Thursday - March 11, 2010

Vilmar’s version of Aesop’s Antz and Grasshoppers

I thought of Vilmar immediately upon recovering from Mountain Dew shooting from my nose:

Once upon a time, there was a happy-go-lucky grasshopper who lived only to have fun. All through the long summer days, he would sing and dance, and laugh at the industrious ants who were busily preparing for winter. But then cruel winter came, and the grasshopper was starving. In desperation, he approached the ants’ nest and begged for food. “You should have danced less and worked more,” the ants scolded him, but then, being basically kind-hearted creatures, they decided to give him a few of their hard-won crumbs.

The next summer was exactly like the one before: Once more, the ants worked without pause, while the grasshopper sang and danced. When winter came, he appealed to the ants again, only this time, he brought his 10,000 children along with him. “It’s thanks to your kindness,” he said, “that I made it through the winter, and was able to father these little ones. Surely, you won’t let us all starve to death.”

The ants convened a meeting of their Council to decide what to do. On the one hand, they felt a certain responsibility for the grasshopper and his huge brood; on the other hand, feeding 10,000 growing grasshoppers could make a serious dent in their winter provisions.

Finally, one Council member had a brilliant idea. “Let’s just take some food from the hardest-working ants. They’ve got more than enough, and won’t mind sharing their good fortune with the needy grasshoppers.”

The Council-of-Ants thought this was a splendid plan, and quickly acted on it. As a result, the grasshoppers survived the winter, the ants congratulated themselves on their compassion, and hardly anyone noticed that the hardest-working ants, whose food had been seized, left the nest in disgust.

Summer came around once again, and once again the grasshoppers danced and sang, while the ants toiled and saved. But without the hardest-working ants to do the heavy-lifting, the ants did not get very much accomplished, and barely accumulated enough food to get themselves through the winter.

And then, one cold and snowy day, the ants heard an ominous rumble approaching ever-closer. It was the sound of a million grasshoppers, all converging on their tiny ant-hill. “Since time immemorial,” Grandfather Grasshopper solemnly declared, “the ant people have shared their winter provisions with the grasshopper people. We demand that you do so now, immediately, or we’ll destroy your nest, and take by force what is rightfully ours.”

This is how the Dilemma of the Welfare State, aka the Entitlement Crisis, came into the world.

Oh, read the source here.

Posted by Christopher     on 03/11/2010 at 10:45 PM   
Filed Under: • Commies • Democrats • Economics •  
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‘The Wreck of the… uh… Barack Hussein?’

Lisa Farizio owes Gordon Lightfoot an apology.

The legend lives on from old Honest Abe on down
Of the group that they call “Grand Old Party.”
The media it’s said gave her up for half dead
Though in truth she is still hale and hearty.
But in two-thousand eight she fell under the great weight
Of a candidate too weak to steer her.
That good ship and true failed in states that were blue
When the gales of November came callin’.

Posted by Christopher     on 03/11/2010 at 10:34 PM   
Filed Under: • Fun-Stuff • Humor • Satire •  
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Secret to a happy marriage revealed!

The secret to a happy marriage has now been placed on a scientific basis… much like the theory of global warming:

Swiss researchers report the discovery of a magic formula for successful marriages. If true, this could mean that marriages of the future will be contracted based on scientific principles, instead of such common, but notoriously unreliable factors as failed prophylactics and tequila.

I’ve always found tequila to be a wonderful factor…

The study begins by echoing what many of us have known all along: that a successful marriage has little to do with passion, sexual prowess, your partner’s good looks, or the make and model of his car. It has to do with smarts.

According to these well meaning, but obviously over-funded scientists, the key to a happy marriage—if you are a man—is to find a woman who is 27 percent smarter than you are. If you are a woman, you need to find a man 27 percent dumber.

It’s that simple.

No, it’s not that simple, as the author notes;

Well, it is, and it isn’t. For instance, it is not hard for me to find a woman who is 27 percent smarter than me. The hard part is getting her to go out on a second date.

Go read the article. And don’t be surprised if the Democrats liberals want to regulate marriages according to IQ tests.

Posted by Christopher     on 03/11/2010 at 10:05 PM   
Filed Under: • Amazing Science and Discoveries • Colleges-Professors • Democrats • Love-Marriage •  
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It’s Peiper’s Fault

Another entry in the continuing Letters from Littleton series

First, I’ve been working, doing the handyman thing again. And I have decided to identify my profession as gigolo when asked. It’s true! My customers are women of a certain age, either divorced or widowed young, or married ones whose husbands can’t give them what they really want. So I go to them, referred by one satisfied client to another, and I let them know that I have certain skills and abilities that most men don’t have, and quite a lot of experience. That I pay attention to detail, don’t rush my job, and work until they are completely thrilled. And in exchange for money, I’ll do whatever they want. I should incorporate, and call the business Sometimes You Just Need A Man.

Second, Peiper sent me another one of his envelopes full of various clippings from the British newspapers. They’re always fun to read. This time, the articles were on the latest political scandals - their MPs have misplaced over ONE MILLION POUNDS in improper reimbursements!! (which is less than what Charlie Rangel probably owes in taxes), how ClimateGate egoist-in-chief Raj Pachauri owns lots of different hats, considers himself to be a test quality cricket bowler, gets himself driven to work one whole mile in a chauffeured Toyota Corolla (!!!) instead of driving the green car his institute gave him, two columns on utterly MAD Harriet Hartmann ("This woman is a plague on England!” engraves an enraged Peiper at the top of the page) is going to ruin the nation with her Equality Bill, a real estate article showing me I can now buy d’Artagnan’s actual house for a mere £3.24 million (I want it. Utterly. Even if I have to buy my own sword to live there. Drool, swoon, and gibber with excitement. It even has a mother-in-law turret on the back side of the castle, with it’s own studded iron door!) And this article on the Cutty Sark.

The what? The which? Your typical American, if she happens to be a drinker, will recognize the name as a brand of very light bodied blended whiskey. Yellow label on a green bottle I think.

