If the Hat Fits, Wear it

Happy Halloween, y’all.

Run Away Run Away

(Zombie get the credit…)

Dawgly Baptism

Go Dawgs!

(h/t Peach Pundit)

Feel that Chillary Wind?

I’ll start the Halloween office pool and buy the first square – YES. I bet if you look hard enough at the pending election of Evita Jr (h/t Fausta), you’ll find a trail of money back to Hillary. Remember last TV season, when the Hollywood sycophants dished out a program highlighting a woman president? More money, from you-know-who.

Speaking of Fausta, check out her inaugural Carnival of Latin America. Cool stuff. Amazing parallels…no only to America, but to Cuba as well. Venezuela will be the Cuba of our children’s time.

A former President and great man saw a another former President and First Spouse hopeful for what he really was/is.

Gerald Ford was disturbed by Bill Clinton’s skirt-chasing ways – and thought he should check into a sex addiction clinic.

A new book on the late 38th President reveals he had strong views about the Clintons: He thought Hillary wore the pants and that Bill couldn’t keep his zipped.

“He’s sick – he’s got an addiction. He needs treatment,” Ford told Daily News Washington Bureau Chief Thomas M. DeFrank, author of “Write It When I’m Gone: Remarkable Off-the-Record Conversations with Gerald R. Ford.”

Nailed that one. (No pun intended…)

Michelle has a great round-up on the frightful specter of Hillary.

Who needs a Hillary mask when you can just copy some of Zombie’s pictures and PhotoShop your own?

For more Hillary Homework, check out The Anchoress – she has a WHOLE CATEGORY devoted to her very own Senator.

Be afraid, be very afraid.

Ahhh…That Afterglow

The Afterglow of the most awesomest, massive Gator Whuppin’….. it will last all week. Maybe for the rest of the season.

Once a Dawg, Always a Dawg, How Sweet it is!

24 version 7.0

The trailer for season 7 is up!

(h/t) Fausta

Let the BauerFest begin!

UPDATE: I thought I recognized one of those new faces….Jeff Nordling, who played Tom Burnett on the TV film Flight 93.

No Soup for You

Because sooner or later…soup is made from water. And since Georgia won’t have any water at all in a couple of months because all the politicians are acting like spoiled brats, we’ll all be eating red dirt. I wonder what the Soup Nazi would think of that?

Taking their cues from the morons that infest the Big House of Gub’mint , Georgia officials are calling press conferences and lobbing verbal bombs and lawsuits at their neighbors. (And FYI, I WAS in Alabama last weekend. I must say, the lakes and streams I saw were a little low, but still lovely.) I’m sorry, but how is all this posturing, tying up courts and lawyers and such, going to help us flush toilets tomorrow? If Al Gore would only show with his posse of GlobalWarmingAlarmistJihadistas, at least it would result in a little precip.

In our little county, the water Nazis are out in full force. If you are caught watering outside at ALL, your water is immediately cut off . Speaking of our little county, another local blogger, Andrew at Losing Georgia, keeps a great blog where he shows through pictures how rural Georgia, especially west of Atlanta, is being changed by over-development and forced urbanization. He has put together a series on the reserviors at Sweetwater Creek State Park. First look here to see what the waters of the park normally look like. Then look at Losing Georgia here ,here and here.

All this, just a mile from my house. Just the other day, driving home from work, I went through the park. I’ve been avoiding it lately – it is just too sad. There was a family standing in what would have been the middle of the lake, feeding a crowd of ducks and geese.

Please Lord, open your heavens and send us some rain!

Word Fun

Work and home, home and work, work and home; so much to do, so little time. So in the interest of cosmic wordsmithing, enjoy these funnies from the WaPo’s Mensa Invitational of 2005:

1. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.

2. Ignoranus: A person who’s both stupid and an asshole.

3. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.

4. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

5. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

6. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.

7. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.

8. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn’t get it.

9. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

10. Hipatitis: Terminal coolness.

11. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)

12. Karmageddon: It’s like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it’s like, a serious bummer.

13. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.

