Off We Go

Country Mouse and I leave for Wedding Base Camp tomorrow morning. I'm bringing my laptop but frankly don't know what time I'll have between visiting and errands to tackle posting (you never know though, and as Joe has pointed out before every time someone says they are stopping for a while the posts gush forth).

We are going to be staying at Country Mouse's old family home, now a nicely appointed vacation rental:

It is home to one of the world's grooviest bathrooms:

As well as a pretty sweet kitchen with a vintage General Motors (!) range and a nifty light-up mosaic countertop (a collaborative project between CM's mum, her boyfriend, and CM):


If you are looking for a vacation rental close to Acadia National Park, you could do a lot worse than the above.

I'll be back in a couple of weeks at the latest. In the interim, I suspect more posts will find their way to this one than here.

Toodle Pip,
Weasel

Move Over, Virgina Woolf

Saturday in Rockland, Maine; Country Mouse, Dinah and I head to the lighthouse (click to enlarge).

The Rockland Breakwater; 7/8ths of a mile long with a lighthouse at the end.

Country Mouse and Dinah, taking the sea air.

The Raw Faith, under a Captain of the Port's order from the Coastguard to stay put after almost wrecking twice. It's big news in these parts, and quite a long story.

I wanna go on that. She looks fast.

Ye olde lighthouse.

Pat Reilley lives down the street from us. He's not on the council anymore.

From the water side.

Are we really going to get more rain?

Rockland to the left, Rockport in the middle, and Camden to the left under the hazy hills.

Her loveliness, the Country Mouse.

A simple beast who likes biscuits and doesn't get enough exercise, and Dinah.

"That's him officer! I'd know that tongue anywhere!"

What every child needs: a toy hobo.
From the BBC:

"Camera licking beggar given Asbo.
A beggar who licked security cameras to hide his identity has been given an anti-social behaviour order (Asbo). Keith Farran took cash from motorists, saying he would wash their cars, but did not carry out the work. The 27-year-old then licked CCTV cameras to obscure their view in a car park in Stockton, Teesside.

Magistrates gave Farran a two-year anti-social behaviour order, banning him from interfering with CCTV cameras or attempting to wash cars. Farran, of Borough Road, Middlesbrough, was also ordered not to harass or intimidate anyone, swear, or loiter in car parks across the Teesside area.

The latest Asbo follows an interim order granted in March after complaints from Stockton Council. Farran did not contest any part of the order or any of the evidence in support of the order during a hearing at Teesside Magistrates' Court.

Paul Kirton, the council's cabinet member for community safety and protection, added: "We cannot allow people to act in irresponsible ways, such as intimidating members of the public as they go about their daily life.""

All I can think is that it must have paid pretty well if he kept it up so long. If only more of today's young people showed that sort of initiative we would be free of the curse of dirty security cameras.

Celebrity News

Sad news across the BBC ticker this morning: former Beatle and current investment bank pitchman Paul McCartney and his much younger wife Heather Mills are to separate The couple blame the constant publicity McCartney has sought since his teenage years. McCartney will live alone with his 800 million quid. Apparently there is no truth to the rumour that Mills sought the seperation because McCartney had gone from the cute Beatle to the Scrotum Faced Beatle.


McCartney, and indeed any aging baby boomer who marries a model many years his junior, should heed the pithy taxidermy rule laid down by my great-uncle the big game hunter Sir Ranulph Wickenden-Weasel (pictured above):
"You should only mount trophies once."

This Is Not A Language Blog

Odd how English English and American English is replete with similar sounding words, often foreign in origin, that convey completely different meanings on either side of the Atlantic:

A Barrister (aka a trial lawyer)

A Barista (aka a holder of a Masters in English Lit)
Never hire a barista to argue a traffic dispute on your behalf, unless you fancy the idea of a bungled case and the judge getting covered in frothy milk and simple syrup. Conversely, never drink coffee prepared by a barrister, as lawyers from different firms are always sneaking in and super-heating the beverages on offer in order to initiate personal injury suits against their rivals.

Stop The Presses!

The Maine National Guard try out their summer uniforms in Madawaska, August 2005
Any truth to the rumour that the Maine National Guard are being dispatched to the border to head off this bunch?


What? The (P)Resident's* plan to send troops to patrol the border is purely an operation on the southern US frontier? But who will protect us from the swarms of burly day-loggers charging south? Ay carmaba!

Now it all makes sense

Our brave boys roust out the swarthy latin horde from their Rio Grande hidey-holes

The Iraq war, so puzzling to so many, now finally makes sense. Forget democracy, forget WMD, forget terrorism: the deployment to the deserts of Babylon is simply an extended training mission for the National Guard:

Mexico alarm at Bush border plan (BBC)

Hot sun; sand; olive skinned opponents attempting to move stealthily; embedded journos from the MSM and agitated lefties trying to make documentaries; poorly educated, tribally minded, angry and heavily armed locals; this will all be very familiar to the Guard.

It is just like the time in the late seventies President Carter deployed Vietnam-tested units to the Louisiana Bayou to stop Laotian boat people from sneaking up the Atchafalaya. Good times, ah good times.