I am not your typical American. I knew that the Cutty Sark was a clipper ship. And I know what clipper ships were, and I’m pretty sure I saw the rotting timbers of two or three of them somewhere on the coast of Maine when I was a little kid. Or my great gandmother did and I saw the pictures. Hey, I was small at the time! They were sailing ships from a long time ago, queens of the seven seas from the last dying breaths of the Age of Sail. Back in the long gone times when there was no such thing as stay-fresh packaging, and tea came in a wooden box, clipper ships would race home to England with the fresh crop of tea leaves from China, all the way around the southern tip of Africa, flying past pirates and sailing through storms at the neck snapping speed of 15 knots. 17 mph. Fresher tea sold for more money, and these ships made their owners a fortune.

That era ended when a) steam ships became reliable, and b) the Suez Canal opened, shortening the journey by at least a month. Actually, the short era of the clipper ship never really should have happened. 20 years before they existed you could take a propeller driven steamboat from London to New York. Or to Rio. But steam ships were expensive, and expensive to operate. Sail was cheap. So were the lives of the sailors. Here’s an account of one voyage of the Cutty Sark. I’d rather do time in prison. Or serve under Holly Graf, who seems a whole lot nicer than the first mate. He was so nasty the whole crew ran off. And his replacement was even worse!

Ok, so I knew it was a ship once upon a time. A great and famous one. I did not know that it still existed, and that it was some kind of maritime exhibit in England. In Greenwich. Right across the street - Trafalgar Road naturally - from the meridian building at the Maritime Museum and Sir Harrison’s clocks, eh Peiper? Pretty sly, guy. So it was exciting for me just to see the pictures in the paper of this long legged wooden beauty. And read of how it was undergoing restoration while in drydock. And how it was rusting apart. And that the plan was to raise the ship up 11 feet so that everyone could see the amazing round bottomed hull, which is what gave her her speed. And to do that, the plan was to hang the ship from steel girders driven through the sides. Abhorrence! Sacrilege! The chief curator had already quit over this plan, and I could understand that perfectly. It would be like going to a museum to see the famous race horse Man o’ War, stuffed and displayed, but to better show you the underside of his hooves - that’s the part that made him run fast! - we mounted him to the wall by driving a spear through his heart and another through his eyes. Gross!! And this, this in England, with it’s long and grand maritime history. How dare they! And I knew then that I had to post on it, and that meant a lot of research. For starters, the name. Why name a boat after a bottle of whiskey?

Wrongo, Drew. It was the other way around. And the ship was named after the clothing worn by the character Nannie in the Robert Burns poem quoted above. I think it’s a bit of a pun in Scottish, as a cutty sark is a wee slip worn by a wee slip of a girl who grew up to be a naughty witch. Who went dancing in the moonlight wearing only that. Which just goes to show you that sailors never change, and occupy their thoughts with booze and nearly naked women. If they built that ship today it would be named The hot babe in a thong bikini or the X-tra Small Nightie or the SS Underboob or similar. They actually named the ship after a sexy bit of women’s underwear. Not after the oddball little island in the English Channel named Sark, the one that just got around to ending the Middle Ages in 2008. (which is what you get when you let lefty newspapers own entire countries!) See, Nannie the witch almost caught drunk Tam one night, and managed to grab the tail of horse as he rode away in fright.

And I’d be wrong about the fortune part, even though the ship’s figurehead turned out to be quite apt. Cutty Sark never made riches for her owner, John “white hat” Willis. And while she was built for speed, she never beat her rival the Thermopylae. Just caught her tail, finishing the Shanghai to London run 5 days slower. And they both lost to steam and the canal, which opened the year the ship was built.

Her intended lifespan was 30 years when she was commissioned in 1868 by John ‘White Hat’ Willis, a London ship-owner who wore a white topper as he went about his business.

His purpose in ordering the new vessel from Glasgow firm Scott & Linton was not solely commercial.

An old hand in the China tea trade, he owned many clippers, but none as fast as Thermopylae, owned by the rival White Star Line, which had been launched earlier that year and looked set to outpace everything else.

In those days, the annual race of the tea clippers to be the first back to England with the new season’s crop was a national preoccupation. Large sums changed hands in bets.

Her maiden voyage, however, was not triumphant. She had teething troubles on her way out to Shanghai, and her first passage back to England with a hold full of tea took 110 days, compared with Thermopylae’s 105.

That was still pretty swift. The trouble was that however determinedly these two ships raced against each other during the coming years, their real rivalry was with steam.

The Suez Canal opened the very year Cutty Sark was launched. Only powered vessels could use it, and it meant they could do the voyage home in 60 days.

For a time, Willis and the other clipper-owners were defiant, claiming that steamer-carried tea was tainted by coal-dust. But as the price dropped, few tea-drinkers noticed the difference. By 1877, when Cutty Sark carried her last cargo of tea, it had become plain even to Willis that the days of the tea clipper were over.

Like I said, an era that should never have happened. And if Cutty Sark hadn’t split a bunch of sails and lost her rudder in a storm on that trip, she probably would have won.

But why was this old wooden ship rusting apart anyway? Wood doesn’t rust. Well, Cutty Sark is a “composite ship”. Which means it’s only wood on the outside. Teak and elm, actually. The ribs of the ship are iron. Not steel, iron. Not I-beams either. They hadn’t been invented yet. I’d heard of composition ships before, read about them in some little book on ships my aunt gave me when I was young. And in that book was a picture like this one:

which shows half of a rib of a composite ship. Wood on the outside, iron frame members on the inside. But ships have keels and keelsons and bilge boxes and a million other salt encrusted parts. And Wiki is telling me how composite ships were ever so much stronger than plain wood ones. Heck, they practically had the problem of hogging and sagging licked!

Huh? Hogging and sagging? What on earth is that? Well, ships are fairly large. Otherwise they’d be called boats. But the ocean is much bigger. Otherwise ships would be called bridges. And some ships are about the same size as the length of the waves they sail on. So when the top of the wave goes under the ship, it lifts up the front bit. (The front pointy bit is called the bow. Pronounced the same way as that bit of obsequious toe touching that Obama loves to do when he meets important people) And as the top of the wave goes under the middle of the ship, it lifts that part up too. Leaving the front and back (bow and stern) floating on lower parts of the water. So the ship bends. This is called hogging, after the term hogback, which refers to the top of pigs, which are often curved with a high point in the middle. Unlike horses and similar critters, where the high point on the back is at the shoulder. And when the low point of the wave is at the middle of the ship, the bow and stern are floating on higher bits of water, so the ships bends up at both ends. Or sags in the middle. Same same. That’s called sagging.