14. Glibido: All talk and no action.

15. Dopeler effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

16. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you’ve accidentally walked through a spider web.

On Retreats and Waiting for the Next Explosion

Well, another marriage retreat is under my belt. The weather was beautiful, there were a few trees trying to show some fall colors and the fellowship was fun.

As I sat through the sessions, it occurred to me at one point that under Sharia law, none of this would be happening. The men and women couldn’t be in the same rooms, the women couldn’t talk to their friend’s husbands, we’d have to eat apart as well. We couldn’t play the hilarious Newlywed game, and heaven forbid, talk about married sex! No jokes, no card games, no Bibles, no books. We would have had to meet in secret since we’re Christian and our small Sunday worship service would be illegal.

I tucked my little thoughts away, because after all, I was on retreat to rest and recharge and put the world on the back-burner for a couple of days.

Then Fausta posted a link to an excellent article over at City Journal by André Glucksmann. It all barreled back to me like that scene in “Somewhere in Time” when Christopher Reeve saw the penny. Outstanding – as they say, read the whole thing. Just a teeny tid-bit:

A better definition of terrorism is a deliberate attack by armed men on unarmed civilians. Terrorism is aggression against civilians as civilians, inevitably taken by surprise and defenseless. Whether the hostage-takers and killers of innocents are in uniform or not, or what kind of weapons they use—whether bombs or blades—does not change anything; neither does the fact that they may appeal to sublime ideals. The only thing that counts is the intention to wipe out random victims. The systematic resort to the car bomb, to suicide attacks, randomly killing as many passersby as possible, defines a specific style of engagement. When, after Saddam Hussein’s fall, terrorist attacks multiplied in Iraq, they spared no one, especially not Iraqis: schoolchildren in buses or on sidewalks, men and women at the market, the faithful at prayer.

He takes a view of violence, in particular, terroristic violence, through a very long lens and shows not only how war has changed humanity but how humanity changed the rules of engagement. No longer are there expectations on a soldier’s behavior, because now we don’t fight soldiers, we fight blood-thirsty self-appointed warriors in an endless loop of hatred. Like black holes in space, they suck up everything around them in their all-consuming nihilism.

Once Marcia Davenport lamented all the world had lost after the great wars. Beauty, innocence, majesty. Now those of us in America lament the loss of even more and wait for the next explosion.

Oops! Just Saw Your Gore-Gush!

Fasten your seat belts, folks, your wild ride is about to begin!

Just when you thought it was safe to turn on an NBC-owned station, the network is getting ready to bombard citizens with a weeklong manmade global warming propaganda blitzkrieg that’s destined to make Nobel Laureate Al Gore and his Norwegian sycophants smile like a polar bear that’s just bagged a juicy seal.

Rather than regurgitate, ad nauseum, the many awards and accolades the Goracle has amassed the last few weeks, let’s look instead at the seamy underbelly his little PowerPoint project.

At least in Britain, the little kiddies get a warning with their indoctrination. Never mind that scientists all over the planet are disagreeing with his findings. Primarily, those scientists that aren’t on his payroll yet. But Al is a snake-oil salesman, not a scientist. His grades prove that. Shoot, even I did better in science than he did. And science has always been my worse subject.

Speaking of the Nobel, remember Albert Schweitzer? Fausta waxes nostalgic for the days when you actually had to work for one.

Back in the olden days people like Albert Schweitzer, who was a medical doctor, a concert organist and a great humanitarian, won Nobel Peace Prizes. Schweitzer was also a theologian and a philosopher who believed that Western civilization was in decline for having abandoned the affirmation of life as its ethical foundation. He lived by his beliefs and spent most of his life working as a doctor in what is now Gabon, Africa.

Now you get a Nobel Prize for making a movie about yourself.

Siggy cracks open the GoreMassiveBrainPan and takes us on the three-hour tour.

What happens when you use 3 times the amount of energy than other Americans? You win a Nobel Prize!

Al Gore is hypocrite who flies around around in private jets and parks those jets in a remote corner of airports in the hope that no one will notice. He takes a limousine to within a block or two of his destination, gets out and pretends he’s walked.