Aggghhh!

Just advanced notice that posts may be a little sporadic for the next week as:

1) I'm trying furiously to wrap up a submission to Baumer's latest project over at River Vision Press- 3,000 words on the Wyeths and coastal Maine, at least two gags a page, one reference to Jennifer Lopez's bottom, and no drawings (send stamped, addressed envelope for your copy and prepare to learn about how Jesus was a 4ft tall Nubian with six fingers on each hand: true!);

2) Along with Country Mouse, I have 6 hours of mix-CDs to make;

3) I have foolishly set myself the goal of completing two 750 word bits for the June and July editions of The Bar Harbor Squash before I go on vacation next Monday;

4) I'm going on vacation next Monday, for two weeks; and finally,

5) I get married in two weeks time. Holy crap!

Another Thing Ruined

Mr. Whippy soft serve ice cream: dead to me now
First she abolished free milk in schools, which according to a letter in football365 reported in The Guardian has had knock on effects that have gravely damaged England's chances in Germany 2006;

Then she abolished the 1/2 penny coin, leading to the doubling in price of 1/2p chewy sweets and a 50% reduction in the purchasing power of my pocket money;

And now I learn Mrs. Thatcher had a hand in the creation of one of my favorite industrial food products, Mr. Whippy soft serve "ice cream":

"Before she became a politician, it was Mrs Thatcher's proudest claim that she had revolutionised the composition of Mr Whippy ice cream, so that it contained more cold air bubbles per quart of vegetable fats...." (Boris Johnson rambling about technology in the Daily Telegraph).

Next thing you know I'll read that she gutted the British union movement and said something silly like "there is no such thing as society". I mean, after learning she had a hand in Mr. Whippy nothing would surprise me.

Baroness Thatcher of Grantham, photographed on her 80th birthday.

Happy (American) Mothers' Day

Mom- I love you so much, I'll wash metal ore in poison so you can have a shiny thing. (Gold mining cyanide leach field)
I only say American Mothers' Day in this context, as we Brits celebrate our mamas in March (no doubt our "Mothering Sunday" like most British holidays has its roots in some gore soaked fertility orgy from the pre-Christian past that involved painting our willies blue and donning floral bonnets). But indeed, American Mothers' Day arrives this Sunday. The days leading up to this celebration of love and family are some of the busiest for jewelry retailers and by extention the minerals extraction business.

I'm not going to bang on about stuff we all already know, but as you consider this holiday, and indeed any holiday where gifts are exchanged, please bear in mind the true cost of the present you select is not only borne by your wallet but also by other people far removed from the comfortable world of malls and boutiques.

Illegal gold mine, Ghana
Should you want to know more about the trade in precious metals and gems, and about cleaner (in all senses of the word) alternatives (such as Canadian diamonds, for example) visit No Dirty Gold. Or if they appear too activist google the issue to find out some of the environmental and socio-economic research on the impact of resource extraction for yourself.

After all, your mother raised you better than to ignore the troubles of other people in pursuit of your own pleasures, didn't she?

A New Product On The Market?

A triumph for British ingenuity?

Crustastun

Now all we need is for the lobster to catch up and develop a proper nervous system that registers pain as opposed to a rudimentary ganglion. I await the clam sedator® with baited breath.

Maine Spring Continues

I am exhausted after a day of wedding errands and a night of boozy stag dinner, hen party, and then combined stag/hen party bid'nez. So no words from me today, just a trip up the Breakneck Road in Bar Harbor with Country Mouse, Ken the Caterer, and dogs Dinah and Celia.







Ok, one from the ensuing evening:

The Slightest Hint Of Fiddily Diddly Music And I'm Leaving

Off up to Bar Harbor for a weekend of pre-wedding business, so I leave you with an interesting thing I cribbed from Maintaining My Cool, via Listmaker's links bar:

What European City Do You Belong In?

You Belong in Dublin

Friendly and down to earth, you want to enjoy Europe without snobbery or pretensions. You're the perfect person to go wild on a pub crawl... or enjoy a quiet bike ride through the old part of town.

Somehow I think their selection of cities is quite limited, as I was certain my answers were better suited to Stoke-on-Trent, Lyon, or Dusseldorf. Oh well.

Dai the Scammer

The closest thing the National Bank of Wales has to an armoured car stands by to deliver my winnings
Holy crap! I have apparently just won the Welsh National Lottery:

"WALES & UNITED KINGDOM NATIONAL PROMOTIONS
ORGANIZATION PRIZE/AWARD PRINCE CHARLES WALES.
Dear Winner
We happily announce to you the draw (#954) of the WALES & UNITED KINGDOM NATIONAL LOTTERY, online Sweepstakes International program.Your e-mail address attached to ticket number: 013-2316-2002-577 with Serial Number: A025-09, Drew lucky numbers: (13)-(43)-(06)-(15)-(02)-(40) bonus # (09). which consequently won in the 2nd category. You have therefore been approved to claim a total sum of £1,000,000.00 (One Million Pounds Sterling) ...."