I’m a natural engineer. I can see how this kind of bending can stress a ship until it breaks. I realize that it really isn’t an issue on small boats. Or on medium ships made entirely of wood, since wood is flexible. Or on steel ships, because they’re far far stronger than wood ones. But I could not see how composite ships had any strength at all, if all they were made from was wood planks over toroidal girders. And that led me on a long chase, until I found a reprint online of a 120 year old book about ship design, Sir William Henry White’s A Manual of Naval Architecture. And found out that those composite ships had plenty of diagonal strap bracing between the ribs, and often had iron keels and keelsons as well. [ The keel is the bottom spine of a ship. All the ribs and hull parts attach to it. Sometimes the bottom of the keel stick through the bottom of the ship and helps it travel straight through the water, like an extra bit of rudder. Keelsons are smaller, lateral parallels to the keel. They are usually built inside the bottom of the ship and help keep the bottom stiff. ] Reading through that was quite interesting, and showed me what was missing in that picture. So I knew how the Cutty Sark was built, before I even saw a picture.

And I was wrong again. The Cutty Sark is a composite ship. But it’s made up of a whole lot more iron than just the inside bracings of the hull. The keel is iron. So are the masts, at least the lower parts. And some of the yardarms. And the bowsprit. And the stern cap. And many other parts. I think that the only reason they put wood planks on the hull was so that they could use Mentz metal sheathing. Another WTH moment. Mentz metal? Yeah, a “patented” alloy we call brass. 60% copper, 40% zinc. Brass doesn’t rust, and it doesn’t get shipworm, and it doesn’t support Mermaid’s Hair and other tropical plants which tend to stick to wood ships sailing in tropical seas. And that slows a ship down considerably. Ok, so you get some galvanic reaction between the brass plates and the iron ribs. But a lot less if you put wood walls between them, and then fasten the brass plates on with bronze screws.

Satisfied at last on how the ship was put together, and knowing a bit of her history, I felt I could better understand this article on the snags in the restoration process. This is the ultimate kind of handyman work, and has to be done carefully. After all, how long has it been since the last restoration of this 140 year old ship? Well, I won’t say I was wrong again, but I’m not really clear on that question. Seems like the ship has been under restoration for nearly 60 years. This ship, designed to last 30 years, worked from 1869 until 1922, then served as a training ship until 1954, then became a museum piece. During restoration work in 2007 some oik left the vacuum cleaner on when he left for the weekend, and it caught fire. And a large part of the ship was burned.

Fortunately, most of the ship had been taken apart by then, and the greater amount of original parts were not on board. But plenty was damaged nonetheless.

So the work continues, but it’s taking longer, and costing more, than anticipated. Like quality work always does, because it’s impossible to accurately estimate things when you are unwilling to hide problems beneath a thick coat of fresh paint.

Here is the link to the official restoration website. There are several galleries of superb photographs here, well worth seeing. The diagonal bracing I researched can be seen in the pictures from October 2007.

And as for Andrew Gilligan and his article on the plan to spear the old girl and hang her high? I’m still not sure. Searching around the official page I can find letters that say such a support is needed, because the ship is starting to sag around her keel. Probably because it was designed to live in the water, not in perpetual drydock! Or perhaps (quick, somebody call Rosie O’Donnell!!) the fire could have melted or softened the iron ribs (only the 2nd time in history that such a thing has happened, eh Rosie??? Stupid cow.)

Another article by Gilligan, dated yesterday, says the plan is for the ship to be floated on a giant bubble of glass. So maybe I misread the “steel beams, punched through the ship, would hold it in place” part. Wait, no I didn’t. Gilligan is against the plan. And I am too. Unless there is absolutely no other way and even refloating the ship in a giant aquarium full of pure filtered water won’t work. The big glass bubble and I-beam idea “would give the ship a modern, iconic look” according to Gilligan. Who the hell wants that, when we’re talking about a living piece of mi 19th century history. It would be as bad as that damned pyramid at the Louvre. Please England, let the French stand alone with iterations of poor taste like that.

But maybe Andrew is closely related to that Gilligan more famous in America. I tried to go through every page of the official site, and I did not see a word about any big glass bubble, but it is a pretty large web place. They mention that the ship must be supported by a collar, whatever that means. Is there a lack of transparency in their news about that transparency? Who knows. And Gordon Brown wants it done in time for the 2012 Olympics, and some of the restoration funding may truly be contingent on this horrid method of support.

Wrong for the N^th time on this one Drew. Gilligan is no Gilligan. The funding is there, and it is hooked into the glass bottomed dock concept:

Cutty Sark’s consultants suggested suspending the ship above the dry berth to even out the strains on the hull. The approved scheme not only allows the public to admire the ship’s lines for the first time, and appreciate the reasons for her success in carrying cargo under sail, it also frees up the dock below to be used for education, exhibition and entertainment purposes.

The ship’s fame and performance comes ultimately from her shape.  The importance of being able to see Cutty Sark’s under water shape was recognized by Frank Carr during the restoration of 1953.  He originally proposed that the ship should be drawn up on wooden ways on the hard at Greenwich, rather than her exquisite hull being concealed in a dank dock.  He saw that this would enable visitors to wander around her to see her lines from every angle, much as they would have been able to do when she was being built in Dumbarton at Messrs. Scott & Linton’s yard in 1869.

Historic ship conservators have long pondered the best way of conserving a ship out of the water.  It has been recognized that a large vessel tends to “sit down” on her keel over time.  The shores that supported Cutty Sark in her 1953 dock had cut into her hull planking and the keel was stressed. 

Rats. I was hoping that this Gilligan was true to this roots, and I could call a “Gilligan, drop those coconuts!” line. After all, the guy does not know front from back. Or bow from stern, actually:

DUDE. It’s the other end, m’kay? It ain’t the “front”.

And it looks like there will be a History Channel special on the ship next week. Tune in and watch, Tuesday the 16th at 8pm!