And then he has the temerity to chastise Americans that they are screwing up the planet. Why on earth would anyone believe that Al Gore is even capable of telling the truth about anything?

Of course, Al Gore didn’t do it alone. He had plenty of help. The Hollywood glitterati, all hypocrites and energy hogs like himself, helped put together the documentary that won him the Nobel Prize.

It’s not as if the Hollywood glitterati would lie, right? Who else is at the fore when it comes to giving up their wasteful ways, massive and obscene energy consumption and excesses?

Now he says he’ll donate his share of the cash prize … Who’s to say he doesn’t have some kind of interest in this outfit? Do a search on purchasing carbon-offsets and you’ll see what I mean!

It’s all just a lowdown, slimeball swindle – Enough! Enough! Off with his head!

I’m off to retreat this weekend. And I will definitely do everything in my power to increase my carbon footprint in them thar hills!

UPDATE: Exactly.

From Father to Son

Yaacov ben Moshe, author of Breath of the Beast, has lost his father. Read his moving tribute.

Once I wrote about The Emotional Bank Account. These men shared more than riches. They shared wisdom, respect and love. Yaacov says

It is a comfort to me and a lesson I’ll try not to forget that even when I couldn’t see it, Moshe Mendel ben David could see the miracle in me. We are all miracles- it’s just that some of us that know it and show it more than others.

Real riches, indeed.

Random Thoughts on Spices and Their Political Uses

As Mary Poppins once said, “A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down…”

But this post isn’t about the election or the candidates. It’s about Ann. You know, Ann Coulter. I’ve gotten a lot of heat about my post the other day that said she needs a long vacation. Well, I stand by my statement. Everyone needs a vacation now and then. Even the voice in the wilderness.

To me, at least, Ann is an interesting animal. Smart, pretty, possessed of the ability to think on her feet and speak off the cuff. Whether you like/believe what she says is your business. She knows her territory and knows the pitfalls that come with it. She knows she will be misquoted. She knows her words will be twisted. She knows she will be reviled in the media – that anyone with a camera and a microphone is gunning for that one soundbite that will make her look like a schmuck, but make them famous. Regardless of the circus that surrounds her, she is a force to be reckoned with. She has no fear in stating her opinion – which (for those out there who have trouble remembering their basic civics lessons) is one of the foundational rights of this country. No wonder the libs hate her to the point of feral foaming at the mouth.

As Siggy said

Ann Coulter can be obtuse, insensitive and an ass at times, but in the end her remarks are no more obtuse, insensitive and an ass-like than the remarks of many of her critics.

When Jane Hamsher published an image of Joe Lieberman in blackface, many on the left found that racism perfectly acceptable- and decried the right’s ‘lack of sense of humor.’

Hamsher’s humor was meant to denigrate. Coulters remarks (whatever you may make of them) were meant to elevate. There is no possible way that Coulter’s remarks could be construed as deliberately malicious or offensive.

Lay off Ann Coulter- it’s a glass house thing.

The Anchoress took it a little further

Coulter obviously did NOT say Jews should be wiped off the planet, that was her host’s interpretation and the left, of course, will run with it. I don’t think she is an anti-semite at all, she is simply trying to express an idea, and doing it very badly, in an environment that is not going to help her do it better.

If you read that transcript to the end, you can see where Coulter tries to clarify her meaning, but she can’t, partly because a sound-bite forum is NO PLACE for that sort of deep and too-easily-misunderstood discussion, and partly because her host is, from his perspective as a Jew, unsurprisingly appalled by what he is hearing, by what he thinks Coulter is saying. This is a discussion best left to someone with a gift for diplomacy, a deft tongue and a loving, civil and collected mien. It is is absolutely not a discussion that should be undertaken by someone who has the deftness of a hammer and the mien of a German Shepherd. Coulter tries to explain, but keeps sinking further because she’s in deep waters, weighted down by time constraints and her own clumsiness; rather than rescuing herself, she’s taking down a whole ship!

