, a little sun, a little rain. It has poured, nearly non-stop, for two solid weeks. No sun, clouds, water everywhere.

This is why I left Seattle. Well, that and the nightmarish traffic.

I think I'm starting to mold.

Thursday, June 08, 2006

DING DONG, THE WITCH IS DEAD!!!

Zarqawi is partying with the other 10,000 or so of his buddies hanging around Meccah or wherever it is they go.

I can only hope that is was a Marine F/A-18 that dropped the bomb on his despicable head.

And the response from our boys at Al Queda News and Views?
"We want to give you the joyous news of the martyrdom of the mujahed sheik Abu Musab al-Zarqawi,"

Damn straight, boys. It's joyous news indeed. Hear that? Coalition forces continue to spread joy in Iraq.

I could just sit around all day long thinking up innovative and creative ways to fill those Al Queda boys with all sort of joy and happiness. Yup, make it a full time avocation I could.

Update:

Did I mention already how DEAD Zarcheesi is?


Stolen from Six Meat Buffet

...and, sadly, it was apparently a couple of Air Farce F-16s which brough Zarqawi world suddenly crashing down around him. Oh well.

Monday, June 05, 2006

No, this time I mean it...

Remember those three jobs I talked about having, and how I was going to have to pitch in the towel on the whole blogging thing? And then everyone was all wailing, gnashing of teeth and carrying on about how I just couldn't, shouldn't, wouldn't DARE quit?

Well, I'm not quitting all the way.

There's plenty of other folks out there doing it as good or better than anything I can slop together in the few stolen moments between projects, i.e. - when I should probably be working on something that was due yesterday and I won't get done until tomorrow.

I invite you to wander by my only remaining blog effort, "Tattered Bits of Brain" for whatever random bit of cerebral effluvium flakes off of my cerebral cortex and drifts down to lay a fine layer of word-like dust across the screen, from time to time.

Other than that, go read Garfield Ridge or something.

Wednesday, May 31, 2006

The power of nature

Some of these are pretty heart-wrenching.


Indonesia photobooks
Central Java earthquake

http://indahnesia.com/photobook/36/central_java_earthquake.php

Monday, May 29, 2006

For the lazy and indifferent...

Tthis seems kind of like non-alcoholic wine and sugar-free candy.

The Ropeless Jump-Rope

Thursday, May 25, 2006

Canned Coffee Review

Living in Japan, I've gotten to experience the many joys of Canned Coffee. There is even a website out there devoted to "reviews" of various canned coffees.

...And since the elitist pig wont bother to print any of the 73 emails I sent him, I decided to write one myself! HaH! That'll show 'em. And soooo....


Dydo "Black"

This is angry coffee. Bitter, angry coffee. This coffee has serious issues. Ever since Black’s father ran off with that frothy, decaf cappuccino, well, he’s never been the same. This coffee is full of pent up aggression and unresolved angst. You can always find a can of coffee like this pushing other, smaller cans down on the playground and stealing their lunch money. Oh, sure, that’s how it all starts. A little harmless “fun.” Pretty soon, though, he’s a thug enforcer for some two-bit, petty hood, shaking down old men and scared kids for the chump change he calls “protection money.”

Years later, he’s a dried up, empty shell of a can. Life has been a dark road of bad choices and worse consequences. No friends, no family, no one who give a tinker’s damn about you except the old half-blind Eurasian hooker who only hangs out with you because your own self-pity and loneliness inevitably translate into free smokes, the occasional highball glass full of cheap rotgut Folgers, and maybe a quick pop of your top in the dank confines of some corner in the storeroom of a run-down, has-been coffee bar on the backside of nowhere.

This coffee isn’t just angry, it’s mean. I toss back a slug of the viscous, black liquid, and it assaults my tongue like the back-handed “love” of an abusive spouse. A haze falls before my eyes, and I’m transported, I can see it all, like I was standing there when it happened. The charcoal taste lingers, coats, corrodes, like the time he clamped on to the old shopkeeper’s tongue with a pair of grimy, rusty vice grips. And pulled. Pulled until the tongue of the poor sap who’d come up short on a payment to Lenny the loan shark was stretched out like the red carpet for a Hollywood premier day. Black takes a long slow drag on a cheap, hand-rolled cigarette, and then slowly rubs the burning stub into a crumbled ash against the shopkeeper’s savaged taste buds.

I suddenly snap back to reality, much like the old man’s tongue snapped back into his mouth after the vice grips were removed.

This coffee leaves a bitter aftertaste, a lingering calling card that promises more violence if its demands aren’t met. I find myself laughing an empty, mirthless laugh. I take another long, slow look at this thug, this violent punk of a coffee, and with a negligent flick of my wrist, dump the half-empty can into the trash. I walk away feeling abused, violated, and somehow even…well…dirty.

Then, from somewhere behind me, I can almost swear I hear a voice filled with the deepest sarcasm and bitter resignation, tinged with just the barest hint of childish petulance call out, “Go ahead. Leave. That’s what they all do. You’re no different.”

Somehow, I can’t seem to dredge up any pity for the little bastard.

None. None at all.

Saturday, May 20, 2006

Basic Physics in the 24th century.

Okay, so I'm watching "Next Generation" like the trekkie geek that I am, only, I've got a real problem. Well, I mean, besides being a trekkie geek. 'Cuz like I'm watching this episode where Geordie (sp?!) and the rebellious, mouthy Bejouran (sp?!) chick get all phase-shifted whilst transporting betwixt two ships cuz some Romulan gizmo went all haywire. So anyway, they can see the Enterprise and crew, but the crew can't see them, seeinz how theyz is all phase shifted like.

So how come THEIR eyes work and can see the stuff which is technically out of phase to THEM, but the crew can't see them cuz they are out of phase...by exactly the same fa-reakin' margin?

And so in one seen, a Romulan dude who was also phase shifted is sitting in a chair. In the next scene, Roe, Row, Rho, whatever is passing her hand all through a table and a computer monitor. The fu...? So how come the dude can sit in an out-of-phase chair, but chica can walk through a table?

Then later they are in this big chase scene and running through bulkheads like they ain't there, what with them all being out of phase, but then Rho trips and falls to the floor with a grunt from the impact. A fight ensues and Romulan dude gets kicked through the side of the ship into space (silent gasp of dismay). So, if the walls don't work, and tables and computers are like air, THEN WHY DOES THE %$@#^&ING FLOOR WORK? Is there some special phasedness to their shoes that keeps them from sliding through the floor like they do the walls and tables, hmmm?

And near the end of the episode Jeordee talks about how hungry he is not having had anything to eat or drink for two days. So if you can't eat out of phase food, how does the out of phase AIR work in your contra-phased lungs?!

And when you set the Romulan phaser on overload, and then dove behind the bar for "cover," minutes after repeatedly demonstrating that the phaser's energy goes through everything in the "real" ship like it was thin air?

And, since you are out of phase with the Enterprise, you would be unaffected by its momentum or intertia, and so as soon as it changed direction, you would continue in the original direction, as bulkead after bulkhead and finally the ship's hull slid past on the new vector until you were left standing on space.

One of the most scientifically boneheaded epidsodes I think I've ever seen.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

On the Davinci code

I found the book to be an engaging and entertaining read. Of decidedly dubious theolgoy, but a fun book nonetheless.

I by no means took it to be theologically definitive, and thus enjoyed it immensely.

Dan Brown gets to be wrong about a great many things, and I still get to enjoy reading his books.

I guess I have to turn in my Fundie Card.