On the 140th anniversary of the Cutty Sark’s maiden voyage, and for the first time on television, Ben Fogle presents the full story of this world-famous ship and the dramatic bid to save her.Many believed the infamous fire of May 2007 spelled doom for the Cutty Sark, but using exclusive access, this programme explains the true context and consequence of that disaster.

Her story begins in 1869, launched from a Dumbarton slipway and bound for the lucrative Chinese tea trade. It was the age of the famous ‘tea races’, in which the clippers (merchant ships built almost purely for speed) competed to be first back to London with the new tea crop. The clippers were the fastest commercial sailing ships ever built, and the Cutty Sark was the fastest and most famous of them all. Her speed and grace made her a legend in her own time. 

In her long life she has faced the scrapyard many times. But thanks to good fortune and the hard work of her admirers, today she is the last tea clipper to survive. For fifty years she has stood in dry dock in Greenwich, where she has become a top tourist attraction and famous London landmark. She is, not least, a unique link to Britain’s proud maritime past.

So that’s where I’ve been. It’s all Peiper’s fault, actually.

And I still say it’s wrong - creepy even, in a perv kind of way - to lift up a ship named after a witchy hot babe in a really short dress in a way that lets everyone look up her skirts and see her nicely rounded bottom. Show a little respect.

Posted by Drew458     on 03/11/2010 at 02:18 PM   
Filed Under: • planes, trains, tanks, ships, big machinery, and automobiles •  
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A LIFE REMEMBERED AND A GOOD FRIEND STILL MISSED AFTER ALL THIS TIME. BARRY SADLER.

I believe there was a time when a guy could describe his feelings for a good friend with the use of the word “love.” This would be someone he was close to (but not too much mind you).  Happily we could say so without fear of being thought of as,, you know. To use the common expression of my bygone day, queer.  Use the ‘L’ word these days and you’re sure to draw odd looks.

As one who has always been in awe of real talent, as I understand that term, there were many people I admired greatly.  I viewed some artists (mostly musicians)
in a god like way. I was depressed beyond measure for example when Gene Krupa died.  The same with Benny Goodman and I was totally devastated when Jack Benny passed away.

When those I knew personally and had almost daily contact with passed from the scene, the pain was on a par with the passing of a parent.

Such were my feelings for the late Al ‘Jazzbeaux’ Collins, a man of immense talent who guided my initial radio career. My self appointed mentor and radio guru.  The best damn Jazz DJ that ever was, and one of the very best radio personalities ever to sit behind a microphone spinning disks on air in major markets from NY to L.A.

I still mourn his passing and that of Royce Kendall, (one half of the duo, The Kendalls) one of the nicest and kindest gentlemen I’ve known.  As great as they all were, I’ve discovered that what I might mourn as much as their physical passing, is the loss to the world and me personally, of their unique talent.  So maybe it’s talent I worship more then the person, which is not saying I didn’t have great feelings for all. 

Well, the person I want to write about here was something of a standout. Besides Al Collins, he was the only other male I had ever bonded with.  He was, Barry Sadler.

Better known as Green Beret, Sgt.Barry Sadler. Songwriter (The Ballad of the Green Beret) and singer. And teller of great jokes. He was a good friend and a great talent.

Those who knew him either feared him, thought ill of him, or loved him.  Obviously I fall into that last category.

Barry Sadler was a man of many talents.  Historian, weapons expert, story teller with a gift for mimicracy and author of books that are still selling today as I write this.

Nobody could tell jokes like him, often in dialect.  He was a wonderful character and I know many were frightened of him because he shot and killed Lee Emerson, another writer.  He was cleared as it appeared to be self-defense. Even if it hadn’t been self-defense, it would have made no difference to me. Barry said it was self defense and that was enough for me.  I looked up to him, he was one of the very few heroes I ever had. 

We spent time at the bar in the Hall of Fame hotel on Music Row Nashville. I didn’t drink. Barry did, often times too much. But he was so damn funny. Not his books however. There was nothing funny about those. They were violent mostly but well plotted.

One of the books I favored a lot was, “Nashville With a Bullet” (the term bullet in the music industry, indicates a song is hot and getting airtime and one to watch. They are usually hyped but not always. The term was invented by promoter Charlie Lamb. A song placement on the Billboard charts and the expression “in Billboard (or Cashbox) With a Bullet” came into use.) Coming from radio as I had, and at the time I knew Barry I was working in Nashville, everything in that book was quite familiar. 

His books are still selling but most in demand is the CASCA series. They are selling at premium prices on Amazon among collectors.  He even has a fan club here in Britain, where his books sell as well.
Should you want proof of that, check out Barry Sadler, CASCA books at Amazon USA or UK and see what they’re selling for.  And these are not large books btw. They are thin paperbacks bringing prices equal to new hardback books. Barry would laugh to see the prices people are paying. 

When I told a friend who was a decorated ex Marine that I personally knew Barry Sadler, he asked me to introduce him as Barry was a hero to him as well. So I did. When my friend proudly told Barry that he was once in the Marines, Barry looked him straight in the eye and with a serious expression said, “I tried to enlist in the Marines before I got in the Army. But they rejected me.” They rejected YOU? My friend asked in great surprise. “WHY?” And with a straight face Barry said to him, “Because I can read.” Oh god, I was on the floor. I felt bad for my friend, but that was Barry Sadler. The eternal joker.

Sadly, there was another Barry Sadler as well. The warrior who couldn’t sheathe his sword. If there was fighting somewhere, Barry had to go. Oddly, he got involved in helping a children’s hospital and bringing in supplies to them and raising money for them. A lot of it his own. This was in Guatemala, where things finally caught up with him.

We’re not sure how. Some say it was a robbery in Guatemala, others point the finger at some shadowy hit for hire and others say it was a grudge carried out by some enemy. I guess we’ll never really know for certain how anyone ever got the drop on Barry Sadler. Someone else even suggested that a drunk Barry might have shot himself accidentally.  Most of us don’t believe he could have been sober for it to happen the way it did. I still miss Barry. It’s not true that anyone is replaceable. That’s the disadvantage of having heroes. They let you down one-way or another, by being mortal and dying when all the time you thought they were gods.