[…] Some of my readers keep telling me Coulter is “brilliant,” but for crying out loud, this seems like a pretty dumb, clumsy and inarticulate interview and more importantly, it is a pointless exercise that makes Coulter (and Christians) sound like judgmental automatons who want to walk over you or convert you. This is going to be added to the ever-growing moral equivalence narrative that says “Christians are just like Islamic Fundamentalists!” A narrative that gets served up more often than you may realize by the deliverers of popular culture.

I hate to be cruel but as Hamlet says, I am cruel only to be kind. If Coulter can, she should try to make some sort of statement that apologizes for giving offense – because whether or not she meant to, she surely did manage it – and that does NOT sink her any further… and then maybe she should take a sabbatical, somewhere. Maybe go to Israel and hang out with these gals for a while, or something – try a little silence instead of her habitual, tiresome, trouble-making and incessant noise. end box (snag her links and text tags)

Mary Poppins would be appalled. But my thoughts weren’t so much about sweetness and light as they were about salt and light. This past SS lesson was on Matthew 5:13-16

13 “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men. 14 “You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.

In particular, when we discussed verse 13, my mind strayed to Coulter and stayed there. A pinch of salt works wonders. It enhances flavor and preserves food in some cases. Too much ruins the pot. If it’s soup you’ve got, you might could salvage it by adding more ingredients and broth, but if it was a fine cut of steak, well then, it’s just ruined. (Or “ruint” as my grandmother would have said). Ruin and waste are not fruits of the Spirit. Now Ann has to deal with the wreckage she’s left in her wake. Most Christians (seminary students or not) understand her comments as well as the context where they appeared (after all – we worship a Jewish carpenter!) until they morphed up into something with a life of its own. The ones spewing hate over her perceived “racist insult” are just showing their true colors. Members of the other team, they do what they do best.

Ann should take our advice – a few weeks of silence and rest will do her a world of good. The media won’t miss her. In fact, the minute her face is missing from the screen, they will find a new prey.

Collegiate Tourette’s…OR…Where are all the pirates?

****Liquid Alert****

Yep, folks, it is hard to believe, but college students actually wrote these essays. And turned them in. For a grade.

Mamacita must have the patience of a saint and the pokerface of Ol’ Smokey, because I just couldn’t read those without laughing my head off!!

No Princess Bride sequel…?!?!?…egads!

Then I Woke Up in This Alternate Universe…

After a week of too much work, well-blended with the sinus infection the size of Rhode Island, I woke up in this Alternate Universe.

The Goracle wins the Nobel A-Peacccce-Ment prize. What a load of hooey.

Ann Coulter opened her mouth again. I think she needs a long vacation.

My dearly beloved, special occasion CoCo Red may be on the endangered lipstick list soon.

South Florida (who?) comes out of nowhere and is now ranked #2. College football never ceases to entertain in such a way that the thugs of professional sports do NOT.

Sandy “Pants” Berger is back in business.

I’ll take another decongestant and go back to bed. Maybe when I get up tomorrow, it will have been just a long and very bad dream. And maybe Bobby will step out the shower….

The People of the Dawg’s Biennial Migration to Parts North

Yea, in the many years past, there lived a hermit in a cave. Lo, the Mighty OOGA, who came forth and prognosticated Bulldawg victories for many years. Then his voice fell silent (maybe he graduated).

Forsooth and fear not! The Good Dawgs at The Anti-Orange Page (aka Dawgtoons) have recovered and saved for the sake of Bulldawg posterity the utterings and prophecies of the Great and Mighty OOGA.

In years past the mighty prophet had this to say about the Hill People of the North Suburb of Atlanta; yea, verily, the Tennessee Volunteers.

Behold the carcasses of the Elephant Men. Do they not rot in yonder Tuskcameloosa, on the field of Dawgly Conquest, at the hindward, liquidly leg-marked path of they whom are manly, they whom bring merciless chaos in the stadiums of their foes, they whom are the Rampaging Road Warriors, yea, the PEOPLE OF THE DAWG? And the grimacing grog-guzzling pie-hole of Dithering Dye the Debunked, hath not that oozing orifice been shut forth? And the nattering naysayers of the reeking hordes of the Scribe Nation, have they not been reduced to gigglesome geeklords? The People of the Dawgs, the Manly Maulmeisters, came, they saw, they exacted forth the whoopfest of the wailing whooparama.