This might be the first fictitious lottery I have ever won that I have never bought a fictitious ticket for, and certainly it's the first where the prize will not really be presented by Prince Charles!!! One request though, rather than jug ears can his neice Zara Philips not really present the prize? I mean, she's a minx, and no mistake! If we are going to live in a world of fantasy and the easily duped, can you make this one concession to your new 1 million pound winner, Mr. "Very Bad At Being A Con-man" Man?

I think I'm going to spend some of my fake money on a fake Jaguar E-Type.

Two World Wars And One World Cup

We sing because of passion like this
At the risk of alienating the forty (forty? Gott in himmel!) Germans who Neocounter shows have found this site in recent weeks, I have to say that it is with a feeling of disbelief I read the following about the impending football World Cup on the BBC recently:

England fans are being urged not to sing offensive songs at the World Cup, but instead to consider jovial chants in German and display a more peaceful demeanour. (The full story can be found at the Daily Telegraph's site here).

99% of the time I am a rational internationalist fully cognizant of the emptiness of sterotypes. The rest of the time I am watching England play football.

Two of the German stars of Italy 1990 in characteristic action. Jurgen Klinsmann (top) and Rudi Voller (bottom)


I fully agree that there should be no mocking Nazi salutes, goose-stepping, or fingers under noses in mock-moustachery. But making the finger goggles while singing war film themes? Come on!

I think all but the dimmest England supporters are fully aware that the Second World War ended 61 years ago. It would be a different matter if British Foreign Secretary Jack Straw suddenly donned the finger goggles and burst out with the Dambusters themed in a Council of Europe meeting, but please; attempts to take the (often off-colour) needle out of matches with deep sporting historical connotations (quite apart from any national historical links) like England v. Germany or England v. Argentina are almost as offensive as the songs. Its just another symptom of the global disease of neutering sporting clashes in order to make them into colourful "festivals" of athletics rather than a chance to dust off all the old canards and indulge in a little letting off of steam.

I'm less concerned with re-fighting the battles of El-Alamein or Goose Green for example than with vicariously seeing my team of compatriots avenge the travesty that was the 1990 World Cup semi against Germany or the 1986 "Hand of God" by Maradonna. And for those who like to point to more recent victories by England over Germany and Argentina, I'd like to say that I'd love to see vegance again.

But if opposing team can't come up with something horrible to say about England, or even something along the lines of the famous "Your boys took one hell of a beating" rant by Norwegian commentator Bjorn Minge, perhaps England fans can adopt a new anthem for the World Cup. It's an old song, by Noel Coward of all people, and it goes like this:

Don't let's be beastly to the Germans
When we've definitely got them on the run-
Let us treat them very kindly as we would a valued friend
We might send them out some Bishops as a form of lease and lend,
Let's be sweet to them-
And day by day repeat to them
That 'sterilization' simply isn't done.
Let's help the dirty swine again-
To occupy the Rhine again,
But don't let's be beastly to the Hun.

Whatever will be will be; we're going to Germany...
Of course, we might not get to play Germany or Argentina. We have to get through the early rounds first, and I've probably just cursed us.

"And Another Thing Simpkins; Your Mother is Not Only Insane, She is Pig-Ugly"

Next, Newton's laws as they apply to Santa's reindeer
On NPR this morning there was a story about a conference for science teachers, at which the "tricky" subject of teaching evolution to a classroom full of poisoned minds was tackled by various presenters and educators.

One teacher interviewed said that she had found the conference helpful as it helped her answer "hard questions" like "But Miss, what about Adam and Eve?".

Even allowing for how my obvious lack of religious sentiment colours my view of the subject, how bloody hard can it be for a science teacher to point out that the Adam and Eve story is at best a parable? As Sam Harris pointed out in his recent book The End of Faith there are serious shortcomings with a book that claims to speak the literal truth of God yet places the date of the creation of the earth 2,000 years after the Sumerians had learned how to brew beer.

If I had my way I'd bring back the dunce cap for the kids and the scold's bridle for the parents who willfully lie to themselves and others like this.

"That's Not A Death Rattle, That's His Laugh"

Get down from there Keith, you'll do yourself a mischief
Keith Richards 'tree fall' injury
Rolling Stones guitarist Keith Richards has been taken to hospital in New Zealand after injuring himself while on holiday in Fiji.

Media reports in Australia and New Zealand said Richards had hurt his head when he fell from a coconut tree.

Well of course a sixty something guitarist was up a Fijian coconut tree. Where else would he be? Indeed, Eric Clapton has been known to hang from date palms in Tunisia, clinging to the fronds with his prehensile buttocks.

Perfect for May Day

Never mind the painting, I want to be in a people's democratic video game like our old pal Stalin here
Via my friend RPS:

Your portrait painted like a propaganda poster

Maybe it is just me, but things have certainly changed in the world when what used to take something like mining a ton of coal on your own in a 10 hour shift, saving the comune from poisoning by capitalist running dogs, or informing on every single member of your family to the secret police can instead be yours for a mere $149.

I wonder if I rolled all my change I'd have enough for a Lenin style statue of myself in the back garden?