Before he left for that last trip, I recall our conversation and all but begged him not to go. I told him I thought he was pushing his luck, that every time he went over he increased the chance of never coming back. And from a purely selfish view I told him, I couldn’t replace a friend like him. Ever!

His reply was one I’ll always remember. He said, “Hey Jay, how would it look if one day you picked up a paper and read that Sgt. Barry Sadler died because he got run over by a bus? Wouldn’t you feel better if you knew I went out in a firefight?” I said, “Hell No Barry. I don’t want you to die period. You croak and I lose a friend I can’t replace.” He laughed, we parted and I never saw him alive again.

I played Taps on my silver Bach trumpet when he died , and never played it again.  I haven’t been able to re-read any of his books either.

-30-

Posted by peiper     on 03/11/2010 at 11:18 AM   
Filed Under: • Blog Stuff • Personal • USA •  
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   Wednesday - March 10, 2010

WTF is wrong with these crap faced stupid bastards.  How far does this thing have to be carried?

Ever get up very late, or early in the morning because you suddenly thought of something you forgot to do before going to bed?  Woke up (it’s half past midnight here) and had to boot because I forgot something important before shutting down. Oh well, I figured I may as well check some things that will be in the news when I ran across this mind boggling pile of stupidity. There are not enough moonbats to award this school.

Tell ya what tho.  If it were left to me I take the person or persons responsible for this outrage, and make em think they were going to be shot. I’d also take IDs and tell em their families were on the list to be next.  Lets see how well the ass-wipes respond. Fuckin jerks!
It’s this very sort of thing that make non Jewish families who never before had ill will or denied the holocaust, into very non sympathetic people. I know damn well I’d be.

Here, see for yourself and see what you think.  If one of the kids were yours you would ..... ? Just fill in the blank.

The idiot who authorized this is, Deputy head teacher Elizabeth McGlynn.  I wish her the worst.  Knowing myself pretty well, and knowing my temper and reactions to stupidity like this, I can pretty well say that Ms McGlynn might already be dead by now if I had a kid in that class.  I’d worry about consequences later if I worried at all.  The point being, an example should be made of her.  One that would be so horrific that no pol.correct teacher would ever even think of pulling a stunt like this again.  A simple bullet in the head would not be enough. By example I mean things I can’t even post here. She’d damn well deserve it!

Primary schoolchildren in tears after they are told they will be removed from families as part of Holocaust ‘game’

By Daily Mail Reporter
Last updated at 7:11 PM on 10th March 2010

A group of primary schoolchildren were left traumatised after their teacher told them they were to be taken away from their families during a bizarre Holocaust classroom ‘game’.

Pupils became hysterical after a number of them were separated and told they were being sent away or might end up in an orphanage.

The terrifying ordeal was meant to give the students at the Lanarkshire school an insight into the horrors faced by Jewish children during the Second World War, when they were plucked from home and sent to Nazi death camps.

But the ill-conceived exercise, which was sprung without warning on the children at St Hilary’s Primary School in East Kilbride last Thursday morning, went badly wrong with many pupils, aged just 11, reduced to tears.

Deputy head teacher Elizabeth McGlynn was responsible for segregating the pupils and telling them they were to be sent away.

One angry parent, who has lodged an official complaint about the project, told how the ‘barbaric’ role play left children crying their eyes out in class.

In a letter sent to council bosses, the unnamed mother said: ‘Mrs McGlynn told the children they would probably have to be sent away from their families and that their parents had been informed about this and knew all about it.

‘When one child asked if that meant they might have to go to an orphanage, they were told that might be a possibility.

‘At that point many of the children became very distressed.

‘One boy kicked his chair over, one was angry and demanded to speak to someone in charge but most were crying on a scale ranging from mildly to severely.

‘Their ordeal lasted between 12 and 15 minutes before the children were informed that it was all an act but that the role play would continue until lunchtime.’

One girl said her classmates began crying when Mrs McGlynn told them she had a letter from the Scottish Executive saying nine children had to be separated from their classmates.

She told the shocked youngsters those who were born in January, February and March had lower IQs than other children, ‘due to lack of sunlight in their mother’s womb’, and that they had to put yellow hats on and be sent to the library.

The mother added: ‘When I asked why on earth they thought it was appropriate to deliver a role play situation to the children in this way, Mrs Stewart informed me that they didn’t inform the children beforehand.

‘This was because they wanted the children to experience an “accurate emotional response” to this scenario in order for it to be reflected in their story writing.

‘Mrs Stewart then invited me to come up to the school and see the excellent work that had been produced as a result of the exercise.

‘I declined and my position and opinion on the method used to extract emotive story writing from the children was cruel, barbaric, traumatic and totally, totally unethical.

‘My daughter and indeed no child needs to feel the terror, fear, panic, segregation and horror that a child of the Holocaust experienced during one of the worst atrocities in history to be able to empathise with them in order to produce good story writing.’

A South Lanarkshire council spokeswoman, who confirmed that a role play activity took place, said: ‘The council can confirm that a parent handed in a letter to Education Resources on Monday, March 8, 2010, and this will be responded to shortly.’

SOURCE

Posted by peiper     on 03/10/2010 at 07:23 PM   
Filed Under: • CULTURE IN DECLINE • Outrageous • Stoopid-People • UK •  
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Some very exciting history and a new presentation video. You won’t be sorry if you like history

It’s 1927 people, and Lucky Lindy, America’s Lone Eagle is about to make history.

This is put together with film both still and movie with some sound added. Like you, I generally know the story and after all, I also saw the movie with Jimmy Stewart. Seriously though, I did read the subject.  Even so, this presentation is exceptional by any standard.

Here is the link.  Below you see a small window where there are four parts listed. You can see em here in my screen shot. They are NOT long either.  In fact, you can start by simply clicking part one and go from there. If problems (and should be none) just click CONTACT on the screen.

A Very HUGE H/T to our friend Vilmar.

Enjoy.

Posted by peiper     on 03/10/2010 at 02:06 PM   
Filed Under: • Art-Photography • History • OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENT • USA •  
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World Record by building the largest house of free-standing playing cards.  Take a look

Wow .. Can you imagine how much patience this must take?  Almost as much as as explaining tech thingy stuff to me.  Right Drew?