But lo, what heareth the ears of the prophet from the rocky places where dwell the Hickolian Hill People, the minions of the wallowsome whalish warlords Lulu and Junior? The prophet heareth the wheezy, whinesome, whimpers of they whom plead for mercy, unworthy of the Dawgs of War! Sir Casey of Malibu, he of the hair as spiked as Ooga’s club, yet fashioned of mousse rather than steel–does he not moan about his sissified shoulder? And King Kelley the Konceited, does he not groan about his nebulous knee? And the girlish minions of the battle-scarred bench, do they not cower in their womanly whirlpools just in time to AVOID THE WRATH OF THE RAMPAGING DAWGS? Come forth, Prissy and Panicking Poltroons! Art thou Vols MANLY? Come forth if thou have Volleyballs! Cower not beneath thy blubbersome coach’s pumpkinish parka!

Behold, it mattereth not who dresseth out among thy Crop of Craven Creamsicles. Bringeth forth Peyton the Heismanless, or Jamal the Jerkly. Bringeth forth thy decade of dundering defenders. Buyeth some new warriors and taketh forth thy best shot. The People of the Dawg have smote thee TWICE, with fewer warriors from the zone of blue-chipperliness. The People of the Dawg have smote thee with Rage of the Rising Richtian Rampagers. The People of the Dawg have smote thee with the Hellish Havoc of the Hobnailed Boot. And the People of the Dawg just getteth warmed up.

Come taste the Pounding of Pollack the Pulverizer. Come see thy orificial orange ooze beneath the blistering blades of the Greene Machine. Come feel the cleats of Musa the Merciless, of Sullivan the Sackmeister, of Itty Bitty Billy Bennett the Bootmaster, of Damien the Demon and Terrence the Terrible. Surely the reeking orange entrails of the vanquished shall seep from sanctuary of Sacred Sanford, and clog the outgoing highways upon which thy mooing minions shall flee in chaos. And Fulmer the Foul shall blame forth the referees, and blame forth the players, and blame forth the circus tent canvas manufacturers which provideth his pumpkinish parka. And the People of the Dawg will stand forth upon the high and rocky places, howling at the moon, crying forth, “Is there no more worthy challenger, no reeking horde manly enough to stand proudly before the Dawgly Decimators?”

And the People of the Dawg shall rule the regions of the Southeastern Kingdoms forever and ever.


The relic is an archeologist’s dream – Player’s names and former coach’s names are still intact!

Hobnail boots at the ready, watch out Knoxville, here come the Dawgs!


Hugo’s Little Friend in Macon

Well, you knew this would happen (h/t Peach Pundit). Hugo’s little friend down in Macon, GA is making news again. To refresh your memory, remember this from the summer?

Some Macon residents have called for demonstrations and boycotts after the mayor of the middle Georgia city formally reached out to Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez with a declaration of solidarity.

Mayor Jack Ellis said the declaration — sent about two weeks ago by courier — was a message that local leaders can stand together despite disagreements at the highest reaches of government.

Now, he’s thinking of running for a HIGHER office.

Macon Mayor Jack Ellis today said he is forming a committee to explore whether to seek the 8th congressional district seat currently held by U.S. Rep. Jim Marshall.

Ellis made his remarks this morning after signing a proclamation about breast cancer awareness. He said he will embark on a listening tour through the district on weekends and then more heavily once he leaves office in December. The district stretches from south Georgia’s Colquitt County through Middle Georgia to the southern edge of metro Atlanta.

“I’m running because I think we need a real Democrat to represent this district in office,” Ellis said, according to video of his announcement.

Marshall, a Democrat, preceded Ellis as mayor of Macon.

Wow. Get that – the congressman whose seat he’s going after is the one and same former mayor whose office he now occupies. And a real Democrat? What’s that? Is there such a thing anymore?

This man bears watching, especially if he is suddenly flush with campaign cash. We all know where that will come from.

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