I wonder if being an architect gives him an advantage understanding laws of stress or whatever. Of course it must. Whatever, it’s still nice to see this stuff.

Don’t breathe on it: Architect spends 44 days creating world’s biggest house of cards

By Mail Foreign Service
Last updated at 3:50 PM on 10th March 2010

An American architect has broken his own Guinness World Record by building the largest house of free-standing playing cards.

Bryan Berg used 218,792 cards to create a replica of the Venetian Macau, which is on display in its namesake luxury hotel and casino.

Berg took 44 days and 4,051 decks of cards to complete his model inside the Venetian, which sits at the heart of Macau’s Cotai Strip, the China-ruled city’s version of Las Vegas’ neon alley.

Since Macau’s casino sector liberalised in 2002, a spate of Las Vegas style gaming giants have transformed the once sleepy former Portuguese colony into the world’s biggest gaming hub.

Weighing 44 stone and measuring 33 feet by just under 10 feet, the model which consisted of cards stacked without glue or tape, nearly collapsed several times. 

(To us yanks, that’d be 616 pounds. wow)

MORE HERE AND MORE PHOTOS

Posted by peiper     on 03/10/2010 at 01:10 PM   
Filed Under: • Art-Photography • Awards • OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENT • Talented Ppl. • USA •  
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blonde American housewife accused in Islamic plot to kill Swedish cartoonist

Well she’s ugly enough prolly only a muzzie will gave her. So became one of ‘them.’

Can’t figure how an American can see the attraction or value in this.  Has to be about sex.

THE SLAG’S PHOTO IS HERE.

What a huge difference between this skank and the lady I posted about this morning, from Iran. 

Meet ‘Jihad Jane’: The blonde American housewife accused in Islamic plot to kill Swedish cartoonist

By Paul Thompson

An American housewife who called herself ‘Jihad Jane’ has been named as part of a plot to kill a Swedish cartoonist who made fun of the Prophet Mohammed.

Colleen LaRose agreed to murder the artist, marry a terrorism suspect so he could move to Europe and martyr herself if necessary, according to court papers.

Al Qaeda put a £67,000 bounty on the head of cartoonist Lars Vilks after a newspaper published his cartoon of the Prophet Mohammed with the body of a dog in 2007.

LaRose, 46, of Pennsburg, Pennsylvania, was arrested in Philadelphia on October 15. She has been held without bail since her arrest.

Yesterday she was named as being part of the plot to kill Mr Vilks. She is accused of having online discussions about her plans with at least one of several suspects apprehended over that plot in Ireland yesterday.

Posted by peiper     on 03/10/2010 at 09:57 AM   
Filed Under: • Muslims • Terrorists • USA •  
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TEHRAN TO LONDON ……….  Something way,way off the norm for my posting habits.

Over a year ago I heard this young lady on the radio as a panelist on a brilliant program called Just a Minute.  I didn’t quite catch her last name and at the time didn’t even bother trying to look it up on the BBC site.  But as time went on and she appeared a few more times in the coming yrs, I started to take more note of her.  Actually, her appearance on the radio made fans of us almost at once.  Unfortunately, she isn’t a regular on that program and it’s easy to lose track of entertainers when there are tons of other things to do and you don’t own a TV.  Then, this past wkend in one of the Sunday magazines that come with the papers, I found a profile on her.  Prior to this I only knew she was originally from Iran and came to England as a toddler. 

Here’s a success story of an immigrant whose family left the madhouse of the ayatollahs and found a home and freedom here.

I thought this was worthy of a post on it’s own.  Not to say that everyone who YTs her looking for her act will be fans of her humor. What we have seen we have enjoyed very much.  This is a bright and talented woman we admire.  Here’s her story. 

Shappi Khorsandi: From Tehran to Enid Blyton

The stand-up comedian recalls the often comic upheaval of fleeing to Britain with her family from Iran in 1979

You can tell by the names my parents gave me and my brother that they never planned to leave our native Iran for good. Had they known they would end up raising us in England, they would have given us Persian names that the English could pronounce more easily — like Darius and Cyrus, Dara and Sara. They would not have named us Shaparak and ­Peyvand, thus condemning us to childhoods of being called Shakkattack and Pavement.

Our names, though, turned out to be the least of our problems when we ended up in exile after my satirist father had insisted on writing jokes that criticised the mullahs. The ruling clerics have never been known for their sense of humour, nor their interest in freedom of speech, and it was made clear to my father, by a 3,000-strong mob that stood outside his Tehran office in 1979 chanting “Death to Hadi Khorsandi”, that it was probably best to leave Iran quite quickly. That figure of 3,000 was only an estimate made later, by witnesses — my father didn’t stop to count.

So London became our refuge, and when my parents first took us to nursery school, the kindly, elderly teacher asked: “How old are your children, Mr Khorsandi?” Taking pride in his English, my father told her: “This one is half past three, and that one is half past four.”

Aged half past three, I spoke only Persian and thought English was a language you made up as you went along and everyone else would just magically understand: ­“Foroshh knoo allaw!” With my parents maintaining Persian at home, though, I soon became bilingual and able to sulk in two ­different languages.

While I discovered Enid Blyton and all the other delights of this new language, my father continued his attacks on the Iranian government through the cartoons, articles and poems he penned in the satirical newspaper he published and distributed to the Iranian diaspora. His newspaper, Asghar Agha (which roughly translates as Joe Bloggs), had a wide circulation among the Iranians who had fled the regime. But the popularity of Asghar Agha made my father a target even in exile. Many times I would answer the phone and be informed by an angry, growling voice that my father should be killed for his opinions. “Dad!” I would call. “It’s for you! I think it’s the Ayatollah!”

In 1984, when I was 11, I came home from school to find two burly Englishmen in our little flat. At that time, English strangers in our home were usually bailiffs, but these two gentlemen were sipping chai and enjoying Persian sweets. Iranians are widely regarded as the most hospitable of people, but even we draw a line at breaking bread with bailiffs. They were, I was told, plain-clothes police officers from Scotland Yard who had come to take us into hiding. They had uncovered a terrorist plot to kill my father. I had often wished that my father was a plumber, like Mark Johnson’s dad at school. Never more so than in that moment, though. Plumbers are almost never assassinated.

We went to Windsor, to a little bed and breakfast. My father was told that he mustn’t let a soul know where he was, so he only told around 20 of his closest friends who all joined us for our hiding party. After a few days we were assured it was safe to come home. We did, but I didn’t feel safe. I kept expecting someone to leap out from behind a tree and throw a grenade at us. We were still under police protection, which meant that from time to time officers would stop by, drink tea and talk about terrorists with my father. “You must check under your car for bombs, Mr Khorsandi,” they told him. So, every morning, before my father drove us to school, we would lie on our bellies in our drive and stare underneath our Ford Cortina. My father would crease his brow and say: “I don’t know what a bomb looks like. There could be 10 under there, I have no idea. Jump in, we’ll see what happens.”

Nothing bad did happen, but the threat that it might followed us to and from school, travelled with us on our holidays to Brighton and Blackpool, and hovered over us as we slept. From that day on, we lived in fear of losing each other.

For a terrorist, killing is just the tip of the iceberg. His job is to take away your peace of mind and to break the spirit of your supporters. They didn’t manage this with my father. Asghar Agha is online and going strong. As for myself, I have tried to spare my own son the traumas we went through. I don’t have a car, I have given him an easy name and I am instilling in him a healthy interest in plumbing.

Shappi Khorsandi will discuss her memoir, A Beginner’s Guide to Acting English, at the Sunday Times Oxford Literary Festival on Wednesday, March 24, at 8pm.

SOURCE

Posted by peiper     on 03/10/2010 at 07:15 AM   
Filed Under: • Celebrities • Humor • Talented Ppl. • UK •  
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   Tuesday - March 09, 2010

ANOTHER VERY BAD IDEA BUT THEN, SOME WOMEN WILL BE MACHO. OH BOY. WANNA SEE THIS

OK. No long rant as I’ve said whatever I need to on the subject. But this might be taking equality very far. How good for morale can this be?
So near yet so legally far. I guess we’ll see in time.  I think however that any sex scandal will be the least of the problems with this decision.

Navy sex scandal fears as women are set to be allowed to serve in submarines

By Daily Mail Reporter

Under plans due to be implemented later this year, five women officers will be deployed with all four Vanquish-class nuclear submarines. Each vessel carries 135 crew.

‘There is concern over what might happen,’ a naval source told The Sun. ‘If there was a sex scandal it would be impossible for anyone to be taken off until the sub returned from its four-month patrol.

‘The Navy will go to great lengths to make sure that the first women are officers with impeccable credentials.’

It emerged last month that the U.S. is axing its policy barring females from serving in submarines.

Robert Gates, the Defence Secretary in Washington, announced that he intended to repeal the rule possibly within weeks.

The Ministry of Defence in London is expected to follow suit - allowing the Navy’s 3,700 women sailors from taking jobs beneath the waves.

The review was ordered by the Government following pressure from senior Labour figures eager to introduce full equal opportunities for females in the Armed Forces.

Women have served on board Royal Navy surface ships for about 20 years but they remain outlawed from submarines.

The original refusal was justified on the basis of the cramped living conditions on board and concerns over the dangers posed by fumes inside the submarine to a foetus if a woman is pregnant.

If they discovered they were pregnant after going to sea, the commander could be forced to return home and abandon a secret mission.

The Vanguard-class submarines which carry the UK’s Trident nuclear missiles typically put to sea on patrols lasting four months or more without resurfacing, while ‘hunter-killer’ submarines remain submerged for months gathering intelligence or shadowing suspect ships.

The Royal Navy’s new Astute attack submarines could easily be adapted to accommodate females, while the design of the new Trident nuclear subs will also give ‘consideration to the possibility of women serving in the future’.

The Australian, Canadian, Danish, Swedish and Norwegian navies already allow women to serve on their submarines.

If the Royal Navy allows the move, only mine-clearance diving units and the Royal Marines would be closed to women in the Armed Forces.

However, an internal review conducted by the MoD two years ago supported the current policy.

The wide-ranging review of the role of women in the military was launched last year. It is also looking at whether women should be permitted to serve in infantry units or in tank crews.

Women have operated on the front line in Iraq and Afghanistan - as medics, intelligence officers and with the artillery. The RAF also has female pilots and navigators.

SOURCE AND MORE

Posted by peiper     on 03/09/2010 at 11:32 AM   
Filed Under: • Military • UK •  
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Bird causes traffic chaos in London after resisting multiple rescue attempts. something different

Yeah, I’ll get back to my usual bitching later I guess. It’s become my natural state seeing things the way they are. But this tickled the funny bone although I doubt others in traffic thought it funny. Mean birds too when they wanna be.

No, I’m not going to swan off! Bird causes traffic chaos in London after resisting multiple rescue attempts

By Daily Mail Reporter

As excuses go, it sounds unlikely - ‘Sorry I’m late, I got held up by a swan’.

But that’s what happened to these drivers after the bird decided to settle down in the middle of a bridge over the Thames.

There was traffic chaos for more than an hour as the creature resisted all attempts to shoo it out of the way.

It had been seen waddling over Kew Bridge in South-West London before sitting down for a rest, forcing police to hold up the traffic and carefully direct cars around it.

An onlooker said: ‘I was very impressed with the way the police cared about the safety of that swan.

‘After one hour the swan managed to fly away and the traffic went back to normal and the police reopened the road.

Swaaaneee, how I love ya,how I love ya my dear old ..?  Ah sorry for that.  Here’s the source and more.

Posted by peiper     on 03/09/2010 at 10:50 AM   
Filed Under: • Humor • News-Briefs • UK •  
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Harperson on the march again. Vegans to get discrimination rights along with teatotalers & atheists

I had no idea, not even a clue, that this particular grouping of people had problems of discrimination.  Vegetarians? Tea drinkers? Atheists? What next?
Naval ship’s captains? Jeesh.

One commenter in The Times wrote, Vegan...an old Native American word meaning poor hunter. LOL

I’m just guessing here but I’d say Ms Harperson deserves a few bats to add to the colony she already has in her belfry. 

Gee and to think. All those many youthful years and I was the victim of discrimination without ever knowing I was.  Who do I sue?  Says here that it’s unlawful for example to have ladies nights where they save money but men do not.  So I’m a past victim.  You too. Oh what a hard life and oh how unfair. Hey, how about we men demand restitution for all the extra money we spent while the ladies got into clubs for free. There ya go. We demand money and oh yeah. A sincere and heartfelt apology from all women.  Oh boy. This should be fun. 

From The Sunday Times

Don’t mock my lentils: vegans to get discrimination rights

Marie Woolf, Whitehall Editor

VEGANS and teetotalers are to be given the same protection against discrimination as religious groups, under legislation championed by Harriet Harman, the equalities minister.

Members of cults and “new religions” such as Scientology, whose supporters include the film stars Tom Cruise and John Travolta, would also be offered protection, as would atheists.

A code of practice explaining the legal implications of the equality bill states that religions need not be mainstream or well known for their adherents to gain protection. “A belief need not include faith or worship of a god or gods, but must affect how a person lives their life or perceives the world.”

The code, drawn up by the Equality and Human Rights Commission, singles out vegans, who do not eat any animal products or wear leather, as meriting protection from religious discrimination. It says: “A person who is a vegan chooses not to use or consume animal products of any kind. That person eschews the exploitation of animals for food, clothing, accessories or any other purpose and does so out of an ethical commitment to animal welfare.”

A spokesman from the commission explained: “This is about someone for whom being vegan or vegetarian is central to who they are. This is not something ‘thought up by the commission’. Parliament makes the law, the courts interpret it and the commission offers factual and proportionate guidance to organisations where necessary. We are providing guidance on the implications of the equality bill.”

The legislation also covers “any religious belief or philosophical belief” and even “a lack of belief”.

Philosophical beliefs to be protected could include humanism and pacifism, but a spokesman for Harman said scientific or political beliefs such as Marxism and fascism would not be covered. The commission added that the recently founded International Church of Jediism, with 500,000 followers worldwide who base their philosophy on the Star Wars films, would not qualify. Beliefs had to be heartfelt.

The watchdog also warns that advertisements giving preferential treatment to men or women could be illegal. This could mean the end of “ladies’ nights” at clubs, when women receive cut-price drinks or free entrance but men pay full price.

People for whom abstention from alcohol was a way of life would also be protected. Conversely, the bill would make it unlawful for a shopkeeper to refuse to sell cigarettes to a woman because she was pregnant.

HARPERSON SOURCE

Posted by peiper     on 03/09/2010 at 09:49 AM   
Filed Under: • Big Brother • Politically Correct B.S. • UK •  
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   Monday - March 08, 2010

Africa Sucks, Part 4261

I really don’t want to run this story. Not only is it awful, it’s awfully repetitive. How many times have we seen essentially the same thing happen? What is it with the people on this continent? Tribalism? In the modern world? It’s hard to accept that any one person could be this brutal, much less a whole village or tribe full. Or several tribes full.

And yet ... here we go again.

Nigeria’s security forces have been put on high alert after a new burst of sectarian violence left over 500 people dead, most of them women and children hacked to death by machete wielding gangs.

The attack happened before dawn on Sunday morning when gangs of men descended on several mainly Christian villages near the central city of Jos, firing guns as they approached. Witnesses of the attack, which centred on the village of Dogo-Nahawa, described how victims were caught in animal traps and fishing nets as they tried to flee their attackers.

A resident of Dogo-Nahawa said that the attackers had fired guns as they entered the village, to lure their victims out of their houses. “The shooting was just meant to bring people from their houses and then when people came out they started cutting them with machetes,” said Peter Gyang, who lost his wife and two children .

Dan Manjang, a state government advisor, confirmed that 500 people had been killed. “We have been able to make 95 arrests but at the same time over 500 people have been killed in this heinous act ... by Fulani herdsmen,” Mr Manjang said in a telephone interview.

An aid worker with the Christian charity Stefanus Foundation, Mark Lipdo, told the BBC he went to the villages of Zot and Dogo-Nahawa after daylight on Sunday and recorded the names of 77 victims. He said that there were at least two dozen more bodies. “We saw mainly those who are helpless, like small children and then the older men, who cannot run, these were the ones that were slaughtered,” he said, adding that Zot had been almost wiped out.

An unnamed government official said that over 100 people had been killed, mostly women and children. ”Some of the children are less than one year old,” he added.

But analysts said that the attack seemed to be in reprisal for the violent clashes in Jos between Christians and Muslims in January, which claimed the lives of at least 300 people and displaced thousands of others.

...

This central region of Nigeria had been a regular ethnic and religious flashpoint.  [ no kidding. I’d call it more of an ongoing fireball. ]

...

In November 2008, the federal government sent in the troops after Christians and Muslims fought each other using firearms and machetes in clashes that followed a contested election in Jos.

Official figures put the death toll [ for that fight then ] at 200, but rights groups Human Rights Watch said it was more than 700.

Lovely place. Lovely locals. Charming culture. Remind me to visit ... on the 12th of NEVER.  At least 1000 dead in 3 major incidents in just 16 moths. And who knows how many more died in minor skirmishes, random individual murders, and mysterious disappearances.

Muslims vs. Christians? Or is it that one tribal group is one faith, and their enemy tribal group is another faith, and both tribes just continue to murder in the most heinous ways possible. Keep the vendetta going forever. Because that’s their way, and they’ll never change.

The killings add to the tally of thousands who have already perished in Africa’s most populous country in the last decade due to religious and political frictions. Rioting in September 2001 killed more than 1,000 people. Muslim-Christian battles killed up to 700 people in 2004. More than 300 residents died during a similar uprising in 2008.

“In the last decade”? Please. It never stops. It’s forever. Anybody old enough to remember the genocide in Biafra? That happened when I was a kid. Guess where Biafra is? (or was?) In Nigeria. 1967. 100,000 dead in battle, and 2 million dead by torture, reprisals, and starvation. At the hands of the Fulani. It can’t just be “blood for oil”.

Posted by Drew458     on 03/08/2010 at 10:00 PM   
Filed Under: • Africa • Religion •  
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